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Short Stories about the U.S.S. Federalist (My Star Trek writings)


KenJennings
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I've written a couple short stories about an original Star Trek crew, and I thought maybe someone here would enjoy reading them. I'm no experienced writer, so excuse any grammatical or spelling mistakes you encounter, but feedback is very much appreciated!

 

The Last Vestiges

 

The U.S.S. Federalist negotiated a series of gravimetric eddies in an area of uncharted space known by Federation captains as 'The Rapids'. The Rapids had never been completely charted, and the last major Federation presence nearby was the colony at Delta Rana, which had been established some 47 years earlier, and was destroyed in 2366. Captain Aznia Deet watched closely as her ship careened between several spacial anomalies, carefully scanning each, just to see what lies within The Rapids.

 

"It may not be smooth sailing, but it's nice to play the role of explorer again for a change." the Trill Captain quipped. After several months on the front lines of the Klingon, then Borg, conflicts; the Federalist crew was happy to face spacial distortions as their primary foe on this mission. "In another of my lives, it was the full time job of a captain to seek out the mysteries of the cosmos."

 

A control panel sounded an alarm. "Captain, we're picking up unusual neutrino emissions and plasma signatures." Science officer Atom alerted. The android Lieutenant continued his scans, "I'm picking up several large interconnecting structures balanced carefully between two gravimetric eddies."

 

"Can we get them on screen?" requested the Vulcan first officer, Commander Span.

 

With a few taps at his panel, Lt. Atom brought the image on screen. The crew gasped collectively at the sight of dozens of Borg vessels working to construct a massive portal.

 

"Captain, that is a new transwarp hub!", Chief Engineer First of Eight chimed in. "There are less than a dozen of them in the entire galaxy, when I was in the collective, the Borg had established only eight of them. The construction of one so close to Federation space presents an extreme tactical threat. We can't allow it to be completed."

 

"Agreed." The captain responded without hesitation. "What are our options?"

 

"We can't hope to deal with this alone, Captain. We need to bring our findings to Starfleet and wait for reinforcements." Lt. Commander Quallo carefully informed the captain, "The tactical situation is impossible for us. There are at least 25 Borg vessels, including 6 Tactical Cubes surrounding that facility." The Ferengi tactical officer always erred on the side of caution, but in this case, his advice seemed particularly prudent.

 

"Can we get a message to Starfleet from here?" Captain Deet asked quickly. "And is there anything we can do to slow the Borg's process?"

 

"I am afraid we can not get a message out without alerting the Borg to our presence." Lt. Atom informed the captain, "Although we could fire a verteron pulse into one of the eddies, which would disrupt the gravimetric balance that the hub is being built upon. If we do it properly, it would destroy the structure. Unfortunately, that would also alert the Borg to our presence, and we would have no chance of preventing them from starting construction again from scratch."

 

"Begin your preparations." Captain Deet ordered. "Ensign Enthaas, could we outrun the Borg if they were alerted?"

 

"I don't believe so, Captain. The Federalist is a maneuverable ship, but the weight and momentum of those Cubes would allow them through the local subspace shearing better than we could... but Captain, are you familiar with the concept of Null Space?" The Aenar helmsman cautiously probed.

 

"Vaguely, ensign. Why do you ask?"

 

"I believe we could take the Federalist into a pocket of Null space to 'hide' from the Borg. It is very unlikely that they could track our entry point exactly enough to follow us into the same pocket. It would be a difficult game of 'hide and seek', but I believe we could use these pockets to evade the Borg long enough to slowly move toward the edge of The Rapids."

 

Captain Deet sighed, momentarily resting her face in the palm of her hand. "We may not survive this, but we can not allow this hub to be built." The crew agreed fully. "Mr. Atom, fire the Pulse."

 

"Yes, Ma'am." the Android worked his control panel with extreme precision. A sparkling white beam emitted from the Federalists deflector dish, stirring the fabric of space into a turbulent wave of destruction. The frame of the Borg hub was quickly cracked in two, the pieces thrown asunder. The Borg ships immediately changed course as if a starter's pistol had been fired. They targeted the Federalist, as the game of cat and mouse began.

 

"Fire a high yield photon torpedo from aft on a one second detonation timer!" Captain Deet ordered. A flash of energy obscured the Borg sensors momentarily. "Take us into Null space!" The Federalist seemed to vanish into nothingness.

 

A bright white filled the viewscreen as the low level hum of null energy engulfed the ship. "Now, Captain, I believe I can find an alternate exit aperture to this void, so that the Borg can't predict where we will emerge. We'll need to move quickly to prevent them from tracking back on us." Helmsman Enthaas stated.

 

"Make it so." demanded the Captain.

 

"This is... intriguing." Lt. Atom chimed in. "I'm detecting forty-seven derelict ships in this pocket of null space, captain."

 

"What??" The Captain asked with a sense of shock.

 

Lt. Atom responded, "According to the library database, these ships resemble a configuration once encountered by the crew of the Enterprise-D in orbit of Rana IV. Though that encounter was only an illusion mocked up to resemble the Husnock ship that destroyed the colony; I believe we can assume that these ships are actually Husnock."

 

"History indicates that the Husnock species was destroyed by a powerful lifeform called the Dowd." First Officer Span informed.

 

"...but none of their technology, nor their homeworld, was ever discovered. Could this be a remnant piece of technology abandoned by their now-extinct society?" The Captain's sense of wonder was piqued. "Is there any threat of the Borg finding us here, and how long can we maintain our shields in the presence of this null energy?"

 

"I've remodulated our shields to resonate with the null frequency, so we should be able to hold out here for some time; but the Borg could reappear at any time. Given the shifting nature of these gravimetric apertures, they could take moments to find us, and they could take days. We just can't tell." The Chief Engineer informed the crew.

 

"And if they find us, they find the Husnock ships too." The captain became concerned. "The advanced technology on these ships could be as great an asset to them as would the transwarp hub. We can't let them find these ships... Commander First of Eight, assemble an engineering team to investigate the lead vessel. Commander Span, form an away team to escort them."

 

Chief Engineer First of Eight, Commander Span, Lt. Commander Quallo, two security officers, and three engineers formed a boarding party in the transporter room. "Energize!" Commander Span demanded as the Bajoran Transporter Chief dematerialized the away team, sending them to the alien vessel.

 

The Husnock ship was perfectly preserved. Instruments lie in front of panels, as if they'd been suddenly dropped in the course of use. Systems, including life support, continued to operated in a low power mode. The silence aboard the ghost ship was deafening. In the main engine compartment, the away team materialized, the ship's design was advanced, intuitive, and elegant.

 

"This is amazing" the chief engineer stated with intrigue, as she looked over several of the engine schematics; "...slipstream drive, multi spacial hull plating, soliton wave weapons, a ship complete with holoemitters on every deck... this technology is incredibly advanced!"

 

"Holoemitters?" Span inquired.

 

"It appears that this ship intertwined holographic technology and physical technology almost flawlessly. These designs appear to indicate that holographic parts were routinely fashioned to replace physical parts when needed. That is an amazing ability. Imagine being able to conduct repairs by simply programming a holoemitter to project a replacement for whatever system has failed! We can't let the Borg get a hold of this precision holography, this is more advanced than anything I've seen." First of Eight remarked with an unusual sense of alert and awe.

 

"Are there any other holographic programs in the system?" asked the Vulcan commander.

 

The liberated Borg engineer responded, "Dozens. In fact, with a minor power transfer from the Federalist, I believe I could use the technology to bring these systems back online. We could remotely fly this fleet out of here with us. Weapons, Engines, Auxiliary Systems... everything appears to be in order."

 

"Span to Federalist, with a low level power transfer, we believe we can get these ships operational and under our control."

 

"Excellent work." The Captain Responded. "Mr. Atom, engage the power transfer."

 

A beam emitted from the Federalist toward the lead vessel. In the Husnock engineering section, several systems returned to function, and the ship began to buzz with energy and vitality again. Alarmingly, several photonic figures quickly materialized around the away team. Both parties seemed frightened by the other.

 

The photonic creatures stood an unimposing 1.5 meters tall, they were covered in a light hair, and had reversed knees on bi-pedal legs similar to many of Earth's marsupials. Their large, high-set eyes peered across their elongated muzzle at the Federalist away team before quickly reacting with hostility toward the perceived intruders. One red shirted security officer was immediately kicked over a high railing by a photonic Husnock, breaking several bones in the process. Another photonic worked at an environmental control system to flood the compartment with toxic gas. Most of the away team fell to the ground; but remnant Borg implants left First of Eight resistant to the affects. She ran to a nearby EPS power converter, and held her phaser to the conduit; "We don't mean you harm, but if you continue, I'll blow out the power system to your emitters!" she demanded.

 

The lead photonic Husnock was the first to relent. "Replace the atmosphere!" he ordered. The crew stumbled back to life. "Where is our crew! What have you done!?"

 

Span coughed, struggling back to his feet. "That's going to take some time to explain."

 

Captain Deet agreed to beam aboard the vessel to discuss the situation with the photonic Husnock. The tension was high, but she found it odd that a species with such an aggressive reputation had left photonic survivors that were so willing to talk.

 

"Aznia Deet, we're glad you've decided to meet with us. Your First Officer has explained much of the situation. Are you sure that the organic Husnock are completely extinct?"

 

"We believe so, several years ago, they attacked a planet called Rana IV, and in an act of revenge, an extremely powerful entity somehow destroyed the entire species." Deet informed the calm and rational Photonic.

 

"I can't say I'm entirely surprised that the Husnock's aggression finally led them to their demise. They treated other species as complete inferiors, unworthy of their time, and they treated us photonic slaves even worse. You see, the Husnock homeworld exists within null Space, so they were never subject to invasion or detection. They only exited to act in aggression toward others, believing themselves impervious to retaliation. Our forty-seven ships were the Husnock's prime invasion force- each destined to bombard a different planet, salvage any usable resources, and return them to the safety of null space. This particular ship was intended to attack the Sheliak homeworld."

 

"Do you still have any aspirations to carry out your mission?" The concerned Captain asked.

 

"No. We were programmed to follow orders, to tolerate their mistreatment, and to do our menial jobs. We are sentient, but unfortunately our programming restrictions allowed us no ability to resist them. Now that they are gone, we are free. We only wish for our existence." The photonic pleaded.

 

"We can help to liberate your programming, we can work with you to re-establish a homeworld... We wish only to explore, to seek out new life, and you certainly qualify as such. I would take great pleasure in helping you to survive into the future, but we are facing another problem at the moment." Captain Deet informed the alien hologram.

 

"We'd be happy to help you as much as we can. Each ship has a holographic auxiliary crew, if I can activate and communicate with them, I'm sure they would be understanding and willing to do the same. We are only grateful that you've found us, awoken us, and given the remnants of our species a new beginning."

 

The ship shook violently.

 

"Deet to Federalist, what's going on!?"

 

"The Borg have found us, there are three Tactical Cubes entering this pocket of Null Space. They've opened fire on your ship." Lt. Atom responded.

 

"Is there anything you can do to help us?" Deet asked the Photonic Husnock.

 

With a few taps at the control panel, an energy transfer webbed through all forty-seven Husnock ships. Another Husnock conveyed orders throughout the fleet. A firefight erupted against the Borg vessels, as the Federalist was able to evade severe damage. The Borg were quickly eliminated by the Advanced Husnock Technology. The ability of the Husnock ships to shred through the Borg's strongest vessels was stunning.

 

The Federalist escorted the Husnock convoy through several tunnels and apertures of null space, weaving through the whiteness with an instinctive precision. After several minutes, the convoy drew upon an unusual planet bathed in null energy and surrounded in a shroud of radiation resistant dust that allowed life to thrive beneath. A relic of the past lie in wait, complete with working photonic projection satellites, advanced infrastructure, large cities, and endless supplies. Much of it lay untouched by the passage of time, much of it deteriorated and in disrepair. An away team joined the Photonic Husnock on the surface.

 

Standing in the chasm of what once appeared to be a thriving, beautiful city; the Photonic Husnock leader and met one last time with Deet, Span and First of Eight.

 

"What will you do now?" Captain Deet asked.

 

The Photonic Leader responded, "We will begin anew. We will replicate, rebuilt, and maintain what is left of us. It may sound unusual, but I see no reason that the Husnock species can not live on as a species of Photonics. From our forty-seven ships, the seeds will be planted. We have all the skills necessary to build a new society, we can program new holograms to reproduce and replace what has been lost- but it will be better this time. We would also like to offer that we will try to atone for the misdeeds of our creators by lying in sentinel of this area of space. We will not let the Borg develop their transwarp hub here."

 

"Your leadership and understanding in this situation has been inspiring. If there is anything you need, feel free to ask. I will be in contact with Starfleet shortly, and I'm sure they will be anxious to send a liaison to make contact with you on their behalf. I'm sure they will also be willing to help your society rebuild. I see no reason that we can't be strong allies going forward." Captain Deet said with a sincere smile.

 

"Captain, you've given a civilization new life -better life- and we will never forget it. This is the beginning of something grand." The photonic optimistically responded.

 

"Deet to Federalist, three to beam up."

Edited by KenJennings
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The Prize Fighter

 

He pulled the lever to open the maintenance hatch on the torpedo. It was the 44th torpedo in the ship's arsenal of 50. He tapped a few buttons on the hidden access panel, and synched his tricorder to it's onboard computer system.

 

"Targeting functions within acceptable parameters. Photon warhead stable. Propulsion unit tests optimal." The computer reported its diagnostic findings.

 

Quallo sighed softly, "Just six more to go. Then I can call it a night."

 

The door to the torpedo bay opened. Captain Deet entered.

 

"Captain, is there something I can help you find?" Quallo asked, dropping what he was doing.

 

"Actually I'm here to speak to you." the Captain replied.

 

"Oh, you didn't need to come all the way down here, I would've come to your ready room." Quallo wondered why she hadn't.

 

"I've got two working legs. I know too many captains who forget that they have an entire ship of moving parts underneath their bridge, and they never come down to see it- yet they always expect for it to work perfectly... What are you doing in here anyway? Your shift ended at seventeen-hundred."

 

"I just wanted to run an inspection on the photon torpedoes. I'll be sure to finish in the next 15 minutes. I've got an hour of holodeck time at twenty-hundred hours that I don't want to miss." Quallo explained.

 

"See that you don't." the Captain shot back, concerned that her officer was overworking himself, "Do you need more help with the weapons systems? I'm sure we can move some personnel to help you get these diagnostics done."

 

"No, Captain. Thank you. It seems like Ensign Anderson has done a fine job with recent torpedo maintenance, I just wanted to double check."

 

"Do you have reason to believe his work was unsatisfactory?"

 

"Not at all, he's a fine officer... but... I'm ultimately the one who will pull the trigger to fire these torpedoes. So I'm also ultimately responsible for making sure they work right when I do. There could be a lot riding on these." he paused, "I hope I'm not overstepping my authority here; I know it's redundant, and that's why I do this on my free time."

 

"I certainly applaud your commitment and dedication, I only hope you're not working yourself too hard. Just make sure you don't miss your holodeck time- that's an order." The Captain smiled before turning to walk out.

 

"Oh, I almost forgot why I came down here." she added, "The Federalist has been asked to change course in order to bring some medical supplies to Dessica II. We should be entering orbit shortly. I know you grew up there, so if you'd like to catch up with some old friends, I'd be willing to stay in orbit for a few days."

 

Quallo suddenly looked alarmed. "Thank you Captain, but I hope I never go back to that planet. I don't have fond memories or old friends there."

 

"Very well, Mr. Quallo. Let me know if you need anything." The Captain left Quallo to his work, the doors sliding shut behind her.

 

Quallo returned to his work. "Computer, when was the last diagnostic on our phaser array?" He queried.

 

"The phaser array underwent a full diagnostic 3 days, 14 hours ago." the computer immediately answered.

 

"Prepare another diagnostic..."

 

---

 

The next morning, Aznia Deet entered the bridge at zero-seven-twenty hours, she walked into her ready room directly to the replicator: "Bolian Tonic, 2 degrees Celsius, large." A cold, fizzy, transparent purple drink appeared in a clear tall glass, which she eagerly sipped. She never started the day without her ritual pick-me-up, and a quick glance at the ship's status report.

 

several minutes later, Aznia returned to the bridge with her drink, dismissing Lt. Atom from command of the Delta Shift. The android officer returned to his post at the science station.

 

Giving her first order of the day, Captain Deet ordered a hailing frequency be opened to the Dessican administrator.

 

After a moment he came on screen, "Administrator Bort, have your facilities received all of the medical supplies?"

 

The rotund Bolian bureaucrat responded, "Yes Captain, we are in your debt. These supplies will save lives here." He paused, a curious look coming over his face. "Is... Is that a Bolian Tonic you're holding?"

 

Captain Deet looked down at her drink mildly confused. She then looked back up at the administrator with a smile and answered "Why yes it is. I'm quite fond of it actually."

 

The Bolian chuckled, "It just so happens that I've got an entire case of tonic here, fresh from Bolarus- the genuine article too! I would be very pleased to have you and your staff join me for a drink and a meal. I know Dessica II has an old reputation for being a lawless, dangerous place; but we've made great strides under my administration. I'd love to a chance to show a Federation representative some of our reforms and accomplishments."

 

"Certainly. I'm looking forward to it."

 

"Splendid. I'll make preparations! Say... thirteen-hundred hours? I'll transmit beam-down coordinates shortly."

 

Aznia nodded, smiling. The communication channel closed. She turned around to face her crew, noting that Ensign Bohannon at Tactical was the only officer still present from Delta Shift. "Computer what is the time?"

 

"Zero-seven-thirty-three hours, seventeen seconds." The precise instrument responded.

 

"Ensign Bohannon, has Lt. Commander Quallo informed you that he would be late?"

 

"No sir, I just haven't been dismissed yet." the Ensign alertly responded.

 

"Deet to Quallo, report." Aznia tapped her comm badge.

 

There was no response.

 

"Computer, locate Lt. Commander Quallo." Aznia demanded, as concern filled the bridge like rising water.

 

"Lt. Commander Quallo is not aboard the Federalist." The computer stated, mater-of-factly.

 

"When was he last aboard, how did he leave, and where was he located?" A subtle panic set into Aznia's voice.

 

"Lt. Commander Quallo was last detected in Jeffries Tube 52-a at twenty-hundred-thirty-seven hours, 54 seconds. Unable to determine method of disembarkment."

 

"Deet to Lt. Dewoh, meet me with a security team at the entry to Jeffries Tube junction 52-a." she ordered. "Span, you're with me."

 

---

 

The Trill and Vulcan senior officers marched quickly through the lower corridors of the Federalist toward the junction. There they met the imposing, tall, maroon skinned Saurian security officer; "Lt. Dewoh, we have a situation. Lt. Commander Quallo has vanished from aboard the Federalist, and we need to know how he's left and where he's gone." She demanded.

 

Lt. Dewoh's awkward mannerism and stoic stature remained unchanged, he simply gave an exaggerated nod of acknowledgement to the captain, stating "Aye, ma'am." before rapidly getting his team to work. He was always an unusual character aboard the ship. Very dedicated to his work, but socially alienated from the rest of the crew. "Level five sensor scans of all these conduits on the doubles!" He pitifully tried to mimic a more typically 'humanoid' mannerism, as he pushed his mostly-human security team to work.

 

It was a matter of moments before the security team found a tool kit unattended in the Jeffries Tube with diagnostic systems engaged. Ultimately, they were unable to find evidence of tampering or sabotage. There was also no evidence of any standard transporter technology having been employed.

 

Aznia waited outside the corridor as the security team conducted their continuing sweeps. It was about an hour before she heard Lt. Dewoh's unusual voice declare "I've got it! I've got it!" as he crawled out of the cramped access tunnel.

 

"Folded Space Transport!" He proclaimed.

 

"I'm sorry, what?" The Captain required clarification.

 

"It is a technology that has been abandoned for years. It is very dangerous to organic tissue- prolonged use will kill you; but it transports individuals undetected, long range, even through shields. Very sneaky, ma'am."

 

"Are you sure?" Aznia probed.

 

"Sure as sure is and will sure be." The awkward Saurian botched the saying, "After removing the impossible, only a Folded Space transporter remains the improbable."

 

"Very nice work, Mr. Dewoh. I want you to stay on the trail, report any findings to me."

 

"Aye! Here to be service! We will find him!" Dewoh stated with sincere enthusiasm.

 

---

 

Captain Deet returned to the bridge. Sitting in the Captain's chair, Aznia found herself more uncomfortable than she's ever been in that seat before. "Open a channel to Starbase 39-Sierra, Admiral Edward Park."

 

The viewscreen flickered on, an old, grizzled officer stare back at the young Captain. "Deet! It's been far too long. How've you been?!"

 

Aznia softly smiled at her old friend, "Things have been better, Admiral."

 

"Admiral?" the old commanding officer responded with surprise. "Drop the ranks, Deet. What can I do to help?"

 

"One of my officers has gone missing. He was pulled from the ship with a Folded Space Transporter. I need any information you have on this technology. I also need a detailed personnel file on Lt. Commander Quallo, including his history on Dessica II. I have reason to believe someone in his past is behind this."

 

The admiral's tone turned somber, "Absolutely Deet. I'll have it transmitted over immediately. Is there anything else I can do?"

 

Smiling, Aznia finished the conversation "I don't think so, Eddy. thank you for your help. I'll buy you a drink next time I'm around."

 

"I'd like that." the old friends ended their call.

 

"Get Administrator Bort on screen." Aznia jumped from one thought to the next.

 

The fat Bolian's smiling face again appeared on screen. "Our meeting isn't for another hour, Captain. Is there something I can do for you?"

 

"I'm afraid we might need to cancel our plans, Administrator." Aznia's stated seriously, "A crew member has gone missing, abducted by a Folded Space Transporter, and we have reason to believe that it may have something to do with his history on Dessica II."

 

"That's just awful, I will alert our authorities to be on the lookout. I like to think that this planet has made great strides in stamping out the presence of organized crime, but there is still a healthy criminal element on this planet. What is your crewman's name?"

 

"His name is Quallo, he is a Ferengi who grew up on the Travisian Coast of the Ketral Continent." The Captain informed the Administrator.

 

"I'll look into it right away, I'll let you know if I find anything." Bort closed the channel.

 

"I'll be in my ready room." The captain stepped into the privacy of her office.

 

---

 

At her console, the Captain began to sift through the information streamed from Starbase 34-Sierra. Quallo's history was spotty. His location and date of birth were recorded, as was his date of enlistment in Starfleet. Starfleet seemed to have no detailed or relevant history on him prior to the date he stepped off the transport to Earth.

 

Information on the Folded Space Transporter was more detailed. It explained a process to detect a transport in progress. An Adaptive Supspace Echogram would be able to detect the location of such a transport if another one occurs. "We just need to get them to use it again." she quipped to herself.

 

Aznia immediately communicated this information to her crew. After a short wait, a communiqu? came in from the Dessican Administrator's office.

 

"Captain, your officer had an interesting history on Dessica II. Have you ever heard of Wawu Stickfighting?" Administrator Bort asked.

 

"No, I'm afraid not." Aznia responded somewhat impatiently.

 

"It is a barbaric martial art that this planet's natives used to practice. In the ancient version of this event, competitors would be armed with a wooden shield, and a burning stick. A fire would be lit on each end of a rectangular field of combat. The competitors would wait until their weapon's end was red hot; then the objective was to burn your opponent with the hot end. The first competitor to impose three scarring burns on their opponent wins the contest. A modern variation on this sport had become popular on Dessica II several years ago, it combined a modified Klingon Pain Stick and digital scoring. Three years ago, my administration banned the activity, as it attracted the attention of all of this planet's organized crime. Gambling, drinking, violence, injury... it all followed these events. Anyways, two decades ago, your officer was quite the competitor. He was a professional, and he appears to have had a an undefeated career that included 25 consecutive wins... until..." The administrator paused uncomfortably.

 

"Until what?" The Captain demanded.

 

"It seems that in his 26th event, the opponent was killed after Quallo landed his first strike. Quallo left the scene immediately. He hasn't been seen on Dessica II since."

 

"Aren't these weapons non-lethal?" The captain asked with alarm.

 

"They're supposed to be!" The Administrator said with a scoff tone. "Now you can see why I've banned the practice! It seems someone tampered with the combat stick. Either your officer, his trainers, or gamblers. The authorities at the time declared the case closed. Unfortunately, justice meant very little to my predecessors. A full investigation was never conducted... but If you want my opinion, you need to find out more about his opponent if you want to find your officer's kidnappers. He was an Orion named Gevish-Nar."

 

"Thank you for your information, Administrator Bort. You've been a great help." Aznia finished the conversation.

 

"Contact me if you need anything else." the channel closed.

 

---

 

Aznia walked onto the bridge. "Orions." she sneered. "Span, Atom, you're with me." she tapped her comm badge, "Lt. Dewoh, meet me in transporter room 1."

 

Span stopped the Captain, "We can take care of this, Captain. Your place is on the bridge."

 

"No. Under normal circumstances, I'd be inclined to agree. But it's the job of a captain to safeguard their crew. I need to be there. I need to help find Quallo."

 

Span relented. They organized in the transporter room as Ensign Keesa transported them to Travisian City.

 

---

 

Quallo sat quietly in a small, dark room. "I didn't kill him! He was my friend!!" He pleaded through the door, unsure if anyone was listening.

 

Painful memories flooded the Ferengi's head. Since his final fight, he'd always assumed he was a wanted man. Revenge could be sought by Gevish's family, fans, and even friends- though he counted himself among them. He understood why people wanted him dead, sometimes he felt that way himself.

 

Quallo thought back to his life before that fight. He trained with an Orion gym, Gevish was one of his best friends and sparring partners. The Orion clan had taken him in like family. The skills built between the two fighters in that gym reflected the greatest strengths of mutual respect and understanding. Between the two of them, they had trounced the greatest opponents from all of the region's best gyms. The Wawu, the Yridians, the Romulans, none of them could find an opponent worthy of the competing against the boys from the Orion gym. It was only a matter of time before promoters and fans realized that Quallo and Gevish needed to compete, as they were together in a league of their own. It was billed as the greatest event in the history of the planet.

 

There were nearly 50,000 in attendance. Gambling money flooded the arena as hustlers and bookies worked to shave every slip of gold-pressed-profit they could. The event was abuzz with energy. Nothing fazed either fighter. They stared eye to eye before the referee brought each fighter his pain stick. Quallo shifted the grip in his hand, noticing that this was not his favorite stick; but the fight was about to start, and neither fighter was about to break the energy flow in the arena.

 

When the fight started, Quallo found himself unprepared for the ferocity of his opponent. He was on his heels far more than he'd ever been. He'd always been a careful fighter, waiting for the opponent's aggression to show, then striking at weak points systematically. It was unusual to see Gevish taking such aggressive tactics, he'd clearly changed form to take Quallo off guard. Gevish raised his stick at a downward angle indicating a lunge at the legs, so when Quallo moved his shield to block, Gevish backhanded his stick, slapping it across Quallo's shoulder instead, scoring the first strike of the match.

 

For the first time in his professional career, Quallo felt that he might be out of his league. His confidence was shaking. He wondered if the preparation and cunning of a Ferengi could possibly defeat the strength and size of a finely tuned Orion. The fighters retook their relative sides on the arena. Quallo decided to stick to his guns, he couldn't let Gevish throw him out of his comfort zone. Gevish came out of the gate with an extremely aggressive running swing, and this was the exact opportunity Quallo had waited for; he slid to the ground just as the stick swung over his head, and before Gevish could recover, Quallo jabbed at his shoulder, which had been left exposed by the over-aggressive move.

 

Quallo felt an enormous sense of satisfaction as the impact fell, his attitude instantly turned more upbeat. He jumped to his feet with vigor before realizing that something was very wrong. Sparks had flown upon impact, and the end of his pain stick had discharged so violently that its capacitors had burst. Gevish still stood upright, every muscle in his body tensed to it's fullest. Green blood trickled from the corners of his eyes, which stared lifeless and straight toward Quallo. His body seemed to take an eternity to fall. Quallo froze while referees, attendants, and trainers all rushed in. Quallo dropped the broken pain stick, slowly walking in to see his fallen comrade. Death was pronounced very quickly, so Quallo ran. Before reaction could set in, before anyone could realize what had happened; Quallo's flight instincts escorted him from the arena.

 

Amazed that he escaped, he boarded the first departing transport shuttle he found. Quallo booked transport to the Shorahn continent. By the next morning, he was on a freighter to Benzar. Along the way, he considered several new career paths. He needed a fresh start, and he wanted nothing more than to get away from fighting. The most peaceful people he could think of were the people of the Federation. He bought passage aboard a trader's vessel on a trip to Earth, where he applied for admittance to Starfleet Academy.

 

Now Quallo sat in the dark, his past having finally caught up to him, he couldn't run anymore. He didn't know who'd taken him, but he definitely knew why.

 

---

 

Captain Deet had found her way to a back alley bar in Travisian City. She'd been told that it was a popular Orion hangout by a trustworthy source. She stepped around the corner into the alley, and instantly came face to face with two large Orion men leaving the bar. Aznia reached for her phaser, ready to draw down on them. Commander Span put his hand on her arm to stifle her overreaction.

 

"Excuse me ma'am." one of the Orions said before walking past. She eased up after the irrational moment of fear. Span shot her a look as if to say 'I expect better', and she knew he was right. She regained her poise quickly.

 

They walked into the bar, where Commander Span drew the attention of the Orion Bartender. "Do you know anything about Wawu Stickfighting in the area?"

 

The bartender was unhappy with this use of his time. "Look. If you want to talk, buy a drink... I'll think about it."

 

Lt. Dewoh stepped up to the bar. He removed a gold pressed latinum 10-sided die from his pocket. It had alien symbols on each side of it. "Lucky charm... You get luck, we get knowledge."

 

The bartender looked at the die, then looked up at the Starfleet officers. He put the die in his pocket. "The two guy who runs the local gym just left. You must've walked right past him." He pulled over a napkin, removing some kind of pencil from his pocket, and drawing a crude map of their gym's location. "Now buy a drink, or get out of here... and you never talked to me."

 

Aznia led the way out of the bar. She turned back only to thank Dewoh for the die. "I'm sorry you lost your lucky charm."

 

"It was just a die. A charm is no value if you don't use it for the benefit of reality." Dewoh responded rationally. "Just glad I used it well."

 

---

 

The away team followed the crude map to a quiet building nearby. "Perhaps we should just handle this directly." Span knocked on the door. Several armed Orions emerged from around the corners of the building, the away team found themselves ambushed.

 

"Why are you asking our bartender about us?" The lead Orion inquired hostilely.

 

"We're investigating the disappearance of one of our crew." Aznia responded frankly.

 

"We've got no business with Starfleet." the lead Orion lowered his weapon. "What makes you think we know anything?"

 

"Do you know the name Gevish-Nar?" Aznia asked, as the lead Orion became visibly upset.

 

"My name is Tellis-Nar. He was my brother. If I ever find out who's responsible for his death, I will kill them with my bare hands." He insisted. "I lost two brothers that day. There was another fighter from my gym that was tricked into killing him. We never found out what happened to him. I miss those boys every day."

 

"So you don't believe Quallo was responsible??" Aznia asked with some surprise.

 

"You know Quallo?? Where is he!?" Tellis' mood lifted. "Of course he wasn't responsible. He was family!"

 

"Quallo's the missing member of my crew." Aznia informed Tellis.

 

"I'd look at the Yridians. They lost a lot of money on that fight. If they believe Quallo cheated, he could be dead by now."

 

"What do you propose we do?" Span asked.

 

Tellis invited the away team inside his gym, they followed him through a hidden door in a back room of their facility. After going through a long tunnel, they found themselves in a concealed hangar bay. There, they found a massive arsenal: rifles, cannons, and even two Scorpion Fighter Ships.

 

"The Yridian Clans dominate an area of the continent called Balastrade. With your help, we could storm their headquarters and deal a crippling blow to their leadership once and for all! Maybe we can find someone there to tell us where Quallo is."

 

"...as the planet erupts into gang warfare? No, we can't be a part of this." Aznia rejected the plan.

 

"In the years following the fight, the relations between the Yridian and Orion clans deteriorated. When stickfighting was eventually banned, the only common ground we had was erased... Captain, if you want to see your crewman again, you need to help us!"

 

"I'm afraid I can't interfere in your conflict, Tellis. I'll let you know if anything changes." Aznia wouldn't budge. "Deet, to Federalist. Beam us up."

 

---

 

Back aboard the Federalist, Captain Deet felt as if no ground had been made. Certainly she couldn't involve herself in the middle of Dessica II's prominent gang war. She felt like she'd uncovered more questions than answers. "If you need me, I'll be in my ready room." She retreated to her quiet sanctuary, ordering herself another Bolian Tonic.

 

"Captain, we're receiving a hail you may want to answer." Commander Span's voice chimed in just as Aznia relaxed in her seat.

 

Deet hung her head for just a moment before returning to the bridge. "On screen."

 

A wrinkled Yridian face appeared on her viewscreen. "Captain, we are not your enemy." he instantly pleaded.

 

"Why would you assume that you are?" Deet played coy.

 

"Let's drop the pretense. We deal in information. We have eyes everywhere. We don't know where your crewman is, but we know we don't have him."

 

Aznia was intrigued, "What reason do I have to believe you? If you have informants everywhere, then why don't you have answers for me?"

 

"If you want my best guess, Tellis has your officer somewhere. He's not at their gym, or in that secret bunker of his..." Aznia raised an eyebrow at the Yridian's knowledge. "Yes. I know about that. As far as I can tell, Tellis was willing to kill his own brother in the name of profit. How do you think he financed that arsenal of his? I would assume that he's kidnapped his 'old friend' in order to create a situation where he could put that arsenal to use!" The Yridian made a strong case.

 

"He made money on the fight?" The story started to click. "...He made money on the fight." Captain Deet paused the conversation for just a moment. "Lt. Atom, see what you can do to verify this information."

 

"...and here's another free piece of information. Two days after the fight, he got his hands on those Romulan Scorpion Fighters from a Reman arms dealer named Nevvik. Is it simply a coincidence that he found the income to afford something so advanced?"

 

"If he's got such advanced firepower, why hasn't he attacked you yet?"

 

"In this cold war, you don't only need the firepower to defeat your enemy. You need the firepower to push back the authorities who will capitalize on the opportunity to crush two weakened powers at the same time."

 

Aznia looked down at her drink. "I've got an idea, and I need your help."

 

---

 

Aznia sat down in her ready room, "Computer, open a hailing frequency to Administrator Bort."

 

The Bolian face appeared on her console. "Have you had any luck, Captain?" The administrator questioned.

 

"I believe so, administrator. I've been in contact with a Yridian information dealer who claims to have intercepted information about where my crewman is being held. He hasn't informed us yet because he insists on making the transaction in person. Security is a great concern for him. He'll be beaming aboard shortly to explain the situation, and he's agreed to stay aboard until our crewman is recovered."

 

"Wonderful news. I just suggest that you may want to rethink your meeting plans incase the Orions are monitoring our channel. I'd hate to see something happen." Administrator Bort warned.

 

"I'll take your advice into consideration, administrator. Thank you for all your help."

 

"Any time Captain." The Administrator closed the channel quickly.

 

Aznia walked down to the transporter room briskly, meeting Ensign Keesa at the controls. "Energize"

 

A figure began to appear on the transporter pad. Upon materializing, the Yridian vanished in a flash from the transporter pad.

 

"Deet to Dewoh, they've taken the bait!"

 

"Coordinates are routed to your console now! The Adaptive Supspace Echogram reflects a holding area under the Administrative capitol!"

 

A security team flowed into the transporter room to meet the Captain, "Beam us to directly to the administrator's office."

 

---

 

The team materialized in front of Administrator Bort's desk.

 

"You're under arrest, Bort." Starfleet officers beamed in on every level of the facility. "Where are my men being held."

 

"What do you think you're doing, Captain?" The Administrator disregarded the charges. "You have no basis to make such claims!" The Bolian became visibly nervous.

 

She turned to the Administrator, "What I didn't tell you is that we found a way to track your Folded Space Transporter. We just needed to give you an excuse to use it again."

 

"I... I have no idea what you're talking about. You have no business being here! You'll pay for these accusations!" The petulant leader bargained.

 

"Quallo and the Yridian informant are secure Captain." A security officer reported in on a comm channel.

 

"Huh. Look at that." Aznia taunted the Bolian.

 

"You've ruined everything. I was on the brink of destroying these vermin clans once and for all!! I got rid of their little barbaric sport, I've been instigating them for years, I've pushed them to the brink of destroying one and other, and I would've been there to clean up the remnant mess once they were gone! You've done this planet a disservice, Captain!" The Bolian turned cerulean with anger.

 

Deet didn't care about his agenda. "You're a kidnapper... and you're coming with me." she demanded.

 

Bort lunged at a control panel at his desk, activating a Folding Space transport. Before the security team could react, the Administrator had vanished.

 

"Deet to Federalist! He's used the folded space transporter!" Aznia alerted her ship.

 

"He's gone Captain. He transported to a ship that just cloaked and left orbit. We've lost him."

 

Quallo entered the Administrator's office with the Yridian leader. "Captain, I'm so glad to see you."

 

Aznia's face was stern, "I'll have you court martialled for this." Quallo was taken aback. "I ordered you not to miss your holodeck time." they both smiled.

 

---

 

Before the Federalist left orbit, Captain Deet beamed to the Orion gym, where there was one last piece of business to attend to. Again, she was were greeted by the Orion clan.

 

"Tellis, I thought I'd let you know that this situation is diffused, and Quallo is safe aboard the Federalist." she informed the large green man.

 

"That's wonderful news." he answered.

 

"There's just one thing..." Deet made sure that several of the Orions were within ear shot, "I looked into some financial records, and it seems that your financial accounts came into a windfall after Quallo's last fight. In fact, my crew was even able to contact the Reman arms dealer who sold most of the arsenal to you." Tellis began to look very nervous. Several of the other Orions began to turn their eyes angrily toward Tellis. "It's all right here in this report... awful coincidence, don't you think?" She tossed the PADD onto the ground, as the enraged Orion clan slowly surrounded their leader, backing him up against a wall. One angry Orion reaching down to pick up the report.

 

"This is... a... misunderstanding. I can explain this..." Tellis pleaded.

 

"I'm sure you can." Deet acknowledged. She tapped her comm badge, "Deet to Federalist, beam me up."

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"It's been years since our last encounter with the Borg. How many ships are we detecting?" Admiral Edinger Deet inquired.

 

"We're seeing one massive ship on long range sensors- unlike anything we've ever seen from them. We believe it is a Borg Unimatrix ship." Admiral Kathryn Janeway informed the veteran officer. "Our goal is to destroy it at any cost- or at least prevent its incursion toward Federation space. It's been 17 years since Voyager brought home a lot of information to use against them. Let's just hope we've spent our time wisely."

 

"Starfleet never should've dismantled the Borg Task Force! We might be flying right into our demise." The grizzled old doctor insisted.

 

"You're probably right, Edinger. There is no room to negotiate when it comes to the Borg. I once made the mistake of thinking I could reason with them. If it wasn't for my first officer reminding me that the Borg were like a scorpion, unworthy of trust, we would've been assimilated. When Starfleet dismantled the Borg Task Force, it was an action of compromise in the face of the greatest threat to the galaxy. We can't compromise when it comes to the Borg. And that means we need to call on some of our best officers to run some very difficult missions. That's what we need you to do here."

 

"What else is new?" Deet scoffed. "The fun missions always fall on me."

 

"We want you to board the Unimatrix Vessel. Your expertise in field medicine makes you the perfect candidate to beam aboard, lead an assault toward the vessel's bio-neural vinculum, and infect the vessel with a neurolytic agent that will disable its systems. If all goes well, they'll be able to beam you out when their system's go offline, as a full scale assault is waged on the vessel."

 

"We'd better get to work, Admiral." Deet left Janeway's office with a nervous confidence. He knew what had to be done.

 

---

 

Aboard his old ship, the U.S.S. Sunnyvale, Admiral Edinger Deet assembled his former crew in the observation lounge. "Captain Tala, you were my right hand through thick and thin. But this is your ship now, and I want you on the bridge. Coordinate with the armada, I'd like the Sunnyvale to be in charge of tracking our movements through the Borg vessel and beaming us out when the virus has been planted. Chief Engineer Rahal, Lieutenant Mach'lod, I'd like you to accompany me to the Borg vessel. I'll need a good engineer and someone with significant Tactical experience. I won't lie. This is a long shot mission, but you're the finest crew I've ever served with. If anyone has a chance, it's us."

 

"Admiral, we'll take care of this. There's too much riding on this mission for us to worry about fear." The optimistic young Engineer Rahal responded.

 

"Nikki is right. We will take care of this." The Admiral rallied his troops.

 

The senior officers stepped onto the bridge, the Andorian Captain Tala took her seat in the big chair. For a moment, Admiral Deet felt a little jealous. "Hail Captain Park of the U.S.S. Ra-ghoratreii"

 

"Three minutes until we're in range, Admiral; I'll be in command of the armada. We'll draw fire from the Sunnyvale as long as possible." Park informed. "Good hunting!"

 

"To you as well, old friend." Edinger responded. "We all know what we need to do!"

 

---

 

The boarding party met in transporter room 3. Edinger handed each member a modified rifle and sidearm. "These weapons have been refitted to fight the Borg. You will need to remodulate after every shot, but so long as you do, they will not be able to adapt. Don't open fire unless you absolutely need to, they'll ignore us 'til we're a threat. We need to act quickly, every moment we waste is a moment that the Borg can open fire on the Armada. Let's get this done."

 

The away team stepped on to the transporter pad, disappearing into the sparkling blue, only to reemerge in the dungeounous corridors of creepy a Borg vessel.

 

The human engineer opened her tricorder scanning the area, "The vinculum is this way. We need to hurry." Rahal reported. She had never faced an away mission like this, though she showed poise and professionalism throughout.

 

The away team passed several Borg along the way, none of whom acknowledged their presence. The vessel shook violently, making obvious the combat that it was engaged in. Sparks flew from conduits and gasses filled corridors along the way. But through the chaos, it all felt eerily calm to the away team. To be so close to such a dangerous adversary, without being acknowledged, was jarring.

 

They came to a junction, "The vinculum chamber should be just through this corridor." Rahal informed the Admiral.

 

They turned the corner, only to come face to face with four alert drones awaiting them. They opened fire, disabling the imposing drones. "They're engaged! We need to work quickly!" the Klingon security officer alerted.

 

The crew ran to the central vinculum, where Admiral Deet opened his medical kit. He ran a few scans on the bio neural circuitry as a firefight broke out between his team and the now imposing Borg. He injected a bio-neural conduit with a neurolytic agent- unsure this would be 'the one'. The reaction was immediate, as several systems began to enter flux. The damage wasn't total, but the affect was noticeable.

 

Captain Tala hailed him. "Admiral we're sustaining heavy losses, but the Borg have suddenly disengaged. It appears they're retreating. We need to get you out now, before they go to transwarp!!"

 

"I think they're on to our plan, cutting their losses. If they're retreating, we can't be aboard as they open a transwarp stream." he informed his team in a panic.

 

He tapped his badge "Beam us out now!!" a bright light flooded over his vision.

 

Admiral Deet found himself on the transporter pad of the Sunnyvale. He looked to his left and saw Lieutenant Mach'lod. And on his right, an empty pad.

 

"Where's Rahal?! Get a lock on her NOW!" He demanded.

 

The transporter officer banged on his console with all his vigor to find her pattern. It was too late. The target was just gone.

 

Captain Tala entered the transporter room, a somber look. "I'm sorry, Admiral. The vessel went transwarp just as we beamed you out. We were lucky to save any of you."

 

Deet threw his medkit against the floor with all of his strength, its latch broke sending his tools scattering across the room. He knew what had been gained, but the cost was hard to bear.

 

---

 

14 years later, Captain Aznia Deet sat at Quark's Bar on Deep Space Nine. The Federalist was docked at the iconic space station for minor repairs and supplies. The Captain used the off time to enjoy some of the station's amenities. "...so that's when I said 'Transporter? I hardly know 'er?'!" The Captain delivered a punch line.

 

Morn let out a hearty belly laugh.

 

"Conversations with you are always so enjoyable, old friend."

 

The Lurian responded only by raising his drink with a gracious smile.

 

The Federalist's Chief Engineer approached the Captain. "Captain, the ship should be ready for departure within the hour." the liberated Borg officer informed.

 

"Morn, I'd like you to meet my Chief Engineer, this is Lieutenant Commander First of Eight." The Captain introduced.

 

They briefly shook hands. The former human officer was polite enough, but was really more interested in business. She was much less lighthearted than her former human counterpart. Her skin was left slightly more pale then it had once been, and her artificial stimulated hair follicles carried a darker color than they used to. Minor bits of Borg technology remained apparent around her body. Her new ocular implants certainly looked much more human than the Borg eyepiece she'd been installed with- but she just wasn't the bright eyed, enthusiastic, optimist that she was before spending nine years as a drone.

 

Taking her leave of the Lurian, the Captain added "It's been nice to catch up with you Morn." She walked out onto the promenade with her Engineer. "Are you enjoying shore leave on DS9?"

 

"I paid a visit to cousin who's stationed here. It was an... unsettling experience." she struggled against the Borg within her putting road blocks between her and her humanity. "Thank you, Captain, for encouraging me to get back in touch with my humanity, but I've been trying to put the past behind me for five year. Getting back aboard a starship certainly helps, but I'm just not the same person I was."

 

"If it helps, Nikki. I think I know how that feels." The Joined Trill Captain was sympathetic. "I didn't go through what you did, but I'm certainly not the same person that I was then, either."

 

"Well, Edinger," she sarcastically quipped, "it is... nice to know that I'm not alone." a look of sincerity coming over her face.

 

"Hey cousin!" Captain Kurland awkwardly approached, "Do you mind if I have a word with Captain Deet?"

 

"Of course, Captain." First of Eight began to turn away, she turned back briefly "It has been... nice to see you James." the usually stoic Borg forced a polite smile stepping into a nearby turbolift. "Lower Docking Pylon A." she ordered as the doors slid shut.

 

"As kids, Nikki and I used to go fishing in the Curtis Creek holodeck program whenever she'd visit. I'm glad we have her back." the station Commander reminisced. "Oh, Captain," he snapped back to duty "I've received a communique from a Starfleet admiral on a top-secret diplomatic mission to the Gamma Quadrant. He's requesting to speak with you in person about a high priority mission. He's ordered you to take the Federalist through the wormhole to meet with him."

 

"Any idea what this is about?" Captain Deet inquired.

 

"The Federation has been in constant negotiation with the Dominion since the 'Second Wave' incident earlier this year. We've already delivered some equipment to your ship that our dominion envoys are typically equipped with. We'll upload the coordinates to your ship. Your orders are to meet the Admiral in 4 hours. I'm afraid I haven't got much more than that."

 

"Well, I'd better get a move on." Capitan Deet acknowledged.

 

---

 

 

The Federalist undocked from Deep Space Nine, setting an immediate course to the wormhole. The crew followed the uploaded rendezvous coordinates to an area of empty space in the Gamma quadrant.

 

"We're being approached by a Jem' Hadar Assault Cruiser." Lieutenant Quallo informed the Captain. "Should I raise shields."

 

"Only at the first sign of aggression Mr. Quallo." she responded.

 

"They're hailing us." the Ferengi tactical officer reported.

 

"Open a channel." she ordered.

 

An older human male appeared, his facial tattoo staring back across the viewer.

 

"Admiral Chakotay. I'm surprised to see you!" The Captain's tension decreased.

 

"It's nice to see you, Captain. I've got an interesting mission for you. Permission to come aboard with one of my aides?" The Admiral playfully requested.

 

"I have to admit this is an unusual place to find you. I'm sure you'd understand if I ask for a blood test when you come aboard." The Captain imposed.

 

Chakotay smiled. "I expect nothing less."

 

"Then, I'll meet you in the transporter room." the Captain answered before closing the channel. She tapped her commbadge "Mr. Span, meet me in the transporter room."

 

There was an unusual pause. "Yes captain, my apologies. Starfleet has supplied me with several blood test kits for the entire crew, and I... have my hands full unpacking them. I will report the transporter room immediately."

 

"Bring six of those kits with you." she answered.

 

Commander Span met Captain Deet in the corridor outside the Transporter Room. Saurian Lieutenant Dewoh accompanied the Captain, wearing his sidearm. They walked into the transporter room already occupied by the Bajoran Transporter Officer, Ensign Keesa.

 

"Ensign Keesa, energize." The Captain ordered.

 

Admiral Chakotay appeared before them, alongside a younger human Commander. "Captain, nice to see you again!" he gleamed. "This is my assistant, Commander Luther Harewood."

 

"Welcome aboard Admiral, Commander." The Captain smiled acknowledging each of them. "I think we should just get this out of the way right now." She gestured to the blood test kits that Commander Span held.

 

Commander Span started with Admiral Chakotay. The human blood sample remained red after being removed from the Admiral. Span set the sample in his bag. The next was Captain Deet, her Trill sample also remained red after being handed to Ensign Keesa. Ensign Keesa's Bajoran blood showed bright red as well after being handed to Lieutenant Dewoh. Lieutenant Dewoh's bright magenta Saurian blood remained unchanged after being handed to Commander Harewood. He then took a red sample from Commander Harewood handing it to Captain Deet to verify it's authenticity. Finally, Span drew his own blood which appeared dark Vulcan green. He handed the result to Admiral Chakotay for his verification. It remained dark green throughout. The admiral placed it back in Span's bag.

 

"Now that we are all who we say we are, how about we talk one on one?" Admiral Chakotay suggested.

 

Captain Deet escorted Admiral Chakotay to her ready room.

 

"Captain, we've been negotiating a long term treaty with the Dominion. I've been working with delegates from the Changeling species, and they've got some concerns that we need to address. One of the biggest terms of an alliance with the Dominion is a unified task force against the Borg. The first skirmishes between the Borg and Dominion have begun along the Delta Quadrant/Gamma Quadrant border. If they are to sign a long term treaty with the Federation, they want to use our knowledge to help defeat the Borg once and for all."

 

"What do they have in mind?" The captain asked.

 

"Several years ago, one of your crew was left behind on a Borg vessel during a mission to inject a Borg Vinculum with a neurolytic agent." Commander Harewood dredged up the painful memory. "The Dominion's Vorta bio-engineers believe they have engineered a neurolytic agent that can destroy the collective consciousness once and for all. It is designed to break to communication ports along the Borg technological network. Rather than attacking the organic components of the collective, it will break down their interlink technology. Theoretically, within moments of assimilation, every drone in the collective would be severed from the hive mind, and forced to function as an individual."

 

"This sounds ideal, but how do we help?" The Captain asked the Commander.

 

"Because this agent only attacks and spreads throughout Borg technology, it must be carried into the collective by someone who is already implanted with Borg technology. We need your Chief Engineer to be assimilated again- temporarily."

 

"We will be able to retrieve her?" The Captain demanded assuredness, unsettled by what they're asking.

 

"If the agent works properly, the network will break down the moment she is pulled into it. She should maintain her individuality all along." Commander Harewood insisted. "We can beam her out as the other drones 'wake up'. We just need to time our moves carefully."

 

"But it's not without it's danger," Admiral Chakotay added with honesty. "We call on Starfleet officers to make these sacrifices all the time. I hate the notion of putting someone who's been through assimilation, through that process again; but as Commanding officers, we must constantly put your crew at risk... We should bring Lieutenant Commander Rahal in on this plan right now."

 

"First of Eight" The Captain corrected. "Her name is now First of Eight."

 

Lieutenant Commander First of Eight was summoned to the ready room. "Is there something I can do for you Captain?"

 

"Yes, I'd like you to meet Admiral Chakotay and Commander Harewood, they have a proposal for you.

 

"We have a mission that can deal a crippling blow to the Borg." Admiral Chakotay started.

 

First of Eight responded anxiously- cutting off the explanation with a rare sense of revenge in her voice, "What can I do to help."

 

The officers hashed out the details of the plan. The Federalist was to escort Admiral Chakotay's Jem' Hadar ship through the wormhole, and to the Gamma Orionis transwarp conduit. There they would engage a Borg vessel and send First of Eight in a shuttle, through the Borg shields, to beam aboard and be assimilated. Once the agent is transmitted throughout the collective, the Borg shields sill fall, and First of Eight would be beamed back to the retreating Federalist.

 

It all felt too perfect to Aznia.

 

The meeting ended, and preparations began. Aznia walked to Sick Bay to meet her first officer and doctor "Mr. Span, have you been provided with samples of the Admiral's neurolytic agent?"

 

He answered, "Yes, Captain. It's quite impressive bio-engineering. It has no effect on biological cells, but it is devastating to specific technologies. This agent will disrupt any communication interlink each drone's technological components. It's also extremely infective. The moment this is released into the collective, it will spread almost instantaneously throughout, disconnecting millions of drones from the hive."

 

"So you think this is something that First of Eight should do?" The captain asked.

 

The Vulcan doctor responded coldly, "It is a logical course of action."

 

"Thank you Mr. Span." She walked out of sick bay, not feeling quite right about this plan.

 

---

 

The next morning, the Federalist arrived in Gamma Orionis, and flew within sensor range of a Borg cube. Aznia walked to Shuttlebay 1, where First of Eight was working with Commander Harewood and Admiral Chakotay to equip her shuttle. "Are you sure you're comfortable with this plan?" The Captain asked, concerned.

 

"Yes, ma'am. I'm willing to take a risk to liberate all the Borg." She was confident in the plan.

 

Admiral Chakotay entered the conversation "Captain, your Chief Engineer is a fine officer. I've commanded some fine officers in the face of the Borg, and she's along with the bravest of them."

 

Commander Span entered the Shuttlebay holding a hypospray. "It's ready, Admiral."

 

First of Eight walked toward the Doctor bending her head away as to expose her neck to the hypospray. "Go ahead."

 

Span injected the agent. "You may pick up static on any remnant transceivers in your Borg technology, but it will subside."

 

"Captain, wish me luck." First of Eight turned to her Commanding Officer before boarding Shuttlecraft Daytona.

 

"...and Godspeed." The Captain added softly.

 

The shuttlebay doors opened, First of Eight left the ship to fly in range of a nearby cube. The deed was done, but the Captain still did not feel right about this situation.

 

"How confident are you in the loyalty of our newfound Dominion allies?" the Captain inquired to the Admiral.

 

Chakotay responded "The Dominion lost their first offensive war against the Federation over 40 years ago. Now, they're in danger of losing their first defensive war, with the threat of the Borg. They've showed me some of their long term projections in regards to the galactic balance, and let me tell you, they don't look good. They don't look good for the Dominion... or the Federation."

 

The Captain rebut, "Projections didn't look good for the Federation during the Dominion war either. History has a way of working itself out, and the Dominion doesn't have a history of trustworthiness."

 

"I'm reminded of a disagreement I once had with another Starfleet captain. She feared an alliance with the Borg against the Undine- but I convinced her that we need to focus on the greatest threat to our long term survival." The Admiral shared a familiar story.

 

Captain Deet raised an eyebrow. "Of course, Admiral." she cautiously took her leave of the Cargo Bay. She knew this story wasn't right. Her previous host had heard Janeway describe the story differently years earlier. She rushed to the Transporter room where she met Ensign Keesa, "Do you remember those blood tests yesterday when we beamed the Admiral aboard?"

 

"Of course, sir." The alert ensign responded.

 

"Who did Admiral Chakotay hand his to?" She probed.

 

"To Commander Span." she answered, confused.

 

"And Span?"

 

"He handed his... I think to Admiral Chakotay." the transporter officer responded.

 

"And I had Commander Harewood's..." Aznia murmured to herself. "Computer, locate Admiral Chakotay and Commander Span."

 

"Admiral Chakotay and Commander Span are both in on Deck 6, corridor section 32."

 

"They just left the shuttlebay together." Aznia put together the situation, "Computer erect a full level 12 force field around that section. Seal all walls and floors." she added "Security, send a team to Deck 6, corridor section 32. Two changelings will be contained within the force field. Keep and eye on them!"

 

Lieutenant Dewoh eagerly responded, "You can count on security to make it so!"

 

Aznia hailed hailed Quallo on the bridge and ordered him to bring the Federalist to intercept First of Eight's shuttle. The Ship shook violently as Aznia approached the bridge herself. She entered the command center of the Federalist. "Status?"

 

"The Jem' Hadar ship are targeting our engines, Captain!" Quallo informed.

 

Aznia responded "Do we still have some Surplus Deuterium from the Alhena station we passed last month?"

 

"Yes ma'am, I'll get it loaded up!" Quallo knew what to do.

 

The already quick Federalist enjoyed am extra burst of speed to outrun the Dominion Polaron weapons, and earn some distance from their weapon's range.

 

"We're in transporter range of the shuttle." Lieutenant Atom informed.

 

Aznia was relived to get her back aboard, "Beam her to sickbay. Tell Lieutenant Bluno to see what he can do about the Neurolytic Agent." She left the bridge to interrogate the changelings. Within the force field on Deck 6, Corridor Section 32, she found two changelings, who'd now reverted to more traditional changeling appearances. "What have you done with the real Commander Span and Admiral Chakotay?"

 

"They're being held aboard our ship. Let us hail them, and we will arrange their return." The changelings had accepted the failure of their plan.

 

"Computer, unlock the comm panel at station 32-omega." Aznia ordered, as a communications panel came online within the force field. "Use that to call you ship."

 

The changelings arranged for a personnel exchange as soon as they were within range.

 

Aznia ran to sickbay to find her ship's Pakled assistant doctor examining First of Eight. "I had to sedate her, but the transporter filters can get the agent out. Bio-filters can screen it before it metabolizes." The Pakled Dr. Bluno stated matter of factly, as Pakleds often do. "It would've metabolized within minutes, and killed her- and any other Borgs. The sedation slowed it all down so I could get it out. She's better now."

 

The door slid open. Commander Harewood stepped through with a phaser. "Hand her over, Captain. We're going to get this thing back on track. Section 31 and the Dominion have a plan that needs to be carried out."

 

"And by doing so, you'd murder an innocent officer?" Aznia responded indignantly.

 

"The Borg are the greatest threat to the Federation, Captain! What is one life compared to the billion that would be killed??" Harewood pleaded, not wanting to shoot Captain Deet.

 

"What is one life, Commander? One life is an individual- not a collective." The Captain argued for her incapacitated officer. "I'm not willing to let you turn us into a collective to defeat one."

 

Commander Span walked through the door directly behind Harewood. Upon seeing his Captain at gunpoint, he immediately engaged a Vulcan Nerve Pinch, rendering the Section 31 agent inert. "Captain, I suggest we return to Federation Space immediately. The Admiral and myself are back aboard, and the changelings have been returned to the Jem' Hadar."

 

"Deet to bridge, get us back to Federation space as fast as you can."

 

---

 

Safely back within the borders of Federation space, Aznia walked into engineering. "How are you feeling, First?"

 

The Borg officer looked somewhat annoyed. "I am... functioning satisfactory."

 

"I'm not just talking about your physical health." The Captain caringly suggested.

 

"You had an opportunity to destroy the Borg, and you stopped on my behalf. I would've carried through with the plan either way." The angry officer insisted.

 

A look of sadness came across the Captain's face, "We were lied to. Let's say we do stop the Borg. That leaves us with a more powerful Dominion threat just through the wormhole. If they couldn't get this plan approved without the aid of Section 31, and the deceptive imitation of one of Starfleet's most trusted Admirals, what makes you think their motives were worthy."

 

"Motives against the Borg are always worthy." The injured officer responded assuredly.

 

The Captain answered "Ends don't always justify means, First. I did what I thought was right. I protected your right to individuality the best I could. I refuse to treat you as a mere drone, who's right to well being ends where the interests of the collective begin. I'm sorry if you think I did otherwise, but I do not regret my decision, and I would do it again."

 

The Captain turned to leave engineering, as First of Eight's expression turned from frustration to sadness. "Captain," she stopped her commanding officer. "Would you like to go fishing on the holodeck?"

 

"The Curtis Creek Program?" Captain Deet smiled.

 

First of Eight Nodded affirmatively. "How about Eighteen-Hundred hours?"

Edited by KenJennings
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Time: The Final Frontier

 

"Captain Deet, may I have a word with you?" Lt. Atom approached the Captain's chair.

 

"Of course." The Captain stood up, gesturing for Quallo to take command, "In my ready room?" she asked Atom.

 

The two officers stepped into the Captain's bridge side office. "Bolian Tonic, three degrees Celsius." the Captain stated to her replicator. "Take a seat. What's on your mind?" She prompted her Science Officer.

 

"Captain, astrometric sensors are detecting an interesting phenomenon 2.3 light years from our present position. I've found a gas giant orbiting Nu Cygni that appears to be laden with an unusually high amount of chroniton particles." The Android informed the captain.

 

"Is there a specific reason you want to study this planet?" Captain Deet inquired.

 

Atom handed the Captain a PADD. "This is... a theory I've been waiting to see actualized."

 

Captain Deet scrolled through pages of thorough data, mathematical equations, and cosmological theory. She set the PADD down on her desk, looking mildly exasperated. She glared up into the Android's waiting golden eyes, "Lieutenant, could you give me an abstract?" she smiled.

 

"Of course Captain," he leaned forward "This planet's unusual chroniton field, along with it's relative size, allows us an unusual opportunity to attempt an experiment that I have postulated for some time. If we jump to warp in a precise manner, using the gravity of the planet to distort our course, we should be able to travel several minutes back in time. We can then reverse course, and return to the present..."

 

"Yes, I'm familiar with the slingshot effect for time travel, but isn't that normally performed around a star?" The Captain asked.

 

"It has typically been used around larger bodies than this planet, but in order to test my theory, we only need to travel several minutes through time to run this experiment." Atom Explained. "The goal is to use the ship's deflector to generate a tachyokinetic pulse while we orbit the planet. This will imprint the planet's chronometric field with our Tachyon signature. If we track the same course back to the present, again initiating the pulse at the same point in orbit; I believe we can open a temporal disruption in the orbit of this planet that is immune to the passage of time."

 

"Lieutenant, your work here is impressive, and it certainly appears thorough," the Captain continued to page through the data, "but is Time something that we should be meddling with?"

 

"Captain, any experiment has its risks, but the rewards could be immense." Atom seemed to show some semblance of passion through his emotionless Android exterior, "I do not believe the risk in this experiment is too great. We have an opportunity for incredible exploration here. Is exploration not our primary objective? Time may truly be our next frontier."

 

Captain Deet was inspired by her mechanical officer. It seemed like the Federation had lost that sense of duty to explore. "The Klingons, the Borg, the Undine... the threats we face every day. Somewhere along the line, the fighting made us forget the risks we must take to evolve." She pondered to herself. "This is your mission, Mr. Atom. Prepare a flight plan. I assure you'll cross every 't' and dot every 'i'."

 

Atom's face did not change, but somehow it seemed to exude happiness. "Thank you, Captain. I will begin preparations immediately."

 

Deet looked down at her drink as the Android officer left her office. Playing with Time itself was a bold step in exploration, and she wondered if she was qualified to make that call. It wasn't like she was meddling with history, it was only a few-minute long jump, the risks would be minimal, but the evolution of such knowledge could change the future forever. She didn't care. The opportunity to take a step into a new realm was too exciting, and it reminded her of the Captain's oath she took. Her crew deserved a chance to serve for once on the front lines of exploration, rather than the front lines of battle. It was their chance to go boldly.

 

---

 

Three days had passed before the Federalist was prepared to run the experiment. Every move had been carefully coordinated through the ship's computer by Lt. Atom. It was only a matter of moments before the coordinated sequence executed.

 

"Are we ready to make history... literally?" The Captain cracked a very small joke. "Let's make this happen!"

 

The excitement was abuzz as the crew skillfully carried out their orders.

 

"The countdown sequence has initialized." Ensign En'thaaz reported. "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one." he counted.

 

"Engage!" Deet commanded.

 

The Federalist jumped to warp from a distance out. As the ship grazed the gas giant's gravity well, telemetry pulled hard to starboard, whipping the ship at a hard angle toward a new vector at high warp. At the apex of the curve, the ship's deflector came abuzz, bombarding the planet's atmosphere with Tachyon radiation. The pulse seemed to disappear from sensors, as the ship traveled backward through the moments to a time shortly before it had activated the pulse. The ship dropped out of warp after what appeared to be just a second at speed. It coast to a stop on the far side of the planet.

 

"Bring us about." the Captain ordered. "How far have we traveled?" she asked, as the planet came about on the viewscreen.

 

"Three minutes, 14 seconds." Atom reported. "The key will be to time our return jump so that we engage the Tachyon pulse at the same spot, at the same moment. According to my calculation's we will want to engage in Two Minutes, 3 Seconds."

 

"Make the necessary preparations." she ordered.

 

The Aenar helmsman and Android science officer coordinated the return course quickly. Ensign En'thaaz reported "Readying countdown..." he counted back from ten to one again. The ship jumping to warp on an identical trip back the way they came. Again the deflector buzzed with energy, as they hit the center of the hard curve to port. This time, the planet responded differently, illuminating with energy. The ship exited warp at the experiment's originating coordinates.

 

"Exactly where we started, Captain. Time and location unchanged." En'thaaz reported the successful run.

 

"Bring the planet on screen." The Captain ordered.

 

A ball of light was left tethered above the planet at a low orbit. Chroniton particles from the planet danced in a fluid stream toward the newly created anomaly. It was like watching two bodies coalesce in a temporal tango. Time seemed to stop where the chronitons flowed from the planet, while the orbiting anomaly maintained an absolutely motionless core within the strings of chroniton radiation that flowed around it.

 

"It's beautiful..." she remarked in temporary awe. Gaining her composure, she inquired "Is it stable?"

 

Atom seemed to share the awe against his programming. "Yes, Captain. Everything appears as my calculations predicted. It should be safe to bring the ship in closer."

 

"Take us in." the Captain indicated to her helmsman. She turned to the back of the bridge, "Mr. Quallo, Prepare a probe to enter the anomaly, and return course to us."

 

"Right away." The Ferengi Tactical officer reported. "Probe launching."

 

The hollow sound of a shot firing from the lower hull echoed on the bridge. The viewscreen showed a class-6 probe leaving the ship's safety, and entering the perimeter of the anomaly. Instantaneously, the same class-6 probe re-appeared from the anomaly, this time turned back toward the ship.

 

"Fascinating." Atom exclaimed as much as an Android could. "Uploading data... it appears that the probe was actually in the anomaly for 45 seconds. It entered the center of the anomaly, reversed course, and returned to us. But from our perspective, those 45 seconds passed instantaneously. It would appear that time does not pass within the anomaly."

 

"Would it be safe to take the ship in?" The Captain asked.

 

"I believe so. The probe shows no signs of damage, and detected no discernable radiation or energy discharge. Nothing seems to be happening within the anomaly. Not even the passage of time." Atom answered.

 

"Has the probe been retrieved?" The Captain asked Quallo.

 

"Aye, it's back in cargo bay 1." Quallo answered.

 

"Take us in, Mr. En'thaaz." The helmsman nervously tapped his console as the ship lurched toward the anomaly they'd created.

 

The hull let out an audible whine as the Federalist crossed the chroniton energy barrier. The transition was more smooth than anyone expected. The silence inside the anomaly was stunning. The usual hum of the Federalist's systems seemed muted by the nothingness that surrounded them. From the interior, the chroniton energy field that surrounded the anomaly was still, where it appeared to flow from outside. The planet below stopped rotating. The stars even seemed to lack a shimmering luster. The Federalist found itself enveloped in the pure stillness of a moment of time itself.

 

"The anomaly is measuring at 900 meters in diameter." Quallo reported the measurement. "Talk about a place to get a moment to yourself..." The Ferengi played on the phrase.

 

"Captain," Lt. Atom interjected "I believe we can influence the passage of time within this anomaly by releasing short pulses of chronitons or antichronitons. The anomaly draws chroniton particles from the planet in order to maintain a bubble in time. By its very nature, the passage of time relative to this anomaly is contingent on the flow of chronitons cycled through its tachyokinetic matrix. If we generate additional chronitons from within, time will move forward. If we generate antichronitons from within, existing chronitons will be neutralized, and time will move backward."

 

"Fascinating." The Captain tried to comprehend the nuances. "Let's start very slow."

 

"Agreed. Generating chroniton pulse, duration one millisecond." Lt. Atom estimated a conservative duration.

 

The planet below flickered into motion through the outside of the anomaly. The chroniton barrier surrounding the anomaly flowed into motion momentarily. Time seemed to move for just an instant.

 

"Based on the rotation of the planet below, it would appear that we've moved 4.37 seconds into the future." Atom reported in.

 

The Captain answered "OK, now let's try a one millisecond antichroniton pulse."

 

Atom reconfigured the emitters, executing the command. Time again flickered into motion, seemingly in exact reverse of what they had accomplished moments earlier.

 

"We're back to our starting time, Captain."

 

"Well that seems to work like clockwork..." The captain realized the play on words "No pun intended."

 

"We should be able to go as far back in time as the creation of the anomaly. I do not believe we can go beyond that point, as the Tachyokinetic matrix would not yet exist." Atom informed his commanding officer.

 

"Make it so."

 

The ship emitted a short burst of antichronitons. As time passed backward, they observed the past Federalist moving backward in time outside the anomaly.

 

"What's going on?" The Captain asked.

 

"It appears that while we're within the anomaly, we are the only Federalist. But outside of the anomaly, our past selves will go about their actions as the already have." Atom speculated.

 

"Can they detect us?" Captain Deet worried.

 

"I don't believe so, as we did not detect ourselves." Atom stated matter of factly.

 

Captain Deet lightly facepalmed, "Temporal mechanics..." she sighed.

 

They watched as the past Federalist 'un-retrieved' the probe they'd launched earlier. The probe flew backward to the edge of the anomaly. When it reached the boundary, it simply disappeared.

 

"Where did it go? It should've instantly returned to the Federalist." Deet inquired.

 

Atom responded. "The probe spent 45 seconds within the anomaly. It should re-appear after that time."

 

Another 40 seconds passed with stillness outside, and the probe materialized at the edge of the Anomaly backing up to the Federalist's launch tube.

 

The Captain wondered aloud "Why didn't we encounter the probe in here?"

 

"Because it is back aboard the ship in our cargo bay. Within the sphere of this anomaly, it seems two items can not exist simultaneously." Atom handled the temporal issues with ease.

 

Time continued to march backward to the moment of formation. The federalist was frozen at a moment of high warp mere meters above the anomaly as it came into being. It was emitting a beam that intersected concentric rings of tachyokinetic particles that converged at the anomaly's location with a diameter of 900 meters. It was a stunning sight to see such an impressive moment in time frozen.

 

"Alright, Mr. Atom. Take us back to the moment we entered the anomaly. Let's make sure we can get out of here before we celebrate this achievement." The Captain nervously joked.

 

The chroniton particle buzzed as time returned to it's original state. The events of the past few minutes zipped by on the outside yet again.

 

---

 

The Federalist left the confines of the anomaly safely. They had essentially created the Federation's first safe, repeatable, two way time machine- though one direction had an originating limit. Captain Deet stood up to check the ship's status with Lt. Atom, but the moment she stood, a flash of light filled her chair.

 

"You have no idea what you've just done!" a man appeared sneering, wearing a Starfleet Captain's uniform.

 

Aznia turned back startled. "Excuse me. I believe you're in my chair." she regained her cool.

 

"You'd think Starfleet would have learned their lesson about Women Captains after Janeway got herself lost across the galaxy..." the arrogant man scoffed, shaking his head. "Now you threaten the entire time-space continuum."

 

"Would you be Q?" Aznia deduced, recalling some high level briefings she'd been privy to.

 

Q's demeanor turned slightly upbeat. "Oh, you've heard of me! It's wonderful to have such dedicated fans!"

 

"I take it our experiment has drawn your attention?" Deet cut through the pretense.

 

Q nodded. "Right to the point... I like that, Captain! Which makes my purpose here so much more painful."

 

Captain Deet's face went stern. "What do you mean??"

 

"I assure you, what I have to do is not out of malice. But there is just too much at stake!" Q snapped his fingers, disappearing.

 

The ship began to tremble. Alerts began to sound on every console. Aznia's comm badge was raised from her Chief Engineer. "Captain! We've lost containment in the Warp Core, we're only seconds from a brea..."

 

The warp core on the Federalist breached, sending a massive matter-antimatter explosion through every deck of the ship. The Federalist was ripped to pieces. All hands lost.

 

---

 

The chroniton pulse had returned the Federalist to a period 10 seconds after they entered the anomaly. "Perhaps we should take a brief look forward before we leave." Lt. Atom suggested.

 

"Very well." Captain Deet acquiesced to curiosity. "Move us 5 minutes into the future."

 

The chroniton pulse resumed. The crew began to watch in amusement as the future Federalist left the anomaly from a point just a few moments after their original entry. The ship moved out to a point of survey, and after several more moments, the crew was horrified to watch helplessly as their future ship exploded.

 

"What happened!?" The Captain shouted.

 

The crew tapped at sensors and schematics, trying to piece together the information they'd acquired.

 

"It looks like the warp core simply lost containment!" Quallo explained from a tactical sensor diagram.

 

"What could've caused that!?" Aznia pleaded. She tapped her comm badge "Engineering! Take the warp core offline now!"

 

The ship's humming inner workings slowed to a stop. The crew of the Federalist checked every system and subsystem for some reason that the explosion could've happened. There was no explanation.

 

"We've got all the time in the world to check this out." Aznia stated to her senior officers.

 

"I believe I have a a way to get us some additional data," Lt. Atom piped in. "The ship has already exploded once, and we were able to observe the phenomenon in the future. We could simply program our ship to relay all operational and sensor data through a compressed stream, into a secured 'black box' capable of withstanding the explosion. It can be programmed to transmit the information back to us several seconds after the breach."

 

"Make it so." The Captain ordered.

 

"If that is the case, then I believe we have already done it." Atom referenced a causality loop, as he tapped his console to move the ship another few moments into the future. As time began to move, the data transmission came in. After several seconds, it was complete. The Captain and her crew split up and analyzed the data from the black box transmission.

 

Commander Span chimed in, "Captain, you may want to hear this. I have an audio recording from the bridge."

 

The dialogue between Q and the Captain sounded for all to hear. "Q..." The captain sneered.

 

"Isn't the Q entity supposedly omnipotent?" Span inquired.

 

Aznia raised an eyebrow, "Then why are we still here? From what I know, Q doesn't have a history of that kind of violence without good reason... Our actions with this anomaly may present some weakness to the Q. If it didn't, he would be in here now, putting an end to our plans."

 

---

 

The Federalist again prepared to leave the anomaly. This time, the ship crept out at low impulse, hanging mere meters off the surface of the anomaly. They began to feign further scans of the surface in effort to deceive Q. Aznia stood up from her chair, Q appearing in her place, as expected. Taking this cue, En'thaaz immediately descended the ship back into the anomaly.

 

Q jumped up from the chair in panic, "No!!" he swirled his fingers in the air to escape, but had no success.

 

"Your powers don't work here, Q." Aznia stated with a sense of satisfaction.

 

"Captain, this does not change your situation. The second you leave..." Q was cut off.

 

"What? You'll kill us again? What if we just leave you behind?" Aznia enjoyed the chance to intimidate a Q.

 

Q smiled at the rare surprise of a worthy adversary. "Azzy, baby, you just don't know what you're doing here."

 

Aznia rolled here eyes.

 

Q continued "If you do anything to me, another member of the continuum will be ready to stop you when you leave. We can not allow you to continue these experiments!"

 

"Because we're outside of your power." Aznia stated as a matter of fact.

 

Q waxed and waned... "Sort of." he nodded "Let's just put it in terms you can understand and say 'yes'. You're outside the scope of our power. Like a monkey with nuclear arms. OK?"

 

"I can't let you kill my crew." Aznia pleaded with Q for an answer.

 

"Look, I don't want to do it, but the continuum made up their mind! The knowledge and processes you've acquired here can not be harnessed by the Federation for at least another 250 years! Literally the fate of all space-time could depend on it. Your feeble calculations are just not accurate enough to play with!" Q demanded.

 

"What if we agree to stop these experiments... to suppress all knowledge we've acquired." Aznia pleaded.

 

Q shook his head. "Your species aren't all the most trustworthy..." he looked at Commander Span "Vulcans alone are some of the most deceptive liars in the galaxy!"

 

Span simply raised an eyebrow.

 

"Look, Q. We need to solve this situation, or else we'll be sitting here in stalemate for a very, very long time." Captain Deet delivered the ultimatum. "This planet." Aznia gestured to the gas giant "If we had not discovered this chroniton rich planet, we would've never run these experiments."

 

"That's all well and good, but your walking, talking toaster still has the idea in his head." Q gestured to Lt. Atom, "If you allow us to dismantle him, I could find a way to spare the rest of your crew."

 

"Captain, please agree to it." Atom pleaded.

 

"No." Aznia wouldn't budge.

 

Q rolled his eyes. "You'll hinge a deal for your life on the fate of a glorified Buick..." he scoffed.

 

"Mr. Atom, if I were to give you an order to delete all of this research, and conceal it forever, would you do it?" Aznia asked.

 

Atom nodded. "Of course."

 

Aznia suggested a final solution. "Q, if we leave the anomaly, would you be able to travel back in time?"

 

"Of course, Mon Capitan." Q answered.

 

"If I record a message with orders for Atom, could you deliver it to his quarters say- one week ago? Then interfere with our ship's sensors to prevent the discovery of this planet. None of us need know you were involved."

 

Q nodded, satisfied.

 

"I hope I'm not making a mistake by trusting you." Aznia relented. "Mr. En'thaaz, take us out."

 

The moment the Federalist crossed the anomaly's barrier, a flash of light encompassed the bridge. The crew was gone, leaving only Aznia and Q.

 

"Where are they..." Aznia looked around, seeing no stars on the viewscreen "Where are we!" she demanded in a panic.

 

Q raised his hands as to bring calm upon the situation. "I'm not tricked very often. I would've gotten away with simply destroying you, if I hadn't overplayed my hand by visiting you first. I got reckless- which is exactly what you did too. You caught the great and magnificent Q off guard... I don't know if you understand how special that is, but it would be awfully unfair to take such a rare accomplishment away from a mere mortal... though you have no idea how close you came from transcending beyond that."

 

"If surprising the Q is such a rare and special event, then why have you gone to such lengths to limit our opportunities to do so again? Aznia asked rhetorically.

 

Q smiled widely "You've got to work very hard to keep something rare and special when you're as powerful as we... oh, and don't worry about the rest of the continuum. I'll deal with them. Farewell, Azzy..." he raised an eyebrow "...until next time."

 

Q flashed out of the picture, and Aznia found herself sitting at her desk in her Ready Room, 2 days prior. Lt. Atom sat across from her, waiting for approval to pursue his experiment. Aznia's face turned to sadness as she informed her science officer of the bad news, "Mr. Atom, I have to order you to delete every bit of that data from the computer, and erase that planet from our sensor logs."

 

"But Captain, the potential for discovery here is..."

 

Aznia cut the Android off "The potential for discovery is amazing. But the stakes are much higher than you are aware. Please, Mr. Atom, as a friend, and as your commanding officer, I need you to follow this order."

 

The Android was taken aback. He stood from his chair, expressionless. "It will be done, Captain."

 

Aznia smiled at Atom.

 

Atom looked back expressing confusion, but he did nod as to say 'you can trust me' before the doors to the bridge slid shut behind him.

Edited by KenJennings
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Been a bit since I wrote one of these.

 

Counterparts

 

"It's been an honor to serve with you, Captain." The transporter officer extended her hand.

 

Aznia smiled as she shook the hand of Ensign Keesa, "Congratulations Ensign. I'm sorry to lose you, but your journey has many new and exciting challenges ahead."

 

The Bajoran transporter officer stepped through the airlock, facing her future as Chief of Operations on Deep Space 3. As she disappeared around the corner, Aznia watched another officer emerge from the other direction. A tall, dark haired human woman walked up to the Captain, clad in red and bearing the three pips of a Starfleet Commander.

 

"Commander Elsie Walesa reporting for duty, Captain." she seemed nervous.

 

"At ease Commander. Welcome to the Federalist." The Captain greeted her new first officer. "Have you familiarized yourself with the personnel aboard the Federalist?" she asked.

 

"Yes, ma'am. I've been studying the Federalist for days... since... since I got word of the promotion." she stammered.

 

The captain interjected quickly. "Good. I just said goodbye to my transporter officer. I want you to find someone from the operations department to replace her." the order came quickly.

 

"Um..."

 

The Captain quietly raised an eyebrow.

 

"Aye sir, right to it!" The Commander snapped alert before rushing off to her duties.

 

Aznia turned back to the corridors of her own ship, she strolled a short distance to the deck four sickbay. Entering the room, she received a typically cold reaction from her Vulcan chief medical officer. This time, it seemed to impact her more, but she thought that might be a reflection of her own attempts at empathy.

 

"Commander Span, I just wanted you to know that Commander Walesa has reported for duty, so your are hereby relieved as first officer."

 

"Understood, Captain." the Vulcan said bluntly before turning back to his console to work.

 

"I want you to know... this isn't a reflection..."

 

The Vulcan doctor interrupted. "Captain, you do not need to be concerned with my feelings. Bringing a new executive officer aboard was your prerogative."

 

"Well, Mr. Span. I want it to be clear, this is no reflection on your performance. I simply felt that your attention should not be split between sickbay and command duties." she softened her tone. "Your performance as both our doctor and as my second in command has been exemplary."

 

Span was confused by the Captain's tone. "If I were human, I would say that there is no need for you to... walk... on eggshells... but I do appreciate the sentiment." he nodded.

 

Aznia turned to leave sick bay, "Thank you, Mr. Span." she exited to the corridor.

 

The Captain's combadge chimed. "First of Eight to Captain Deet."

 

She tapped to acknowledge. "Go ahead."

 

"The food replicators have been loaded aboard, recommend we set a course for the Arvada colony immediately."

 

"Right. We'd better get a move on right away. There are a lot of hungry people on Arvada since their agricultural diversity was decimated by the Rana fungus." The Captain tapped her combadge again "Deet to En'thaas, set a course for the Arvada system, warp 7."

 

"Aye, Captain" the helmsman responded.

 

Aznia retired to her quarters for the night. It had been a hectic day with the personnel transfer and the cargo load from DS3.

 

She fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

 

---

 

"The time is 0530 hours" the cold voice of the computer woke the captain as the light shined on.

 

Aznia began her morning routine, taking a sonic shower, brushing back her long blonde hair, and tying a Risian daisy into the knot on her pony tail. Once ready, she stepped out of her quarters and began to walk toward the bridge. She turned a corner and found a crewman working over a disassembled bulkhead.

 

The Captain scanned the work being done. The crewman was removing one of the Federalist's Borg-nanoprobe-enhanced bio neural gel packs from an ODN line. The crewman also had a maintenance cart stacked with a number of the Federalist's prototype Borg-enhanced systems. The systems didn't seem to be related to each other, and the work seemed very mottled.

 

"Crewman, what are you working on here?" Deet sternly inquired.

 

The crewman turned around to face the Captain, it was Ensign Keesa.

 

"Ensign?? What are you doing here?"

 

"Um... Lt. Atom asked for a hand... with some... enhancements he's working on. I'm just helping out." The Bajoran Ensign nervously patched together an answer.

 

"No, I mean what are you doing on the Federalist? I watched you transfer off to DS3 yesterday." The Captain motioned forward as to corner the suspect Ensign.

 

"This is... uh... this is all a misunderstanding." Keesa lunged quickly past the Captain's side, slapping a device on the maintenance cart she had loaded up. In an instant, the entire cart transported away; along with the Ensign.

 

"Deet to Security, we had an intruder on deck 4, several parts were stolen. I want an account of everything that's gone missing." she tapped her badge again "Deet to First of Eight..." this time she waited for a response, but it did not come.

 

"Computer locate First of Eight."

 

"First of Eight is in main computer core access room B."

 

The Captain rushed to the access room, summoning Commander Span to meet her there. First of Eight lay unconscious on the floor as the primary computer core sit partially dismantled. Span followed in shortly behind, "It appears that she has been stunned, Captain. She will be fine." he pressed a hypospray against her neck, as consciousness slowly returned to the Chief Engineer.

 

"Captain... I was alerted that the ship had switched over to the auxiliary computer core. When I entered the room to investigate, Ensign Keesa was here... she stunned me before I could react." Anger flashed in the liberated Borg officer's voice.

 

"It appears she also took a sample of your nanoprobes, Chief." Span informed as he worked his tricorder.

 

First of Eight rubbed her hand against her neck, almost expecting to feel some kind of injury where the nanoprobes had been taken. "Why would Keesa do this?"

 

"That wasn't Keesa." The Captain assured... "...at least not the Keesa who left our ship yesterday. We'll get to the bottom of this. Chief, I want you to account for every stolen part. We'll meet in the observation lounge in one hour."

 

"Aye, ma'am."

 

The officers parted to begin the investigation.

 

---

 

The senior staff met in the observation lounge. Lt. Dewoh was first to speak up. "Through the mirror, Captain!" he cryptically mused "The internal sensors showed an unmistakable ionic charge in her beaming when she vanished. She gone to the mirror universe, no doubt." The Saurian stumbled through the sentence.

 

"The mirror universe? I'm sure we've all read the stories of what a dangerous place it can be..." Deet shot a look toward her Engineer "Do we know what she took?"

 

"A remodulating adaptive shield matrix, a transwarp driver coil, a nanoprobe infused bio-neural gel pack, our computer core's data transfer vinculum, and a sample of my nanoprobes. All unrelated systems, but all derived from Borg salvage technology." she reported.

 

"Walesa, I'd like you to assemble a team. Find a way to go after our equipment." Deet ordered her first officer.

 

An unfamiliar voice interjected, "I don't know if we can, ma'am..." a Cardassian Yeoman leaned forward.

 

"This is Yeoman Volor, Captain." Walesa interjected "...our new transporter chief."

 

Aznia nodded, acknowledging the new face.

 

"I'm just not confident that I can successfully transport someone to the mirror universe. And if I did, I wouldn't know where to send you. I could beam you right into empty space!" Volor admitted his inexperience.

 

Deet rested her face in her hands briefly. "I want options! I will not stand idly by as some of our most powerful technology is simply stolen away."

 

"Captain," the android science officer piped in "I believe we could try to take the entire ship into the mirror universe."

 

"Go on." the Captain was intrigued.

 

Atom explained his plan, "If we ionize our hull to the correct modulation, then proceed to open a warp bubble around the ship; we could collapse and invert the bubble, which would react with the ionic modulation in our hull, and pull us into the same point in space- but in the mirror universe."

 

"What are the risks?" Deet was concerned.

 

First of Eight chimed in. "If the modulation is incorrect, and the warp field collapses without inverting exactly, it could lead to a massive power overload in the core... even a core breach... but Lt. Atom's calculations are generally sound. The risk is manageable."

 

Aznia nodded, agreeing. "Let's do it."

 

The bridge crew stood up, united behind the captain. Everyone turned to leave the room except Commander Span. "Captain, is it logical to engage in such a risk in order to pursue non-critical systems? Nobody has been injured, we are not in imminent threat, and we are only a day's flight from Arvada. I suggest our best course of action is to report this incident to Starfleet and to complete our urgent delivery."

 

Aznia stopped for a moment. She felt he had a point. She tapped her combadge, nodding to acknowledge Span's point. "Deet to Lt. En'thaaz, I want you to prepare to bring the Federalist into multi-vector mode. I want you to take command of the Alpha section, bring all non essential personnel, and deliver the food replicators to Arvada."

 

Span raised an eyebrow approvingly.

 

"I appreciate your input Commander. But it's important that we act quickly to retrieve our technology. There's just no telling what effect that technology could have on the future of their universe. I'm not sure how the prime directive applies to the mirror universe, but I believe it is our duty to stop them from using that equipment... I want you to go with Walesa aboard the Beta module. I'll remain in command of the Gamma module. We'll coordinate once we're in the mirror universe." Aznia's tone softened, "Span, I need your support on this one."

 

Span nodded, "I respect your orders, Captain. You always have my support." he left Aznia alone in the observation lounge.

 

Aznia relished several seconds of silence before re-entering the bridge.

 

"Mr. En'thaas, are you ready to sit in the big chair?" Aznia taunted, as the young Aenar helmsman smiled widely. She gestured for him to sit in the Captain's seat. She nodded and grinned as he melted into the role. Aznia joked again, "Permission to leave the bridge... Captain?"

 

"Of course..." He responded confidently. A moment passed before he turned his head to acknowledge his superior, "...Captain."

 

"And don't mess with my settings. I've got the lumbar support just how I like it." Aznia chuckled for a moment as she boarded the crowded turbolift with the rest of the bridge crew. "Gamma Module Battle Bridge." The command slid the the doors shut.

 

The crew took their positions on the respective ship modules, the saucer successfully separated and warped away, leaving the Beta and Gamma sections behind to exit the universe.

 

Aznia winced at the discomfort provided by the Gamma battle bridge Captain's chair. "Are we ready to try this?"

 

"On your mark, Captain" the Chief Engineer reported.

 

"Go." Deet responded, somewhat unceremoniously.

 

The ship trembled lightly, static filled the view screen, and instrument panels flickered... but the ship emerged in one piece.

 

"Readings confirmed Captain, we are in the mirror universe." Atom reported.

 

Aznia turned to Lt. Commander Quallo "Long range scanners, any ships?"

 

"I've got a few different signals. One seems to be a fire fight between two ships, the other readings are... more unusual."

 

She tapped her combadge "Walesa, take the Beta module to investigate the unusual readings. I'll take Gamma to investigate the fire fight."

 

"Aye, Captain." Walesa closed the channel as the Federalist's remaining two modules separated, going their separate ways.

 

---

 

The Federalist's Gamma section approached a fire fight in progress. Another Prometheus class starship was being attacked by a modified Plesh Brek class Raider.

 

"Our equipment is aboard that ship, Captain... the hull markings identify it as the I.S.S. Imperialist." Quallo informed the captain.

 

"Let's take advantage of this fire fight. Look for a weak point in their shields. Atom, see if you can punch a hole with a tachyon beam." Aznia tapped her combadge. "Deet to Mr. Volor, prepare to lock on to our equipment and beam it over as soon as you can get through their shields."

 

A white light fired from the Gamma module toward the Imperialist. "Their shields are down!" Quallo shouted.

 

"Have you got them Mr. Volor??" Aznia inquired to her transporter officer.

 

"No, ma'am, I'm afraid not. They're... just gone." He nervously answered.

 

"The raider is disengaging, Captain." Atom informed "I believe they have our equipment."

 

Before either Federalist could pursue the raider, it managed to activate a gravity well, snaring the counterpart vessels while they escaped.

 

"We're being hailed." Quallo alerted the Captain.

 

"On screen."

 

The familiar face of Walesa sneered back through the view screen. "I'm Captain Walesa of the I.S.S. Imperialist. You have no idea what you just did..."

 

"Who were those people? Where are they taking our equipment?" Deet demanded to know.

 

"You just turned over your advanced technology to the terrorist Maquis... I can't be sure what they plan to do with it. I'd guess they'll use it as a weapon of mass destruction!" Walesa argued.

 

"Then why did you bring this technology into your universe!?" Deet proclaimed.

 

"It's them or us. I'll take us every day."

 

"You had no right!" Deet yelled.

 

"Well... I did. Now, I'd rather you take your technology back than allow the Maquis to have it. So do you want our help or not?" Walesa laid it on the line.

 

---

 

A half sector away, the Federalist's Beta module approached a swarm of strange misshapen ships. The hive of ships, all various sized, conglomerated and separated again and again into a central plexus with stunning coordination.

 

"They sent us a hail, Commander!" Dewoh alerted.

 

"On screen." Walesa ordered.

 

A fit older man appeared on the screen. Long white hair flowed to his shoulders, he appeared augmented with several minor cybernetic implants. "I am Khan or Borg. Welcome to my collective."

 

Walesa turned to Dewoh "The Borg...??" she mouthed silently. She turned back to the viewer "I'm Commander Walesa of the Federalist. We are simply looking for some property stolen from us. We don't wish to join your collective."

 

"Oh my, no. Perhaps our reputation precedes us... we no longer assimilate drones. We genetically engineer them... But I am interested in this stolen property you speak of." The suave old drone stated in a somewhat intimidating tone. "I propose we meet to discuss things."

 

"We'd be glad to welcome you here, we'll transmit coordinates immediately." Walesa closed the frequency, then turned back to see Dewoh looking on nervously. "They've made no aggressive move against us thus far... standard diplomatic procedure. See if we can get a diplomatic banquet together quickly in that conference room on deck 7."

 

Walesa, Span and Dewoh met the Borg delegation in the transporter room. Khan appeared with two other drones. They walked across the corridor to the makeshift banquet room that had been set up at short notice. Walesa gestured for the Borg to take a seat at the table. A pair of ensigns wheeled in a cart with refreshments and appetizers. Khan reached for a bottle of Terran Vodka... "Ah, it's been so long." he poured a small glass. "Thank you for your hospitality, Commander."

 

"Am I correct in assuming that you were once the human Khan Noonien Singh?" Span asked flatly.

 

"I haven't heard my full name in centuries. How would you possibly know that?" Khan shot back, stunned at the question.

 

Walesa cut in... "Were you a military leader in the eugenics wars?"

 

"Military leader? I escaped the military conflict." Khan leaned in to explain "We were bred to be super-soldiers... but with our superior strength and intellect, we also developed superior morality. We would not fight for their disorder. We wanted nothing of their war. I escaped our captors at age 16 along with 72 of my brothers and sisters. We fled to a facility in the Arctic. We waited many years in tough isolation, in hope that humanity would change enough for us to reintegrate. We occasionally received radio transmissions from around the world in the wake of the war. In 2063, we heard a transmission about mankind's first contact, and how Zephram Cochrane led the assault on our extraterrestrial visitors. I realized then... our future could not be on earth."

 

Span and Walesa looked at each other briefly to confirm their mutual confusion. Dewoh sat eagerly engaged and enjoying the story. "So how did you become this collective?" Dewoh asked.

 

"It was shortly after we heard about first contact. Several of us left our facility to discreetly resupply at a city called Gries Fiord, roughly 200 miles south. On our snow machines, we came across the wreckage of a Borg ship. While investigating, I was injected with nanoprobes, but my genetic enhancements left me able to terminate or restore my link to the collective at will. I quickly developed control and command of the local collective. We experimented with the technology available for some time, and began to augment ourselves with more Borg technology over the years. Eventually, we amassed the equipment and parts to develop a small transwarp engine using a salvaged driver coil. We left Earth in our makeshift space craft, and set a course for Borg space. We remained in transwarp for over 4 years before we found the collective, they were eager to assimilate us, but our superior will led us to guide the collective as we saw fit. So much has changed. We no longer assimilate new drones, we genetically engineer clones. If we want to advance our technology, we only need learn from other species. If we want to advance our biology, we only need copy the genetic advantages of other species."

 

Span raised an eyebrow, "Are drones free members of the collective? Are you their leader?"

 

"I am their King." Khan cryptically asserted his position sternly. He eased his tone "Now enough about me, Commander. Tell me about yourselves! I see your ship is a Terran design, but you do not share the markings of the Empire. Are you with the Maquis?"

 

Walesa was confused by the question. She did not want them to know they were from a mirror universe. Exposing the prime universe to a group of genetically engineered Borg seemed a cause worthy of avoiding. "We... stand apart from... the empire. But I wouldn't say we identify as Maquis." she towed the line carefully.

 

"What kind of equipment was stolen from you? Perhaps we can help you locate it." Khan invited.

 

"It is some sensitive equipment. I'd prefer it be handled by my crew. But I appreciate the offer." Walesa deflected.

 

Khan grinned ominously "Of course, Commander. We all have our secrets... If you need anything, feel free to contact us. Thank you for the wonderful company, but we must take our leave of you now."

 

Khan led his party back across the corridor to the transporter room, where they were beamed back to their ship.

 

---

 

The I.S.S. Imperialist completed repairs and followed the Gamma Module of the U.S.S. Federalist in pursuit of the raider that stole their equipment.

 

"Captain, the signal of the raider appears to be heading toward the vicinity of Beta module and the unusual readings we detected earlier." Atom reported to Deet.

 

"Hail the Beta module." Deet ordered.

 

Commander Walesa appeared on the screen, "Captain, we just had an unusual encounter..."

 

"First thing's first, Commander. We know who has our equipment. This universe's Maquis rebels just stole the equipment from our Terran Empire counterpart. They've set a course directly toward your position. Do you know who they might be hoping to rendezvous with?"

 

"Well, Captain... we just exchanged pleasantries with... the Borg."

 

"The Borg??" Deet was surprised.

 

"And not just any Borg..." Walesa explained, "They appear to be led by Khan Noonien Singh. This universe's Borg do not assimilate drones, they genetically engineer them from clones."

 

Concern set over Aznia's face... "The Borg and the genetic super-soldiers led by Khan posed two of the greatest threats to humanity in our universe."

 

"They seemed fairly pleasant here. He claims they left Earth to get away from the barbarity of mankind." Walesa joked. "But I agree with your concern."

 

"I'm sending you the last known trajectory and coordinates of the Maquis raider. I'd like you to set an intercept course." Deet ordered.

 

"Aye, Captain. Walesa out."

 

"Mr. Quallo, hail the mirror Federalist."

 

Another instance of Walesa appeared on screen, before Aznia could speak she inquired "What have you got, Captain?"

 

"Why did you target our Borg enhanced technology?" Aznia asked.

 

Walesa sighed, "Well, why did you engineer it? Because you seem to understand the threat the Borg pose. Our universe has the same problem. Anything that can give us a leg up against their cybernetic technology goes a long way."

 

"We believe the Maquis may be on course toward a Borg vessel." Aznia informed the mirror Commander.

 

"Anarchists!" Walesa shouted, "The Maquis are so hell-bent in their crusade against the empire that they would turn over deadly technology to the Borg!"

 

"Precisely why our technology should've never been brought into this universe!" Deet drove home the point.

 

"Spare me your self-righteous gloating." Walesa was focused on the task at hand. "We're prepared to destroy the technology if need be."

 

"We'll consider that a last resort," Deet acknowledged. "We'd still like to retrieve our property. Our Beta module is currently on course to intercept the raider."

 

"Tell them to prepare for an armed conflict. I wouldn't hesitate trying to negotiate. Blow them out of the stars and be done with it." Walesa warned.

 

"We'll consider your advice. Deet out."

 

---

 

The Beta module approached the Maquis raider.

 

"Mr. Dewoh, Raise shields power forward plasma cannons. Open hailing frequencies," Walesa ordered. "Maquis vessel, you are in possession of equipment stolen from this ship. Stand down and return the equipment, and we can go our separate ways."

 

The Maquis raider backed down. A return message arrived on the view screen. Walesa looked up at a familiar face "I am Aznia Deet of the Maquis raider Godwin... I assume you are from the mirror universe if this is your equipment. We mean you no harm, but this can change everything for us."

 

"We have strict rules about non-interference. We can't allow you to use our technology to change the course of events in your universe." Walesa pleaded.

 

"If we give this technology to the Borg, they will be able to push down the Terran Empire! We can end their tyrannical reign once and for all. Do you know how many planets are enslaved by the Empire? Have you seen the people starving outside the walls of the Empire's lavish facilities? Have you seen the children forced into labor, in the mines and the fields of subjugated worlds all throughout the quadrant??" Deet pleaded with Walesa.

 

"I can assure that if you turn the equipment back over to us, we will not allow the Terran Empire to take advantage of it either. This technology doesn't belong in your universe: for either side." Walesa demanded, "Hand it back over and we will make it disappear, without resorting to violence."

 

"It must be nice to live somewhere... where you can carve out these fine points of morality seldom worrying about matters life and death." Deet responded.

 

Walesa shot back "On the contrary. We live somewhere where we seldom worry about matters of life and death because we've carved out those finer points of morality. I sympathize with your cause, but we can not allow you to continue."

 

The communication channels closed. The Maquis raider scrambled to escape the range of the Federalist.

 

"Activate a tractor beam!"

 

"They've gone to Pattern Omega, I can't get a lock!"

 

"Target their engines, full power to phasers."

 

The Maquis ship was struck, and slowed to a stop. Warp plasma vented from one nacelle.

 

"Approach the ship, prepare to drop shields and beam our equipment aboard." Walesa ordered.

 

Span approached the Commander, "I suggest we belay that command. I've served with our Captain Deet for some time. If her mirror counterpart is anything like her, this is a trap. The moment you lower shields to transport the equipment, they will attack."

 

"How do you suggest we proceed?" Walesa asked.

 

"Now that they're at a stop, I believe we can hold them in a tractor beam until the Gamma module arrives. With both modules, we should be able to retrieve the equipment, while evading any counter attack."

 

"Engage the beam, Mr. Dewoh." Walesa ordered, "Thank you Mr. Span."

 

The tractor beam engaged, and the Maquis engines suddenly fired back to life as the ship struggled to free itself.

 

"Hail them again."

 

The screen flickered on again.

 

Mirror Aznia appeared on the screen again, "Alright, you've got me. Lower your shields, and I'll beam over your equipment."

 

"Stand down. When our Gamma module arrives, we'll take our equipment, and then you'll be free to go on your way."

 

---

 

The Gamma module arrived shortly thereafter with the I.S.S. Imperialist near behind.

 

The Maquis raider hailed the Beta module again, "We're not dropping our shields with an Empire ship nearby!"

 

Walesa acknowledged the concerns, "Hail the Beta module, Mr. Dewoh."

 

"Beta Module responding." The Saurian reported.

 

"Captain, we've negotiated a release of our equipment, but we'll need the Empire ship to move out of transporter and weapons range."

 

"Mr. Quallo, bring the Empire ship on split screen with us." Captain Deet ordered.

 

Walesa was surprised to see her mirror-self in command of the Imperialist.

 

Mirror Walesa spoke first, "How disappointing to see myself as subordinate to you, Deet. Your universe really is weak."

 

Walesa shrugged off the insult. "We need you to back out of transporter range so the Maquis ship will agree to the exchange."

 

"Oh we don't have time for this..." Mirror Walesa showed extreme annoyance.

 

"Captain! Do you want this to end or not!? We can make sure the Borg never see that equipment!" Deet pleaded.

 

Mirror Walesa had enough, "We set out to take that equipment for ourselves in the first place. I see no reason that should change now! Commander Keesa, close the hailing frequency!" The Mirror Universe bridge instinctively prepared for battle, "Lt. Rahall, target the Gamma module's engines with an aft phaser overcharge. Fire a full cannon spread at the Maquis raider and the Beta module!"

 

The Godwin's shields fell upon critical strike with the cannon spread. The I.S.S. Imperialist engaged at full impulse through the stunned conflict, transporting the Borg equipment aboard, then escaping at full warp before anyone could return fire.

 

"Deet to Walesa, our engines are shot. It's going to be hours before we can pursue! Go get them now!"

 

"Aye, Captain. I'll show them how 'weak' our universe really is." Walesa bragged, "We'll be back for you shortly!" The Beta module warped out in pursuit of the Mirror Federalist.

 

The Gamma module was left behind with the Godwin, both ships badly damaged. "Open a channel to the Maquis vessel." Aznia was shocked to see a dark haired version of herself staring back from the view screen.

 

"So, you're the Captain of the Federalist... or I am... I guess I'm not sure how this all works." The mirror Deet quipped.

 

"What have you done to our hair?" Aznia immediately joked to ease the tense situation.

 

Mirror Aznia simply glared back.

 

Aznia smiled, "How bad is your damage?"

 

"Our shields and weapons are offline, we've got engines and life support, but that's about all."

 

"Captain, if I may ask; Why were you trying to bring our technology to the Borg?" Aznia investigated.

 

The mirror doppelganger explained, "The conflict between the Empire and the Borg has been ramping up for some time. It's the first significant challenge to the Empire since the fall of the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance. The Maquis have resisted the Empire all along, but only now are we presented with a chance to drive a steak into their heart!"

 

"Then you'll be faced with Borg tyrants to avoid!" Aznia pleaded.

 

"The Borg have never been a threat to minor powers. They have no interest in assimilating or interfering with independent lives. Sure, they've toppled rival empires and worked to assimilate technologies; but their lack of desire to intervene in the lives of individuals makes them a preferable victor in this conflict. The Maquis have one goal: no more empires."

 

"Your universe's business is your own." Aznia explained, "But I can't have our technology involved. I hope you understand that. I also hope that you're assertion about the nature of your universe's Borg is correct. In our universe, the Borg present one of the greatest threats to individualism that can be imagined."

 

"Whatever can be done to prevent the Empire from using that technology, I think we can work together." Mirror Aznia stated sincerely. "If... you would be willing to spare some repair teams, I'd be happy to bring you aboard so that we can work together to aid your other ship."

 

"I think we can work something out. I'd like to bring my Tactical officer along." Deet suggested.

 

"We'll send you the coordinates."

 

---

 

Walesa tracked her mirror counterpart to an asteroid field several light years away. The chase turned into a game of cat and mouse, with the potential for an ambush lying around the corner of each asteroid.

 

"We could release charged baryon particles from our bussard collectors. We'll be able to track their wake through the particles." Span suggested.

 

"No." Walesa shot the idea down. "I appreciate the suggestion, but she knows we're looking for her. She wants us to track in closely. Scatter volley, torpedo spread, tractor beam... if she's anything like me, she likes to play at short range."

 

"How do you propose we proceed?" Span asked flatly.

 

"Launch a perimeter of probes around this area." she imagined a plan, "I want to hold distance, and know exactly when anything enters or leaves this field."

 

Span nodded to acknowledge "Unorthodox, but logical."

 

The I.S.S. Imperialist tracked with the Beta module several times. One inside the probe boundary, the other outside. They kept distance right at the limits of their weapons range. The Imperialist would open fire, and the Federalist would engage tractor beam repulsors to maintain a distance while lobbing a torpedo or phaser fire in their direction. It was a game of chess, one move to match another, broken up by occasional retreats from one or the other to repair systems and recuperate. But always, the distance was maintained to the advantage of the Federalist. During one break in the action, a perimeter alarm was triggered.

 

"Captain, the perimeter's broken on the far side of the field!" Dewoh alerted.

 

Walesa responded, "Is it the Imperialist?"

 

"No, we've got them on sensors nearby! It appears to be... oh no."

 

"Who is it!?" Walesa shouted.

 

"It's a Borg ship, Captain!" Dewoh regretfully responded.

 

"Open a channel!" She ordered. "Walesa to Borg vessel, I want to warn you that we're engaging in a military action in this field to retrieve our equipment. We advise you keep your distance until we've concluded this conflict."

 

Khan's voice piped in- audio only. "Thank you for the warning, Captain. But it's no worry to us. We're simply conducting some... salvage operations in the area. You need not worry about us." The signal cut off abruptly.

 

"This is not good." Walesa mused. "I think we all know what they're after." She turned to Dewoh. "Open a channel to the Imperialist."

 

"Imperialist, the Borg have entered the asteroid field in pursuit of you. Stand down and surrender our equipment immediately, then you can escape- free to go on your way." There was no response. "Imperialist, please acknowledge."

 

"I am detecting weapons discharge within the field, Captain." Span informed, "It appears that the Imperialist is engaged in fire fight with the Borg."

 

---

 

Deet transported aboard the Godwin with Quallo. Repairs to the ship had been completed. She was greeted in the transporter room by her counterpart.

 

"Nice to meet you face to face." Mirror Deet acknowledged. "And would you be Quallo?" she asked the intimidating Ferengi tactical officer.

 

"Yes I am. Do we know each other?" he answered.

 

Mirror Aznia smiled "Perhaps I could arrange for you to meet your counterpart, I'm sure he'd love some visitors in the galley."

 

"Galley?! I'm not a cook!? Man, this universe is messed up!" The tough officer was disappointed, but showing good humor.

 

Aznia chuckled, "I'm sure you make a fine cook, Quallo."

 

He just shook his head. "I think we should set a course to rendezvous with the Federalist right away."

 

"Follow me to the bridge." Mirror Aznia responded.

 

On the bridge, Aznia and Quallo encountered several familiar faces. Mirror Span manned the tactical console. En'thaas operated the science station. At least two other crewman from the Federalist had mirror counterparts serving here, "It makes me wonder how we all find a way to be together, given the differences in our histories." Quallo mused aloud.

 

"There's a lot we don't know about this universe Mr. Quallo." Aznia answered, "I'd be fascinated to study it more, but I'm more interested in simply getting our technology and heading home."

 

"Mr. Bohannon, set an intercept course for the Imperialist!" Mirror Aznia ordered her helmsman.

 

The Godwin warped toward the asteroid field where the battle was being waged.

 

"Hail the Federalist," Mirror Deet ordered.

 

Walesa appeared on the screen, "Captain, we've got a situation here. The Imperialist has confronted the Borg inside the asteroid field. We need to coordinate an assault."

 

"Agreed, Commander." Aznia stated. "I want you to sneak in from the aft of the Imperialist. Take advantage of the battle and do whatever you can to get through their shields. Beam the equipment out and head back for the Gamma module immediately. If we don't make it back in 30 minutes, your orders are to head back to our own universe! We'll distract the Borg."

 

"Hey, I give the orders here..." Mirror Aznia asserted her command. "...but yeah: What she said." Both Deets smiled.

 

The Godwin and Federalist split up, both entering the asteroid field.

 

The Federalist approached the Imperialist. The ship had been changed since they last faced off. A number of mechanical appendages had sprouted from the ship. The Imperialist looked decidedly assimilated.

 

"Our technology's not aboard! But they hail us, Captain." Dewoh reported.

 

"On screen."

 

Walesa was stunned to see her mirror doppelganger partially assimilated. Mechanical implants had sprouted from her face and neck. She stared blankly through the screen. "We serve the Borg. Prepare to surrender yourselves and your technology. You will be assimilated." the threat came flatly, like a Borg from her own universe.

 

"Open fire. Full spread." Walesa had seen enough.

 

Cannons, phasers and torpedoes all launched on the assimilated vessel. The crew of partially assimilated drones was unprepared to withstand the assault. The ship had not been assimilated enough to mount a response. The timing was advantageous to the Federalist. After several seconds of barrage, the crippled Imperialist was ripped to pieces by the powerful cannons.

 

---

 

The Godwin approached the Borg vessel, Khan hailed the Maquis raider, "Ah, the two Captains Deet... Nice to finally see you!" he maintained his suave, "As you may be reading, we've salvaged your technology. It is interesting: the Borg in your universe have implemented such perfection with their methods. We've never seen the need to assimilate individuals as we felt they would simply pollute our perfection. What we failed to consider is that by assimilating them, we can use them as servants to our pursuit of order."

 

"You can't let that technology pollute you, Khan." Aznia pleaded, "This is the kind of thinking that you tried to escape when you left Earth! You don't need to impose your order, you should be content to pursue it for yourself and your people! You were never meant to encounter the allure of this technology!"

 

"What is done is done, Captain. Your technology is now a part of us. This is just another evolution for us. Your mirror universe provides a whole new domain to explore. Imagine how grateful your Borg queen will be when I bring my genetically engineered army of drones along to take my place with her as a counterpart... as her King." He paused, "...but for now, Captain... to the task at hand." Khan gazed off to a subordinate drone, as the screen flashed off.

 

"They've got us in a tractor beam, Captain." Mirror Span announced.

 

"Polarize the hull, open fire!" The Godwin broke free, landing several ineffective hits on the Borg. Mirror Aznia turned to her prime counterpart, "I'm so sorry Captain, I couldn't know the effect this technology would have on them!"

 

"Worry about apologies later. Let's stop this now!"

 

"If we can stop them now, the technology and knowledge gained here will not spread back to their central plexus." Quallo informed the Captains.

 

"Torpedoes, phasers, fire everything!" the Commanding Deet shouted.

 

The Federalist arrived from around back a near asteroid, joining the Godwin in the fire fight.

 

"Captain, we'll drop shields for a moment, and I want you and my crew to transport back to the Federalist. I'll fly the Godwin down their throat at full warp." The mirror Aznia sincerely wished to right this wrong at any cost.

 

"We can find another way!" Deet demanded.

 

Mirror Deet resigned herself to reality, "No, there isn't another way. This needs to end here."

 

Aznia bowed her head to appreciate her counterpart's sacrifice. She tapped her combadge to bring Walesa up to speed on the plan.

 

"Alright we're ready, on your mark." Deet informed her ill-fated doppleganger.

 

Mirror Deet gave the order "Mr. Span, engage." she was shocked to feel a transporter beam at work on herself.

 

Quallo, Deet, and the small crew of the Godwin all materialized in the main transporter room of the Federalist. Deet was shocked to see her mirror self there as well.

 

Mirror Deet tapped a communications device on her arm, "Span, why I am on the Federalist!?"

 

Span responded, "I have been and always will be your friend, Captain. Live long and prosper." The channel was cut.

 

Mirror Aznia pounded the button on her communication device, "Span! Span!! Respond!!"

 

Walesa's voice came over the com system, "Captain, the Godwin just collided with the Borg ship, the Godwin is gone, the damage to the Borg ship is severe!"

 

"Open fire with everything you've got!" Deet fired back with extreme urgency. "Don't stop till this is finished!"

 

The Federalist fired cannons and torpedoes in a full indiscriminate spread. The Borg ship was reduced from a mangled vessel, to large pieces of debris, to small pieces of debris, and finally to space dust. Aznia took the bridge, her counterpart in tow, as the job finished up.

 

Everyone on the bridge sighed in relief, staring at the dust cloud that was an incredible threat to two universes just moments prior. Mirror Aznia made eye contact with Dr. Span for a moment before hanging her head in sorrow, reminded of the loss of her closest colleague and friend.

 

"Mr. Quallo, take the helm and bring us back to the Gamma module. Prepare to bring us back to our universe." Deet gave the order to end the situation once and for all.

 

"And you," Deet faced her doppleganger, "If you have any base of operations nearby, we can drop you off before we leave."

 

"I'll ask my crew." Her voice carried a sorrowful tone, "Some may wish to be dropped off on the fourth planet in the Moab system. There's a Maquis base there." She lifted her gaze to meet eyes with the Captain, "I would like to request a temporary asylum here. There's nothing left for me in this universe."

 

"Don't you have family? A home to go back to?" Aznia pleaded.

 

"My life was on the Godwin. Anywhere else I go, I'd just be a fugitive."

 

"What crimes did you commit?"

 

"Oh... just assassination. But I swear, he was a really bad guy." she nodded assuredly.

 

"May I ask who he was?"

 

"He was a particularly cruel viceroy of the Terran Empire... the prefect of the occupation of Andoria- a Trill named Edinger Deet."

 

Aznia was stunned to hear the name of her symbiont's last host.

 

Mirror Aznia softened her tone, "I was hired to assassinate him in order to help free Andoria... but as a Trill myself, I couldn't bring myself to kill a symbiont, so I kept it for myself."

 

Aznia raised an eyebrow, "Asylum granted."

 

"Thank you, Captain." Mirror Aznia left the bridge.

 

Deet walked over to Quallo. "It really is a messed up universe."

 

"Damn right. I'm no cook." Both officers smiled.

 

---

 

Several days passed, and the Federalist was re-integrated, repairs were progressing well, the urgent delivery to Arvada was a success, and the ship had docked again at DS3. Quallo stood at the airlock on deck four bidding farewell to his counterpart, "So you add the puréed gree worms to the roux and season it with Ferasan paprika? I'll have to try that!" They parted with a smile and a handshake.

 

Deet approached her mirror counterpart one last time to say goodbye, "Where will you go?"

 

"I haven't decided yet. I lived by the rule 'no more empires' in my own universe, but everything is different here... I've been reading about your Klingons- very intriguing. Perhaps I'll spend some time with them." She paused a moment, "I did make one decision: I'm going to go by the name 'Ainza', it's a mirror spelling of the name 'Aznia'... I'm the guest in your universe, so I suppose I should differentiate myself." She smiled.

 

"Wherever you go, and whatever you call yourself, I wish you luck. It's been a pleasure to meet another side of myself." Aznia extended her hand.

 

"Here's hoping our paths cross again." they shook hands.

 

"And Ainza-" Aznia added, "Why do you color your hair?"

 

"I'm an assassin. Dark hair suits my profession." She grinned widely. "Plus... I'm just not you."

 

Aznia grinned back as the two women turned apart. She walked away from the airlock, back onto the Federalist. She made her way to sick bay.

 

"Hello, Captain." Span engaged an unusually warm greeting.

 

Aznia set her hand on Span's shoulder and repeated the words she'd heard earlier, "I have been and always will be your friend."

Edited by KenJennings
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This story is written as a direct sequel to the Deep Space Nine episode "Far Beyond the Stars", so if you've never seen that one, you might be missing out

 

A Place Among the Stars

 

The brakes on city bus 29 squealed as it lurched to a stop. The narrow double doors folded open allowing a young woman to cautiously step off to the sidewalk below. She reached into the pocket of her long grey wool coat and extracted a ruffled scrap of paper "251 west 139th street, apartment 4" she read its lone scribble aloud with a British accent. Looking around at the addresses on nearby buildings, she stepped forward, nearly bumping into a passerby. "Excuse me." she apologized.

 

He shot her a curious look. It was Harlem, 1963, the lone blonde girl certainly looked out of her element. He pointed to a nearby door, "251 is just over there, ma'am." The tall black man had overheard her rambling. She couldn't help but momentarily envision the man with pointed ears and eyebrows.

 

She did a double take before smiling softly, "Thank you, sir." She moved on her way toward the building. She walked inside the apartment, up the stairs to the second level. She found apartment 4, and knocked on the door.

 

The door cracked open, a man remained obscured on the other side, "How can I help you?" he stated with a meek, if curious temper.

 

"My name is Anne Reece, I wanted to talk to you about a story."

 

---

 

"Captain?" Atom tried to get Aznia's attention, "Captain??" he raised his voice dispassionately.

 

"I think she's in contact with the prophets, Atom. That is a Bajoran Orb." En'thaas responded. "At least I hope she is."

 

Aznia continued to stare blankly into the orb. The glow of the alien object filled the quiet cavern.

 

Hours earlier, the Federalist retreated with six other Federation ships into the Gamma quadrant. Traditional warp travel in most of the Alpha quadrant had been rendered impossible as Omega particle detonations cascaded in sectors from Tau Dewa to Eta Eridani. Species 8472 and the Elachi had developed some alternative means of faster than light travel, which gave them free reign to decimate worlds across known space. Qonos, New Romulus, Vulcan, even Earth... The Federation was in ruins. Loss of life tolled in the tens of billions. A coalition of surviving ships made a final stand at Deep Space Nine, and as the attacking forces approached the weakened survivors, a last retreat into the Gamma quadrant became necessary for survival.

 

When the Federalist led the survivors through the wormhole, Aznia guided the fleet to the Merik system. She led an away team to Merik III and proceeded into a secluded cavern in a mountain range on the southern continent. She acted as if she'd been possessed, with a singular obsession drawing her to these caves. Her crew was concerned with her behavior, but given the events of the last few weeks, it was the least of their concerns. They trusted the Captain. At the end of the tunnel, the away team found their path obstructed by rocks that had caved in. Aznia summoned every ounce of her strength to begin moving boulders. Her crew was surprised as her petit frame lifted boulders at least two-thirds her own mass. She was clearly on a mission, but no one knew what it was, not even Aznia; she simply knew she needed to move these rocks. It was a short time before the team uncovered an ornate box buried in the stone. Aznia lifted it out of the rubble and set it gingerly on the floor of the cave. She knelt beside it, opened its doors, and disappeared into the glow of the orb within.

 

---

 

"Oh... please... just go away." the aging black man disregarded his visitor, aiming to shut the door in her face.

 

"Please! ... Please Mr. Russell." Anne pleaded, jamming her toe in the door frame. "Your stories have meant so much to me!"

 

Benny Russell sighed. "What do you want? An autograph? How did you even find me??"

 

"It's about Deep Space Nine... the Federation... the future." I need your advice.

 

Benny's tone changed, "Deep Space Nine? How did you?? ... Never mind. Move your foot, I'll let you in." his tone resigned and softened. He shut the door, unchaining the lock. The portal reopened, and Anne stepped through. "Take a seat." he gestured to his couch.

 

"Mr. Russell, I just want to let you know how much of an influence you've been to me as a writer." Anne was effusive in her praise. "I want to show you something..." She reached into a satchel she'd carried with. She removed a manuscript and set it on a coffee table.

 

"Hold on a minute." Benny was confused, "My Deep Space Nine stories were never published. How did you ever read them??"

 

"My father was Edward Reece." Anne watched as Benny recalled the familiar name. "You sent him a personal copy of your Deep Space Nine series several years ago."

 

"Edward and I were colleagues for many years. We exchanged correspondence several times and critiqued each other's stories. I was sorry to hear of his passing."

 

Anne nodded sadly, "After he died, we found your stories in his office. I found myself so inspired by your Captain Sisko, that I began to write another series sharing that universe you created."

 

"Are you a science fiction writer too?"

 

"I've had my stories of time travel published a few times..."

 

"Time travel... just like your father!" Benny grinned.

 

"Just like my father." Anne resigned to the fact. "But your Trek through the Stars inspired me to take a new path. People need to read this. I would like to do everything I can to get these stories all published; but I wouldn't do so without your blessing."

 

"I tried to get these stories published ten years ago. I ended up doing time in a mental asylum for my trouble." Benny removed his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "People aren't going to accept that vision of the future." he suddenly recalled a story he'd read weeks prior, "You said you write time travel stories?"

 

"That's right." Anne smiled.

 

Benny rushed over to a bureau in the corner. He reached into a drawer on the top tier of the desk, retrieving a small science fiction magazine. He paged through to the middle of the issue, "I read this story last month, 'The Backstep' by A.C. Reece."

 

"That's one of mine." Anne nodded, "Did you enjoy it?"

 

"I did. Your father would be very proud of such fine work. I should've realized you were his daughter when I read the story."

 

"...or at least his son." Anne quipped, "I've still yet to get any work published with my full first name."

 

Sadness washed over Benny's face, "Like I said: all this time, and people still aren't going to accept a better vision of the future."

 

Anne leaned forward in her seat to assert herself, "We need to show them what kind of future it can be. They can't accept it until we create it."

 

"Well..." Benny took a seat in a chair beside the couch. "...it couldn't hurt to take a look at the future you've created." They began to read the manuscripts together.

 

---

 

"Walesa to Atom," a fuzzy communicator signal came through.

 

"Go ahead, Commander." the Android tapped his insignia badge.

 

"We've received a communication from the Dominion. They've agreed to help us blockade wormhole to make a stand against any Undine or Elachi ships that might try to come through." She spoke with urgency to finish this mission, "We need to leave and meet them there. Has the Captain finished her mission?"

 

"No. She appears to be in the midst of a Bajoran Orb vision. I suggest we continue here."

 

"We'll beam a subspace communications array down at the foot of that cavern. You should be able to link your communicators into it, and remain in contact with the ship. Let us know if anything changes."

 

"Aye, Commander. Atom out."

 

The channel closed, En'thaas looked up from his tricorder at the Android science officer, "I'm not fond of the notion of spending the rest of my life on this rock."

 

"While this planet has a breathable atmosphere, unfortunately there is no flora or fauna on the surface. We also have yet to detect any drinkable water." The Android was very matter of fact. "There is still time to have the Federalist beam you up."

 

"No, I'll stay here with you and the Captain. This mission needs to succeed one way or another."

 

---

 

"She was somewhat inspired by your character Dax." Anne explained her Captain. "I imagined a character who was cast in the shadow of a truly great man, but becomes conflicted with her own aspirations and drives: struggling to succeed in his world. Your Trill species presented a unique angle on that motive. A female captain may be controversial- but with the experiences and memories of an established male captain, I think I'm giving the reader every reason to accept her. They'll be drawn in, then they will discover that she is very much her own person."

 

"I can see where you've pulled that kind of inspiration from. The best characters are drawn from within ourselves like that." Benny nodded approvingly.

 

"I just don't know how we can end this." Anne moved forward in the story. "I've began to write the end as a cataclysm. A way to close this book once and for all. But it doesn't feel right."

 

Benny thought about it for a long moment, "This is a story of hope. Of course these people will see their challenges, but my stories inspired you to write the next generation for this universe. I'd like for you to inspire someone to do the same and leave it open for the future authors to pave the way to their own brighter tomorrow."

 

Anne was torn. She remembered her father's writing style emphasized importance on giving the reader closure. Her stories about time travel always worked to close a predestination paradox or end where they'd begun. But this was a departure. Maybe it was a time to let old habits die.

 

The dead bolt on the apartment door unlatched, the door opened, and a woman walked in with a bag of groceries. She stopped and met eyes with Anne. "Uh... Hello there."

 

Benny and Anne both stood up. Benny quickly moved to take the groceries off the other woman's hands "Anne Reece, I'd like you to meet my wife Cassie." He said as he carried the bag in toward the kitchen "Cassie, this is Anne, she's Edward's daughter. She came to talk to me about Deep Space Nine." he passed through the door, leaving them together in the living room.

 

Cassie's attention shifted back to Anne, "It's nice to meet you, Anne. I was sorry to hear about your father, Benny was very upset when we heard the news."

 

Anne smiled softly, "Thank you. I want to apologize for bringing my work to your home. I couldn't find another way to reach you."

 

"Ever since Deep Space Nine was left unpublished, Benny has separated himself from his past work as a writer. This is the first time I've seen anyone talk to him about his work in years." Cassie sounded almost relieved that her husband was acknowledging his passion again, "Would you like to stay for supper? I'm making a meatloaf tonight."

 

Anne grinned widely, "I'd love to. Thank you very much."

 

Benny walked back in the room, "Where are you staying, Anne?"

 

"I just got in town this afternoon. I was going to find a hotel this evening."

 

"Nonsense. We have an extra bed in Benny's writing room." Cassie interjected immediately.

 

"Oh, I'd hate to impose."

 

Cassie cut her off. "It's no imposition. I'm glad to see someone use the space for a change." she shot a look back at Benny to suggest he begin his writing again.

 

Anne smiled graciously, accepting their offer.

 

---

 

The Federalist stood guard at the wormhole alongside the survivors' convoy and the Dominion fleet. The stand would be made here, and everyone held out hope that the prophets would somehow do away with the Undine-Elachi fleet. Tension was high as the crew waited to see how the events of the next few moments would play out. The fate of the entire galaxy seemed to rest in their actions.

 

"The wormhole is opening!" Quallo shouted across the bridge.

 

Walesa sighed, "It looks like the Captain's mission was no success... Send a message back to the away team. We're engaging the enemy. All hands to battlestations, red alert!"

 

The Undine and Elachi ships flooded through the wormhole as a torrent. Every color of energy fired across space as torpedoes ripped through shields and hulls. The conflict was intense, and the Undine allied forces took heavy losses. The enemied just continued to push through the wormhole. The Federalist was one of the last ships to remain on the Federation side.

 

"Can we do something to close the wormhole??" Walesa shouted to her bridge crew for ideas.

 

Chief Engineer First of Eight piped in from the aft engineering station, "It would take a vast amount of energy... perhaps if we breached the core exactly at the mouth of the wormhole."

 

"Can we go into multi vector mode and evacuate everyone into the alpha module?" Walesa inquired.

 

Quallo mournfully answered "Multi vector systems are offline."

 

"Take the ship in." Walesa ordered, "All hands to emergency escape pods, abandon ship!"

 

The bridge crew scrambled, Walesa decided to go down with the ship and assure the plan succeeded. The ragged ship weaved itself through the battle and readied the destruct sequence. Once the ship was in position and the crew was evacuated, Walesa looked down at the control pad on the arm of the Captain's chair. The self-destruct sequence was armed and could be activated at the push of one button. She hesitated for just a moment...

 

---

 

After supper, Anne retired to Benny's modest writing room. She continued to write her apocalyptic ending for a short time, but couldn't bring herself to pen down the destruction of the Federalist. She sighed for a moment before resting her face in her palms. At that moment, she realized that this was likely the desk where this story began. She imagined Benny writing down the first tales of Ben Sisko, she remembered a story with its genesis at the very wormhole that she prepared to destroy. It was a full circle. It was a predictable style that she felt too tied to.

 

Anne set aside her story, and jotted down the day's events in her personal journal. She logged the generosity and kindness of this family of strangers she'd visited unexpectedly. She told herself the tale of her struggles with expectations and ambitions. She yearned to be her own person, but she also yearned to honor the people who made her the person she was. She poured her heart out into her diary with a fervor that she could not find within the end of her Federalist story.

 

She looked at the bedroom door, and saw the flicker of an open flame glowing across the bottom of the portal. She grabbed the ending of her story... and stormed out of the room to find Benny sitting by firelight, writing down a few new ideas on a clipboard.

 

Benny looked up, "It's the first time I've thought about writing in some time, Anne." he admitted, "I want to thank you for stoking the flame inside me."

 

Anne was visibly frustrated over something. "I really am glad I was able to do that. Because I can't seem to do the same for myself." She tossed the ending of her story into the fireplace. "At least I can stoke this flame."

 

"Anne, no!" Benny pleaded, a moment too late. "We could've gone over that. There was no need to destroy it." he preached mournfully.

 

Anne stared into the fire as her apocalypse dissolved in the flames. "My heart... wasn't in it. I need Aznia to live on. I need hope for the future. Right now, I find more passion in writing about the present!" Inspiration suddenly struck Anne. "The present..." she gazed back toward the writing room.

 

"What's your idea, Anne?" Benny's intrigue was peaked.

 

"This." she retrieved her diary, "You, Cassie, your home, your kindness, this crazy adventure I've taken to get your blessing and ask your advice. The search for passion to write. The love of my stories. Inspiration! This is all inspiration. This is what I need." Anne transcribed the last day's worth of stories from her diary onto the Federalist manuscript.

 

Benny was fascinated, "So you're making yourself- the writer- a part of the story!? I like it! You could tie that as an Orb experience, like the one's Ben Sisko had!"

 

Aznia wrote as much down as quickly as she could, loving the inspiration.

 

Benny spoke again, his tone soured slightly, "...you know, if you write this part as yourself, you'll be exposed as Anne and not just A.C." he was sad to reiterate the implications of that.

 

"Be damned the consequences." Anne put her foot down. "I'm going to write my own story whether it gets published or not. I'm going to be my own person whether I'm accepted or not!"

 

Benny and Anne smoothed out the story through the night. By morning, they were ready to send it off to the editor and publisher.

 

"I'm proud of you, Anne." the older man smiled widely, "You've reminded me of the spirit I've been stripped of for so long. You've got a tough road ahead of you. Just never give up. If you affect just one mind, the future can still live on."

 

They mailed the story off, and Benny escorted Anne to the bus stop. The number 29 pulled back up to the curb. "This is my ride, Benny. Thank you for everything."

 

The two friends hugged. "Keep in touch! Keep writing! I'll do the same." Benny smiled as proudly as he could.

 

Anne stepped on the bus, as the bus doors slid shut Anne's story ended where it began. The West 139th street scenery outside suddenly transformed into an alien cave. Aznia found herself kneeling before an orb, so she pulled the doors on its box shut. She took a moment to gain her bearings. Looking up at Atom and En'thaas, their concerned faces seemed out of place. She knew the gravity of the situation, but she also knew that everything was different now- she knew the ending she'd written. "Deet to Federalist-" she tapped her badge.

 

Atom interrupted, "We lost contact with the..."

 

"Walesa here, Captain." the responding signal cut off the Android.

 

Atom and En'thaas looked at each other stunned. They presumed the Federalist had been destroyed when contact cut off abruptly.

 

"Status report?" the Captain responded to her first officer.

 

"I'm not sure how to explain this. We've ejected escape pods, but I see no evidence that we were ever in a battle. The Undine apparently never attacked us." Walesa was baffled. "I also think... I was visited by the prophets."

 

"I know." Aznia responded. "I can explain everything once I'm back aboard. Everything will be fine now. Prepare to come pick us up as soon as you've reintegrated the escape pods."

 

---

 

Beaming back aboard the Federalist, Aznia carried the box that contained the Orb of Inspiration. Walesa met her in the transporter room.

 

"I'm very confused. I was about to destroy the Federalist to close the wormhole, but I had a vision of a Starfleet Captain in a 2370s uniform. He told me that it wasn't time for the end. When I awoke, there was no sign of Species 8472, and no sign of battle damage. The debris of the Federation and Dominion ships was gone too."

 

"That battle never happened, Commander. The Undine never invaded. The omega particles never decimated our quadrant. That vision was dissolved away in the flames stoked by the dreamer."

 

Walesa looked at Deet like she was speaking another language. "Why do we remember it then?"

 

"Don't worry. Nobody else does." Deet smiled coyly, "It's just not time for the end."

Edited by KenJennings
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This story has been in my mind for a long time, and I've tried to write it a couple different ways, and I could never quite tell it right. I still feel like I missed a lot of things that I wanted to do with it, but I'm fairly satisfied with the end result.

 

Fait Accompli

 

"Captain, I'm picking up a Federation distress signal." The Ferengi officer reporter from the tactical console.

 

"This far out?" Deet was surprised. "Any message? Can you identify the ship?"

 

"No, Captain. It's a general distress call, definitely on a Federation carrier wave. It seems to be heavily distorted... coming from an uncharted star system on a course of 529 mark 3."

 

"Lay in a course, Mr. En'thaas."

 

The Aenar helmsman tapped the raised braille buttons on his tactile helm interface. The Federalist changed course before jumping to warp.

 

"Estimated time to arrival?" The Captain asked her helmsman.

 

"One hour, 22 minutes." he responded.

 

"Mr. Atom, what is the closest Federation ship to our position?"

 

The Android accessed his positronic database "The U.S.S. Revere is currently assigned to survey systems in the Eridan Belt."

 

"Could this be a signal from them?" The Captain inquired.

 

"Highly unlikely, Captain. We passed near the Revere last week. If their course had brought them here, that course would have been roughly parallel to our own. They would have shown on our sensors all along."

 

"It seems that we have a mystery." Deet's curiosity was piqued, "But whoever they are, they apparently need our help."

 

---

 

The Federalist arrived in the unexplored system. The signal led them to the orbit of the fourth planet in the system.

 

"It is a class M planet, readings from the surface are... sporadic." Atom reported unsurely.

 

Aznia walked over to the science console to look over his shoulder. "What is causing all of this interference?" she pointed to a garbled display.

 

"I am trying to get a scanner lock on the source of the distress beacon... the atmosphere seems to have a strange chronometric flux that is distorting the image." The Android did all he could to enhance the image. "It appears to be debris consistent with a small craft... I am also detecting what appear to be three distinct humanoid lifesigns."

 

"Can you beam them out?" Aznia's tone turned urgently toward the wellbeing of the survivors.

 

"Not at this time. The interference would distort the transporter signal." Lt. Atom responded, "...but I do not believe this interference would pose a significant threat to a shuttle?"

 

"I'd hate for one of our shuttles to fall prey to the same conditions that took down this ship." Captain Deet raised a valid point.

 

Commander Walesa stood up, "Captain, we don't know what took that ship down... I specialized in atmospheric flight training at the academy. I'd like to volunteer for this mission."

 

Aznia looked away for a moment, pondering the situation. She exhaled quickly through her nose before accepting the advice of her staff, "We certainly can't leave them down there. Take Doctor Span and a medical team along to treat the injured."

 

Walesa walked toward the turbolift, she gestured toward a red shirted security officer, "Mr. Wrinn, I'd like a you with me on this one." The Xindi-primate Ensign followed the first officer. Walesa tapped her combadge, "Mr. Span, meet me with a medical team in shuttlebay one." The turbolift doors slid shut behind her.

 

---

 

Shuttlecraft Shepard departed the Federalist. Walesa sat at the helm with Span sitting at the adjacent console. Wrinn sat on the port side bunk seat meticulously adjusting tuning his phaser to the appropriate frequency. The medical team consisting of Lieutenant Kelis and Ensign Lanning checked over supplies in the medkits from the starboard side bunk seat.

 

"Hold on folks, we're entering the ionosphere." Walesa alerted the group.

 

The shuttle rocked slightly, everything seemed well for the first few moments.

 

"Commander," Span broke the silence, "I'm detecting a strange buildup of..."

 

The shuttle suddenly lost all power, dropping into a uncontrolled free fall. Span swiveled his seat to face the power transfer console.

 

"We've lost engine power, can you get me anything from auxiliary?!" Walesa ordered.

 

Span tapped hopelessly at the console, "Nothing is responding!" he raised his voice dispassionately, "All ships power is simply gone."

 

Walesa quickly opened an access panel beside her console, "There's nothing going through these ODN lines! We need to find a power source quickly!!"

 

Span quickly climbed back to the ships reactor control access, he opened it and found all circuits dead there as well. The reactor was completely offline. Span took a moment to look up at the view screen, seeing the ground approach quickly. He reached over and grabbed the phaser from Wrinn's terrified, clenched hand.

 

"What are you doing!?" Wrinn asked in confused shock.

 

Span ignored the Ensign, "Commander, prepare to level our descent!"

 

He detatched an ODN relay jamming the hand phaser into it's connection coupling, he increased the power output to the weapon's maximum.

 

"NOW!" he shouted, firing the weapon.

 

Walesa mustered a small, but meaningful, adjustment to the shuttle's course. They went from complete free fall to a managed crash course as the phaser's power blew out every relay on the ship, before venting from the maneuvering thrusters, and nudging the ship into the pilot's control.

 

"Brace for impact!!" Walesa yelled loudly as the ship soared into a forest. The shuttle sheared through several trees, and glanced off of a small rock precipice, which tore the starboard side of the ship open like a tin can. Kelis and Lanning were thrown from the ship as the bulkhead gave way. Wrinn and Span clinged onto the port bunk as Walesa remained dedicated to her console, still futilely trying to control the craft.

 

The ship finally tumbled to a rest at the base of several large trees. The three remaining crew members struggled to their feet. Span was the first one up, the Vulcan officer's body proved more structurally durable to the jarring crash. He lifted Wrinn onto the bunk, helping to stabilize what he diagnosed as a broken arm. When he realized the injuries were not fatal, he turned to Walesa.

 

"Commander!" he grabbed her by her shoulder as she sit slumped over he control panel.

 

Walesa struggled to consciousness, wincing in pain at the light flooding back into her dilated eyes. She simply groaned to acknowledge Span's concern.

 

"You appear to be concussed commander." He examined her pupils carefully before checking over the rest of her, "We should get out of the shuttle." smoke was venting into the cockpit from smoldering parts scattered all around.

 

Span escorted the other two survivors out of the craft. The forest outside was accommodating, a comfortable temperature, plenty of sunlight shining down through the trees. In different circumstances, it would almost be a serene place. He found a spot for Walesa to sit and rest, while he tended to Wrinn's arm.

 

"I need to set the bone. You will experience significant pain, Ensign." Span informed the patient dispassionately.

 

Wrinn sighed, hanging his head. "OK." he murmured through clenched his teeth.

 

Span acted immediately, he didn't give Wrinn time to brace, as to minimize muscle resistance.

 

Wrinn screamed at the top of his lungs, he cry echoing through the vast forest. He whimpered as he cradled the wounded limb.

 

Span turned back to the shuttle. He began to dig through the crashed craft for any usable supplies. The port side lockers were in tact. In them, he found one medkit, a hand phaser, a tricorder, three boxes of federation emergency rations, and four folded blankets. The starboard side locker was gone along with the upper folding bunk. The lower bunk was broken away from the wall, lying on the floor. Span retrieved a small fire extinguisher from center console between the pilot's seats, he conservatively discharged it just enough to stop any components within the fuselage from smoldering further. Span looked around the craft one last time before tearing a loose piece of hard resin conduit from the ship's exposed environmental system. He returned to his patients, Walesa was already up and trying to find a branch to help splint Wrinn's arm.

 

"Commander, sit down. I am authorized to make that an order." He reminded her sternly of his medical authority. "I believe this piece of conduit will serve as a fine splint." He held the hard piece against the wounded arm as Wrinn grit his teeth, he wrapped one of the survival blankets as a sling around the arm and behind his neck to immobilize the wound.

 

"You found a medkit?" Wrinn inquired.

 

"That is correct." Span acknowledged.

 

"There should be some kind of analgesic or sedative in there. Please, I'm in a lot of pain here."

 

Span scanned Wrinn with the tricorder. "I'm sorry Ensign, I do not doubt that you are in a great deal of discomfort, but you are in no immediate risk of shock or further complication. We need to ration our supplies." The Vulcan tried to temper his dispassionate tone as much as possible within the bounds of logic.

 

"Come on, Commander. I'm sure we'll be rescued soon!" Wrinn pleaded.

 

"Wrinn!" Walesa shot a disapproving tone in his direction. "Rest. Do the best you can."

 

Span returned his attention to Walesa, "Please, Commander. Do not exert yourself." He removed a hypospray from his kit trying to remain discreet. "This is a serious concussion. We need to reduce the swelling." He pressed the anti-inflammatory hypospray against her carotid artery.

 

Wrinn looked over seeing the administration of the drug. He scowled, believing that his superiors were conspiring against him to hoard the supplies for themselves. His gaze remained fixed on Commander Span, who callously ignored the clear disapproval.

 

Span looked over the tricorder a little bit more. He stood between the two injured officers. "You are both under orders to rest, keep your emotions under control, I know that we will survive this."

 

"How could you know that?" Wrinn shot back pessimistically.

 

"The initial shuttle crash that we detected had three survivors. We detected that reading right here, at this exact location on the planet's surface." Span informed his colleagues. "When we entered the planet's ionosphere, I briefly detected a buildup of chronitons that discharged our ship's power core. The subsequent reaction sent us backward in time. We are the survivors we came to rescue."

 

---

 

"Where did they go?!" Aznia demanded an answer.

 

Lt. Atom quickly tapped at his console, accessing as much sensor data as possible. "We detected a buildup of chroniton particles at the shuttle's last known location, then a massive plasma discharge, and the shuttle simply disappeared."

 

Aznia's concern grew, "Was the shuttle destroyed?"

 

"I do not believe so, Captain." Atom added, "I am not detecting any debris, no dust. The size of the discharge was not significant enough to account for the shuttle's destruction."

 

"Captain," En'thaas chimed in, "I'd like to point out that the shuttle was on a trajectory that would've taken them down in close proximity to the rescue site. The wreckage below is consistent with the size of our shuttle, and we did detect chroniton particles. A temporal anomaly may be at work here."

 

"So we sent them to rescue..." Aznia began to say.

 

"...themselves." Atom finished the sentence before turning back to his console to scan the anomaly further.

 

"How long have they been down there?" Aznia asked.

 

The Android didn't know, "Until we better understand the phenomenon at work, we can not tell."

 

"We need to get them out of there. I want options!"

 

---

 

In the week that had passed since the crash, Span and Walesa developed a routine around their base camp. They'd recovered the bodies of Kelis and Lanning, burying them nearby. They were using the shuttle as a makeshift shelter, the weather was stable and warm, they'd found sources of food in many of the indigenous plants, and a stream nearby provided an endless flow of clean water. Survival was difficult, but things could've been much worse given the situation.

 

"This is becoming intolerable," Wrinn lamented, "How long until they come?!"

 

"One day less than when you asked yesterday." Span retorted. "We simply can not know. It may be a matter of a hours, it may be a matter of years."

 

"Years?" Wrinn panicked.

 

"I suggest you focus on the fact that we will ultimately be discovered. Before we crashed, we detected three life signs, which means that we will survive." Span offered encouragement. "I have no doubt that Captain Deet will find a way to bring us home."

 

"What if..." Wrinn began to think "What if we did something to change our future?"

 

"That is not possible." Span shot the idea down, "Whatever actions we take, the result will be us, here, when the Federalist discovers us. If it wasn't the case, we would have seen a different result."

 

"Hear me out," Wrinn added, "I've been looking over the shuttle, if we can rebuild the reactor, I think we can get to orbit."

 

"Are you crazy, Wrinn? Half of the hull is gone!" Walesa shot down the idea.

 

"I've been thinking about that," Wrinn explained, "I remember hearing about hand phasers being modified to project a containment field around hull breaches."

 

"I doubt the disbursement field could be set wide enough to contain this hull damage." Span answered. "Even if we were able to seal the breach, such a method would work as nothing more than a stop-gap measure."

 

"We have to try something!" Wrinn exclaimed.

 

"Wrinn imagine that, against all odds, we get the shuttle's power systems back online. And imagine, also against all odds, we get the shuttle off the ground. Now imagine, again- against all odds, that we're able to seal the hull with the hand phaser. Once we get in orbit, then what? We've traveled back in time. Who will be up there?" Walesa explained the ridiculousness of his plan.

 

"We'll have to set a course for DS3." Wrinn stated without considering the facts.

 

"DS3 is 25 light years away. Even if you get the shuttle flying at warp 8 again, which isn't going to happen with only one functional nacelle, it would take 12 days to arrive at DS3." Walesa was tiring of the conversation, "The firing mechanism on this phaser couldn't project a containment field for 12 hours of continuous use, let alone 12 days!"

 

Wrinn stomped away frustrated. Walesa and Span looked at each other nervously.

 

"He's got a point, you know." Walesa suggested.

 

Span raised an eyebrow, "I fail to see how."

 

"How long do we wait before we try to change the course of our survival?"

 

"I don't believe we can, our fate is sealed. I suggest we concentrate our efforts on affecting a more comfortable survival. Our stay on this planet may be long."

 

---

 

Lt. Atom and Chief Volor called the Captain to the Transporter Room, she arrived to find them preparing a test object for transport.

 

"Captain, we've discovered something interesting." Volor announced. "We've completed some modifications to the transporter, and we were ready to beam this test object down to the surface, it is a standard ten kilogram test cylinder comprised of 80% Duranium and 20% Nillimite."

 

"I'm familiar with these, crewman." The Captain cut to the chase.

 

Volor continued, "Well, I randomly selected a set of beam down coordinates on the planet's surface; and I found something interesting."

 

Deet looked at the readout, the computer detected a ten kilogram Duranium-Nillimite alloy cylinder at the exact coordinates Volor had randomly selected.

 

"You already beamed one down?" she asked.

 

"No we have not." Atom responded, drawing the Captain's curiosity. "The odds of such a similar object already being at these coordinates are roughly one in..."

 

"Clearly not a chance encounter." The Captain cut in. She wanted to know more, "Lock onto it, beam it up."

 

A second test cylinder materialized alongside the one that was already present. It appeared to have weathered and tarnished slightly, but was clearly the same object.

 

Aznia leaned in to inspect it more closely, "These have a unique code, don't they?"

 

"Should be right on the corner by that top seam, Captain." Volor answered.

 

She read from the weathered test cylinder "91791-47B." She checked the clean cylinder "91791-47B. It's the same object."

 

"How can the same object occupy two slots on our transporter pad?" Volor asked.

 

"Well," Aznia pointed at clean test cylinder. "beam this one down. Same coordinates."

 

The cylinder vanished from the transporter pad. "The transport cycle reads complete, but I've lost contact with the object."

 

"It's right there, Chief." Aznia pointed at the weathered cylinder they'd beamed up moments before. "You've beamed the clean cylinder into the past. We've already retrieved it."

 

Atom conducted a close scan on the weathered cylinder, "Captain, this cylinder has been on the planet's surface for... over four years."

 

---

 

Fifteen months had passed. Base camp had become a fairly comfortable place. The three survivors had constructed some basic amenities to raise the quality of life around camp significantly. Still, they were tired, dirty, and growing weary of their isolation.

 

Wrinn peeled back the husk of a native fruit, "If I never see another one of these pine-flavored bananas, I'll die a happy man."

 

"Unfortunately, Ensign, they are our best source of carbohydrates, fiber, and vitamins." Span stated matter of factly.

 

Walesa interjected, "I'm not fond of them either, but they're all we have."

 

"I'm going off to gather more of them, I suppose." Wrinn wandered away from camp.

 

"I don't know how much longer he's going to make it here," Walesa waned Span, "He's growing more and more irritable and lately he's been isolating himself from us as much as he can.

 

Span sighed, and lowered his head showing an uncharacteristic moment of vulnerability, "Commander, it is not Ensign Wrinn who I am worried about."

 

Walesa raised her head in surprise. "Do you think I..."

 

Span cut her off, "No. Commander. You've been... very strong in the face of this crisis." he was audibly shaken, some level of emotional compromise setting in. "I am speaking of myself."

 

"Span, what's wrong?"

 

"I am suffering the initial stages of a Vulcan neurological imbalance. If we were aboard the Federalist, I would be taking a leave of absence to seek treatment on Vulcan right now. It is a potentially fatal condition..."

 

Walesa was concerned. She couldn't help but think about how she'd grown very close to Span over the past few months, "How can I help?" She grabbed his hand. "We can't get you through this."

 

Span looked up at Walesa, sensing a level of connection he'd failed to consider so far. "If I were on Vulcan, this would be the time in my life when I would take a mate." he reticently confessed. "I can set out into the wilderness on my own, and through deep meditation and concentration, I might be able to endure the symptoms."

 

"Span, maybe it doesn't need to be that way. You're not the only lonely person here." She grabbed his arm, looking up to see that the coast was clear, "Wrinn usually leaves for a few hours at a time... Let me help you."

 

---

 

Another week had passed, and the symptoms of Span's Pon Farr had mostly subsided. The relationship between Span and Walesa had visibly warmed, much to the chagrin of Ensign Wrinn. The sun was rising on another day, and Walesa was the first to wake. She rustled around outside, waking Span and ensign Wrinn.

 

Span exited the shuttle. "Elsie, are you alright?"

 

"I'm fine, she emerged from the bushes, I just had to use the... bush." she chuckled nervously.

 

Span nodded, "You almost never wake this early." hw moved toward their fire ring, and began to build up the day's fire to boil some water. Wrinn remained in the shuttlecraft, stirring up some noise.

 

"What is he doing in there?" Span inquired.

 

Walesa answered, "Anything to keep busy. Let's leave him be a while."

 

Span looked back at the shuttle making sure Wrinn was out of earshot, "About last week, I want to thank you again, Elsie. I don't know how you feel about our future, but I have grown fond of your presence." he looked as bashful as a Vulcan could.

 

Walesa smiled, "Span, about that, I need to tell you..."

 

A shower of sparks shot out of the shuttlecraft, interrupting her mid sentence. Span and Walesa stood up in surprise, they did not know the shuttle's power systems were even online. They ran to the shuttle, opening the hatch.

 

"Wrinn, what are you doing in here." Span sternly demanded an answer.

 

Wrinn was curled up in the corner, shielding his head from the blast that had occurred. He did not move. Span approached him, grabbing him by the shoulder. Wrinn stood up suddenly, drawing his phaser. Wrinn stood behind span, holding the phaser in front of Span, pointing upward against his neck.

 

"You two aren't going to keep me here anymore..." Wrinn was losing it. "I'm getting off this rock one way or another. As you can see, I've got the power systems flowing again."

 

"Wrinn, you've got systems overloading, you've got a breached hull, you've got no chance of getting this ship out of here!" Walesa reminded the deranged Ensign.

 

"At least then our fate isn't sealed! If I die in this shuttle, then the wreckage won't be here, there won't be three survivors!""

 

"Put the phaser down, Wrinn." Walesa pleaded. "We can work this out!"

 

"No we can't. I've been watching you two subvert my efforts for too long. You've been in charge of this debacle from square one, and we've got nowhere. I'm done with you. In fact, I might just kill Commander Span right now... Just so we both know that there will not be three survivors."

 

Walesa considered the paradox he was raising, three unidentified lifesigns, one very likely to die in the next few moments. She considered how she'd just awoke to a sense of nausea, a sense of morning sickness that drove her from her sleep earlier than usual; suddenly she knew what it all meant. One of these men was going to die. Instinctively, she kicked as hard as she could at Wrinn's phaser, dislodging it from his hand. Wrinn pushed Span into her and reached for the navigation panel, Walesa grabbed him by his shoulders to prevent him from launching the shuttle. She punched him as hard as she could to immobilize him and end the fight, but he fought back and threw a wide fist at Walesa. She ducked the punch as Span stepped in. Span, still feeling some lingering neurochemical imbalance from his Pon Farr, slipped into a moment of rage. He wound up and punched Wrinn directly in the face as hard as he could. A loud crack accompanied the blow as Wrinn slumped directly down in his footprints.

 

Both officers stood stunned for a moment by what had occurred. Span regained his composure and dispassionately knelt down beside Wrinn's body. "He is dead."

 

Walesa sighed, resting her face in her hands. "Span, you did what you had to do."

 

"Commander, I am guilty of murder." Span stood professionally, as composed as possible in his dirty uniform and shaggy beard, "If we are rescued, I should face court martial, and I will plead guilty to my crime."

 

"Span, no... Do you want your child to grow up with their father in a detention cell?" Walesa broke the news bluntly.

 

"Child?" He was visibly taken aback, "The third survivor..."

 

Walesa smiled, she walked over to Span's side and grabbed him by the arm. She guided his hand to her belly. "The third survivor."

 

Span and Walesa gave Wrinn a proper burial beside Kelis and Lanning. They stood before their miniature graveyard in silence for a moment.

 

"I can not justify my actions, Elsie." Span said mournfully.

 

"He didn't give you any choice, Span. He was a threat to both of us... to all three of us... you knew that. The fact that you felt a moment of rage does not diminish the logic of your decision." Walesa condoned Span's action, "I'm still your superior officer. I'm ordering you to accept that."

 

Span looked up, sadness still in his eyes. "I'm not sure I can follow that order."

 

---

 

Aznia stood in the Federalist's transporter room with Atom and Volor. "Four years??" She was stunned. "Does that mean that our away team has been..."

 

"...yes, Captain." Atom informed her, "They have been down there for about four years."

 

"Is there any way to reverse this... to beam them out at an earlier date??" Aznia pleaded.

 

"I do not believe so. The time has already passed for them, to use a human aphorism, their future is written... in stone." Atom dispassionately used the expression, "Fortunately, I believe our the transporter enhancements will work, so we can beam them up on your order."

 

"Four years stranded down there... while we've been here only a matter of moments... It's unimaginable. What will this be like for them??" Aznia closed her eyes for just a moment, shaking her head in resignation, "Mr. Volor, Energize."

 

Three patterns materialized on the transporter pad, two adults and one small child- barely able to stand on his own. Span and Walesa stared in shock at their Captain, Walesa began to weep tears of joy, Span stood back and immediately looked down at his frightened son, he reached out his hand to the small half-Vulcan boy, "We are home now. You have nothing to be afraid of. Things will be better now." The boy relaxed as he held his father's hand tightly.

 

"Welcome home," Captain Deet was shocked by the sight of the young boy, she knelt before him, engaging him eye-to-eye, "I'm Captain Deet, what is your name?"

 

"Calvin." The boy said timidly, overwhelmed by the foreign experience of leaving the only home he ever knew.

 

"Congratulations, Elsie, Span." Deet softly smiled and nodded at each of them, "I'm so glad to have you back."

 

"After so long, it almost slipped my mind that anyone was coming for us." Walesa fought back tears.

 

"I have to ask, what happened to Kelis, Lanning and Wrinn?" The Captain returned to sad business.

 

"Kelis and Lanning were killed as the ship crashed," Span began to report.

 

Walesa cut in "...and Wrinn never recovered from the crash." the statement was half-truth enough for her.

 

Span looked down at the boy holding his hand, he was ready to be more forthcoming about the incident, but realized that the half-truth served a greater good than the full truth. Span simply nodded to acknowledge the comment.

 

The Captain was satisfied. "Let's get you three to sick bay."

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Dead Captains Don't See

 

"How long until the Romulan ships are within weapons range, Mr. Chellaud?" Commander Aznia Toma ordered the report from Tactical.

 

The Pakled tactical officer reported back, "Two Minutes."

 

"Toma to Rahall," Aznia tapped her badge, "How quickly can you install a cloaking device?"

 

Chief Engineer Rahall's voice rang back across the communicator, "Three... maybe four minutes."

 

"You have two, prepare to beam to the freighter!" Aznia ordered. She tapped her badge again, "Transporter room, beam Rahall and one of our auxiliary cloaking modules directly to the freighter immediately."

 

"Aye sir, energizing." a crewman's voice answered.

 

"Mr. En'thaas, set a course for the Romulan ships. Let's intercept them and buy as much time as possible."

 

The Aenar helmsman maneuvered the ship toward the ominous warbirds. "Captain, they're locking on us."

 

"Evasive maneuvers." She turned toward Tactical "Mr. Chellaud target the smaller support vessels with a phaser cannon spread, let's see if we can pull them off course." Aznia ordered.

 

"Support vessels are pursuing, the lead warbird is breaking toward the freighter, 30 seconds to range."

 

The Federalist shook violently, sparks flew across the bridge.

 

"Shields are at 30%." The Tactical officer reported.

 

Aznia turned to Science Officer Haln, "I want you to dump all power except shields and structural integrity into the deflector dish. Let's see if we can generate a gravity well to hold that warbird back."

 

The Saurian Science Officer engaged the deflector as the energy transfer blew out several relays, but the particle stream generated a field that slowed the Warbird's progress.

 

"Get whatever power is remaining back to weapons!" Aznia ordered as the strained ship tried to juggle it's various tasks. "Fire at will on the Warbird!"

 

The phasers inflicted significant damage on the Romulan lead ship, but the support vessels swarming them were decimating their defenses.

 

"Shields offline!" The Pakled Tactical officer shouted. "Hull integrity down to 29%!"

 

"Keep firing until the freighter cloaks! Once they're clear, give me warp power!"

 

The bridge overloaded with energy feedbacks, "We won't have warp power!" En'thaas reported, "We're losing core contain-"

 

A shower of sparks cut off the officer's report, as the holodeck program ended. The crewmen found themselves within the empty holomatrix on level 1 in the Starfleet Command building.

 

En'thaas stepped toward Aznia, setting a hand on her shoulder, "Good attempt." he consoled her.

 

The holodeck doors opened, two Starfleet officers walked in, "Interesting method." a grey haired Admiral announced. He looked around the holodeck, "Thank you for participating, you're all dismissed." The crew shuffled out of the room, except Aznia.

 

"I thought I could give the freighter time to make repairs by cloaking them." Aznia explained her actions, "I was only fighting for time... I'd hoped we could hold out long enough to secure them, then jump to warp ourselves."

 

"You don't often get the time you expect," the Admiral explained, "but your approach was commendable."

 

"Is there any chance I could see how the rest of that simulation turned out?" Aznia inquired, "The Kobayashi Maru may still have escaped."

 

"No you can't see. You died. Dead Captains don't see." Admiral Deet taunted the failure. "You must accept the consequences of your losses. Not knowing what happened to that freighter is a very small consequence, compared to losing those 400 men and women aboard your ship."

 

Commander Toma shook her head in frustration.

 

"You did fine, Commander." Deet reassured her. He looked over to the other officer in the room, "Have you met Commander Daniels? He's in charge of the simulations department here at Starfleet Academy."

 

Daniels extended his hand to Commander Toma, "Nice to meet you." he smiled politely.

 

Aznia smiled and greeted Daniels similarly.

 

Daniels looked in the Admiral's direction, "To be honest, I think Commander Toma's attempt was one of the best I've seen in my time here. I'd hate to think my program is getting soft." He smiled coyly toward Aznia, "Admiral, if you don't mind, I have some questions about the simulation from the user's perspective. Would you mind if I spoke to Aznia in my office?"

 

"Of course." He nodded to Daniels before addressing Aznia, "Commander, report to my office tomorrow at 1400 hours, we'll go over your results and I'll let you know your next assignment." Admiral Edinger Deet smiled at his subordinates as he turned to leave, nodding as if to say 'good day'.

 

Toma and Daniels stood at attention as the Admiral vacated the area. Once he was clear, they began to speak casually. "You've served with the Admiral, right?" Daniels asked the straightforward question.

 

"I was his Chief of Security aboard the L'Étoile du Nord for three years," she answered "I consider him a mentor... and a friend."

 

"I suppose that's good to hear," Daniels smiled, "With his promotion, I'll be working under him here at Starfleet Command. I'm interested in knowing what I'm in for." Daniels led Aznia out of the holodeck, walking a short distance down the corridor to Daniels' office.

 

The office was small; it was on the interior side of the corridor, so there were no windows. PADDs were stacked on every surface, listing reports and assignment rosters for ships all across the quadrant. Aznia smiled at the messy workspace, "It looks like you keep yourself busy!"

 

"Oh, I'm sorry about the mess." Daniels looked around.

 

Aznia smiled back, "No... don't be! I feel like I'm at home."

 

The door slid shut behind Daniels, "Commander, I'd like to speak to you about something classified. This can't go beyond these walls, not even to the Admiral."

 

Aznia was too curious to turn away, "Um... Go ahead." she nervously permitted him to continue.

 

"Computer, lock office doors." Daniels walked behind his desk, unlocking a cabinet with a retinal scan. "Have you ever heard of Section 31, Commander?"

 

"Of course I have." Aznia's attitude changed to disgust, "If Section 31 still exists, and if you're working with them, we can end this meeting now."

 

"No, Commander. I do not work for Section 31. In fact, Section 31 hasn't existed in over 180 years." He sat down, setting an unusual piece of technology from his cabinet on the desk, "And that's the problem we face." he tapped buttons on the device which illuminated the room with a stream of complex holographic data and imagery.

 

Aznia was stunned by the imagery for a moment, she forced her composure past the sight to discuss the so-reviled topic at hand, "Section 31 was a criminal organization that corrupted the best facets of Starfleet!" She leaned in, "How many people died because of their actions?"

 

"You're right. Section 31 was brought to light when their efforts to instigate a war with the Klingons backfired. Their unfrozen, genetically engineered, super soldier wreaked havoc on Earth, Starfleet Command, and the Enterprise. The incident led the people of earth to route out their operatives and to remain vigilant in stopping any rouge intelligence operations like them." Daniels leaned in closely to match Aznia eye-to-eye, lowering the tone of his voice, "None of it should've happened."

 

"Then we agree." Aznia eased back, "Section 31 should've never existed in the first place."

 

Daniels grinned, "Well... we don't agree. Section 31 should exist. They should still exist." he struggled to make his point, "Don't get me wrong, the Section 31 that you know should've never existed. They should've never been pushed to such aggressive lengths. They should've never overplayed their hand like they did."

 

Aznia was confused by the nebulous debate, she cut straight to the chase. "So, why are we discussing this."

 

Daniels stood up, and began to interact with his holography. "This is a timeline. It shows time as it should have played out."

 

"'Should have played out'?" Aznia quoted back in a dismissive tone. "Are you saying that the timeline has been altered?"

 

"Right." Daniels expanded a section of the timeline, "Right here. The destruction of the U.S.S. Kelvin" information about the event expanded onto the holographic globe surrounding them.

 

"I've read about this." Aznia stood up and walked in closer, "That was the same ship that destroyed Vulcan. That was when it arrived."

 

"So you're aware that the timeline has been altered." Daniels argued his point.

 

Aznia contemplated the statement, "Who's to say that this isn't the 'correct' timeline? Nobody is qualified to rewrite 200 years of history!"

 

Daniels chuckled, "It's quite a responsibility, but it's an important job to do."

 

Aznia gazed back at him sharply, again cutting directly to the point, "Who are you, Daniels?"

 

Daniels sighed, "I am a temporal agent from the 29th century, I've been trapped here for the past 22 years, monitoring intelligence reports, forging credentials, evaluating officers, making calculations, and waiting for the right time to act."

 

"What are you waiting for?"

 

"Like you said," Daniels answered, "A chance to rewrite history. And I need the help of a good officer."

 

"I can't be a part of this!" Aznia scoffed, "I won't take lives into my hands like that."

 

Daniels turned back to his timeline, bringing up the profile of a Vulcan officer, "This is Doctor Span, one of your best friends and most trusted confidants."

 

"I've never seen that man." Aznia shot back.

 

Daniels brought up a picture of Span with his wife and son, "Because Vulcan was destroyed, he was never born. Neither was his son." he pulled up another profile, "His wife, Elsie Walesa. She should be your first officer; someone with an illustrious and meaningful Starfleet career... instead, she's running a courier service in Idaho."

 

"I don't know these people at all." Aznia shook off the information.

 

Daniels moved the timeline again, "And then there's our war with the Dominion/Romulan alliance. That isn't going very well, is it?"

 

"I'm still confident that we can persevere." she hoped aloud.

 

Daniels shook his head, "This war should be over. It should've been over almost 50 years ago when we liberated Cardassia."

 

"Liberated? We left Cardassia leveled, their population almost extinct, hardly a military victory." Aznia lamented.

 

"Just another entire race of people that we can save." Daniels shot back. "If Section 31 would've been involved in the Dominion war, their actions would've led to a cease fire at Cardassia. They would've coerced the Romulan Senate into maintaining the Treaty of Algeron."

 

Aznia covered her mouth with her hand, exhaling softly.

 

Before she could answer, "How about the fate of the entire Federation?"

 

Aznia set up sternly, "What happens to the Federation?"

 

"I can't be sure. I don't know this future any more than you do. But what I do know is that my attempts to contact my century's Temporal Investigations department have gone unanswered, as if they're not there at all." Daniels explained, in the future that I know, the Federation barely survives a number of threats. But they do survive. Even if they win this Dominion War, it will leave a weakened, pitiful Federation that is completely unprepared for the Undine, the Fen'Domar, the Iconians, or the Sphere Builders."

 

"Who?" Aznia was giving Daniels her full attention.

 

"Just know this." he tapped his finger against the desk, "With this past, we have no future."

 

Aznia was sold. "What do we need to do?"

 

"Just be prepared for further instructions. Make sure you're on time to meet with the Admiral tomorrow. And remember, this information doesn't leave this room." Daniels switched off his device, the cluttered office reappeared around them. He manually opened the door by pressing a control pad on the wall. "Commander Toma, I appreciate your feedback on the Kobayashi Maru simulation." he gestured for her to leave the office, "Feel free to contact me if you have any other feedback!"

 

Aznia left the office questioning her whole world, not knowing where to turn.

 

---

 

A short stroll from the transporter hub in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, Aznia found herself outside of a building marked 'Lakul Courier'. She walked in the front door, greeting the clerk, "Hello. I was wondering if I could speak to Elsie Walesa."

 

"Let me see if she's available." The clerk walked away.

 

Aznia took a moment to look around the room, noting a series of pencil sketches. Some appeared to be family portraits, but several were different starships, a Tuffli freighter, a Whorfin class transport, and even a striking sketch of the Excelsior class Enterprise-B.

 

The clerk returned, "She has a full schedule today, is there something I can help you with?"

 

Aznia insisted, "Please. It's a matter of personal importance. I have some brief questions for her."

 

The clerk sighed and disappeared around the corner again. A moment later he returned with Walesa in tow.

 

Walesa entered with an annoyed tone "Is there something I can..." something about Aznia struck her as familiar, stopping her in mid-sentence, "Deet? Your name is Deet." she said.

 

Aznia was surprised, "No, but I do know someone by that name..."

 

Walesa led Aznia to her office. It was a tidy and well organized place, with more pencil sketches adorning the wall. In the corner was a lighted drawing table.

 

"Are these pencil drawings your own?" Aznia asked.

 

Walesa smiled, "Yes, it's a hobby of mine. I've always got visions running through my mind, and I feel a need to put them to paper. In fact, I have one I want to show you."

 

Walesa reached into a large desk drawer, removing a portfolio. Several additional drawings were inside.

 

"When I drew this picture, the name Deet came to mind." Walesa showed Aznia a picture that bore a striking resemblance to herself. "I must know you from somewhere."

 

"Fascinating," Aznia admitted, "Do you have others?" She wondered how she would end up joining with the Deet symbiont.

 

Walesa showed Aznia a number of drawings, some of Span, some of Federation starships, some of a half-Vulcan child. "These people... it's like I have memories of them in my head, but I don't know who they are. Sometimes a name accompanies the image, but it's like an afterimage."

 

Aznia smiled and nodded, "Tell me about your courier service. When did you start Lakul Transport?"

 

"I didn't start it, it's a family business." she explained, "My grandmother was an El-Aurian. She was the Captain of the S.S. Lakul, which transported refugees to Earth after their homeworld was decimated by the Borg. Interestingly, she barely made it to Earth in one peice. The ship was caught in an energy ribbon, and was fortunate to have been towed to safety by the Enterprise-B. She was lucky the Enterprise was outfitted with a tractor beam that very morning, Starfleet protocol wouldn't let them leave drydock without one. The Lakul's sister ship was destroyed, but my grandmother made it to Earth with one of her vessels in tact. It was all she had when she arrived. She used it to start this business."

 

Aznia nodded, "Did you ever have any aspirations of joining Starfleet."

 

"I suppose I would have... but the family trade has always kept me busy." She chuckled, "...and my drawing."

 

"And your drawing." Aznia echoed. "Do you ever wonder why you have these visions you draw?"

 

"I think it's an El-Aurian trait. My grandmother had similar visions, much more intensely. It's like there's an awareness of something else out there. I really can't explain it."

 

"I think you're right, Elsie." Aznia leaned in, lowering her voice, "I think that there's been a horrible change to our history, and it may be up to me to fix it."

 

Walesa laughed aloud, "...and people think I'm crazy."

 

"Please, Elsie. For Span, for your son..." she tapped her finger on the picture of the half-Vulcan boy, "...consider what I'm saying."

 

Walesa turned serious, locking eyes with Aznia for a long moment. "Alright. I believe you."

 

---

 

The next afternoon, Aznia arrived at Admiral Deet's office in San Francisco. Aznia wanted to tell the Admiral what she'd discussed with Daniels, but she also realized the importance of keeping such information secret, Daniels had yet to contact her, so she was unsure of how to proceed.

 

"Aznia, come in... take a seat," the Admiral greeted her as she entered his office, "I've gone over your Command training records with Starfleet, they were reticent to give someone so young a command at this point; but I got a report in on my desk this morning, and we need good Captains more than ever." he smiled widely, "Congratulations, you're due for promotion this evening, and they're giving you command of the newly commissioned Tactical Escort, U.S.S. Federalist. Your first assignment will be on the lines in the Orellius sector."

 

Aznia was excited by the news, "Admiral, thank you. I don't know what to say."

 

"You could start by saying 'Yes, sir.'," the Admiral joked, "We'll hold the promotion ceremony at 1800 aboard the Federalist. Pack up your things and get ready to report aboard."

 

Aznia stood up, preparing to get to the task. Before leaving the room, she turned back to Admiral Deet, "Have you, by chance, spoken with Commander Daniels since yesterday?"

 

"He helped compile the data from your evaluations, but we didn't speak at length. Why do you ask?" Edinger inquired.

 

"We had an... interesting conversation. He suggested some interesting things about time travel and alternate timelines," Aznia decided to hold back, "...but I'm sure it was just banter."

 

Deet raised an eyebrow, "Alright, Aznia. You'd better get ready. I'll see you this evening."

 

Aznia left the Admiral's office, and returned to her temporary quarters at Starfleet Command. She packed up her things, and had them transporter aboard the Federalist. She decided to take a shuttle into orbit so that she could visually inspect her new ship, as it awaited in dry dock.

 

The shuttle launched from San Francisco and reached orbit in minutes, a Saurian ensign piloted the shuttle, "She's a beauty, Captain!" he said proudly as they approached the Escort in drydock.

 

"Yes she is, Lieutenant. But I'm not Captain quite yet." She quipped, "Are you serving aboard?"

 

"Aye, ma'am," the Saurian responded, "Lieutenant Jr. Grade Dewoh. I'll be working ship's security detail!"

 

Aznia immediately began to size up the situation, "Let me ask you, Lieutenant. If my orders seem unusual, even in our first mission, would you have any doubts?"

 

"Every situation is unique, Captain... Commander," he corrected himself, "I go where I'm ordered, and I will have your back."

 

Aznia smiled at the dark red alien, "Thank you Lieutenant."

 

The shuttle approached the Federalist docking doors, the large panels slid open, allowing the shuttle to access the ship. The shuttle's rear hatch opened as crewman awaited their commanding officer at attention. A formal whistle sounded, greeting Aznia aboard.

 

En'thaas and Rahall were two of the first officers to welcome Aznia, having just been transferred aboard, "I can't think of anyone I'd rather serve with," En'thaas assured the Captain.

 

"Congratulations, this is quite a ship," Rahall added.

 

"Well, I know she's got a fine helmsman and chief engineer!" Aznia complemented her senior staff. "I'd like to see the bridge before the reception ceremony."

 

"This way Captain Toma," En'thaas led the officers to the turbolift.

 

They walked aboard the bridge, as it all seemed strangely familiar to Aznia, she eyed up the Captain's chair, "I suppose that's yours," Rahall gestured for her to sit down.

 

Aznia sat in the seat, immediately pressing a few buttons on the arm, "Comfortable fit... just needs a little lumbar adjustment." she joked.

 

"The command transfer reception will be starting shortly in the deck-3 banquet room. I'm going to go see if I can find my dress uniform." En'thaas reminded the group.

 

"Officer thinking, I'm about to go do the same." the ship's new commanding officer stood up, as the crowd parted.

 

---

 

A few members of Starfleet brass arrived with Admiral Deet to the reception, a crowd of crew and dignitaries enjoyed good food and a mildly festive atmosphere, "Attention everyone!" Admiral Deet boasted from the central lectern, "Attention on deck!" Another ceremonial whistle blew, stopping the crowd in their tracks, Aznia stood alongside in anticipation as Edinger gave the orders. "For services performed on behalf of Starfleet and your crewmates, it is my honor to promote you, Aznia Toma, to Captain, with all the duties and privileges thereunto." Edinger pinned an additional pip on Aznia's uniform as the crowd began their applause, "Hold on... Hold on..." Deet settled the group lightheartedly, "Captain Aznia Toma, as of stardate 87355.47, by the request of Admiral Edinger Deet of Starfleet Command, you are hereby requested and required to accept command of the U.S.S. Federalist... Computer, transfer all command codes to Captain Aznia Toma, voice authorization Admiral Edinger Deet Pi-Omega-Six."

 

The computer chimed, it's cold voice repeating the order, "Transfer complete. U.S.S. Federalist now under command of Captain Aznia Toma."

 

"I relieve you sir," Aznia stated.

 

Edinger smiled, "I stand relieved." he reached out to shake Aznia's hand, "Congratulations, Captain." He quickly looked out toward the crowd in the room, "Now go ahead and clap." Laughter and applause filled the room. As the festivities continued.

 

"It's all a little overwhelming," Aznia mused.

 

Edinger raised and eyebrow, "This is overwhelming? Just wait until you've got a wing of Jem'hadar assault ships chasing you from behind, and two Romulan Warbirds ahead of you..."

 

"Well when you put it that way, maybe I'll just have another drink." Aznia joked.

 

Edinger praised the new Captain "I'm proud of you Az, you're going to do well here."

 

Aznia was overwhelmed with the support she'd received, and felt compelled to be more forthcoming with her Commanding officer. "I wanted to talk to you about this afternoon, remember I mentioned that conversation I had with Commander Daniels?"

 

"Yes, you mentioned he said something unusual to you?" Deet was suspicious.

 

"Well, to make a long story short, he suggested that he was from the 29th century and that changes made to the timeline needed to be corrected." Aznia raised her hand to assure the Admiral, "I wouldn't mention something that seemed so outlandish, except... he had some compelling evidence."

 

"What kind of evidence," Deet inquired sternly.

 

Aznia sighed, "He had some impressive holography, complex and detailed knowledge of history, back stories on individuals he couldn't have possibly otherwise known." she went on further, "And I went out of my way to check out some of these stories, and it all seems to hold up."

 

"What does he want you to do?"

 

"Well, ultimately, his goal is to restore the timeline- in his words." Aznia replied, "He asked me not to discuss this with anyone, and said he would follow up with additional information."

 

Deet was puzzled, "I'm glad you've come to me with this, clearly we need to find out what he plans to do. For now, I want you to wait for his instructions and get back with me. We need to stop whatever he's planning."

 

"But what if he's right, Admiral?" Aznia was concerned about Deet's dismissiveness, "What if this is all wrong, and we are on the wrong course."

 

"We've got our own history to protect, Aznia. The temporal prime directive demands we prevent incursions into the timeline as much as possible." Deet drove home the lesson, "Whatever he's asking you to do, if he can't bring it before Starfleet command, there is no place for it on the bridge of your ship. Do you understand?"

 

"Yes, sir." Aznia acted confident in the order, while hiding her substantial doubts.

 

---

 

Aznia retired to her quarters, ready to spend the first night aboard her new home. She began to unpack her personal possessions. A panel on the wall chimed to summon her attention. She walked to the panel activating the comm line, "Captain Toma here,"

 

"Captain, you're getting a message on a secure line." the communications officer informed.

 

"Go ahead and put them through." Aznia answered.

 

Daniels' face appeared on the uplink. "Congratulations, Captain. I trust everything went well with the Command Transfer?"

 

"It did, and I've been able to confirm much of your story as well." Aznia informed him.

 

Daniels explained, "I'm uploading information into the Federalist's computer about a phenomenon that will be passing through the Orellius system in the next few days."

 

"The Orellius system? That's where we're being sent on assignment." Aznia stated with a questioning tone.

 

"Right. You'd be surprised by the orders you can divert and sway when you work for Starfleet Command." he got back to the point, "This phenomenon is a conflux of temporal energy. The bottom line is that it will allow you anyone who enters it to leave anywhere, at any point in history."

 

"Just that easy? Sounds too good to be true." Aznia shot back.

 

"Well," Daniels sighed, "Not quite. The ribbon has proved incredibly destructive to any ship that is pulled near it. 120 years ago, two El-Aurian transport ships were rescued from the ribbon by the Enterprise-B. It can be a very dangerous phenomenon."

 

Aznia remembered the same story from Elsie, "How do you suggest we proceed?" Aznia asked.

 

"First off, I'd like you to familiarize yourself with the history regarding the U.S.S. Kelvin incident. When you leave the ribbon, you'll be traveling to the year 2233 and boarding the Narada, a Romulan vessel that arrived in our space through a temporal anomaly exactly at that time. You'll need to bring several officers who each need to be briefed on the situation in detail. The more trusted officers that you can muster, the better. Based on what I know of the phenomenon, each officer who enters the ribbon will be enticed by a fantasy that will tempt them to stay, they need to resist it, so I hope you can find disciplined minds for this mission as well. Ultimately your goal will be to commandeer or destroy the Narada from within, as soon as you arrive, and at any cost."

 

Aznia replied, "Understood, and how do we get into the ribbon?"

 

Daniels braced himself for a negative reaction, "I've arranged to have a crate placed aboard your ship. You will find it in Cargo Bay two marked as '5000 Self-Sealing stem-bolts', in the crate, you will find all of the necessary components and instructions to modify one of your quantum torpedoes with a trilithium warhead."

 

"Trilithium?" Aznia recoiled.

 

"You'll need to fire the warhead into the Defera sun in the next 72 hours in order to change the course of the ribbon so that it intersects with Lae'nas III. I'm sending over all of the data you'll need." Daniels explained the plan.

 

"That will kill everything in the Defera system!" Aznia shouted down the plan, "I won't have any part of it!"

 

"If you succeed, none of it matters! Those lives will be restored!" Daniels pleaded.

 

"I think you're a little too confident and comfortable playing god, Daniels." Aznia reasserted herself, "I was already unsure if I wanted to go along with your plan, and now you're asking me to murder billions of people?!"

 

"I am asking you to save billions of people," Daniels demanded, "I've been waiting for years for a chance to access this anomaly. The time is right to set everything straight. If we succeed, the consequences of this timeline are erased!"

 

"If we succeed... 'If'." Aznia scoffed, raising another matter, "Tell me Daniels, what happens to Admiral Deet in your other timeline?"

 

"Admiral Deet?" Daniels was thrown by the question, "What do you mean?"

 

"I spoke to someone who seemed to have some knowledge of your timeline. They suggested my name was Aznia Deet." Aznia raised an eyebrow, "Why else would that be my name? Why would I end up with the Deet symbiont?"

 

Daniels rolled his eyes, "Edinger Deet died in service of his career as a doctor. In my universe, he was a great healer who gave his life on a mission that saved millions of lives from an environmental disaster, and thankfully you were there to save his symbiont when things went south."

 

"So, if this mission is a success, the Admiral dies." Aznia cut to the chase.

 

"Yes." Daniels admitted, "And I'm asking you to restore his fate as a hero and a healer, and to save all of those lives that he already sacrificed himself to save once. Aznia, I'm asking you to affirm the decision he's already made."

 

"Daniels, I'm not destroying that solar system, and that's the end of the story." Aznia shut down the conversation, "Goodbye, Daniels. I'm sorry I can't help you." she pressed a button to turn the monitor black.

 

Aznia sat down on the edge of her bed, contemplating the situation for a good long while. After several minutes she made a decision, "Computer, establish a communications like to Lakul Transport in Coeur D'Alene, Idaho."

 

---

 

The Federalist arrived in the Orellius sector. Aznia had spent hours pouring over the data sent to her by Daniels. She hailed Admiral Deet, "Admiral, I wanted to let you know what Daniels was planning."

 

"Go ahead, Captain." the Admiral gave her his full attention. "He had a trilithium warhead placed aboard the Federalist. He wanted me to use it on the Deferi star, so that the gravitational forces in the sector would shift, and a temporal nexus would intersect with Lae'nas III. He then wanted me to enter the temporal nexus in order to change history."

 

"He wanted you to destroy a star?!" The Admiral was shocked.

 

"That's right, I suggest you have him brought into custody immediately." Aznia insisted.

 

"I want that trilithium device, Aznia. Not only would it be important evidence against Daniels, but that is a weapon of mass destruction that I do not want aboard one of our ships on the frontline." Deet was concerned.

 

"Do you want the Federalist to return to Starbase?" Aznia offered.

 

Deet responded, "No, I'll take the L'Étoile du Nord to rendezvous with you tomorrow at Defera."

 

"The Federalist will be there, Admiral." Aznia nodded, "Aznia out."

 

---

 

The Federalist and the L'Étoile du Nord rendezvoused in orbit of Defera, Deet hailed the Federalist to initiate contact. "Hello, Federalist, are you prepared to transport the device?"

 

"Lieutenant Corbin Bohannon here, Admiral. We're transporting it now." a junior officer answered.

 

Deet was curious, "Where is Captain Toma?"

 

"She left yesterday along with several members of the bridge crew. She said it was a top-priority matter, and placed me in command. That's all I know." Bohannon struggled to explain.

 

Deet ended the communications without warning, "Computer, are there any known temporal anomalies passing through this sector?"

 

"A conflux of temporal energy is currently passing near the Lae'nas system."

 

Deet grabbed his helmsman by the shoulder, "Set a course, maximum warp!"

 

---

 

Aznia, Dewoh, En'thaas and Rahall stood with Elsie Walesa on the bridge of the Lakul. The rusty old El-Aurian transport rattled and hummed as they plotted their strategy.

 

"No matter what you see in that ribbon, you need to remain focused." Aznia insisted, "We need to focus our attentions on emerging in the Narada's engine room as soon as it enters our space. Once we're there, we do whatever we can to detonate their singularity core. At all costs. Remember, if we succeed, the timeline will reset, and we all take our chances on an entirely new fate. We aren't giving our lives here."

 

The crew was ready to trust the Captain, no matter the consequences.

 

A chime rang on a nearby control panel, Elsie moved to investigate. "It's a Federation starship, Aznia." she warned.

 

"Can you hail them," Aznia asked.

 

Edinger appeared on screen, "Aznia, what are you doing?"

 

"Daniels' methods may have been abhorrent," Aznia admitted, "but his goals were admirable. We need to fix this timeline. I believe you would've want it that way."

 

"I want to see the timeline preserved, Aznia. You need to remember your oath to the prime directive." Deet began to lecture.

 

"It's time to heal what's been broken," Aznia confessed, "In another world, you would understand that. At least I hope you do."

 

Edinger responded, "I don't know what any of this means, Aznia; but you're sacrificing a lot by pulling this stunt."

 

"Admiral, however this ends, I want to thank you for the faith you've put in me. I'm doing my best to live up to it." Aznia clenched her teeth, knowing she was sentencing this man to death, "...and I'm sorry for whatever changes for you. But I believe you'd really want it this way. Toma out." the screen went to black.

 

Aznia hung her head in sadness for a long moment, as the L'Étoile du Nord attempted to engage a tractor beam.

 

"Polarize the hull to break free, then set a course into the ribbon!" Walesa ordered to Rahall, who manned the navigation console, "Let's get to the cargo bay!"

 

The team rushed to the ship's cargo bay as the ship careened on auto pilot into the ribbon, as soon as they were all in, Walesa reached for a control panel, hesitating for a moment; "Are we ready!?"

 

"Let's go!" Aznia shouted back as Walesa pressed the button.

 

The cargo bay doors blew open, jettisoning all five of them out of the ship and into the ribbon violently. As Aznia was pulled out into space, she watched the energy of the ribbon blasting into the Lakul's hull as the ship was rocked to pieces, for a moment she wondered if the plan was going to work as her breath was forced from her lungs by the frigid vacuum of space.

 

---

 

Aznia found herself standing in a woodland meadow, walking in bare feet walking through the softest grass she'd ever felt. A stream peacefully babbled nearby. She looked around briefly forgetting her mission altogether. It was the most serene setting she'd ever seen. After a moment, she shook her head... "No. This is an illusion," she reminded herself. She closed her eyes tightly, and before any more enticement could fall her way, she willed herself out of the Nexus.

 

---

 

The singularity core of the Narada was in a large dreary room- a stark contrast from the meadow she'd found herself in moments before. Aznia appeared there with Rahal, Dewoh, En'thaas and Walesa together, surprising several Romulan officer who drew their weapons on the intruders immediately.

 

Dewoh was shot down first, the others took cover.

 

"Rahal, can you overload the core?" Aznia shouted over the disruptor fire.

 

She answered, "I'll need a minute, Captain!"

 

Aznia darted across the room, drawing the fire of the Romulans. She ducked behind a console, then rolled out to focus their attention as much as possible. She pointed for her other crew members to do the same, all while giving Rahall a chance to work at destroying the ship from within.

 

En'thaas lunged out from behind a console and attacked one of the Romulans, he knocked the guard's disruptor loose, but was shot by another guard in the process.

 

Elsie ran the opposite direction, hoping to give Aznia time to get to the loose disruptor. Aznia sprinted for it diving to grab the device, but Walesa was shot before Aznia could draw down on her assailant.

 

Aznia briefly looked to see Rahall still working on the singularity core. She pulled up the disruptor hoping to buy just a few more seconds. Aznia fired, downing one Romulan. In the process, she drew the fire of another, and took a fatal bolt to the chest without ever seeing Rahall complete the job.

 

---

 

"Ahh!" Aznia Deet gasped awake in a cold sweat. "Computer, what's the time?" Deet found herself in her bed aboard the Federalist, stunned by the odd dream.

 

"The time is 2334 hours." the computer dispassionately reported.

 

She climbed out of bed, "Water, 2 degrees Celsius." a glass of water appeared for her in her replicator. She drank it quickly, trying to shake off the vivid nightmare she'd just endured.

 

Against her better judgment, she tapped her combadge, "Deet to Walesa."

 

A groggy voice answered the hail, "Yes, Capitan."

 

"I'm sorry to bother you this late, but I have a strange question for you." Aznia suddenly felt silly bothering someone about her nightmare.

 

"It's alright Captain, go ahead." Walesa answered.

 

Deet asked, "Was your grandmother El-Aurian?"

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Perpendicular

 

"What do we know about the Cormai?" Aznia asked the question openly to her senior staff in the Federalist's briefing room.

 

"The Cormai are an advanced civilization, but have apparently shown no interest in space faring technology." Lt. Atom informed the Captain, "The Romulans and Zakdorn have both visited their planet, but we will be the first Federation ship to make contact with them. Reports suggest that the Cormai believe they share their planet with another species called the Ketallians, but no evidence suggests that they actually exist."

 

Quallo chimed in, "According to what I've heard, the Cormai will have conversations with people who aren't there. They will leave vacant places at meeting tables for the Ketallian to join them. They have an obsessive devotion toward these invisible counterparts, yet no physical evidence has even been presented that suggests there is anyone actually there. It's as if they have an entire society of imaginary friends."

 

"Fascinating." Aznia responded, "Perhaps we can be the first to make contact with the Ketallian people as well."

 

"Captain," Span interjected, "We have no evidence that such a race exists. Perhaps a more skeptical approach is warranted."

 

"Skepticism is always healthy, Mr. Span," Aznia reassured the Vulcan doctor, "but if the Cormai insist that there is somebody there, I'm going to try to take their word for it. Our mission is to seek out new life, and this sounds like a fantastic opportunity. For the time being, I'd like us to operate with respect and open-mindedness toward the claims of the Cormai, however outlandish they may seem. Is that understood?"

 

The crew nodded.

 

"Alright." Aznia smiled, "A first contact mission is a nice change of pace for us. This is why we're all out here. Let's savor the opportunity and do everything we can to make a new friend. Dismissed."

 

---

 

The Federalist arrived in orbit of the Cormai home world, "A hail is coming in from the surface." Quallo reported.

 

"On screen." Deet stood from her chair.

 

"Greetings," a tall, slim, grey skinned man stood in the left half of the view screen; his equally grey hair draped long and free from his head down past his shoulders. His appearance was quite humanoid, if devoid of any color. "I am Coadjunct Ooralin, Leader of the Cormai People." he gestured to the empty right half of the view screen, "This is Coadjunct Leatur, Leader of the Ketallian People." he smiled, toward the vacant area beside him, as if listening to someone speak."

 

Aznia watched the Cormai leader carefully for an indication that he was waiting for a response. She did not want to appear to interrupt the Ketallian if they were issuing a greeting.

 

"Well, Captain?" Ooralin suddenly cut in from the silence.

 

"I'm sorry, Coadjunct..." she paused, rethinking her presentation. She turned to the vacant area of the screen. "I am sorry to say that we can not see or hear you, Coadjunct Leatur." she turned back to Ooralin, "Could you please repeat your counterpart's question so that I may answer?"

 

Ooralin sighed, "This is most frustrating, Captain. Every visitor we get insists that there is nobody here when they are clearly standing right before us!"

 

"I apologize if I've offended you, but I certainly don't wish to insist that nobody is there; only that I can not see them." Aznia reiterated, turning to the vacant side of screen. "I would like to learn more about the Ketallians, and to see if contact can be established between us."

 

Ooralin nodded. "I appreciate that, Captain. Perhaps you would join us here. We'd love to have you and your crew as guests."

 

"I look forward to it." Aznia happily responded.

 

The grey man on screen simply nodded his head as the viewscreen cut out.

 

Aznia turned to her science officer, "Atom, what do you make of it."

 

"I am conducting scans of the planet surface, and the city centers seem to be populated uniformly with Cormai life signs. There are no indications of another sentient species." The Android reported.

 

Aznia stepped behind the Android's station, peering over his shoulder at the console. "Atom, I want you to continue scanning this planet. Don't confine your scans to lifeforms. Look for anything unusual. I'd like a report of your findings by the time we get back."

 

"Understood." The android confidently replied to the order.

 

"Span, Quallo, I'd like you to accompany me to the planet's surface. Bring a class three medical tricorder. Let's see if we can get some close range scans." Aznia turned to her first officer, "Elsie, you have the bridge."

 

---

 

The officers transported to the planet's surface and were greeted by Coadjunct Ooralin.

 

"Thank you for joining us, Captain." He gestured to an empty space next to him, "Of course, no introduction is needed for Coadjunct Leatur..."

 

Aznia gazed toward the empty space, doing her best to address the nothingness she perceived, "Hello. We look forward to learning more about your people as we visit. We hope this can be the beginning of a strong partnership... I hate to intrude, but would you permit us to conduct some scans of you, so that we can try to learn a bit more about why we can not perceive you?"

 

Ooralin nodded, "Of course. You may proceed."

 

Span removed his tricorder, "Please stand directly in front of me." he said to thin air. About 30 seconds of intensive scanning passed before Span closed the tricorder. "I detect nothing, Captain." he reported.

 

The Coadjunct simply shook his head, "You're scanning for our kind of matter. The Ketallians exist in a different realm."

 

"How do you interact with them?" Aznia inquired.

 

"We see them almost as clearly as we see you. Frankly, I don't understand why outsiders can not perceive them."

 

"Can you touch them?" Span asked.

 

Ooralin shook his head from side to side, "No. Our matter passes right through them, just as their matter passes right through us. We have our own cities, our own buildings, our own things... but we share this planet. We communicate and share information. They are as much a part of our culture as we are a part of theirs."

 

Span raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

 

"Would you hold up your hand." Ooralin asked Span.

 

Span obliged.

 

"Five digits... interesting." The Coadjunct was momentarily fascinated by Span's Vulcan hand, holding his own four fingered hand up beside it. Returning to his train of thought, he continued, "Hold your hand behind your back so that I can not see it. Leatur will stand behind you, and will tell me how many of your digits you hold up."

 

Span nodded, he held up one finger behind his back.

 

"One." The Coadjunct correctly reported.

 

Aznia raised and eyebrow toward Span, somewhat impressed. "I'm suspecting that wasn't just a lucky guess."

 

The tour of the Cormai capitol continued, as they were surprised by the architectural style. It was as if pieces of structures were intentionally missing, as if another building would stand in a vacant space between two busy structures. Roads would end abruptly in places with seemingly no logical terminus. It was as if half of this society just didn't exist. As curious as it seemed, the inhabitants that they encountered were friendly, and seemed to appreciate the Starfleet officers' open mindedness.

 

"Why hasn't your culture reached out into space?" Aznia asked the Ooralin.

 

"The Ketallians have engaged in some space travel, but they have found very little of interest, we assumed there was very little intelligent life out there. Aside from mining expiditions, they've found little of interest. Of course, the Cormai can not travel in Ketallian ships, as we do not interact with their matter. We were actually very surprised when visitors began to arrive at our planet, as we assumed we were the only species in our region of space."

 

"Would you like to visit our ship, Coadjunct?" Aznia offered.

 

"It would be a great honor, Captain."

 

Aznia tapped her commbadge. "Deet to Federalist, four to beam up."

 

Aznia led the Coadjunct on a tour of the ship, they stopped at a crew lounge to appreciate the view of the planet below.

 

"It's an amazing perspective to see one's home from above. I am so grateful for this opportunity." he stated in awe.

 

"Perhaps you'd like to see..." Aznia was interrupted by a klaxon mid sentence.

 

"Walesa to Deet, we're getting a distress call from a Romulan Science Ship on the outer edge of this solar system.

 

"What are the Romulans doing here?" Aznia turned to Ooralin.

 

Ooralin shrugged, "I know nothing about this."

 

"Coadjunct, we'll return you to the planet before we leave to..."

 

Ooralin interrupted, "I think this may be important business to my people. I'd like to accompany you."

 

"Very well." Aznia tapped her commbadge "Walesa, lay in a course. I'll be right there..."

 

---

 

The Federalist arrived at the scene of distress, a Romulan science vessel was being thrown asunder by a spacial distortion.

 

Atom chimed in, "The Romulan vessel's singularity core appears to be destabilizing. The space around the vessel is being pulled out of phase."

 

"Hail the Romulan ship." Aznia ordered.

 

"Starfleet!" a Romulan Subcommander pleaded, "We've been drawn into a gravemetric distortion. We seem to be anchored here by a cross-focal point in the rift. We're losing structural integrity!"

 

Aznia ordered, "Quallo, ready a tractor beam. See if we can pull them out of there."

 

"I can't get a lock captain, the space around the ship is too distorted." Quallo responded.

 

"How about transporters?" Aznia inquired.

 

"We can't drop our shields! It's all that's keeping our ship together!" The Romulan subcommander interjected, "But if you fire a photon torpedo at the focal point of the rift, I think we can survive the blast and break whatever is tethering us here."

 

"It should work, Captain." Atom answered.

 

Aznia turned back to Tactical, "Quallo, prepare a torpedo!"

 

"Wait, no!" Ooralin interrupted. "There are Ketallian mining ships in this area! If you start firing weapons, people could be killed."

 

"Coadjunct, we need some way to detect those ships... quickly." Aznia insisted.

 

"Let me access a communications array? I'll contact traffic control on our homeworld and have the position of their ships patched through to your sensors."

 

"Dewoh, help him with that." Aznia nodded to the bridges rear security station.

 

Span stepped up beside the Captain, lowering his voice. "Captain, we still don't even know that these people exist. It is illogical to endanger the Romulan ship by prolonging this."

 

"Span, you saw the effect these people have. They did the 'number behind the back' trick for you. How much evidence do you need?" Aznia scoffed.

 

"Many species have telepathic abilities. And some species have powerful imaginations that may allow the to collectively believe a delusion like this. There are many explanations for what we've seen. We need to work with the confirmed evidence we have. And we have no solid evidence to suggest that the Ketallian species exists." The Vulcan insisted.

 

"We're patching through the Cormai transponder signals now Captain." Dewoh interrupted from the back of the bridge. "This is... not what we want to see."

 

An overlay appeared on the viewscreen. One signal marker appeared directly within the phenomenon that was anchoring the Romulan ship.

 

"The Romulans are tethered to a Ketallian ship?!" Ooralin exclaimed. "You can't open fire on them! There are 75 workers on that ship!!"

 

"Captain, our shields are failing!!" The Romulan hailed, "Fire now!!"

 

Aznia hesitated, briefly looking back at Span and shaking her head. She turned back to the Romulan mournfully. "We can't open fire, Subcommander. We believe there is another ship on the other side of that rift. Have your crew evacuate to transporter pads and cargo bays, so we can get a lock as quickly as possible when your shields fail."

 

The Subcommander nodded to another officer, "This is unacceptable, Captain!!" the viewscreen cut out.

 

A moment passed by, "Their shields have collapsed!!" Quallo shouted.

 

"Beam them out! NOW!!" Aznia yelled just as the Romulan ship exploded.

 

Everyone waited in silence for an eternal moment.

 

First of Eight was finally broke the report, "We saved 94. But that ship had an expected compliment of 150."

 

"The Cormai homeworld is reporting that the Ketallian mining vessel is adrift, but suffered no casualties." Dewoh signaled.

 

The Cormai Coadjunct stepped up beside Aznia, "Captain, you've done everything you could've done. This is a sad day."

 

"Span, I'll accompany you to sick bay. I'm sure the Romulan survivors will have wounded." Aznia lamented, stepping into the turbolift.

 

Before the doors closed, Atom rushed into the lift. "Captain, I believe I know what is happening." the doors closed as the three officers discussed the situation.

 

"Turbolift, hold." Aznia wanted an uninterrupted explanation.

 

"I believe the Ketallian people exist... in a perpendicular universe." Atom explained.

 

"Perpendicular? This sounds like something from a bad science fiction story." Aznia mocked. She rested her face in her hand a quick moment, "I'm sorry Atom, go ahead."

 

"We assume that alternate realities travel parallel to our own. This is not always the case. Realities exist across multiple dimensions- beyond our own perception. Normally, two intersecting realities would not interact in any perceivable way, as they are fundamentally out of phase from one and other. But in this case, there is a link through space time."

 

"What do you mean?" Aznia raised an eyebrow.

 

Atom explained, "My scans of the planet turned up unusual gravemetric readings. The planet's mass could not account for the entirety of its gravity field. I believe at the core of their homeworld, there is a microscopic but stable black hole."

 

"Wouldn't it consume the planet?" Aznia inquired, somewhat ignorantly.

 

"Not necessarily." Atom continued, "If the black hole is linked in equilibrium to another black hole in the corresponding universe- two black holes occupying the same space and the same time in two different universes- we could see nothing more than a stable gravity field as an outsider. Anything beyond the surface of the microsingularity would be impossible to detect."

 

"Fascinating. Then why are the Cormai able to see the Ketallians?" Aznia inquired.

 

Atom shrugged, "I can not be sure without further study. It may be a result of evolving in such proximity to these unusual conditions. It may cause effects we can not truly predict."

 

"Turbolift, continue." Aznia ordered. She turned back to her officers, "This is all fascinating, but I'm sure the Romulans will not accept this explanation."

 

The turbolift arrived at deck four. As the officers stepped into the corridor toward sick bay, they were surprised to hear commotion ringing through the hallway. The Romulan survivors had suddenly turned on their Starfleet rescuers, and a firefight had broken out just moments before they stepped out.

 

"Security to deck 4, the Romulans have decided to make this difficult!"

 

Aznia accessed several phasers from a nearby weapons locker and backed up a security team that was fighting a group of Romulans near sickbay.

 

"A ship for a ship, captain!" one of the Romulans screamed out, recognizing the senior officer. "You stood idly by while our ship was destroyed! For that we will take yours!"

 

Aznia ducked behind a bulkhead for cover, "There's more to the story that you don't know! Stand down and we can work this out!"

 

The disrupter fire continued, Atom took down two Romulans with precise shooting, but they were pinned back, outnumbered.

 

"We need to hold them until security gets to this section." Aznia plotted, "Atom, can you evade their fire long enough to get into Science Lab 1?"

 

"I believe so," the agile Android answered.

 

"OK." she tapped a control panel on the wall. "I'm flooding Science Lab 1 with anethsizine. Lure as many of them in there as you can. Span and I will stay behind and cover you."

 

Atom darted off down the corridor, diving out of the way of disrupter fire. Span picked off another Romulan. Once Atom disappeared through the Science Lab doors, two Romulans confidently chased in behind him. Four additional Romulans advanced on Aznia and Span.

 

Aznia dove out into the corridor firing, knocking out another Romulan, but exposing herself in the process. Two Romulans drew a bead on the Captain. Just before they were able to fire, Atom reemerged from the Science Lab and stunned them both. "Nice shooting," Aznia breathed a sigh of relief. "Computer, status report!"

 

"Weapons fire ceased on deck 4. Additional weapons fire detected on decks 7, 9, and 10."

 

"Captain to all hands!" Aznia paged the entire crew, "Abandon the Delta section of the ship! Repeat, abandon the Delta section!"

 

"Captain, is that wise?" Span warned.

 

"We separate the Delta section, trapping a majority of the Romulans there in the process." Aznia explained. "I can lock out the command interface remotely. They'll be a sitting duck."

 

Atom monitored from a wall console for a moment. He nodded to the Captain, "Delta section is clear of all Federation personnel."

 

"Aznia to bridge, detach the Delta Section. Lock out all command functions for that section except life support!"

 

The bulkheads whirred and the computer engaged a klaxon as several kilotons of tritanium broke away from the main mass of the ship.

 

"Atom, can you detect how many Romulans remain aboard."

 

The android tapped a query into the panel, "Fifteen. Three conscious and twelve unconscious."

 

"Good. Dispatch security teams to clean up." Aznia lamented. "Take the Delta section in tow, let's get Coadjunct Ooralin back home."

 

The Federalist returned to the Cormai homeworld with the Delta section in tow, Aznia met with the Coadjunct in the transporter room before he was returned to the planet's surface.

 

"Do you have any idea how the Ketallian ship may have become tethered to the Romulan ship?"

 

"Captain, I'm not a scientist. I'm sorry, but I'll have to refer you to our best people. I promise to have them overview everything that's gone on here, and we'll get back to you immediately. I can assure you, we are in your debt today."

 

"Thank you, Coadjunct." Aznia watched as he was returned home.

 

Aznia walked back to the bridge to handle the issue of the Romulan's held captive in the Delta section. "Hail them." she ordered.

 

"To all Romulans aboard the Federalist Delta Section, you are under arrest for assault on a Federation starship under code 6, provision 14 of the Treaty of Bassen. You have the right to request arbitration, to withhold comment, and to speak to a representative from your government as soon as one becomes available. Do you wish to make a statement?"

 

A Romulan Subcommander responded to the hail, "You are interfering with a Tal Shiar operation. We do not recognize the treaties signed by the Romulan Republic, as they do not represent our true Empire. As we speak, a Tal Shiar battleship is en route to liberate us and to continue our mission. Release the command codes for this section, and we will forego the execution of your crew."

 

"Even if I feared your threat, there's not a chance that would happen." Aznia mocked, "So why don't you tell us what you were doing here?"

 

"This area of space is full of microsingularities that exist on the other side of a spacial divide," The Romulan arrogantly confessed, "We hoped to tether one of our singularity cores to the countering microsingularities, in order to perform a controlled pull- one of our ships into the alternate universe. From there we can travel to another point, completely undetected, and set up stations to reemerge at will. This technology will make cloaking devices look like cloth camouflage."

 

Aznia turned to Atom for verification of the theory.

 

The Android nodded. "I understand what they are proposing, Captain. With such technology they would become invisible to every method of detection..."

 

"These microsingularities... what are they." Aznia asked.

 

Atom answered, "I would deduce that they are actually the power cores of the Ketallian ships. The Romulans would only need to prey upon one of them in order to establish their own network of singularity beacons."

 

Aznia understood, "So the microsingularities... They're trying to artificially bridge the gap the same way that the Cormai homeworld did naturally."

 

"Captain, we've got company!" Quallo warned.

 

A D'deridex class Warbird emerged from behind a cloak.

 

"Red Alert, Shields Up. All hands to battlestations." Aznia responded with surprising calm. "Hail them."

 

Tal Shiar Admiral Sirol appeared on the viewscreen, "Captain our scans indicate you are responsible for the destruction of the I.R.W. T'Ken, and that you are holding several of her crew captive. We demand you release them and surrender to stand trial!"

 

"We are not responsible! They were preying on an innocent alien ship, and were caught up in their own anomaly. We saved several members of their crew, who in turn attacked us. They will need to stand trial under the Treaty of Bassen!" Aznia obstinately insisted.

 

"So they've divulged their mission?" Sirol scoffed, "Traitors." He tapped a control on his panel, firing disrupters and plasma torpedoes on the unshielded Delta Section, destroying it in a single volley.

 

"It's gone captain, all hands lost." Quallo reported in shock.

 

"You didn't have to do that Sirol!" Aznia shouted across the monitor. "Enough blood has been shed today!"

 

Sirol shook his head, "You don't understand, do you? This empire has been handed one loss, one tragedy after another! This technology will restore us to prominence, we will again be the raptor of this galaxy... and I will not allow you to stand in its way!!"

 

The viewscreen cut out as the Warbird maneuvered into an attack posture. They unloaded a barrage of disrupter fire on the Federalist.

 

"Shields down to 74%, Captain." Quallo informed.

 

Aznia focused her senses on the battle, "Come about 17 degrees. Target their maneuvering thrusters with plasma cannons. I want to be sure they can't pursue."

 

The Federalist opened fire on the Romulan thrusters, "That's not going to do it. We'll need another pass!" En'thaas spoke from the Helm.

 

"Come about, lets get aggressive with them! Get in close, another volley, fire at will!" She ordered.

 

"They're venting warp plasma, we don't want to fly into that!" First of Eight informed.

 

"Back us off! Do we have torpedoes ready?" Aznia inquired.

 

Quallo responded. "I can give you at least one high yield torpedo right away."

 

"Hold off just a second, focus cannons on their shield emitters. Let's get everything we can out of that big shot."

 

"Captain, something is happening to the Romulan singularity core." Atom informed.

 

Aznia shifted her attention to the science display, "The Ketallians! They've ensnared the Warbird! The Romulan power levels are dropping rapidly!"

 

"Captain, the Ketallians won't survive if a Romulan Warbird loses singularity containment in close proximity," Atom explained.

 

"They aren't going to make it." Dewoh mournfully stated.

 

"Yes they will." Aznia insisted. She turned to her First Officer, "Elsie. Evacuate the crew to the Alpha Section. I'm taking the Beta Section into the distortion!"

 

"What is that going to do!?" Walesa argued.

 

"I'm going to push the Alpha section through to the other universe and beam the Ketallian crew aboard." Aznia explained the crazy last ditch plan, "It's their only chance."

 

"Captain... you're going to get yourself killed." Elsie pleaded.

 

Aznia nodded, "They were willing to do the same for us. I'll be damned if I'm going to withhold their only chance!"

 

Everyone hesitated in silence for a moment.

 

"GO! That's an order!" Aznia demanded.

 

The crew snapped to their rapid evacuation plan.

 

The Alpha Section retreated from battle, as Aznia manually piloted the Beta Section into the distortion. She manually adjusted for gravemetric variances as the ship passed out of phase between the two tethered artificial singularities. As the Federalist's Beta Section passed near the Warbird, the Romulan ship fired a disruptor with its dying breaths, taking out the starboard nacelle.

 

"I guess that's it." Aznia thought as the Federalist veered out of control, and death seemed certain. "Ketallian vessel, if you hear this..."

 

Aznia felt her skin tingle as a transporter beam locked onto her in the last moment before the Beta Section lost containment and exploded. She materialized aboard a strange small ship, that violently shoot beneath her feet as the shockwave impacted.

 

"Captain! Welcome aboard!" The colorful pilot cheerfully exclaimed. "Two seconds... kinda busy here! The only way out is... THROUGH!" the pilot screamed as the small craft rode the shockwave of the Federalist's core breach through the singularity, and back into Aznia's universe. "I guess that's that."

 

As the ship emerged from turbulent space, the crippled Romulan Warbird was released from the anomaly powerless and adrift. "Excuse me, you are..." Aznia asked.

 

A golden skinned woman stood up from the single pilot controls of the ship, "Leatur." she extended her hand, her short multicolored hair disheveled after the intense battle. "I'll be honest captain, I didn't expect to make it out of that..."

 

"Neither did I." Aznia chuckled before turning serious, "...but I'm not sure we can send you home."

 

"New adventures, Captain. You saved 75 of my people today. The least I could do is sacrifice myself to save your crew. And it turns out I didn't even need to do that. I'm smiling if you're smiling."

 

---

 

The Alpha Section of the Federalist came about, collecting the small Ketallian craft. Aznia shed a proverbial tear to see that the saucer was all that was left of her beloved Federalist.

 

"They'll build you a new one." the gregarious Ketallian empathetically interjected. "And I do have a request about that."

 

"Anything." Aznia nodded.

 

"I'd like asylum... with this whole new universe to explore. Did you know that in our universe we're the only intelligent life in the vicinity? A whole galaxy with nothing happening. This place seems exciting!"

 

Aznia smiled, "Of course. We'll be happy to give you every opportunity to succeed here, and you can always return to the Cormai whenever you like."

 

"Oh, stars, no!" she lamented, "I was chosen as Coadjunct when I was only a kid! And Ooralin... talk about a wind bag... Nice man, well meaning, but you try working with him every day for most of your life! Getting out here... away from the bureaucracy, away from the life I had... this is a blessing!"

 

Aznia grinned widely, her own struggles came to mind. Just a year earlier, her dream of joining the JAG corps seemed shattered. Today she found herself embracing new frontiers, and unexpected challenges. "You know what? You're right. It's a better life out here. But I am going to miss this ship."

 

Span stepped into the shuttlebay to meet Aznia and the Ketallian Coadjunct.

 

Leatur held up one finger in front of the Vulcan's face grinning widely, nearly chuckling.

 

Span nodded coldly, but graciously at the friendly taunt. He turned to the Captain, "Starfleet has been filled in, Captain. We are ordered to report to the 40Eridani-A shipyards for decommissioning. Admiral Park would like a word with you immediately."

 

Aznia stepped toward a console in the shuttlebay, Park appeared looking stern. Aznia attempted to explain, "Admiral, I..." but she was cut off...

 

"There will be a lot of people talking about what went on today." Park stated authoritatively, "It's a stigma to lose a ship under your command... it haunts a career. But let's be very clear here, you're still standing aboard the Federalist. There may not be much left of her: a mast, a tattered sail; but you didn't lose that ship. I'm going to see to it that you don't... Effective upon the decommission of your Federalist, I'm issuing special dispensation for the fleet's newest escort, the U.S.S. Hestia, to be renamed the U.S.S. Federalist; and for you to take command as soon as she's through her shake down paces."

 

"Admiral... I..." Aznia was speechless.

 

Park cut her off again, "You've become a real leader, Aznia. Edinger would be proud. And so am I. You deserve the best. Park out." The screen cut abruptly to a Starfleet command logo.

 

"You know what," Aznia turned to Leatur, "You're right... This place is exciting."

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This is a departure from my usual fare, as I've submitted it to the official star trek short story contest. A little longer, a little more polished, and a lot more focus on canon. Writing this story was a true labor of love.

 

"The Human Element" tells the story of Lore (Data's brother) and his life on Omicron Theta 20 years before the start of The Next Generation. I did my best to fill the until story within the franchise, without upsetting the existing backstory.

 

Feedback appreciated!

 

http://dropcanvas.com/ep23j

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I've decided to start writing again, and I hope to take the stories along a continuing arc from this point.

 

New Frontiers

 

"Imagine spending Christmas on New Talax, and being home in time for New Years." Miles O'Brien led a meeting of young engineers in a large meeting room aboard Starbase 40Eridani-A.

 

"Christmas?" a Bolian interrupted.

 

O'Brien smirked, "An old Earth holiday." he explained. "The graviton catapult is going to revolutionize the way we explore space; and you're all going to be a part of it. Each of you has been selected to take part in this ambitious project."

 

The meeting room's door opened, a solitary command-red uniform waded across the sea of gold shirted engineers quietly, leaning alone against a far wall.

 

"Captain Deet," O'Brien turned his attention to the officer, "Thank you for joining us."

 

"My pleasure, Commandant. I just wanted to meet the team." Deet smiled.

 

"Just call me Chief," O'Brien quipped, distancing himself from his titular position as head of the Starfleet Corp of Engineers. "Would you care to address the group?"

 

Aznia stood up straightening her uniform quickly. "I'm sure you've all read the mission outline. Several of you were involved in the initial construction project. To summarize: Starfleet has designed and tested its first graviton catapult in the Beta Stromgren system. In just over an hour's time, a probe was successfully sent over 3,000 light years into uncharted space. At conventional warp, the same trip would take 2-3 years. The time has now come that Starfleet is ready to send someone- to send us through.

 

Our mission is simple: six ships travel through the catapult. We'll be stocked with the tools to build another catapult on the other side. We'll need to locate resources, find an acceptable staging area, and be prepared to encounter the unknown. If all goes well, we'll have a second catapult up and running in a few months and we'll be able to get back home.

 

I'll be taking point of the mission in command of the Federalist. Chief O'Brien will lead Engineering operations from his ship, the DaVinci. We'll be accompanied by the Revere for additional tactical support, the Wozniak and the Shepard are being outfitted specially for fabrication and transportation duties, and the Polaris will serve in a science and medical support role.

 

This is a bold mission, one of the most ambitious large scale projects that Starfleet has ever undergone. We're certainly not going into this without risk; because once we're out there, we're cut off- no fleet support, no stopping in at starbase for repair or reassignment. We make due with what we have until we finish the job.

 

I don't want to order anyone to go on this mission. You've been asked to participate because you're some of the best we have. This is a unique challenge, and if you don't feel up to the assignment, I wouldn't think less of you. We can have you reassigned without reprimand or demerit. You have until 0700 tomorrow to make your decision."

 

"Does that go for me too?" the Chief joked.

 

The room chuckled.

 

Aznia responded, "I know you won't pass up an opportunity to make engineering history, Chief."

 

"At my age, I am engineering history, Captain."

 

Smiling, Aznia addressed the room one final time, "To those of you who are willing, the Shepard will be docked at airlock 4 tomorrow. Gather your belongings, and report there by 1000 tomorrow. Thank you." She turned to O'Brien as she walked toward the door, "And thank you Chief."

 

---

 

The convoy gathered near Beta Stromgren, the tiny supernova remnant neutron star pulsed and twisted as a far-orbiting structure remained anchored to it by a steady beam- a flow of gravitons tying the ring shaped catapult to its power source. Aznia stood in the Federalist's conference room, staring at the marvel of engineering from the window.

 

"It is... innovative technology." a familiar voice snuck up on the Captain.

 

Aznia turned around to see First of Eight, he chief Engineer standing across the room. "First, I didn't hear you come in."

 

"I did not mean to startle you, Captain." the liberated drone apologized, "I have reviewed the data on the graviton catapult, and I believe the technology is sound."

 

"To be honest, I wish I had the engineering expertise to understand it a bit better myself." Aznia confessed.

 

"The key is the neutron star." the Engineer explained, "The technology was derived from a schematic that the U.S.S. Voyager brought back from the Delta Quadrant several years ago. Until now, we've been unable to create a steady power source capable of generating the gravitons necessary to push a ship into subspace. Recently, the Starfleet Corps of Engineers realized that we could use a natural graviton generator to do that part of the work for us."

 

"So our top priority upon arrival at our landing site will be to locate a neutron star." Aznia acknowledged.

 

"That should be a relatively simple matter." The Borg confidently reported.

 

Aznia smirked, "In a vacuum, absolutely. But we both know that space is hardly a vacuum. We never know what's waiting for us out there."

 

The door to the conference room swooshed open again, Dr. Span and Commander Walesa walked in, taking a seat at the table. Aznia gestured for First of Eight to join them. After a moment Lt. Quallo entered the conference room, and took the last open seat on the near side of the table.

 

Aznia sat across from her senior staff. "I asked you here to talk about some reassignments for this mission. First of Eight, I want you to be my liaison to Chief O'Brien; help to coordinate resources and determine the needs of the engineering teams. Let me know what the Federalist can do to assist their efforts."

 

First of Eight nodded.

 

"Commander Walesa, I'm sure you've heard that Captain Boday has accepted promotion to Admiral, and is stepping down from command of the Revere, effective immediately."

 

"One of the finest commanding officers I've served under," Walesa acknowledged. "I couldn't be happier for him."

 

Aznia smiled, "Since you were Boday's first officer before transferring here, I was thinking that you'd be a prime candidate to assume command of the Revere for the duration of the mission."

 

Walesa was surprised, she straightened her posture and widened her eyes, "Yes, sir. I won't let you down."

 

"And that brings me to the unpleasant part. I hate to split up a family, but Span, I'd like you to report to the Polaris. I want you to coordinate all medical needs for the convoy." Aznia morosely ordered.

 

Walesa looked over to Span for a long moment. He did not immediately react.

 

The Vulcan medical officer finally acknowledged, "That is a logical course of action." he coldly acknowledged.

 

"We're still all in this together. I don't want you to think of this as parting ways. On the contrary, for this mission, we all need to be able to depend on each other more than ever." Aznia turned to the last officer at the table, smiling, "Quallo, old friend. I'd like you to take over as first officer aboard the Federalist. Dewoh can take over full time at Tactical."

 

"It will be an honor, sir." the Ferengi responded.

 

"Good. Quallo, First of Eight, you're dismissed. I'd like a status report by the end of your shift."

 

Both officers stood up, nodding to the captain before leaving the room.

 

As soon as the room vacated, Aznia returned attention to Walesa and Span. "I wanted to speak to you about Calvin. How is he doing?"

 

Walesa spoke first, "He is adjusting slowly. It's a shock for him to be surrounded by so many people. I was hoping he would be able to spend some time on Earth with my family during this mission, but I don't think he's ready to spend time away from us. For most of his life, we're all he's known.

 

"I completely understand." Aznia reassured, "I want you to know that I will do whatever I can to accommodate the situation, but I am going to suggest that Calvin stay with Span aboard the Polaris."

 

Span nodded, "I agree. As a science vessel, the Polaris will be least likely to encounter any immediate danger."

 

Walesa's heart was silently breaking at the prospect of being separated from her son, but she understood her duty. "I knew that when we came back aboard the Federalist with Calvin, there would be some difficulties." She grabbed Span's hand from the table, holding it tightly, "Let's all get to work."

 

---

 

The personnel transfers all processed, and a final check of all necessities passed. The convoy was ready for its flight. The Federalist, as head of the convoy, was slated to be the first ship to use the catapult.

 

"Coordinates are set," Helmsman En'thaas reported, "This ought to take us about 3,000 light years clear across the former Romulan Empire, into the depths of the Beta quadrant- to whatever new frontier lies beyond."

 

"What intel do we have of the region?"

 

Quallo responded, "Starfleet has collected intelligence from the Romulan Republic, the Flaxian Empire, and old El-Aurien star charts from the region. They've determined our landing area will be a relatively vacant area of the galaxy, given a wide berth between the farthest reaches of Borg controlled El-Aurien space and the beginnings Fen Domar space."

 

"Fen Domar?" Aznia probed.

 

"We have no first hand information on them." Science officer Atom chimed in. "All that we know is that they are technologically advanced, and are reportedly very unwelcoming to new arrivals."

 

"Understood." Aznia shook her head quickly, "Borg on one side, these Fen Domar on the other... Let's hope we've given them a wide enough berth indeed."

 

"The catapult is ready for us, Captain." Atom reported.

 

"Very well. Open a channel to the other ships."

 

"Channel is now open." Dewoh notified from the tactical station.

 

Aznia stood up to make her final address before the historic flight, she winced at the thought of being quoted enigmatically in the face of a new era in interstellar travel, but she tried her best to be inspirational just the same. "At a moment like this, the galaxy becomes a little bit smaller; but the spirit of exploration grows a great deal larger. Like the giants whose shoulders we stand upon, we must now go boldly where none have gone before.

 

Mr. En'thaas, engage."

 

The Federalist flew toward the graviton catapult, which charged to life, aglow with striating energy fields that reached out to envelop the tiny approaching ship. The energy visibly built up more and more as the ship approached the device until all at once a massive pulse of energy whisked the Federalist away into the unknown.

 

The crew of the Revere waited nervously for word of the Federalist's successful flight. It felt like the longest ninety minutes of Commander Walesa's life. The crew all waited in silence until finally the communications officer reported in, "We're getting a subspace communique."

 

"On screen!" Walesa ordered.

 

Aznia smiled on the view screen, the signal crackling from the extreme long range. "3,103 light years in a little less than 90 minutes. I think that's a record."

 

"Are the conditions clear on your end, Captain?" Walesa inquired.

 

Aznia responded, "No ships on sensors, we've already detected three nearby candidates for acceptable staging areas."

 

Walesa breathed a sigh of relief, "Sounds like it couldn't be going more smoothly."

 

"I've got a bottle of Bolian Champaign on ice, let's wait until everyone's here before we open it." Aznia challenged.

 

"Understood. I'm going to send the DaVinci, the Shepard and the Wozniak through next. Then I'll bring the Revere through. We'll send the Polaris through last." Walesa coordinated.

 

"No arguments from me." Aznia offered, "See you on the other side."

 

The communication ended, returning Walesa to the task at hand. "Open a channel to the DaVinci." she ordered.

 

O'Brien appeared on the view screen, "Have we got the green light?" The engineer anxiously inquired.

 

"At your leisure, sir."

 

"Don't call me sir, I work for a living." O'Brien joked. "Good luck, Captain!"

 

One by one, the DaVinci, the Shepard and the Wozniak disappeared into the energy field generated by the catapult. Waiting ninety minutes between trips for the next go ahead. Finally, the Revere and the Polaris were the only ships remaining.

 

"Open a channel to the Polaris." Walesa ordered.

 

On the bridge of the Polaris, Span stood at the first officer's position beside Captain Tala, an Andorian woman who she remembered an old acquaintance of Captain Deet.

 

"Captain Tala, I suppose we're next, eh?"

 

"Indeed, Commander. Good luck!" the Andorian responded.

 

"Elsie." Span interjected, "We will see you in a few hours." he nodded reassuringly.

 

Commander Walesa smiled. She turned to the helmsman, "Take us in, Lieutenant."

 

The Revere approached the building energy field as the catapult spooled up power. Just as the last swirls of energy engulfed the ship, sensors detected something unusual.

 

"Captain, I'm detecting a ship decloaking!" the Tactical officer exclaimed.

 

"What?!" Walesa stood up, "Abort the launch!"

 

"It's too late, we've entered subspace." The conn officer explained.

 

"We have to go back!" Walesa ordered.

 

"We can't reenter normal space at this speed, Captain. It would tear the ship apart! We have to ride this out."

 

Aboard the Polaris, Captain Tala and Doctor Span watched as a Romulan Warbird decloaked, all weapons locked squarely on them. The lone science vessel was no match for the massive Romulan battleship.

 

"They're hailing, Captain." The comm officer reported.

 

Tala stepped up toward the view screen, "On screen."

 

"I am Subcommander Eivek of Tal Shiar Warship Rakal, I hereby claim this system in the name of the Romulan Star Empire. Surrender now, and I will guarantee your crew's safety."

 

"You have no claim on this system, the Romulan Star Empire is no more!" Tala demanded. "The New Romulan Republic has signed a peace accord which ceded this system to the Federation."

 

The Romulan officer scoffed, "We do not recognize their authority. Surrender or be destroyed."

 

Outmatched, Tala turned to Span the communication muted momentarily. "How did they know we were here? Their timing is awfully convenient! Do you have any Recommendations?"

 

"I suggest we probe for information and continue to stall. We must try to find a way to communicate this situation to Starfleet, so that reenforcements can secure the system before the Tal Shiar does."

 

"Tala to Eivek," the screen reactivated, "We will surrender and retreat from the system. If you stand down, we will leave."

 

"Unacceptable, Captain. We can not allow you to leave, giving you an opportunity to return with friends. You will stand down, and your crew will be beamed aboard our vessel as... esteemed guests of the Tal Shiar. After a short stay, we will arrange to have you returned home."

 

"We're going to need time to consider our response."

 

The Romulan smiled widely, "I will be gracious, Captain. You have one hour." The communication terminated.

 

Tala scanned around the bridge at a dozen ponderous faces, "Options?" she requested.

 

"We need to try to escape, Captain." The helmsman panicked. "I think we can make a run for it!"

 

"I would calculate our odds of escaping before being destroyed at less than 22%." Span informed.

 

Tala shook her head, "I don't like those odds."

 

"If we could just signal one or two ships for reenforcement, that Warbird would be no match for us!" the Tactical officer lamented.

 

Tala turned to face the officer, "Impossible. Any transmission would be detected immediately. There's no way to bring in any support."

 

Span's attention piqued, "If we can not call our allies to aid us, what if we brought the fight to our allies?"

 

"What are you talking about, Span?" Tala asked.

 

Span turned to the tactical officer, "Is the graviton catapult ready for another launch?"

 

"I believe so, sir."

 

Span explained as he walked to the science station, manually adjusting the ship's tractor beam system. "With a slight modification, our tractor beam can be used to repulse the Romulan ship. If we hit it with one sharp well-timed burst, we can push their ship into the catapult. They will be sent through subspace where they will rendezvous with our convoy."

 

"Span, that's crazy. Even if it worked, we'd be putting the entire convoy at risk." Tala was skeptical.

 

"A Warbird would be no match for the combined threat from the Federalist and the Revere, Captain. The Romulans will be forced to stand down."

 

"And if they don't, we could risk stranding five ships- over 1000 officers- along with an aggressive enemy, three years from home."

 

"The alternative is to allow the catapult to fall into Tal Shiar hands."

 

Tala thought about the situation for a long moment. "Very well, Mr. Span. Make your preparations. I'm going to hail Eivek and inform him that we're ready to surrender. When I order you to drop our shields, that will be your queue to engage."

 

"Understood."

 

Tala turned the comm officer, "Open a channel."

 

The Romulan appeared on the screen again.

 

"We're prepared to surrender, Eivek." Tala lamented. "Mr. Span, lower our shields."

 

The screen cut out abruptly as the Polaris emitted a repulsor that shoved the Romulan ship toward the catapult. The Romulan Warbird turned sharply against the push, firing a barrage of disruptor beams and plasma torpedoes at the Polaris. The weapons fire ripped through the Polaris' shields with ease, inflicting damage on the small science vessel and terminating the repulsor beam.

 

"Repulsor beam offline, captain!" Span informed.

 

"I hope that's enough!" Tala shouted, struggling to direct resources to maintaining hull integrity.

 

Aboard the Romulan ship, Eivek found himself irritated by the Polaris' attack. He shouted, "Open a channel!"

 

Tala appeared on the Romulan view screen.

 

"I offered you your lives, and you spit in my face. Federation treachery!" He turned to an officer on his bridge, "Come about. Destroy them."

 

"Subcommander!" The Romulan officer cried out, "The helm is not responding!"

 

"What!?" Eivek yelled.

 

The officer explained, "The catapult... we're being pulled into the graviton field!"

 

"Target all weapons on the catapult! Terminate the..." the transmission cut out abruptly as the Romulan ship disappeared into subspace.

 

Tala breathed a long sigh of relief, quickly regaining her composure. "Inform Starfleet of the situation. Have them send reinforcements immediately. Then send a high priority subspace communique to the Federalist. As soon as the transmissions have been sent, take us into the catapult."

 

"Captain, is it wise to pursue so quickly?" Span inquired.

 

Tala shook her head. "Probably not. But we just shipped our problem off to our friends. I'll be damned if I'm going leave them to fend for themselves."

 

"Transmissions have been sent." The comm officer reported.

 

"Span, are we good?" Tala asked for reassurance.

 

Span nodded silently.

 

"Then take us in."

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