"Rise And Shine"
NRPG: takes place just after the return of the Away Team, but before the confrontation with Weyoun and the ensuing battle.
"Rise And Shine"
Lt. Maxwell Shinta
Assistant Chief Counselor
Commander Karyn Dallas RN
Chief Counselor/Nurse
USS Galaxy
***The Maxwell quarters, USS Galaxy***
Shinta awoke, she felt very groggy and then it came back to her, Michala had slipped her something, how could she have done that? She started to get out of bed, every minute counted. Everybody thought that Bruce was dead, it was up to her to find him.
Karyn heard the rustling of the covers from the bedroom, while she played with Gavin and held Hope. She loved the tiny infant, feeling particularly close to her because like Karyn, she had been born prematurely and had some lingering health concerns. Holding Hope reignited Karyn's desire for a family of her own someday, but hearing Shinta rummage around the room for her clothes reminded her of her responsibilities here and the fact that she was married to her career. She had over a thousand people aboard who needed her, could she make room for a husband and a family? More importantly, was she willing to give up what she loved here to become 'domestic'? These weren't the kind of questions that were going to be answered today or next week, so as usual, she shrugged her thoughts away to be replaced by thoughts of duty.
She, with Gavin's assistance, placed Hope back in her crib for the moment while she checked on Shinta. She told Gavin to come get her if he needed help with anything, but to stay there while she talked to his Mom in private for a bit.
Entering the master bedroom, Karyn was just in time to see Shinta swing her legs over the bed. "Good, you're awake. How about some tea?"
Shinta was not very pleased to see her boss there, if only Karyn would not try to stop her, or try to take away her work. The best thing to do now was to act casual, normal, and hope she did not notice. "Hi Karyn. What are you doing here? Should you be working?"
Karyn smiled, recognizing the evasion. There was no chance. Karyn was concerned about Shinta and Shinta knew it. "Who says I'm not working? Michala asked me to come by and see you. She said you got this crazy idea you were going to go find Bruce in Borg infested space. I really didn't believe her because the Shinta I know wouldn't leave her children all by themselves at a time like this. Anyway, when the Romulan survivors started beaming aboard, she was called to sickbay, so here I am, trying to explain to Gavin why you had to be sedated. What should I tell him, Shinta?"
"Karyn, stop this!" She knew what her boss was doing, and it was working, and she did not like it. "Stop being so reasonable, stop making me see what a fool I have been. I was just so tired, I miss him so much. You all kept telling me that he is not dead, but nobody is looking for him. Somebody has to do something, Karyn. What if he is alive, what if he needs help?" She began to cry.
Karyn moved over to Shinta and placed both hands on the distraught woman's shoulders. "None of us were going to let you think Bruce was really dead, Shinta. Honestly, I don't know where he is, or if he is alive, but the lack of proof either way doesn't sit well with me. By the same token, if Bruce is out there trying to get home to you, do you think he'd be pleased to know that you're wondering aimlessly through a combat zone while your children...your son wonders if you're alive or dead just like his step-father? I hate to play the duty card because I know you're scared, but you have responsibilities here. You know Bruce, trust that if there's a way for him to come home, he will. Tell you what, when we're finished here, if he's still not back, you and I will go to that school and start giving them hell. We'll look for him ourselves when we get leave. In the meantime, I can help you get in touch with them to see if any progress has been made in the search. We all need to be strong here, Counselor," said Karyn in her all business tone, "Officers, enlisted crew and civillians alike are scared witless here, and we have to keep a lid on it."
Shinta stopped crying and came to her senses. "Would you do that for me? Would you really help me? Is Gavin very distressed? I did not think. I have been neglecting them the last couple of days. What is going on? I have not really been paying attention to ship's business lately." She smiled apologetically. "Where do you need me to help?" She tried very hard to look professional.
Karyn smiled. *Sometimes guilt was a beautiful thing.* "Of course I would help you. I'm your friend and I care about you." Karyn shook her head, Shinta was so used to doing things alone, she'd forgotten how to lean on others. "Gavin is really worried about you. He doesn't understand what you're going through, and he is sad he can't help you. As for ship's business, we've just rescued a ship full of Romulans from the Borg. It seems a Borg cube was destroyed by about one hundred Dominion ships and the Romulans were caught in the middle somehow. Some of the Romulans were killed during the Borg's attempts to assimilate them, but for some reason, they couldn't complete assimilation. It looks like we may have to engage the Dominion to keep the remains of the cube out of their hands. SFC doesn't want the Dominion getting an edge on the Borg and possiby our new technology. I-"
She was interrupted by the Red Alert klaxon before she could say more. Diplomacy must have failed. *Big surprise.* Over the obnoxious wail, Karyn yelled, "Get Emma down here to stay with the kids. You need to head to sickbay, I'll keep you posted. I'll be on the Bridge."
"I will do that, boss." Shinta was moving as well. She knew what she had to do, others would have to search for Bruce for now. But she would not forget him, and as soon as was possible she was going to look for him, but not alone.
Giving Shinta a reassuring smile she did not truly feel, Karyn did an about face and sped to the nearest turbolift.
=====
Commander Karyn Dallas RN
Chief Counselor/Nurse
USS Galaxy
"The Hardest Thing I Ever Have To Do"
By Lt. Rose Isis MacAllen, Science Officer
With one of her Best Friends,Lt. Lexana Ral, Security Officer
**Science Lab**
Rose sit in her office with one of her best friends Lt Lexana Ral talking about what Rose should do with her boyfriend, the new Chief Helmsman while drinking some tea together.
"I think you deserve better Rose, he just is not a romantic type and you need one in your life." Lexana told her with a smile, but she is also alittle sad for her friend.
"I know, I thinking about just me and Ragnald just be good friends he act more like a brother to me then a lover. I just don't want to have a loveless affair like my parents had."
Lexana looks at Rose, "You need to tell him write him a letter or something."
Rose turn on her computer and start typing a message:
Ragnald,
I been thinking, I think we only need to be very good friends your more like a brother to me then a lover please forgive me but I don't think our gods really want us to be together but I will always be your friend no matter what happens."
Love your friend
Lt Rose Isis MacAllen
"Computer send message." Rose told her with some tears in her eyes, this was the hardest thing she ever have to do in her life.
Lexana walked over and hugs her friend letting her know everything will be alright.
“Starting a Fresh”
Ensign Heather Grant-Wellington USS Galaxy
and NPC: Science Officer Ensign Marina Williamson
Staring out of the windows of Ten Forward, she thought of nothing as a glass of water pondered in the grasp of her feminine hand. So far, her new roster had proven exhausting. The Alpha shift was filled with group counselling and her Gamma Shift was spent learning the feel of the Galaxy’s helm. In the middest of this hectic timetable, Heather had attended the slumber party in holodeck 1. Boy, had that being an experience, she grinned to herself. In the corner of her eye, she could see Marina, the science officer who had first mentioned the vacant Flight Control position to her, approaching.
“May sit here?”
“Sure.”
Marina sat down and gazed out of the windows also, looking at the debris field they had arrived at. “Congratulations on your transfer.” Spoke up Marina.
Heather glanced sleeply at her new acquaintance. “Thanks. It’s being no holiday though.”
Marina smiled back. “I heard you’re still doing your counselling shift?”
“Insain, I know. But I didn’t spend eight years becoming a counsellor to throw it all away for a career solely based in flight control.”
“So, did you go to the slumber party?” asked Marina.
Heather shook her head in an expression of disappointment, while trying to disguise a bemused grin. “Luckily you didn’t go. You didn’t exactly miss much. There was a pillow fight, a few films and someone summoned the men. The pillow fight would have to have been the must interesting moment, particularly when the Vulcan wacked another young officer. And after three hours, I still don’t know their names.”
“Sounds thrilling.”
Heather took a gulp of her drink and nodded her head in agreement. “I’m no horror genre fan, that’s for sure. I was hoping for at least one film to be something like a thriller, action or may be even a sickening romance. And what some of the girls were wearing….” Changing to a slight disgused tone.
“So, what did you end up wearing?”
“My flannels.”
The two girls laughed.
Marina was unable to attend the party due to being on duty at the time. Since Heather gained her helmsmenship, the two were now sharing residential quarters on Deck 3, and were quickly becoming friends. Marina was single with a dead sexual drive, while Heather on the other hand was still coming to terms with being a widow.
“How’s flight control?” Marina questioned, a little sorrowfully.
Heather looked sympathetic, knowing she had stamped over Marina’s intentions of a full career change.
“Well, I had little chance to warm the seat. Just when I started to get used to the controls, we got the call and I was replaced. I hope that eventually I’ll get the chance to stay on the bridge long enough to flank this girl. Basically, all I’ve done is to get my piloting blood boiling again.”
Marina raised an eyebrow. “So where have you being then?”
“Preparing my group counselling sessions. I’m working with the children later in preparation for what we might be heading into. We have some really great kids on board. Though, dealing with the civilian partners of the crew is another story.” She wiped her face in distress. “Let me just say, the youngsters are easier to reassure than some of the civilians.” Marina giggled.
“That bad?”
“They’re a bunch of shockers.”
A steward stepped up to their table and offered to order Marina a drink. Marina took a moment to consider what she wanted, then quietly ordered a pineapple and coconut crush. Heather returned her gaze to what layed forward of the mighty starship. When the steward departed, Heather sighed.
“Do you think the Borg are still around here?”
“Possibly. It would be handy if one functioning Borg vessel was still in the vacinity, so that the new anti-Borg tech we got from Voyager could be tested out.”
Heather looked back at the scientist. “Talk about convinent timing. Makes me wonder if Starfleet would of sent us here if Voyager hadn’t return.” Marina frowned. She realised almost instantly that the new flight controller had a valid point. Would they be sitting here facing a debris field of Dominion ships with the threat of Borg close by? Heather raised an amused eyebrow when she noted Marina falling into deep consideration of her remark. It too had her thinking of the possibility.
"On Patrol"
By Ensign Michael McCarthy, Security Officer
*** Main Sickbay ***
Michael has been assigned to guard duty in sickbay.Michael wasn't the best with blood and this wasn't helping either.The wounds some of the Romulans had couldn't even be described they were so bad. Michael always had respect for medical officers as they deal with pressure situations extremely well.He knew that if he was in control of someones life, what stood between living and dying he would crack. Sickbay looked like it was hit by a bomb.Bodies everywhere, people running around shouting." Someone help this person he is badly hurt" shouted a Romulan.He was demanding immediate attention.Michael made his way over to him."Sorry could you please just wait, someone will see to him when they are finished saving the lifes of people who are worse off"
"Look at him he is hurt, don't you Starfleet officers have any compassion?" "Wait a minute" Michael was getting frustrated."See that officer over there... he is losing a serious amount of blood and if he isn't seen to soon could die, see your friend here, he has got maybe a broken leg and a couple of scratches, you make out for yourself who is worse off"He then walked away.
Michael was very impressed with the way the Chief Medical Officer handled everything, keeping cool and acessing all available options, clear signs of a good officer.In fact all the Medical staff seemed to be handling it well, no-one seemed to be cracking.He had a relativily quite day with no major incident's, well nothing to report anyway.
"And Death Shall Be Wearing a Kilt!"
by Lt.Bruce Maxwell
Coming Home Soon
Bruce bursted out into the hallway, blasting the wounded Cardassian into death. fire blasts flies at him as he dodges and runs down the corridor blasting all those armed or unarmed that shows up. He quickly ducks into a room, out of breathe and sweating. His wounds catching up to him, he begins to cough up blood. Bruce walks over to a display panel and tries to access the schematics of the ship.
The display began to show the layout as bruce tried his best the pain began to cloud his mind. He saw he was on a Hideki Class ship and began to wonder why a patrol ship was around here and attacking shuttle craft. He pulled up a roster and only got the compliment of 35 crewmembers before it cut out. He began to suck up the pain and forcing it under. He began to count how many he killed. He beleived 12-15 so far, that still left the bulk of the crew. He beleived it to be engineering and bridge crew now. He went to the door and started out by slipping down the wall. Bruce slowly made his way to a access tunnel and scurries thru it.
"I got to get ou, I got to get back to Shinta and the kids." Bruce mumbled to himself until he saw where he wanted to go. He quickly and quietly crawled out and saw the engineering room. He saw about ten men here and started to plan. He realized this was going to be real risky. He needed to create a problem on the ship to distract them. He knew this was all or nothing he began to over charge one of his disruptors and prepared to throw it into the main control of the engineering. He knew he had to throw it just in the right area or the warp core would go up with it. Bruce then jumped out and began to blast away at the surprised engineers. He was commiting mass murder, but it was what he was trained to do, he saw it was time he threw the disruptor and dove for the access tunnel and began to move.
*******Shuttle Bay********
The Bajoran girl sat huddled in the stripped down federation shuttle. She jumped at everysingle noise she heard. She finally got skiddish and snuck out into the corridor. She began to walk as usual watching the others run by her. They didnt know she realized. She headed for her masters quarters. She was going to try and help the man that showed he actually cared.
******Access Tunnel********
Bruce was moving as fast as he could. He then was thrown from side to side as the disruptor blew. He recovered himself and shook the bumps off. He heard the klaxon blare. His wounds attacking at him again with daggers of pain. He knew he had to get to the bridge now and finish this. But how much time. He had one disruptor left with a quarter of a charge. He began to move and climb. He noticed the sounds of men running towards engineering. He smiled evily. "They are all dead." Bruce whispered. He then crawled out into the corridor and shot two unsuspecting Cardassians. He saw his disruptor is out of energy. He searched the bodies nothing. He pulled the pain stick from his waistband and stood at the door ready to enter and meet his death, he steps forward and the door opens.........
*******Personal Quarters********
The bajoran girl walks thru the door and a familiar voice rings out. "I knew you would return. If we are going to die then so are you two. He held up a disruptor and made her sit down. "He only has an hour to find and save you, before we all die." The doors shut with the laughter of the demented cardassian filling the halls.
Time: Stardate 50106.31
***USS Akagi, Bridge, 11:00 hours***
Engineering staff worked hard and furiously at their repair jobs on the bridge. During the last fight, the Akagi took some heavy damage to the saucer section that crippled it's main phaser banks and nearly blew out the entire bridge crew into open space. To top it off, engineers from less damaged ships had to come in to repair the wounded beast that was the Akagi.
The Caitan Captain, Ar'tann, was just happy to live for awhile longer. After the battle, it has been either repair after repair or nothing happening at all. The lull in activity annoyed him greatly, since he felt that the fleet should be doing something... ANYTHING... other than sitting behind the rest of the fleet and licking it's wounds. That would have to wait, because the Akagi took the brunt of the Borg assault and protected the smaller ships from the crippling blows that would have turned a Steamrunner into a fireball but instead made the Akagi look like a battle scarred warbarge. The kind of wound that she had didn't allow for the Akagi to do much. That... and the Akagi was also responsible for a great portion of the wounded.
And what if she faced the Borg? The Akagi is an Ambassador class battleship, which meant she couldn't do much anyways because like the Galaxy, it was slow and cumbersome to fly and fight in. She was the second biggest ship in the fleet, and she was responsible for many of the wounded as well as a moving shield for the other ships. To have the Akagi go hunting would be foolish.
And that was why Captain Ar'tann was frustrated.
"Give me any ship but this one..." He groaned.
"Sir," said an officer from the engineering console, "We have full power back online again, and we have fully repaired the warp engines. However... we have restored all main phasers except that we cannot restore second main phaser on the saucer section. The Borg blew a chunk off the phaser strip."
"Acknowledged, Lieutenant." Ar'tann responded, "Concentrate on repairs to our shield generators. They took the worst of it."
"Aye sir!" The lieutenant obeyed, turning back to his workstation and relaying the commands back to engineering.
The engineer buzzed around the peeved captain, repairing consoles that he swears blows up from the slightest feedback and replacing burned out wiring. Out of all the times that the Akagi went into battle, this was not the worse damage that this ship has faced. However, it was the worse situation to be left repairing main systems. He didn't like the idea of having their pants down while the Dominion and the Borg were right beside them hours earlier.
"Sir, incoming message from the Merrimac." The operations officer relayed urgently.
"On screen." Captain Ar'tann ordered.
The ops officer patched through the message, showing the mussed up face of Captain Reinhart, his once confident demeanor now replaced by worry and fatigue. All around the Merrimac's bridge there was signs of blown up panels and collaped bulkheads everywhere. The ship was in a rough shape like the Akagi, and this from a Captain who knew how to fight with his ship.
"How may I help you, Captain Reinhart?" Ar'tann politely asked.
"Nothing much, Ar'tann. We're just trying to find out the status of the other ships" Captain Reinhart spoke wearily, "So far, almost everyone got an ass kicking."
"Almost?" Ar'tann raised his eyebrow and sat up on his chair.
"Haven't you heard? The Galaxy's in great shape. Thanks to that new shielding technology that she aquired, she only took minor damage." Reinhart said, astonished.
"Would have been nice to have that. Then my ship wouldn't have been what you humans call a ‘whipping boy'." Ar-tann snorted, "How's your ship?"
"We're still fighting trim, but our ghosting array took a bad hit." He said with a hint of regret, "If that didn't happen, the Caladon would have lived. I could have saved her, you know."
Ar'tann knew well the on and off relationship between Captain Reinhart and Captain Gonzalez. They were once married, and Ar'tann was the best man at their wedding. Afterwards, the service made them drift apart and they divorced 10 years ago. Ever since, they kept in touch, even during the war. There was even talk that they would get back together.
"Don't beat yourself up over this. We need you out there." Ar'tann re-assured his friend.
"Forget it. I tried and I failed. That's what matters. Now about your ship's status?" Captain Reinhart countered bitterly.
"We have most of our main weapons online, but aft torpedo launchers won't work, most of the shield generators are shot and we can only get about thirty percent before we are left defenceless. You?"
"We're fighting trim, so's the Resolute, and the Lakota got the last of it's quantum torpedo launchers up and running again. The rest of the fleet isn't so lucky. The Monitor has no inertial dampners and she doesn't even have thrusters to move around in, and with over fifty percent casualties repairs on that ship are going very slow. The ShirKahr's having inertial dampner problems, but that should be repaired by the time we speak. The Crazy Horse and the Wakizashi have no weapons and shields to speak of, so all they can do is bug out of the sector before the Borg get their hands on us again."
"Guess we're lucky."
"I guess we are. By the way, can you spare anybody from your ship to the Monitor? She's seriously understaffed and Captain Pearce was killed during the last attack, so the ship's command structure is a mess. Commander Jonas can barely keep the crew together."
"I'll see what I can do."
"Thanks. I appreciate that. Oh... before I forget, the Ironclad and the Bow River will be arriving in a few minutes. Monitor out."
Captain Ar'tann breathed a sigh of relief. ~~"Finally, some backup"~~ he thought. With the fleet being in such rough shape, it was nice to have some fresh re-enforcements.
"Sir," The tactical officer cut his thinking short, "Long range sensors detecting two ships, the Bow River and the Ironclad."
"Good,"Ar'tann responded in a cat like purr, "Let's have the Galaxy take care of the welcoming committee. We have enough troubles as is..."
***USS Resolute***
On the other side of the fleet, the Resolute stood vigil over the rest of the wounded ships. She wasn't so badly damaged, just some shield damage and a few wasted quantum torpedos, but otherwise fine. Captain Cartel was proud of how well his ship and crew performed against the Dominion salvage fleet and the surprise visit from the Borg. The Resolute was able to weave and dodge it's way around the tractor beams and plasma torpedo's that wreaked havoc on the rest of the fleet.
There were two things that bothered him was the destruction of the USS Regina. Out of all the casualties in the fleet, the Regina hit everyone the hardest. The ship was caught in the middle of the Borg fleet, and while the Resolute was assaulting the cube that grabbed her, the Regina was surrounded and destroyed. It was caught in the tug of war between the Borg ships. It almost felt like the destruction of the Regina was worthless.
When Captain Cartel thought of worthless, he thought of the second thing that bothered him, whole mission in general and how it got started. It was supposed to keep Borg technology away from The Dominion, and now because of this four ships were destroyed with all hands on board, while the Resolute could do nothing to stop the onslaught. To add to his annoyance, he read the Voyager files to find out what he could about the Borg, only to find out that Voyager and a future Admiral Janeway were probably the reason why the Borg were acting so strangely.
~~"Was it worth it?~~ He mulled over, ~~"Was it worth trading almost two thousand starfleet officers and four ships over technology that we now made obsolete? What was the point in even coming here? What the hell was Admiral Douglas thinking?"~~
The whole mission disgusted him as a whole. He didn't know why he, his ship and the whole fleet were doing here getting their asses kicked so that the enemy couldn't have some technology that they outpace anyways. In his mind, it made the presence of starfleet out her a waste of time and valuable lives, especially after so many were lost in the war.
~~"That's it. After this mission... I quit."~~ He thought, ~~"I'll tell Admiral Douglas to take him and his Starfleet hypocracy and shove it up his ass! I came here to explore and defend the ideals of Starfleet, not contradict them."~~
His decision was final. He was so sick of doing the exact opposite of what Starfleet was supposed to do. He had to put his ship in a lot of danger to keep technology away from the Dominion and take on the Borg that wasn't as crippled as Voyager reported, but instead angry like hornets after having Voyager rattle their nest. Worse, Starfleet hasn't condemned the future technology that he felt they shouldn't be having right now, according to the Prime Directive. He was sick of working for hypocrites, so his decision was going to stick.
"Commander, you have the bridge. I have something that I have to do right now." Captain Cartel ordered.
~~BEEP BEEP, BEEP BEEP~~ a tactical console chirped shrilly. The whole bridge crew turned to the tactical officer to find out what was going on. The tactical officer, and young and inexp
erienced ensign, looked at his console in shock.
"SIR! TRANSWARP CONDUITS! They're right in front of us!" The tactical officer screamed. "Red alert." Captain Cartel commanded gruffly. The lights dimmed and the red alert lights flashed as the klaxons rang, "Raise shields, power phasers, and load all quantum torpedo tubes."
"Shields up... phasers's locked on to transwarp conduits and quantum torpedo's armed and ready sir. The rest of the fleet is doing the same." Tactical relayed.
"Put the transwarp conduits on screen."
"Aye sir."
The Captain of the Resolute saw as half a dozen Borg cubes and spheres spilled out of half a dozen gaping holes in space. As a half dozen more spilled out and headed towards the Dominion fleet, three spheres surrounded the Monitor, whom was still crippled. Each ship latched on to the little Steamrunner and pulled it their way, all while they assaulted each other with plasma torpedo bursts and cutting beams. The Monitor couldn't take the strain of three tractor beams tugging on it's hull, and the engineering section exploded and scattered parts of the ship. The warp core explosion was bright and intense.
"Sir, they just waxed the Monitor!" The young tactical officer announced.
"I can see that, ensign. Let's move in and fire on my command. We'll keep the Borg off the weaker ships and hopefully keep them away from the Galaxy and Akagi..."
The tactical officer was interrupted by a message from the Galaxy itself. He cut off the Captain to relay the orders.
"Sir, Captain Price is telling the fleet to bug out of here and head to the wormhole at our fastest warp."
"Well, considering that the Borg already out number us ship for ship, it's the first decision Price has made that I agree with. Set a course to the wormhole, maximum warp. Tell the Ironclad and the Bow River that they'll have some company..."
***Task Force ‘Linebacker'***
As the Galaxy raised it's armor and charged it's first multi-phasic torpedo, the rest of the fleet pulled out bit by bit. Some of the ships were able to make it. The Akagi, ShirKahr, Crazy Horse and Resolute were the first to pull out, the flashes of the warp accelerations shining in the stars. Next was the Lakota. It launched one last quantum torpedo that managed to cripple a Borg sphere, then turned around and warped out of the battleground. The Wakizashi turned to flee. Instead of facing an exit, it turned around to face another transwarp conduit that spit out a cube. The ship swerved to avoid the oncoming cube, but it couldn't turn on time. It smashed into the cube's side and exploded in a fiery haze.
The last to pull out was the USS Merrimac. It spun and dodged out of the crossfire, and warped out as soon as the Galaxy blew the Merrimac's opponents into scrap.
To be continued...
It was black when she walked in. Black and silent, calm... there was a touch of forbodding hidden in the shadows, but perhaps it was just the tired part of her mind.
"Computer, play Wren Twentieth Century Music Selections, shuffle mode," she said, her voice heavy.
'Posession' by Sarah McLachlan began to play.
"Computer, skip," Wren said soflty, "something uplifing." The computer clicked and presented Frank Sinatra, 'Luck be a Lady,' and Wren smirked slightly as she pulled off her shoes and threw them at the closet, where they hit the door and fell onto the floor with a very loud thud. She pulled the elastic band from the end of her braid and slowly began to undo the knots her hair was woven into. It fell over her shoulders and she began to unzip her uniform.
She saw the almost tempting shadow in its place as she changed.
Her bed was one of those barren places that was always thought of and never actually visited: like Suberbia, or the tropical rain forrest, or that mysterious neighbour's house. It sat there in her quarters, a black hole fitted with the black silk sheets her mother had given her with the grey comforter over them, the ends folded back perfectly. Her mother instilled the idea of cleanliness, said that presentation was the most important thing a person could have. Presentation gained respect and respect gained friends and friends gained power and... it all boiled down to power with that woman.
Wren stared at it as she sat in her chair as she pulled on her canvas work-out shoes: light weight, easy to move, easy to lift. She stood again, pulled her hair into a topknot and moved out of her quarters, wrapping her fists in black tape.
The punching bag was not as much help as it used to be. It seemed she had been spoiled by the holodeck and the life-like scenarios they created. Her imagination was rusty and it was difficult to see the red bag hanging from the ceiling as an enemy of any kind, much less the Klingons, Cardassians, and otherwise she had become accustom to beating over the course of her holodeck experiences.
She kicked it harshly, and it went sailing on its chain. But she forgot about the fallback until it was too late and the large object assailed her, knocking into her and throwing her to the deck of the exercise arena with a muffled "oh bugger" from the tall, thin ensign. And there she lay, breathing heavily, staring up at the bulkheads of the ceiling.
They made it back from the Romulan ship just a bit before, and after a briefing she was barely involved in, except to express the fact the Borg seemed to be communicating to one another (and this without the collective thought), she was dismissed to her "duties" which, since it was not yet Delta shift, consisted of whatever her little heart desired.
She was beginning to think the deck was actually quite comfortable as she began to pull the black boxing wrap from her fists, while she was still on her back. It was really an odd position for her. When she did fall, it was usually on her face, or if she was lucky, on her knees (as painful as it was).
As far as she knew, what through the rumor mill she over head in the corridors and the ship status reports she managed to glimpse, Captain Price was in the middle of negotiations with the Founders' flag ship for a Borg cube which the Galaxy was to destroy... of course, that could be the near opposite of what was truly happening, Wren really had no real idea.
She wiped the sweat and hair from her face, crossed her ankles and sighed, feeling her lower back relaxing onto the mats of the floor-- it almost hurt, she had not relaxed for a while. The athletic work-out area smelled like sweat and locker rooms, and was filled with the sounds of workout equipment and the people using them: all sorts of people from all different cultures. Bodily pride was universal.
Or maybe it was just the need to expend energy.
Her father said she would love flying but would hate being on a Starship. She never really understood what he meant, the two seemed to go hand-in-hand pretty well. He said she would understand when she got there, and as she lay there on the floor and thought about it... he said she was too full of energy, that she threw herself too far into everything she did and it was not entirely healthy, and it would make the slow times difficult. It would make the real times of the starship life difficult. He said it always did for him.
She closed her eyes, covered her face with her hands and sighed deeply, smelling the sweat combined with the adhesive from the tape that had been around her fists, now balled at her side on the deck.
"You okay, lass?" a man's voice asked. "You've been laying there for a while."
"Do not call me lass, I hate that," she mumbled, her voice muffled by her hands, "and I am fine, just leave me alone."
Her sixth sense could feel him crouch down at her side.
"You took a pretty bad tumble there," his brood stated.
"Not really, I have taken worse... please leave me alone."
"Then why haven't you gotten up yet?"
"I have not felt like it," she stated solidly. "Please, whomever you are, leave me alone."
"Could I see your face?"
"No."
He sighed softly, and she heard him stand.
She could feel the ship moving into a maneuver... she could not quite get a handle on which one, not from that position and certainly not with the size of the ship-- on the Bryce she could within a few seconds, but here...
Hum…
Suddenly, she was very glad she was already on the deck as the red alert sirens sounded and the ship trembled. Others in the exercise area, those who were not prepared, were thrown to her level. She heard him, the Scotsman, grunt as he fell to one knee before steadying himself and standing, centering his weight.
Wren rolled from her back to her stomach, and jumped to her feet, making it to the window.
"Oh God," she whispered, watching the ships and the fury outside.
There was suddenly and rumbling and the armour plating came folding up over the ship with a gentle tremble. She jerked away from the window, her eyes wide-- she had never seen this before. "Good God, what is happening?" she questioned softly to herself. She glanced back into the room where most of the people were scurying out toward quarters or positions, toward family members or containment "safe" areas. Even the Scottish gentlemen was hurrying out, God knew where.
"Doesn't anyone see what we are becoming? We will end up just like them."
***USS Galaxy, 2374***
Pain. Emotional, physical, gut and mind-wrenching pain. The flood of memories long buried under multiple layers of defenses, so cross-stitched across the expanse of James' mind began unravelling as a ball of yarn would from a kitten.
Twisting and turning in his bed, James couldn't wake from his nightmare. The sleeping aids he took kept his body relaxed even as his mind was sharp with the resonance of memory, each one as it surfaces, grasping another one by its edge and pulling it to the fore.
The dreams of his experiences in the Bajoran labour camps, the legless benefactor, Gul Tarak, the daily beatings.... James was only a teenager at the time; he had returned to Bajor as part of a liberation sect in retaliation for all that he lost. The raiding party he had been a part of was decimated as they had tried to blow up a munitions dump, which he had escaped, only to be captured hours later in an alleyway.
It seemed to rain for an eternity, or maybe it was the sweat in his eyes, rolling off his rigid body - he couldn't tell which. He was too deep into his memories to know what was real and what wasn't anymore. Paranoia, terror, anxiety. They all came at him with a sheer strength he couldn't withstand. He knew he was dreaming, but it was like he wasn't in control of them. The nightmares flourished with every rapid beat his heart pounded out.
He screamed in his mind, that he knew for sure, his ribs were being smashed, his body purple with bruising, his back red from fresh lashings, his toes broken from Cardassian rifle butts, fingers crushed. His body was pummelled methodically and cruelly into a mangled mess. Tarak wanted to make sure James lived through his punishments. Then...
***Chief Counsellor Salshyar's Office, 0930***
Devlynn tapped her fingers on her desk as she went over Lt. Mitchell's records in readiness for his visit. She had already notified Sickbay personnel to re-direct him to her offices after his physical and psychological evaluations. She glanced at her chronometer and raised a brow.
"Salshyar to Sickbay." Devlynn didn't look up as he tapped her badge. Something in Mr. Mitchell's profile caught her eye.
[Sickbay here, Counsellor. What can we do for you?] She didn't recognize the voice at the other end. Maybe she was just too involved in her work to care.
"Have you finished with Lt. Mitchell yet? I have an appointment with the Captain to keep. Have to let him know how if his Chief Science Officer is fit to return to duty." She kept reading the profile for James, not thinking that she responded rather coldly to the person at the other end.
[Lt. Mitchell never showed up this morning, Counsellor. We tried to contact him about an hour ago, but no answer.]
"Did you send someone to his quarters to get him?" She was getting anxious now. The article about Mitchell losing his father and the events at Bajor earlier in his life were starting to click with what was written in his last Away mission report. It was a dangerous mix.
[No, ma'am. That isn't standard procedure.]
Counsellor Salshyar rose quickly out of her chair and rushed to the exit. She tapped her badge twice.
"Salshyar to Security. Have two guards meet me at Lt. Mitchell's quarters. Salshyar out."
***Minutes later, on Deck 5, Mitchell's quarters***
Counsellor Salshyar arrived just a few seconds ahead of the securty guards. People milled through the corridors, catching sideways glances at the activity going on in front of the senior officer's quarters. Develynn had continually tried to contact Mitchell through her hurried journey through the Galaxy to his qurters, but to no avail was there an answer. She tried one more time as she stood in fron of James' door. The two security guards took up positions on each side of the door as Devlynn stood in front.
"Lieutenant Mitchell, please respond. This is Counsellor Salshyar. Please open your door!" No answer. She looked to the security officers, waited one last second, then backed up as she nodded to them.
Ensign Lasky holstered his phaser, and pulled out a lock decoder, as the other security guard nodded to those passing in the corridors, making sure no one stopped to see who it was they were inquiring about. Devlynn was getting anxious.
Lasky attached the module to Mitchell's lock console.
"Security Over-ride. Alpha-Niner-Omega." The door clicked and opened a notch.
Lasky and Collins pulled the doors apart and Salshyar rushed in as soon as she was able, the security officers following suit, with phasers drawn.
The room was dimly lit, and a putrid odor permeated the room. Sweat, blood, vomit, defecation. Lasky coughed, Collins covered his mouth and nose with his forearm. Devlynn's eyes teared up as she choked.on the dank air. Then, a scream pierced the air that was full of terror and pain. Devlynn had not heard anything like it before. She ran to the source, Lasky and Collins struggling behind and found Mitchell.
James was rigid on his bed. Back arched straight up, arms outstretched, twisted in a talon-like grip, bent all odd angles. His shirt was ripped and shredded in several places, as were his pants. His body was bloodied in places, as if he tore at his own skin. Waste lay about the bed and on James. his pants were stained from urination, defecation spread about. His mouth and face were covered in vomit, and choked out more as he screamed.
"Pleeeeeassssseeeee stoppppp! I'll... do... anything... you.. want.. me..to!' His last syllable was grunted out through clenched teeth as his body went into convulsions and he began foaming at the mouth, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
"Medical Emergency in Lt. Mitchell's quarters! Hurry! He's going into cardiac arrest!" The three of them dropped everything, as Salshyar began to perform CPR on Mitchell, cursing herself for not seeing the signs earlier, as the shimmering blue sheen of a transporter beam enveloped them.
Lt. James Mitchell
***USS Ironclad***
Captain Jorgensund sat nervously in his chair, fidgeting with his arm rest as the Ironclad speed towards the retreating fleet. The subspace communications of the task force being played over for the last hour sounded urgent and on the verge of panic. The fleet was in disarray, all of the ships limping home due to battle damage, and still no word from the flagship.
From his vast wealth of battle knowledge acquired from the Klingon war and the Dominion war, he came to the conclusion that he Galaxy was dead. He still was going to follow it's last orders. After all, he didn't fight through two wars in the same ship just to die today. He didn't want the rest of the fleet to be left out there with no healthy escorts, so he cruised on anyways. Captain Jorgensund hoped he didn't meet the Borg out there while his ship and Captain Schmidt's ship streaked in for relief.
"What's the fleet's location?" Captain Jorgensund asked sharply.
"Fleet is closing in. We'll rendevous with them in a few minutes, sir." Lieutenant Quinn said.
"Good. Put the starchart of the ship's current positions on screen."
The screen showed a large display, with the fleet's original position on the far left, while the wormhole flashed on the far right. In between, two Starfleet insignias marked as the Bow River and the Ironclad raced towards the insignias identified as the Resolute, Crazy Horse, Merrimac, Lakota, ShirKahr and the Akagi, lagging behind due to warp engine troubles that kept it at warp eight. The gap between them grew smaller.
Then, something bizarre happened. Between the two separate groups a flash on the starchart appeared. The sensors read it as a transwarp conduit. Then more opened up, surrounding the fleet with exit holes in space.
"Are those what I think they are?" Captain Jorgensund asked.
"Sir, transwarp conduit, DEAD AHEAD!" Lieutenant Quinn alerted.
"All stop! Red alert! Raise shields and arm weapons!" Jorgensund didn't waste time to order his crewmembers, "Tell the fleet we have some company!"
The red alert sirens rang throughout the ship. Everyone on the Bow River and the Ironclad scrambled to battlestations. Meanwhile, on the bridge a communication came from the Merrimac.
"We see the conduit," Captain Reinhart urgently remarked, "but we have to get out of here before the whole fleet is surrounded."
"I agree," Jorgensund said, thinking out a plan, then speaking out as he came up with one, "We have to get the bigger ships out of here, since they are carrying most of the wounded. My ship and the Bow River will run interference, as well as your ship and the Resolute. We can get the other ships to do fly by shootings at any ships that block them and then have them run straight for the wormhole."
"Sounds like a plan to me. Merrimac out."
The Bow River and the Ironclad stopped in front of the transwarp conduit. From out of the swirling blue mass came the most imposing ship of all. It was a Borg cube. While most cubes looked like a mass of black pipes and tubules, this ship was covered with thick plates of dull gray duranium armor to cover it's weak points. The glowing green masses on the cube were more numerous, implying more weapon systems.
This was the tactical cube, the Borg equivalent of a warship.
"Shit... of all the things to block our way..." The Captain swore, regaining his composure after looking at the large cube in awe, "Well boys, let's light this bastard up. Fire at will!"
***USS Merrimac***
"Sir, the Ironclad just engaged the Borg Cube..." The Merrimac's officer said.
"That's our cue. Let's run along side the Resolute and open fire. Randomize your phaser frequencies and try to spread out the range of the ghosting array, give the Resolute some cover." Captain Reinhart ordered.
"Yes, sir."
***The rest of the fleet***
As the Resolute and the Merrimac dropped out of warp and engaged the enemy cube, the Bow River and the Ironclad split away and attacked the sides of the gigantic cube. In retaliation, the cube shot out it's tractor beams and plasma torpedos back at the annoying gnats. The Federation ships looked insignificant as their tiny red phaser beams stung the larger cube.
Then, the Lakota and ShirKahr dropped out of warp, and started their strafing runs. The Lakota's quantum torpedo volleys streaked pass the weaving ships and slammed into the tactical cube. The explosions lit up space, but against the thick armor plates they only made small holes. As the ships ran along side the cube, they let go a violent scattering of phaser fire. A tractor beam lanced out it's green energy at the ShirKahr and grappled it until the Ironclad and the Resolute concentrated their fire on the offending weapon. The ship lost it's tractor beam and let go of it's prize, letting it and the Lakota go into warp.
On the other side of the ship, the Bow River avoided a dangerous spread of plasma torpedos. It's phasers streaked and smacked the cube, shimmering without effect as the Borg cube adapted to it's frequency. The cube shot a lone plasma torpedo at the Bow River, hitting it dead on. It went exploded furiously, scattering it's parts in all directions.
The next ship to drop out of warp was the Crazy Horse. It didn't waste time when it fired it's lethal photon torpedos. The first shot shimmered into nothingness, the next one hitting and exploding a corner of the cube once it was set on a new frequency. Then it too went out of warp.
The only ship left was the Akagi, and it was minutes away from arriving. The Merrimac suffered heavy damage from a torpedo, while the Ironclad and Resolute avoided the menacing tractor beams.
"Merrimac to fleet! Merrimac to fleet! We have a warp core breach! All hands abandon ship..."
The fleet's subspace radios turned to static as the Merrimac exploded. The Ironclad veered to port as the Merrimac's deflector array flew in it's direction and struck the cube like a bug on a windshield.
***USS Resolute***
"SIR!" the Resolute's tactical officer yelled as he moved his head to avoid a shower of sparks, "We only have one ship left, and that's the Akagi."
"We need to buy that ship some time." Captain Cartel screamed over the confusing explosions and the blare of the klaxon sirens, "Come about at 034 mark 821. Fire at will!"
"Firing at will, sir!"
The Resolute swerved to avoid the tractor beams that threatened to stop the ship cold in it's tracks. The Ironclad let loose another volley of torpedos and phasers on the cube, making an impressive line of explosions on the cube's side but doing no real damage to slow it down. A tractor beam latched onto the Ironclad, while a horrified Captain Cartel looked on.
"Keep that cube on us. Make sure it doesn't target the Akagi." His voice ordered though the din of exploding circuitry.
A cutting beam sliced into the Ironclad's engineering section. Exploding fire erupted from the crippled ship as lifepods shot out from it. The cube tractored in the helpless lifepods as the ship slowly engulfed itself.
Just then, the Akagi appeared. It's photon torpedos laced into the cube and freed a few of the lifepods. Some of the pods disappeared in transporter beams.
"Akagi here." Captain Ar'tann announced, "Should we pick up the rest?"
Captain Cartel made a snap decision. "Negative," he said, "Get your ass out of there now! We'll hold them..."
With the Akagi's shield's down to transport the Ironclad's survivors, she was left vulnerable to the Borg's weapons. Bits and pieces of the Akagi blew off, but the ship still held on to her course. The Akagi's shields then came up, deflecting some of the Borg weapons in a green haze. The Resolute, seeing a torpedo make a path for the Akagi, ran right into it before it blew away the ship.
As the torpedo meant for the Akagi hit the Resolute, the small Defiant class ship shook from the impact. The operations console blasted apart, flinging the officer manning the station from the concussion blast. The science station overloaded and blew apart, killing two officers as it sent plastic shrapnel into it's victims. A bulkhead plowed through the security console and narrowly killed the security officer.
"Akagi, are you ready to engage to warp yet?" Captain Cartel asked impatiently.
"We will be in a minute. Our warp power's out. Rerouting auxiliary power to warp engines." Captain Ar'tann responded in static.
"Damn!" Cartel yelled. The Akagi didn't have a minute to warp. By that time, the cube will have finished off the Resolute and then come back for the last ship. They didn't have a minute.
Cartel could use the Resolute to buy an minute!
"Akagi, beam off my surviving crew members as soon as you can. We're going to arm our anti-matter warhead and ram this thing. That'll give you enough time to get out." Captain Cartel said.
"Are you sure about this?" Captain Ar'tann said uneasily.
"Just do it. I'll stay in the ship and send her on her way."
"I understand. Akagi out."
The tactical officer already laid in the course for the tactical cube as the tractor beam's green glow enveloped the ship. The tac officer pushed his final button to fire the pulse phasers. The burst of phaser fire blew out the tractor beam.
"She's armed and ready sirrr....." He managed to say before the Akagi's transporter beam took the officer away.
Captain Cartel walked to the tactical station, his finger hovering over the button that would send the Resolute into warp and crashing into the tactical cube. For the moment, the cube ignored the Resolute and drifted toward the Akagi.
He took a moment to look at his remaining crewmen, all dead around him as the sparks showered from the ceiling and the smoke rose from the floor. Everyone around him was dead. Pretty soon he would join them.
Captain Cartel of the USS Resolute pushed the button that was to end it all.
***USS Akagi***
Captain Ar'tann watched as the Resolute went into warp right behind the them. The rear viewscreen showed it all; the small, insignificant flash of the Resolute going into warp, then a split second later the corner of the Borg cube became consumed in fire as a matter-antimatter reaction occurred. The whole ship was consumed in the light of the blast. The bottom corner of the cube immediately shattered and blew off large pieces of metal. Gouts of fire erupted all over the armored mass, crippling the ship as the Akagi flew by.
The flying pieces of debris shot past the Akagi. The pieces came close to hitting the now fragile ship, until a large beam the size of the Akagi's shuttlebay spun right towards them.
"All hands, brace for impact!" Captain Ar'tann warned the ship.
The duranium beam impacted on the Akagi's saucer section, right behind the bridge area. Inside the bridge, almost every panel exploded one by one. The crewmembers got scattered and flung by as the bridge rumbled and blew in fury. Captain Ar'tann gave the order to go to warp, as a bulkhead came loose and struck him in the back. He collapsed on the floor, unconcious...
***Deep Space Nine***
Colonel Kira Nerys stood by in DS9's ops station, hoping to hear something from the fleet. The last few days had been restless for her, mostly due to her worries about Captain Price. Since his ship and the rest of the fleet slipped through the wormhole in pursuit of a rumored Borg invasion, the whole station stood on watch and waited for any word. Hours ago, the relay station on the other side of the wormhole confirmed their fears; they have engaged the Dominion and then the Borg, with four ships down in the crossfire.
Even a battle hardened resistance fighter such as Kira Nerys was nervous. She knew well enough how dangerous the Dominion was, but the stories that Captain Sisko told her about the Borg and the battle of Wolf 359 gave her a better reason to be unnerved. Worse yet, Captain Price and the Galaxy were still on the other side. She cared deeply for the Captain, and she didn't want to lose him and the ship like she lost Vedic Berial and Captain Sisko.
"Anything from the relay station?" Kira asked, not so much as to find anything but to do something.
"Nothing, sir." A fresh faced ensign raised his head from his console to tell Kira what she dreaded to hear. She didn't like it, no word from the fleet, not a communication from the Ironclad in hours and as far as she could tell, they were all dead. She felt helpless, something she hated feeling most of all.
"Dammit," She cursed, "Where the hell is that fleet?"
The answer to her question came sooner than she could predict. "SIR! Elevated neutrino levels at the wormhole! It could be the fleet!" A Bajoran officer yelled.
"About time..." Colonel Kira sighed, "On screen."
On the view screen, the wormhole opened up like a blossom, spilling out it's seedy grains of light. From the core it spat out the first ship. The first to come through was a Miranda class ship. It was pock-marked from the weapon blasts it endured. Main power to the ship flickered on and off, the lights on the porthole phasing in and out as it's energy levels rose and fell.
"Sir, it's the ShirKahr. She's in bad shape." The station's tactical officer spoke urgently.
"Tell the ShirKahr to dock on top of pilon 1." Kira ordered.
"Wait, sir. There's more coming..."
From the mouth of the wormhole spat out another ship, followed by a third identical ship. They were Excelsiors, and they both had gashes and scars on their saucer and engineering sections. One of the ships leaked plasma from the starboard warp nacelle, while the other had a deflector array that flickered on and off.
"Sir, the ship with the plasma leak is the Crazy Horse. The other one is the Lakota. Both report heavy casualties." The tactical officer said.
"Have the Lakota dock on pilon 2, while the Crazy Horse can dock on number three. Tell Dr. Bashir to prepare for the wounded." Her orders snapped like lightning, like they were still not quick enough.
"Aye sir... wait! There's one more... it's the Akagi."
The last ship to come out was a massive Ambassador class vessel. The wormhole closed up quickly after disgorging her. The ship itself was a nearly-dead wreck. Chunks of the mighty vessel looked like they were torn off, leaving glowing red scars of superheated metal. No lights shined through the portholes. The warp engines and deflector array barely kept power, flashing on and off as the impulse engines barely kept her limping. The ship itself gave out one last dying flash of light. It's impulse drives, warp nacelles and deflector array gave up and died. She drifted in space, towards the station.
"Get a tractor beam on that ship and bring her in to lower pilon 2." Kira rattled off, "Any more ships coming through?"
"No sir, not one." Tactical replied.
She looked at the viewscreen again, watching the golden tractor beam reel in the crippled battleship. She couldn't find the Galaxy anywhere, confirming her fears that something did happen.
"Open a channel to the ShirKahr. Maybe we can get some answers from Captain Reznor." Kira voiced strongly to hide her fear.
"Channel open, audio only." The ops station confirmed.
"This is Colonel Kira Nerys of Deep Space Nine. What is the fleet's status?"
The voice on the other end crackled from interference, but the voice of Captain Darrel Reznor could still be figured out. "ShirKahr to DS9, we so far are the only survivors of the fleet. We have lost ten ships in the fleet, and we can't find the Galaxy anywhere. She must have been separated or destroyed when the Borg fleet attacked, Colonel."
"Excuse me, a Borg FLEET?" She replied. Kira was shocked to find that it wasn't just a Borg ship but a whole fleet that pounced on the task force and tore them to shreads.
"That's affirmative, Colonel." Captain Reznor crackled over the comm channel, "A whole fleet just wailed on us and the Dominion, and we can't find the Galaxy anywhere. Probably scrap like the rest of the ships out there."
She didn't want to believe it. The Galaxy, gone in the melee that beat back the Federation fleet so easily. She wanted to believe that the Galaxy was ok out there somewhere, but she felt that if the fleet was this badly beaten, then there was a good chance that the Galaxy became one of the casualties.
Colonel Kira prayed to the prophets for a second, hoping that Captain Price and his ship survived, that they would return soon.
"What do we tell Starfleet command, sir?" The operations officer asked.
Kira turned around, facing the new officer and replying as she held back the lump in her throat, "Tell them only four ships made it, and all other ships confirmed destroyed except the Galaxy."
"Then what about the Galaxy?"
She loathed to say the words, knowing that she couldn't avoid telling the truth in her heart.
"Tell them the Galaxy is missing in action." Colonel Kira Nerys told her tactical officer grimly.
It was a scene straight from the terrors of one's nightmare. An open trans-warp conduit in the near distance with a stream of Borg cubes tearing out of it; like disturbed bees charging out of a hive to protect their territory. Counselor Dallas was correct to point out how the other ship Captain's could likely react to the order to withdraw from the battle field and head back to the Alpha quadrant. But now, seeing the way the Borg already out numbered the ships remaining in both the Federation and Dominion fleets, even she thought there would be no argument to getting out of the way of the Borg onslaught. They were, after all, also preoccupied with attacking each other.
"Get all tubes loaded with the new torpedoes!" Captain Price bellowed as another Borg attack rocked the Galaxy's armor plating. "We need to thin out their ships to allow the rest of the fleet time to escape."
Rebecca glanced at the main view screen from her position at the tactical station. Her computer-like brain was involuntarily causing her eyes to watch the stream of Borg cubes exit the conduit and calculate the rate to be 1 cube per second entering the quadrant. ~~Noodles! Even my worst Borg battle scenarios never pitted the Federation against more then a few cubes.~~ Hearing the Captain's commands, she acknowledged. "Aye sir, loading all tubes with multi-phasic torpedoes." It was Lieutenant' von Ernst's unique ability to calculate that let her so quickly compute the rate of Borg ships exiting the warp conduit. It didn't take a fraction of her abilities to run the next calculation. The USS Galaxy had been outfitted with 60 multi-phasic torpedoes at Starbase 114. And she had already used 15 of those in the last encounter with the Borg. These magic missiles that had changed the balance of power for the Federation; that had proven to be effective it obliterating a Borg cube that was before unstoppable; there simply wasn't going to be enough of these to fire this time around. In another ten seconds, there would be more Borg cubes then they had torpedoes to fire. Fortunately, the warp conduit was finally beginning to collapse.
The USS Galaxy rocked again as another Borg cube fired upon her. In a moment, another destroyed that cube and then locked onto the Galaxy with a tractor beam.
["We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."]
The General's head was down a bit as his eyes peered up at the view screen with an almost sinister look in them. "Want to bet 'mate?" he mumbled before calling out, "Lieutenant'?"
"Forward tubes loaded sir." Rebecca acknowledged.
"Give 'em what's behind tube number one..." Lee ordered.
Von Ernst thumbed the fire button as she called out, "Firing torpedo number one Captain."
The orange trail shot away from the Galaxy and struck the Borg cube dead center. For all of Lieutenant' von Ernst's nervousness at having to take over as acting Chief Tactical officer in the wake of Richeson's injury, she hadn't missed a single target yet. The results spoke for themselves. A brilliant explosion filled the screen as pieces of Borg cube flew away in every direction.
"Nice work Lieutenant'." Price commented from the command chair.
"Captain, the Akagi is under attack by the Borg. They are caught in a tractor beam." Commander Thomas relayed while scanning the progress the fleet was having at evacuating the area as ordered by Fleet Captain Price.
"Lieutenant Gustavson, alter course to head for the Akagi. Lieutenant' von Ernst, stand by with torpedo number two." Captain Price ordered.
The Chief helmsman had the Galaxy swerving towards the USS Akagi's coordinates in no time. As the ship altered course, the main view screen gave a good panoptic view of the battlefield. The trans-warp conduit had closed now, but there were still dozens of Borg vessels flying about, evading and attacking each other. It truly was a sort of Borg civil war going on.
"Second torpedo ready when you are sir." Rebecca called out.
When the Akagi came into view, Captain Price requested, "Miss von Ernst, fire when ready 'mate."
Rebecca got a good lock on the Borg vessel that was holding the USS Akagi in a tractor beam. From their side approach, it was easy to see the Akagi struggling to break free from the Borg tractor beam. The Akagi's warp engines were glowing brightly and the entire vessel was fishtailing under the stress. From their position it looked like the Akagi was likely exceeding emergency warp tolerances in her attempt to break free.
"Locking onto target, and firing now Captain..." Rebecca stated.
Another torpedo was launched from the Galaxy, and another strike was scored for the acting Chief Tactical Officer. If Lieutenant' von Ernst wasn't so worried about making a mistake or accidentally killing innocent people, she might have realized that she was doing an outstanding job.
"Target destroyed sir." Was all Rebecca could manage while trying to stay focused at the business at hand and keep her mind off of the Galaxy's diminishing supply of wonder torpedoes. ~~Surely the Captain knows how many of these torpedoes we have remaining...~~ she thought while struggling with the inner conflict of figuring out if she should remind the General or trust that he was keeping count.
The battle kept going strong. Target after target the Galaxy began whittling away at the many Borg vessels. With each one Rebecca kept an internal count on the number of torpedoes that remained. It was a positive sign to see the Federation fleet distancing itself from the many Borg ships. Eventually it looked as though they had a chance of reaching the wormhole and escaping back to the Alpha quadrant. Unfortunately, as the fleet moved out of the Borg's area of interest, that meant more of the sinister cubes began to focus on the USS Galaxy; giving Rebecca another thing to worry about. Her fancy armor plating.
Another violent strike jolted the ship, making it the third cube to fire on the Galaxy in the last ten seconds. The high tech ablative armor the Galaxy had been outfitted with was beginning to break down under the beating. Lieutenant Commander Peterson was surprised the Borg hadn't learnt to adapt to the new technology by now. The collective's ability to learn from each of its attacks and defeats was one of the things that made them such a dangerous enemy. But evidently whatever was disconnected in the collective consciousness, whatever was causing each separate Borg cube act as an independent hive unto itself, must be limiting their effectiveness in ship to ship combat. For no one cube got more then one chance to 'observe' multi-phasic torpedoes before they were destroyed.
"Ablative armor plating is beginning to fail sir. We are down to twenty four percent and the regeneration rate is severely hampered." Rebecca advised, "I don't think it will last longer then a few more strikes."
Lee glanced at the tactical officer and nodded. "Trying to avoid any more strikes would be the thing to do in that case. Lieutenant Gustavson, do your best at evading the Borg 'mate. If you can get them to attack each other, so much the better." Lee ordered.
"Captain, we could always withdraw. If the armor fails, the Galaxy looses her defensive edge. And we are probably running low on torpedoes by now." Commander Thomas commented. As First Officer, it was Chris' duty to point out options to the Captain and to look out for the safety of the officers and the ship. "If we loose the armor and are assimilated or destroyed by the Borg, the Galaxy is of no use to the Federation sir."
At the tactical station, Lieutenant' von Ernst looked up at hearing the XO point out the low number of special torpedoes they had remaining. Inwardly she was glad, since she wouldn't have to be the one to bring it to the Captain's attention.
Lee glanced over to the First Officer. "So noted 'mate. But things are thinning out now. I have a hunch the remaining cubes will be bugging out at any moment."
Chris' eyes locked with the Captain's. "If they don't, we might not be able to get away in time. Once the armor goes down..."
"We aren't going to get a second chance at this 'mate. If we can't get the info we need about what's happening to the collective because of Admiral Janeway's virus, we won't be able to. With just seven mulit-phasic warheads left, we won't get this shot again." The Captain explained.
Chris nodded. He knew the Captain was right. If the Borg were riding their trans-warp conduit nodes, this could be happening anywhere in the galaxy. They were presently in the gamma quadrant, but the Borg could just as easily open a conduit to the Alpha quadrant, or even sector 001. To think of several dozen Borg cubes fighting near Sol was not a pleasant thought.
Across the bridge, Rebecca was somewhat relieved the Captain had been counting the number of torpedoes used. It made her glad she didn't bring it to his attention.
At Ops, Lieutenant Commander Surok pointed out, "The Borg are opening a new trans-warp conduit Captain."
True to the Vulcan's word, on screen the multi-colored energy field of an opening trans-warp conduit began to form. The Borg cube that initiated the conduit opening was the first to escape through it. The other nearby cubes quickly followed the first cube as they all raced to keep up with the Jones'.
"Mister Gustavson, I never thought I'd give this order, but follow that Borg cube." Captain Price stated while pointing at one of the trailing Borg vessels.
The Chief Flight Control officer adjusted the helm and soon had the Galaxy approaching to within tractor range. "Closing in Captain. So far the Borg seems to be ignoring us sir." Gustavson stated.
"Miss von Ernst, lock a tractor beam onto that vessel and let's all hold on for an interesting ride." Price ordered.
"I'll need to lower the armor sir..." Rebecca reminded.
Lee's eyes flickered towards Chris for a moment, and then he stated, "Do it 'mate. Replace the ablative armor with shields and activate tractor beam."
"Aye Captain." Lieutenant' von Ernst replied, carrying out the General's orders.
The USS Galaxy closed behind the trailing Borg cube; the last one to enter the trans-warp conduit pursuing the others down the pike. The acting Chief Tactical officer activated the tractor beam, which locked onto the Borg ship and acted like a towline to drag the USS Galaxy along. When the Borg cube entered the conduit, it pulled the Galaxy in after her. Leaving the warp-conduit to close in a brief flash.
***
Inside the trans-warp conduit, a multi-colored sort of tunnel appeared to bob and weave through time and space. There was a long convoy of Borg vessels up ahead. They were spread out far enough apart to where they all couldn't be seen through the twists and turns of the conduit; but having seen them all enter, the bridge crew of the Galaxy knew there were plenty of them up ahead. Frankly, Lee was glad that they were the tail end of the Borg train.
"Fair dinkum." The Captain declared slapping his thighs. "Step one complete. We have entered the warp-conduit, and are using the Borg in front of us to pull us along. Since they won't attack us in here, we can move onto step number two."
"An away team sir?" Commander Thomas asked.
"Aye. Assemble a team to beam over to the cube we are tailing. We need to tap into their collective consciousness and scan their databanks to try and gather more information on this futuristic virus that Admiral Janeway introduced. It's the only way we will be able to figure out how to undo the damage and set the Borg straight to stop this predatorily aggressive behavior."
"I understand Captain. Since the Borg were acting very aggressively on the Romulan ship, I think it's safe to assume they will not simply ignore any presence on their own ship. I will make sure the team is well armed with the new phaser weapons that should be harder to adapt to." Commander Thomas stated.
"Take whomever you need 'mate. It's critical that we get in, get the information we need, and get out quickly. We have no idea how long we will be riding in the conduit. It may be minutes; it may be hours. But if the Borg exit while the away team is still on their vessel, we might not be in a position to get you home."
"Believe me, no one will be over there any longer then necessary. I can pretty much guarantee that." Chris smiled.
"Go assemble your team then 'mate. The fate of the Federation and maybe even the galaxy depends on your success." Lee finished.
Chris nodded and then glanced around the bridge in preparation to assembling his away team.
Grabbing Commander Thomas by the shoulder, Lee leaned closer, "Prepare an away team to board one of the Borg vessels Commander. We need to tap into the Borg collective to get some answers from their databanks on what is going on and why they are behaving this way. This all seems to be related to what happened with Voyager and that retro-virus Janeway introduced. We need more information on how it's affected the Borg."
"Understood Captain. I'll get right on it." Chris answered.
Commander Thomas was being asked once again to prepare an away team for a mission. This time to a Borg cube, to find some answers. This wasn't going to be a board away team, it needed to be very specific and limited in size. The Borg should ignore a small group from the ship, but if they sent a large group it would be a danger.
This time he had to select the right people for the job and there was only a few number of slots that he had to fill on this kind of away team mission. Of course choosing those people would be a challenge. With a little thought he decided on the people who would be the logical choices for the mission.
Lt. Commander Savat, Lt. Commander Peterson and a security officer. Those would be the away team members, and himself a 4 member group. Limited in size, but they would have to carry the weapons for the job. Lt. Commander Surok would also have been a logical choice for the mission, under different
Chris decided that would be the away team, there was little time to continue debating the issue he was the first officer and the captain had given him the order to round up an away team and make ready to beam over to a Borg cube for Answers. Chris exited the conference room and joined the rest of the group on the bridge.
His first stop was at tactical to speak with Lt. Richeson and advise him of the captain's orders and the needed to keep a transporter lock on such an away team in case something happened. He also wanted the chief to put a runabout on full standby, just in case they needed another way to get over or off a Borg cube.
Now he needed to alert the away team members that when the time was right they were going to be ready for another away team mission. This time the group was smaller and he suspected the time would be near.
Commander Thomas joined Lt. Commander Peterson at the science station, as to alert him to the away mission. "Mr. Peterson, I wanted to let you know the captain has asked me to assemble another away team. This time we're going over to a Borg cube when the opportunity presents its self." Chris said as he leaned near the chief's station.
Lt. Commander Peterson just nodded for the moment.
Chris and the chief science had yet to see eye to eye since they'd first meet. However while that may not change for sometime to come, he was confident the two of them could work together professional long enough to get the job done. In fact he was very hopeful that was the case, for they would have to now.
"'Commander the captain wants an away team ready to go over to the Borg cube when such an opportunity presents itself to us. Given your knowledge on the Borg and being the chief science officer I need you on this away team." Commander Thomas said in a very diplomatic tone.
"And why not the last mission?" 'Commander Peterson asked in a slightly demanding tone.
"The last away team mission was different, we were going over to a Romulan ship controlled by the Borg to some extent. My decision was also practical at the time there was already many of the command staff being selected for the mission. Plus if the captain needed your expertise on the Borg he would need you here." Chris said in a logical explanation tone.
Kent accepted the answer for what it was and moved back to the upcoming assignment. "And our orders for this mission?"
"Our orders are to tap into the Borg collective, somehow and get some answers from their databanks on what is going on and why they are behaving this way. The captain believes this is related to what happened with Voyager and that retro-virus Janeway introduced. We need more information on how it's affected the Borg."
"Makes sense." the chief scientist said.
"If you'll excuse me chief, I have to speak with Lt. Commander Savat who'll also be joining us on this away mission." Chris said as he'd spotted the chief security officer moving around on the bridge still.
"Of course commander." Kent said as the first officer headed off to speak with the chief security officer.
Commander Thomas departed the chief science officer and headed over to speak with Savat about security for the mission and his accompanying the mission.
"Mr. Savat the captain has requested that I put together another away team group for a trip over to a Borg cube. He wants us to collect some answers about the current behavior of the Borg." Chris said.
"Yes sir, I figured he might follow the kind of thinking." Savat responded.
Chris nodded, "He believes that some of the missing information that we need can and will be found over there. Which is why I need you and a security officer to be ready to accompany Mr. Peterson and myself over there."
"I will make the arrangements." Savat said.
-----
Emergency Senior Staff Meeting (the ending)
*** Turbo Lift 3 ***
Jeral was several decks away from the bridge when the turbo lift lurched hard to port, then started to fall rapidly. [Warning- mechanical break down of turbo lift components.] The computer said all too predictably. The doctor called for emergency beam out, but the velocity of the lift was too swift to get an accurate transporter lock.
Dr Maas was glad for 4 life times of experience, and his recent passing of the Command duty exam. This gave him skills to cope with most any emergency. He quickly called down to engineering and asked for them to vent gas into the shaft. Pressure built up below the falling car, causing it to slow.
Near the bottom of the shaft, Jeral was rescued. The car had slowed enough by then for beam out to be successful. Since he was already late for the staff meeting, he had the transporter operator beam him straight to the conference room.
This unusual entrance caused quite a discussion. Jeral's uniform was discheveled from the ordeal, and smudged with coolant from one of the turbo lift's leaking pipes. Never the less, once things calmed down the General called on Jeral to make a presentation.
"First", the Trill began, "I have just had a close brush with death in a malfunctioning turbo lift. It's braking systems failed. But I asked engineering to fill the shaft with pressurized gas. This plan slowed the falling car down enough that it was safe to beam me here. I apologize for my startling entrance, but respectively request we take all turbo lifts off line for safety inspections. The inconvience of crawling through Jefferies tubes for a while is worth it if we save the Galaxy from potential hazardous accidents."
Jeral took in reactions to this statement. "Of course, Engineering will help on this matter since it reflects on the crew's safety." Mr Sutter said.
"Attack"
Ethan was on his way back to Engineering. The Senior Staff had finsihed and everyone was off to their stations. Ethan was surprised to see Q appear earlier on and wondered what he wanted. He only caught a glimpse of the funny character, but that was all that he needed to know there would no doubt be some trouble soon. Although Q hadn't been dealing otu much trouble lately.
The main doors to Engineering opened and Ethan walked on through up to the warp core and thought.
"Ethan?" a voice called out.
Ethan turned to see T'Zaq and Michael stood near him. He raised his eye brows as if to ask silently, yes?
"All systems are ready and repaired from the last encounter with the Borg. Well, almost. Some seconday systems are twitchy, but nothing major." Michael reported.
"Good, I think there'll be another encounter soon." Ethan replied glancing back at the warp core and rubbing his left elbow slightly. It still hurt but was getting better.
"Heard you had an accident earlier." Michael said glancing at Ethan's arm.
"Would you be able to confirm the rumourous events?" T'Zaq asked.
Ethan gave a slight smile. About to answer, the ship shook. Didn't take much to notice what it was. The Borg! "Get to your stations, you know the drill!" Ethan snapped, his attitude, now changed completely from nice to serious.
The ship continued to rock like a small life raft in the middle of a storm, in the middle of some sea.... somewhere....
A conduit exploded near one of the junior engineers, but seeing he was ok, Ethan carried on making his way to the main console in Engineering. "T'Zaq, keep things running down here. I'll be on the Bridge!" he ordered. On his way out, he almost lost his balance when the ship rocked again, only Michael caught him before he fell over completely. "Thanks." he said quietly. "Trust you can help keep things in control. If we take damage over the ship, get repair teams there ASAP, if there's anything really bad, I'll know about it and be there before you." he said as he walked towards the exit. Turning around before he reached the door, Ethan pointed at Michael with a half serious expression. "And remember, no heroic risks today... That's my job." he said with a smile as he continued walking out of Engineering.
*** Bridge ***
Ethan stepped off the turbolift and took the Engineering station immediately. He sacrificed a second to glance at the view screen and then the Commander and Captain.
"Go assemble your team then 'mate. The fate of the Federation and maybe even the galaxy depends on your success." Lee finished.
Chris nodded and then glanced around the bridge in preparation to assembling his away team.
Ethan had the feeling he was going to be needed here on the ship, although part of him wanted to go on this mission that sounded serious. He wanted to be over there to help out with the other crew members that were going, but if he was needed here, then he could protect those on the ship. He had seen too many people come and go on this ship and was dedicated to not losing any more members of the crew.
To Be Continued...
(Bridge)
Rebecca worked without thinking, her fingers gliding over the polished control surfaces with a listless weariness. Her great brown eyes were glazed over, and unfocussed, the events on the bridge actually holding no interest for her at the moment.
The Galaxy jolted again and again, as the renewed efforts of the Borg to assimilate her struck home, but the miracle of the new Ablative armor system made the whole affair rather trivial.
Aside from a few minor lurches and bumps, this encounter with the deadliest foe in the Galaxy could be best described as downright…..boring.
At least the doldrums allowed her to focus on other more pressing issues, namely what to do about Nilani, and secondly how she really needed to take a bathroom break.
She assumed it would be a major breach of Starfleet Protocul to take a Potty-break during an encounter with the Borg, but with the new Armor system Rebecca figured it really didn’t make too much of a difference. The Ship would still be here after she got back, no harm done.
Well so much for common sense, Rebecca scrunched her nose and sighed.
The fact of the matter was, Rebecca decided, being a Tactical officer sucked.
It wasn't just the awesome power and responsibility that came with the handling of the mightiest weapons of war. As far s Rebecca was concerned it was just an exercise in pushing buttons.
It wasn't the painful awareness that any wrong move, or any wrong decision would doom 1000 men and women (and slimy aliens) to certain death in the vacuum of space....Rebecca just followed instructions...that was for The Captain to worry about.
The truly 'sucky' thing about Tactical was that everybody else on the bridge got a big comfy chair to sit down in except her!
--Noodles my legs hurt.-- she complained silently to herself as she attempted to shift her weight from one skinny leg to another. She had been standing here for several hours now, and it didn't help that she had to stand on her tip-toes from time to time in order to reach an awkwardly placed switch.
Whatever Leah Brahms had been thinking when she designed the Tactical Arch, obviously short people were not on her mind.
The Galaxy was once again fighting off hordes and hordes of Borg Cubes that had come hurtling out of Trans-warp space with the one intention of blowing little Rebecca out of the stars. At first she had been rather scared, having heard nothing but horror stories about the Federations most deadly foe. However now, after many fierce minutes of battle, it became painfully obvious that the boys from Delta Quadrant were in waaay over their heads.
The new ablative armor systems reduced the Borgs deadly cutting beams to mere hiccups and shudders for the Galaxy.
The new Omnipotent all-powerful, whammo-blammo, kick yo ass, multi phasic super-duper Torpedoes made things even more laughably simple.
As a matter of fact, in the heat of battle, when the normally skittish Rebecca would have typically been cringing in fear, she instead had time to worry about more mundane concerns.....
Like how she really needed a chair, or a stool or something to sit on while at tactical. After all if your gonna deal out wholesale death and destruction, (and what better deal on mayhem than at wholesale prices) you might as well do it in comfort and style.
Rebecca paused during her death-dealing to scratch her freckled little nose.
On the forward viewscreen the ominous image of a gargantuan Borg Cube appeared....This leviathan, the ultimate symbol of evil and death in the Milky Way raced towards the hapless starship bent on ripping its fragile hull asunder bulkhead by bulkhead.
With a hellish green glow emanating from its internal mechanisms, the geometric monstrosity locked onto the Galaxy with its hellish death-rays.
"Torpedo away." Rebecca called while stifling a yawn.
Bang, Dead Borg.
Rebecca flexed her knees briefly attempting to get the circulation going again.
As quickly as the first, another cube approached on an intercept course.
==WE ARE BORG. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE. PREPARE TO BE..…….==
With a yawn and a flick of a switch a skinny white girl from Minnesota easily dispatched the annoying little cyborg voices.
"Prepare to like, shut up." Rebecca mused.
-- Boriiiing..-- she thought to herself. --Like wake me when its over.--
Meanwhile other thoughts occupied her mind….namely her weirdo encounter with Nilani Kahn.
She hated her for making things so confusingly difficult. She hated the Borg for showing up and not giving her time to figure things out. ~~Noodles, I just got kissed by a girl not 24 hours ago and now I'm stuck up here like some stupid chimpanzee pushing the buttons for some horrible new weapons.~~
--Kissed by another girl....yuk. Makes you want to spit. Ptooey!--
It was then, in one of those typically stupid actions that afflict humans who are not paying attention, that little Rebecca DID in fact spit. Before she realized it a small splash of saliva spattered right on the tactical displays before her glowing slightly from the back-lit LCARS display.
Dismayed at her social gaffe, the skinny redhead reached quickly (as is human nature) to wipe up the evidence of her mistake.......Until she realized where exactly the spit had landed.
The saliva sat quite innocently atop the LOWER SHIELDS button, quietly daring her to try and clean it up.
--Oh Noodles,-- she thought, --If I clean it up, I'll accidentally drop the shields and doom the ship!--
Clearly that was unacceptable.
On the other hand, just leaving it there was kinda gross as well, and she'd just die if anyone noticed her goof.
Decisions decisions she thought her hand hovering over the offending button.
Electra eyes' widened at the sensor readings in front of her. A new Borg conduit had opened and a swarm was emerging. She bit her lower lip and sat straighter. When she felt a presence at her elbow she glanced up and saw with profound relief her boss, Lieutenant Commander Surok. He nodded to her and she rose, towering over the chair and he slid into her place. She gave him a quick briefing on the problems she had been working on re-routing power around and hurriedly left the bridge, knowing she could be called back if Surok was needed elsewhere, but exhausted from the more than double shift she had pulled. Part of alpha shift she had been handling her new duties as acting assistant chief and then she relieved Surok when he left for the away mission. She had been on the bridge throughout that time, through his return, the battles with the Dominion and the Borg and during the lengthy senior staff meeting. Normally, Freeman or Uhura would have relieved her but they were all needed elsewhere due to the power problems that were occurring with the new armor and after the battles.
Electra needed a rest. She hurried to her quarters and pulled off her uniform, as the ship rocked lightly with hits from the Borg. She took a quick sonic shower and ordered a hot herbal tea from the replicator. She then sat at her desk and accessed her personal files. There were a number of messages. She scrolled through them. There were numerous replies to her message regarding memorial services and other messages which required OPS attention. She handled them all as she sipped her tea, tension draining from her. Until she reached the end of the queue.
The final message was from someone she had hoped never to hear from again. The unknown person who was stalking her. They were smart and canny. All proof of stalking disappeared shortly after its reception. Still, after months of the treatment, Electra had broken down and reported it. After Security had investigated and found nothing (and told her she was crazy), the harassment had stopped. It had been over a week since anything had happened. But Electra's eyes were glued to the screen as they read the chilling words that proved it had only been an intermission.
ELECTRA DEAREST ONE,
I AM VERY ANGRY WITH YOU! HOW COULD YOU SET THOSE SECURITY DOGS ON ME? YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO BE WITH ME AND YOU LOVE MY PRESENTS. YOU KNOW THAT WE ARE MEANT TO BE TOGETHER FOREVER AND EVER. WE TWO, AGAINST TIME, AGAINST ETERNITY. ALWAYS. BUT YOU ARE BEING A VERY BAD GIRL. YOU TRIED TO GET ME IN TROUBLE. THAT WAS VERY FOOLISH OF YOU AND YOU KNOW THAT I WILL HAVE TO PUNISH YOU FOR IT. BAD GIRL. I WAS SO DISAPPOINTED IN YOU. YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU. BUT WHEN YOU ARE BAD, YOU MUST BE DISCIPLINED TO LEARN YOUR LESSON. AND IT WILL BE A HARSH LESSON. SOON. WE WILL BE TOGETHER SOON, MY LOVELY GIANTESS.
Electra read the words over and over and gasped as they didn't disappear. ~ Finally, he made a mistake! ~
"Computer, download current file onto PADD."
[ Download complete. ]
Electra smiled victoriously as she quickly pulled on a clean uniform and hurried from her quarters towards the Security office. Finally, she had the proof she needed. She smiled as she kept her gaze on the words that did not disappear.
NPCS: Ensign Indiana Brisbane, an operations officer at DS9. Craig Jamieson,Carrie Jamieson, Autumn’s cousin’s and Alisa Milton The children’s Nanny
Heather had finally managed to spend a couple of hours manning the helm, following the Borg encounter. Although it was quiet once again, she knew that a more experienced flight control was waiting in the wings, ready to take her place when the next wave started. So far, she had being ordered to hold the ship’s position, which was proving as thrilling as watching the grass grow. However, she was pleased to be piloting once again. It had a certain appeal she often found difficult to describe, but it knew it was a pleasure she could also associate with her late husband. After another two hours, Heather finished her shift and literally dragged her tired self back to her quarters. Marina was already asleep, as she was assigned the Alpha Shift. Quietly, Heather sat down at the computer to check the messages for the day. The only message was received from Doctor Jamieson. Heather searched her memory for the name, before giving in fruitlessly and read the message.
‘To Ensign Grant-Wellington From Ensign Jamieson
Hi you might not remember me but I’m one of the idiots who called in the guys at the sleepover. I was wondering if you would like to take a trip to DS9 with me tomorrow at 0900 hours we should be back in time for both our shifts. I have reserved a shuttle and have to pick up my cousins from DS9. Would you like to accompany me? If so please reply to this message before 0900.’
Heather grinned when she read the comment about alerting the guys at the slumber party. Now she could put a face to a name in her mind. For a moment she thought about the offer. In light of being not given much of a chance to pilot the Galaxy, the prospect of piloting a shuttle back to DS9 seemed appealing. Looking at the bottom right hand corner of the screen, she noted the time being 0328 hours.
“Computer?” she whispered.
The computer made its beeping noise in acknowledgement.
“Message for Doctor Autumn Jamieson.
To Doctor Jamieson
Thank you for the offer. I’ll meet you in the shuttle bay at 0900 hours.
Computer send message.”
The computer acknowledged. Yawning, she turned the computer of and prepared to collapse into her bunk.
***
Shuttle Bay 2
Autumn stood outside the shuttle “Tierra” waiting for Heather to arrive. Dressed in a black jumpsuit and a dark purple jacket with serviceable boots she was dressed casually enough to be able to control her cousins without them taking the mickey out of her uniform. Her mind was racing about what these next few weeks would bring. In her hand she held a small PADD with her Captain’s Authorisation and other notes for her cousins from their parents. Carrie was hopefully going to adapt easily to the starship but her main concern was Craig. Craig was use to Leslina waiting on him hand and foot… he would not like the fact that his older Cousin would not pay attention to his every whim. Autumn hoped Leslina had sent the children’s nanny along with them. If not she was going to program a holographic nanny to keep them in her quarters when they were not in school. Autumn looked up as the door slid open to reveal Heather racing into the shuttle bay, wearing a pair of navy coloured trousers with a matching tailored, double-breasted jacket that reached her waist. Autumn smiled as the young woman slowed and tried hard not to seem out of breath.
“Ready?” Heather heavied slightly.
“Yes. As ready as I’ll ever be” Autumn led the way over to the shuttle.
“Thanks Heather for do this. I owe you one.”
Heather smiled and followed close behind. When they reached the shuttle, Heather opened the door and went straight for the helm. Autumn stepped in and closed the door.
Heather immediately began ignition procedures, checking all the instruments and making herself comfortable. Once Autumn was settled in the co-pilot’s seat, Heather notified the bridge of her departure and activated the bay doors. Gently, the shuttle rose above the landing pad and nudged forward out the doors. As soon as they were clear of the Galaxy, Heather plunged the engines into warp on the heading where the wormhole was. Autumn checked her straps as Heather engaged the Warp drive. She watched as the stars seemed to melt into lines and gave a soft sigh before turning to Heather.
“So Heather having fun in Helm?”
Heather growled like a Klingon, then sighed. “It’s alright. I was hoping to pilot somewhat more than I am, though.” She paused. “I feel as if the captain doesn’t feel confident in my handling of the Galaxy under red alert.”
Autumn looked at her face and responded with “You do know that it might not be the captain’s lack of confidence but rather your superior officer’s own wish to take the glory from his fellow crew members and if he is who I think he is then he seems to spend to much time at Helm instead of other pursuits… He is in short a work-a-holic”
She paused and sighed again. “Anyway you’ll get more time eventually Just wait and see”
Heather nodded her head in agreement. There was a possibility the Chief Helmsman was mostly responsible for her not being given a full shift. “You know, it does make some sense. Though, regardless of who is truly responsible, I’m sick of having my shift wasted because of someone’s need to satisfy their quest for heroism in the eyes of his commanding officer.” Autumn laughed at this and nodded in agreement. “I know the feeling… We have a new doctor on board that seems to think that I am the biggest Bitch this side of Saturn’s rings. And he has never even met me. Let alone talked to him. I have heard that he prefers those of Russian descent or those with warrior attitudes or instincts. And as far as I know that leaves ninety five percent of the crew as his enemies.”
Heather expressed amusement at the doctor’s complaint. “Sounds like that Ruskie I’ve bein’ hearin’ about.” Heather giggled. “So, he likes those with balls, hah?”
“There’s a thought” Autumn snickered “ Betcha he doesn’t think about us gals like he thinks about the blokes… must be attracted to all the testosterone in their veins” She tried hard not to laugh.
Heather shook her head as she broke down in hysterics. She could tell this trip was about to turn into the bitchiest session of the galaxy.
“And he’s most likely not the only one. It wouldn’t surprise me if there’s a few others. Personally, I don’t know anyone yet, but I have crossed some… mmmm interesting ones along the way, and man….” Heather was now finding it truly difficult to stop laughing. She did know the odd person she’d love to bitch about, but she also wanted to keep her career.
“Interesting in what way Heather? As in crazy interesting or as in sexually interesting?”
“Let’s just say that some people I crossed both at the academy and back home in Brissie were crazy interesting. As for Galaxy? Interesting would be classified as something even the Borg would stay away from.”
Autumn laughed and started to say something before stopping and changing her mind.
“Do you know if the transmitters are working… cause if they are….” She trailed off.
Heather turned serious for a moment and checked the communication consoles. “Nup. I was required to follow radio silence once clear of the Galaxy. So, if you want to really get stuck into someone, go for your life.”
Autumn snickered again. “You are an Aussie huh Heather.”
“Oi Oi Oi!”
“Well done Mate!”
The two of them broke down in laughter. “Yep. I’m Aussie and a Queenslander and bloody proud of it. ”
Autumn gasped “Queenslander! Cool! Me too. I come from South West Queensland. You?”
“I’m from the Perfect One Day, Beautiful the Next city of Brisbane. South West, hah? Last I heard nothing much happens at thata way.”
Autumn just smiled and said “ That’s about right. But we survive. I went to Uni in NSW though. Before going to San Fran for Starfleet.”
Heather checked the instruments. “My family ended up moving to Sydney when I was fourteen because Mum excepted a professorship in medicine at University of Sydney and Dad was always off somewhere as a Starfleet scientist. I went to the University of New England to study social sciences, mostly in psychology before moving back to Brisbane which is now my home address. A year later at age 23 I went to the academy. So you can say I’ve being living in enemy territory against my will.”
Autumn nodded agreement. “yeah I know the feeling. University Of New England was just soooooo much fun!” She said sarcastically. “Being a Queenslander in NSW is like being a Romulan on Vulcan. But looks like we both survived though. I did the bachelor of Languages.”
“Ahhh, those were the days. Flaming freezing most of the year. Oh how I tried to go somewhere more friendlier and less controversial.”
“Agreed.” Autumn checked the console in front of her. “Eat one hour til we hit the wormhole. Think you can handle two hours with certified pests on the way back?”
“Well, after spending eight years living with blue cockroaches and agricultural rodents, I can handle many pests, provided we can hand them over to the Borg if they try to assimilate us.”
“My cousins would give the Borg Hives”
The two of them cracked up again and continued to bitch about personal life until they reached the Alpha Quadrant.
Alpha Quadrant
“DS9, this is the shuttle Tierra from the USS Galaxy. Permission to dock.” There was a paused before a deep, Klingon toned, masculine voice responded and gave them clearance to dock at docking bay 5.
“Thank you DS9” Heather replied and made the adjustments to the console. Autumn waited until they docked before getting out of her seat and standing up.
“I’ll meet you in an hour at Quarks after I rescue the crew of DS9 from my cousins’ wrath.” She left with a smile and a wave. Heather nodded her head as she acknowledged and completed the shut down, before she too stood up.
Once the both of them had departed the shuttle and the airlocks were secured, Heather made her way down to Quarks. The last time she was here, she was waiting for the Galaxy to arrive then had to make a quick dash to board her in her sudden departure. It had being an anxious couple of days, which she spent some of the time with associating with the various station crew members and her friend from the academy. She had even made time to witness the awe of the wormhole opening from the station’s reknown promenade.
Reaching the entrance to Quark’s, something she couldn’t miss for the flashing lights and the reactions of those playing the dabo tables. Casually, she approached the bar, observing the hype which fuelled the owner’s quadrant reputation. She had no longer taken a seat to watch indirectly, that Quark himself requested her drink order. Heather looked up him with a blank look, as she had not quite decided.
“She’ll have a synasol.” Came a friendly, familiar voice from behind her.
Heather spun around, her long red wavy hair flowing with ease and an expression of delight glowing in her features . “Indy!” She jumped up out of the stool and gave her friend a bear like hug. Indiana returned the cuddle pleasingly. Quark shook his head disapprovenly and moved on. Pulling herself back, she could not help but smile. “How ya goin’?”
“Great. I had a last minute reassignment and, well here I am.”
“So, it’s DS9 for you?” she resummed her seat and offered for her friend the stool beside her.
Indiana happily sat down, his smile so warm it filled Heather with a welcoming sense of relief. “Yep. I’m one of the new operations officers. It’s not flight control, but what can you do?”
“Write to me more. The Galaxy had positions recently and if I knew, I could of been able to put an application in on your behalf.”
Indiana shrugged and kept gazing helplessly at Heather. For some time now, he had deep feelings for her he knew would never be returned. She still had her heart solely attached to the memory of her late husband, even after five years, something he failed to truly to understand.
“I thought the Galaxy was in the Gamma Quadrant.”
“She is. Just one of the ensign doctors needed to make a personal trip to DS9, and I here because the good doctor requested for me to be her pilot.”
“But aren’t you a counsellor?”
“I’m a counsellor during alpha and a helmsman during gamma, and in between I’m buggered.”
The two giggled. Indiana could not believe how well Heather seemed to be doing. He rarely came across someone who worked two departments, let a known expected Heather to be one of them.
“How long are you here for?”
Heather checked her watch. “Just over half an hour. Then it’s a few hours back with a couple of rodents.”
“Kids? Who’s”
“There the doctor’s cousins. She’s babysitting while Galaxy deals with the Borg threat. We’ve decided that if the Borg threaten us, will hand them the little darlings for an assimulation they wish they never performed.”
“That bad?”
“Wouldn’t the foggest. Judging from what Autumn has told me, I’m not looking forward to meeting them.”
“Heather! Is there a hint of sacastist bitchness in that voice of yours?”
Heather looked frankly at him and kept silent. She then noticed the way in which Indiana was looking at her. Gradually, she began to feel sad inside. She so much wanted to let go of Michael and move on, but could not stop feeling that she would be betraying her loyalty, to the one man responsible for her being where she was now. Gently, she placed a soft palm against his face and looked at him sympathetically with her caring hazel eyes. Indiana closed his eyes and absorbed the warmth her hand possessed.
Elsewhere, Autumn walked down the corridor and checked the door numbers as she walked. Her boots’ heals tapped softly as she strode towards her cousins’ room. She paused in front of a door and knocked. A small voice called out “Its open!” ‘Carrie’ Autumn thought as she opened the door and stepped into the room. Her young cousins sat in the centre of a room surrounded by a huge amount of toys and clothes. Carrie’s long brown hair was messy and her brown eyes were filled with mischief. Craig sat with his legs crossed and his black hair was totally mussed. To the left sat a young woman with blond hair and green eyes. The look she sent to Autumn was a mixture of relief and tiredness.
“Hello Craig and Carrie” Autumn said her eyes roaming in disapproval over them and the state of the room. “Can you both pack this stuff up so we can get going?” She asked as she turned towards the younger woman.
“I am Autumn Jamieson. You must be the children’s nanny.”
“Yes my name Alisa Milton” She pushed the hair out of her eyes as the children started to pack up the stuff. “Am I glad to see you Ma’am”
“Really” Autumn replied calmly watching the activity. “Have they been giving you problems?”
“Well yes actually. They are being more trying then they normally would be.”
“How long have you been their nanny?”
“Six months”
Autumn gave a small sigh and thought ‘She won’t last much longer. The longest any nanny has lasted is about eight’
“Well if you and the children get ready we shall leave in an hour.” Alisa got up and began to help the children. Craig stopped and turned to his older cousin.
“Autumn.” His voice was imperious and demanding.
“Yes Craig?” Autumn asked cautiously
“I hope you have made appropriate arrangements for our stay. The living arrangements I hope are of better standard the this place.” His green eyes so much like her own looked disdainfully around the room ‘Oi!’ She thought. “Actually you will be sleeping in my quarters for the first night… then you’ll get a suite for the three of you.”
“You mean I have to share with Alisa?” He stamped his foot. “I refuse!” He snapped at Autumn, stepping up to her and glaring up at her. Autumn looked down her nose and tried hard to control her temper. “Craig Jamieson if you give me one iota of trouble while you are staying on Galaxy I will give you over to Security for training.” He just glared back at her and said “Autumn you will do no such thing. Mother would never approve.”
“News Flash Kid. Your Mother isn’t here. I am. And while you are on Galaxy what I or Captain Price says goes. Got it? Good!” She grabbed his shoulders and turned him back to his packing. “Now get going… We have to meet Heather in about forty five minutes.”
“Who is Heather?” Asked Carrie as she packed.
“Ensign Grant-Wellington is the pilot of the shuttle on which we shall be travelling.”
“A SHUTTLE?!?!” Craig and Carrie yelled together.
“There is no way we are travelling in such an undignified manner” Craig retorted his nose raised into the air. “We demand that we travel on a Starship.” Carrie added
Autumn rolled her eyes and said sarcastically “Well then I’m sorry but the Galaxy is kind of busy at the moment and the Enterprise just couldn’t fit you into their schedule. So you are stuck with a shuttle to your destination.” Autumn turned to Alisa and said “Have you done much space travel?”
“Yes Ma’am. Quite a bit”
“Good. Then you’ll know what to expect as we go through the wormhole.”
Alisa nodded amazed at how Autumn handled the kids. She had never seen anyone handle them with such calmness and such.. such rudness. But it seemed to work.
Forty- Five minutes later after Autumn had the lugage stowed and the kids ready she led the way into Quarks. She spoted Heather sitting silently with someone and walked over to her.
“Ready?” Autumn asked Heather, obviously wanting to make a quick exit. Heather solemly glanced up as Indiana reopened his eyes and released her hand.
“Can I meet you back at the shuttle in five?”
Autumn sighed impatiently and reluctantly agreed. Once she had forcefully ushered her spoilt tribe out of the bar, Heather returned her attention to Indiana.
“I wish I could of stayed longer.” She sighed disappointedly.
“Well, you now know where to find me.”
“Indy….”
He hushed her by placing a finger softly on her glossy, full lips. “Don’t. It will only make this departure harder. Go and don’t look back until the next time you’re here.”
Heather swallowed hard, trying with all her might to restrain her tears. Looking away, she rose slowly and departed without further a dew. Indiana gazed in the opposite direction feeling defeated once again.
By the time she returned to the shuttle, Heather had fully regained composure. Silently, she started the shuttle and requested permission to depart. Fifteen odd seconds later, DS9 gave their clearance and bid the Tierra a safe journey. Heather acknowledged and carefully guided the shuttle away from the space station. Plotting a course, she bought the shuttle around and headed for the wormhole. Behind her, Craig and Carrie wrestled with their restraints, obviously not impressed with spending the next few hours crammed up in a shuttle, that felt the numerous fluxes along the entire length of the wormhole. Heather glanced up at Autumn to gain indication of her level of tolerance. Autumn was busily watching the console in front of her and trying her best to ignore the little darlings.
Two hours into the trip, Craig and Carrie were finally allowed to get up and streched under the careful eye of their older cousin. By the third hour, Heather fulfilled a variety of scans to get her bearings. During one of the scans, she not only picked up the fleet in serious trouble, but also the Galaxy and a group of Borg ships.
“Hey Autumn? We’re heading right into some serious trouble. Do you want me to hold position until it is safe to proceed.”
At the time, Autumn was standing at the back of the shuttle. She raised a concern eyebrow and stepped up to the piloting console. “Is there some kind of window?”
Heather checked the sensor readings. “Negative. There’s Borg everywhere.” Autumn thought for a moment. Craig and Carrie went unusally quiet and Alisa turned pale.
“The Borg?” the two youngsters gulped.
“A lot of them.” Heather remarked.
“Hold position. We’ll wait here and see what happens.”
Heather dropped the shuttle out of warp and came to a gradual stop, still some hours from the Galaxy.
“But wouldn’t we be safer on a starship?” came Carrie.
“Don’t stop. I want to get on a starship right now.” Demanded Craig. Autumn was about to say something when Heather swang round in her seat and went seriously cold in her features.
“Now listen here you little shits. You are safer being back here at the moment. As far as we know, Borg could be inhabiting the starships at the moment and the long range sensors haven’t picked it up. If you want to survive your time with us, then I suggest you shut up, do as you are told and learn that demanding behaviour is only excepted from heads of departments and the captain. Should you carry on any more between now and the time we disembark, I will personally discipline you. Understood?”
Autumn glared frozen at Heather. She had not once antiscipated such a reaction from a woman she had perceived as calm, cool and collected. The youngsters were silent for a moment before breaking down in laughter. “We don’t have to do what you tell us. You’re not our mum or Autumn.” They both announced.
“Yes you will.” Autumn jumped in. “As pilot, Heather reserves the right to command of this vessel. What she says goes, or I will have to restrain the both of you and gag you as well.”
Craig and Carrie looked at their older cousin, wondering when she was going to back of metaphorically speaking.
“I’ll continue long range scans. While I am doing this, I would like it if everyone made themselves comfortable and keep well out of my way. Any interruption from a certain two some will result in dire consequences.” She leaned closer to the children. “And trust me, I can be as a cunning as a snake. I will take matters into my own hands regardless. Now, please, take your seats.”
Heather turned back to the console, hopeful that the children got the message. Disappointed, Craig and Carrie returned to their seats and began planning their next bout of mischief.
**** To Be Continued ****
Guest Starring: Lt jg Richard Carst, Security Officer (NPC)
Electra walked into the Security office and gazed around looking for the person who had been assigned to her case when she had first reported it. Her eyes skimmed over multiple desks where various ranking officers sat, typing reports into their terminals or heads bent over stacks of PADDs as they sorted them. Finally, at the far side of the room she spotted him sitting on the edge of a desk talking to a couple of other security personnel. She squared her shoulders and started determinedly in his direction.
“The clown can stay but the Ferengi in the monkey suit has to go.” Richard leaned back as his two colleagues burst into laughter at the old joke. He glanced over their heads and the sight that met his eyes had him wishing he had stayed in his quarters today. That Reece woman was bearing down on him with a determined look on her face and a PADD in her hand. This woman was a certifiable nut job in his opinion. She had come complaining about harassment and stalking, but all of the notes and gifts she had supposedly received had vanished. She claimed that these things were beamed into her quarters or delivered by hand by the perpetrator when she wasn’t there. But there were no computer records of any transports or door over-rides or even any sensor logs of anyone other than Reece herself in her quarters. Carst believed she just wanted attention. He had heard about the food fight she had started and there were rumors circulating the ship about her loose sexual tendencies. He had thought that she had understood that Security time and resources were not for games. But evidently her skull was even thicker than he had imagined. As she approached he asked his friends to excuse him and he remained perched on the desk with his arms crossed (unwilling to stand and have her tower over him), a mulish look on his handsome face. “Lieutenant Reece. What can I do for you?”
Electra flinched at the coldness in his tone. But she was determined. She held forth the PADD. “When I got off of duty, I went through my messages. This was the last one on my terminal. I hope you can help me this time.”
Richard took the PADD and glanced at it, preparing to dismiss it and her out of hand, until a few of the words caught his eye. He frowned and read it through twice. Then he looked up. “You received this today?”
“Yes. It was the last message on my terminal.”
“I will look into it and trace it, if possible.” Carst was unhappily, inwardly groaning over the probability of having to apologize to her after they found out she was really being stalked. “I will be in touch as soon as we know anything.”
Electra smiled. “Thank you.” With that handled, she returned to her quarters for a much needed nap.
To the Bridge
Manley carefully balanced himself at the ship jerked. He raised his eyes towards the ceiling with a few thoughts of what was happening on the bridge. With ease he walked back over to his chair of the Science Lab located on deck 5. It was like a second home. He had spent more time in this lab than he had on the bridge. Before him was a report of sorts. Manley was attempting to understand Admiral Janeway's virus a bit more. He was attempting to understand a lot of things. Yet, this was more important. Another jolt of the ship side tracked his thinking again and he raised his left hand to scratch the short dusty blonde hair upon his head. This was getting no where fast. He carefully turned his head towards the window of the lab that allowed him to look off. Dozens of Borg and suddenly a 'multi-colored' tunnel. He stood taking his work with him. Manley arrived at the turbo lift and secretly prayed to the Gods that he wouldn't be stuck inside the life. He hated being in small places for long periods of time. "Bridge," came the simple command. Perhaps he could be of some use there. The ride was short with only a few seconds passing by. The doors swished open and Ensign Manley stepped onto the bridge just into to hear Captain Lee's last request for the away team.
Guest Starring: Lt jg Richard Carst, Security Officer (NPC)
[ BEEP ]
[ BEEEP ]
[BEEEEP ]
[ BEEEEEEP ]
Electra bolted up in bed, finally hearing the chiming of the door. She rose and stumbled towards the portal, her uniform wrinkled and twisted. She pushed her hair out of her face and pressed the button that swished open the door. A five person Security detail was standing in the corridor. Heading the group was Lieutenant jg Richard Carst. He was glaring at Electra. "Come with us, ma'am. We can do this the easy way or the hard way." Electra stared at the man in shock.
"W-w-w-what is this about?"
Richard stared hard at her. "Easy or hard?"
"I-I-I...I-I-I-I...d-d-d-don't understand."
"Come with us, now."
Electra nodded dully, still not fully awake after her two hour long nap. She had no idea what was going on, but she didn't want trouble. She stepped into the corridor and fell in the center of the Security escort. They flanked her and calmly escorted her from her quarters to the turbolift. Upon entering, they made sure she was still in the center of their group and allowed the doors to close. Carst spoke, "Deck 38." As the lift began its journey, Electra closed her eyes and envisioned the map of the ship.
~ Okay, where are they taking me? Deck 38 is the security office, but I wouldn't need this major escort there. They aren't taking me to the armory. Or the cargo bays. Where? What else is on that deck? I should know. I just can't remember. I'm so tired. Deck 38... ~
While Electra was trying to figure out where they were going, the doors opened and the Security escort began herding her into the corridor and through a nearby door. Electra gazed around in shock at the cells staring her in the face. She was in the brig! Richard pushed Electra into a cell and one of the detail pressed the controls that established a forcefield in the doorway of the cell. Electra turned and stared in shock at the field and Carst. She wanted to fling questions at him but the words were getting lost somewhere between her brain and her mouth. That orifice simply opened and closed repeatedly, unable to make a sound.
Carst looked at her and glared. "You are charged with a deliberate misuse of Security personnel and resources. And filing a false claim. You will stay in the brig for six hours and this will be reported to your superior officer." Richard sneered at the woman still in shock. "You didn't even try to cover your tracks. We traced the 'message' you received. You used your own access code to send it to yourself from your station on the bridge. I am getting mightily sick of you. I hope you get counseling for this problem of wanting attention and the ways you try to get it. If you're lucky they bust you back down to ensign or transfer you to some horrible job. Don't try this again, Reece. Or you'll be in here for a lot longer than a few hours." Carst gave her one last glower before turning on his heel and leaving the brig, followed by three of the four escorts. The final one sat at a desk near the door and began working on paperwork while Electra slumped onto the bed in the cell, her head dropping to her chest, remembering the words of the note: WHEN YOU ARE BAD, YOU MUST BE DISCIPLINED TO LEARN YOUR LESSON. AND IT WILL BE A HARSH LESSON.
Electra understood. This was the reason the message hadn't disappeared like the rest. He had set her up to take the fall and look a fool. No one would listen to her again. They all thought she was just crying wolf for attention. Electra sat staring at the forcefield as the hours ticked by, growing more terrified and feeling more alone by the minute.
***Sickbay, USS Galaxy, 2374***
Counsellor Salshyar hardly noticed the change in scenery as the intership transporter beam tingled through her being and rematerialized her in Sickbay.
“Quickly! Get him on a biobed!” Doctor Tash moved back out of the way as Lasky and Collins lifted the still, clammy body of Lt. Mitchell off the sweat-stained floor and to a biobed. As Tash passed a bio-scanner over James’ heart, her brow wrinkled, and placed a modular chip on his chest, where part of his shirt had been torn away.
***Dream-state***
James floated in space, everything was dark around him, stripped of all his senses. His terror grew to ends he had never felt before. His life flashed before his tearing eyes in bits and pieces as he felt his life ebbing away. His bowels had long emptied themselves, as he continued to dry-heave.
“Jamie…..” He tried to twist himself towards the sound of the disembodied voice, but found he could not move. Out of the void above him, his mother’s disembodied face appeared. “Jamie… you’ve been a very bad boy…..you are going to need to be punished…. You’re Bajoran, and Bajoran boys don’t cry! How could you have failed me? How could I have failed as a mother?” His mother waved a long, slender finger at him, her nail grotesquely twisted into a needlesharp talon. She grazed her phantom hand across his cheek and his eyes grew right wide in fear, pools of moisture filling up over his irises. He tried to blink them out, but found his eyelids were being held open.
“Jim!” His father’s voice boomed out from the void, the voice of a father he never knew. The deep voice rattled in his head. “It’s your fault I died. You killed me!” His father stepped out from the darkness to stand beside his floating body. “Now, you will join me in this self-serving hell you left me in. I will make your life miserable!” The ruggish looking man was emaciated from lack of nourishment, body bruised and swollen with rashes and boils, his eyes ablaze with ire.
James tried to speak, but his throat was too dry, his coughing had drained him of precious body fluids. He knew he was dying….
“Jamie….Jimmy…..Jamie..…Jimmy…..” The chanting grew louder and louder as people from his past began to re-appear around him. His parents, whom he failed as a son, his fellow resistance members, whom he left behind to be killed as he ran away, the legless girl, who had helped him, but was repaid with blood, even those crewmembers from the Galaxy who had died in the Labrynth. They were all here, closing in on him. His fear and terror of not being able to run away was too much. His eyes rolled back in his head and everything went away…. With one last breath, he felt a slight ache in his chest, and he was at peace.
Then, a brilliance hit his face, and pain ripped through his chest like nothing he felt before. With a sharp intake of breath, his lungs filled up with precious air as they re-inflated, and his eyes burst open.
***Sickbay***
“Welcome back, Lieutenant. We almost lost you for a moment there.” James blinked hard to clear the fogginess out of his eyes as they adjusted to the dim light of Sickbay. His chest and stomach were killing him. He tried to focus on the voice, but couldn’t. His eyes hurt too much.
“Wha.. happ..happen…” He tried to speak, but the words only rasped out. He looked around at the blurry blue medical interns connecting him to various pieces of equipment, and he began to feel light-headed.
“Don’t move around too much.” A new voice entered his mind. “You lost a lot of body fluids, and we had to clear your system of those sleeping aids you took. You were only supposed to take half the dosage that was in your system. You could’ve gone comatose.”
James could only nod as his vision cleared. A hand brushed his hair back as he was being cleaned up. He then recognized his benefactor.
“Counselor..” His mouth was regaining its liquids, but his throat still hurt. “How did…?” He coughed and tasted blood on his tongue. It was a little tender on the tip.
“You bit down on your tongue pretty hard when you had your seizure. I had to shove my boot in there to keep you from biting it off.” She grinned as she saw James smile weakly.
“I always thought you’d kick me in the ass to get me in here, but I guess a boot in the teeth will have to do.” He tried to laugh and it hurt his ribs, so he grunted instead.
Salshyar got serious. “You were late for your physical this morning, so I went to pick you up and drag you here. Now if you’d done what you were told to, I wouldn’t have to take you off duty indefinitely.” James coughed as his eyes flew open and he tried to get up, only to be held back down by the two security guards that were still waiting nearby.
“What?! Why? You can’t keep me in here indefinitely! I’m needed up on the bridge!” James tried to struggle out of the bed, but then Tash came by and flicked a switch on the main medical console. He was yanked back down to the bed, and held down by a stasis field.
“You can’t do anything outside of this bed for at least a few days, Lieutenant, then I will leave you in the Counselor’s capable hands.” Tash glanced at Salshyar, who watched James closely.
“You’re right, Lieutenant, I can’t keep you here indefinitely. I’m going to have you transferred back to Starfleet Medical on Earth. You have some serious issues that need to be dealt with, and that makes you a liability here. I’m sorry. I’ll be in periodically over the next few days to talk to you about some of your issues, but consider yourself relieved. Captain Price will just have to find someone else to replace you as Chief Science Officer until you return, should you decide to do so.” Salshyar moved to leave. “Good luck, Mr. Mitchell. Get back on your feet quickly, we need you back here as soon as you can.” With that, she turned away, to feel James Mitchell’s eyes burning holes through her.
His career was now in shambles, and he never felt as much a failure in life as he does now.
***
Lt. James Mitchell
w/exerts from
Captain Price could see that time was once again back to normal. More Borg cubes were exiting the trans-warp conduit, with several heading this way towards the Federation fleet and the USS Galaxy. Glancing around the conference room, Lee could see the senior officers react to being reanimated once a gain.
"You heard?" the Captain asked quickly.
"Aye sir." Commander Thomas answered, "Every word."
"Let's get to our stations 'mates." the Captain ordered. Looking at Lieutenant' von Ernst, he added, "Get the armor raised, and contact the fleet and order an evacuation back to the alpha quadrant." Glancing over to Gustavson the Captain continued, "We will be staying here to try and protect the Dominion fleet as much as possible. When one of the Borg ships try to escape back through the conduit, we will try to follow."
Commander Thomas had been making arrangements for his away team mission, all the while the Borg were coming out to great them in force and do some more damage. Everything was about ready to break loose and someone of the ships shouldn't be here any longer then they had to be right now.
"Captain the Borg Cubes are continuing to stream out of the transwarp conduit." Lt. Rebecca von Ernst spoke with her best authority and clam, even through he was very concerned.
The USS Galaxy rocked again as another Borg cube fired upon her. In a moment, another destroyed that cube and then locked onto the Galaxy with a tractor beam.
["We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."]
The scene before them left everyone in sort of awe as they were faced with a most daunting task to deal with and for all their training nothing had prepared them for something like this. They would hopefully have the good fortunate to someone manage to live through this one and tell the grandchildren about it someday.
The Chief helmsman had the Galaxy swerving towards the USS Akagi's coordinates in no time. As the ship altered course, the main view screen gave a good pan-optic view of the battlefield. The trans-warp conduit had closed now, but there were still dozens of Borg vessels flying about, evading and attacking each other. It truly was a sort of Borg civil war going on.
While they were working to help the rest of the fleet escape, defend themselves. The ship was taking hits from the Borg every so often and it was eventually take its toll on the ship. The question was who would at last who, first.
Another violent strike jolted the ship, making it the third cube to fire on the Galaxy in the last ten seconds. The high tech ablative armor the Galaxy had been outfitted with was beginning to break down under the beating. Lieutenant Commander Peterson was surprised the Borg hadn't learnt to adapt to the new technology by now. The collective's ability to learn from each of its attacks and defeats was one of the things that made them such a dangerous enemy. But evidently whatever was disconnected in the collective consciousness, whatever was causing each separate Borg cube act as an independent hive unto itself, must be limiting their effectiveness in ship to ship combat. For no one cube got more then one chance to 'observe' multi-phasic torpedoes before they were destroyed.
"Captain, we could always withdraw. If the armor fails, the Galaxy looses her defensive edge. And we are probably running low on torpedoes by now." Commander Thomas commented. As First Officer, it was Chris' duty to point out options to the Captain and to look out for the safety of the officers and the ship. "If we loose the armor and are assimilated or destroyed by the Borg, the Galaxy is of no use to the Federation sir."
At the tactical station, Lieutenant' von Ernst looked up at hearing the XO point out the low number of special torpedoes they had remaining. Inwardly she was glad, since she wouldn't have to be the one to bring it to the Captain's attention.
At Ops, Lieutenant Commander Surok pointed out, "The Borg are opening a new trans-warp conduit Captain."
The Captain had been right, with enough the Borg ships damaged or destroyed by their own hands and with a little help from the Galaxy the Borg were leaving for another venue. The question of course would be were and did they really want to follow the Borg into the conduit?
Then the order came, one that no one thought they'd every hear.
"Mister Gustavson, I never thought I'd give this order, but follow that Borg cube." Captain Price stated while pointing at one of the trailing Borg vessels.
Commander Thomas was beside himself at the moment. Follow a Borg cube, it was almost cliche in the words, but the nature of giving chase to a Borg cube probably would have never crossed anyone's mind in a million years.
The Galaxy was giving chase to a Borg cube and closing the distance. But was that such a really good idea, given what they'd seen going on between the Borg and the Borg. Not really, but the other options were even less pleasant to think about and so they would do the unthinkable.
"Miss von Ernst, lock a tractor beam onto that vessel and let's all hold on for an interesting ride." Price ordered.
"I'll need to lower the armor sir..." Rebecca reminded.
Lee's eyes flickered towards Chris for a moment, and then he stated, "Do it 'mate. Replace the ablative armor with shields and activate tractor beam."
"An away team sir?" Commander Thomas asked.
"Aye. Assemble a team to beam over to the cube we are tailing. We need to tap into their collective consciousness and scan their databanks to try and gather more information on this futuristic virus that Admiral Janeway introduced. It's the only way we will be able to figure out how to undo the damage and set the Borg straight to stop this predatorily aggressive behavior."
"I understand Captain. Since the Borg were acting very aggressively on the Romulan ship, I think it's safe to assume they will not simply ignore any presence on their own ship. I will make sure the team is well armed with the new phaser weapons that should be harder to adapt to." Commander Thomas stated.
"Take whomever you need 'mate. It's critical that we get in, get the information we need, and get out quickly. We have no idea how long we will be riding in the conduit. It may be minutes; it may be hours. But if the Borg exit while the away team is still on their vessel, we might not be in a position to get you home."
"Believe me, no one will be over there any longer then necessary. I can pretty much guarantee that." Chris smiled.
"Go assemble your team then 'mate. The fate of the Federation and maybe even the galaxy depends on your success." Lee finished.
Chris nodded and then glanced around the bridge in preparation to assembling his away team.
With having already made his decision about the away team, it didn't take him long to speak up about who would be on this away team run. "Lt. Commander Peterson, Lt. Commander Savat your with me." Chris said as he proceeded up the ramp and headed for the turbolift. "Let's go!"
Commander Thomas decided to add two more members to the away team and that would be it, even with the risk of being trapped on the Borg cube. He didn't want to put any more people's lives at risk then was required to, to get the job done. "Lt. Corgan and Commander Mass please report to transporter room 2."
With that the three of them departed the bridge and headed for the weapons locker. Then they would make their way to transporter room 2 and beam over to the Borg cube.
--------
10-forward is really quite a nice place to eat, drink and chat. Especially in times between battles. However it was so short break, that Vladimir had only ability to drink some coffee. He hasn't slept for 2 days and surely was hoping to go to his room and fall on the bed. But, by Murphy's law (If bad thing can happen, it will happen) in was just the reverse.
Malgin's commbadge beeps. He swore and tapped it. Voice of ensign Cooper says "Cooper to Malgin."
"Malgin is here"
"I'm afraid, I must break your relax. Borgs are once again attacking us"
"OK, I'll be in sickbay ASAP. Malgin out."
Without thinking, he quickly finishes his coffee. Actually, he was absolutely sure, that Medical Staff can handle it without his presence, but he had to go. He groaned and thought "One more Borg attack, and I'll surely either die or go insane.". He then stands up and goes to sickbay.
As he has expected, there is still no wounded. Some time passes and first patients arrive - two Tactical guys with broken hands. Malgin focused on one of them.
"So, our first patient is ensign?..." said Malgin, examining him.
"Brian McCune... Doctor what is there with my arm?" asked patient.
"Hmmm... Nothing very serious. Just fracture of forearm. I'm afraid, you have to wear bandage for some time. How did you managed to make so?"
"When ship jolted we fallen on the floor... Auch, doctor! That hurts!"
Vladimir turns to nurse and ask her to give him a bandage. Then he places it on McCune. "It seems that you have nothing more. Come to sickbay in 7 days. If it will hurt, come here. Any questions?"
"No, doctor" answered McCune.
"Then you may go. I'll contact your Chief and tell about you consistence. Good bye!"
Nothing seems to be bad in this battle... for now.
-------------
Electra sat slumped on the cot in the brig cell, five hours and fifty-six minutes having passed. She shivered, not with cold but with dread. Uncontrolled and uncontrollable tears slipped down her face. She was oblivious to her surroundings as she had been since Carst had left. Her mind was locked in a downward spiral of fear and depression. She didn't even notice the man who entered the brig and spoke to the ensign on duty before walking over to look into her cell.
Speaking of downward spiral, James was not feeling like his old gloomy self as usual. Instead, he felt like a frightened and GLOOMIER self than usual. Borg always messed with his mind, and this time he felt like he was going to get swamped in fear from the mechanical nightmares. He even felt he would be literally swamped by the Borg, now faster and meaner than ever.
It made him shudder.
As he entered the brig, he stopped to meet the only other officer on duty, Ensign Astrid Salt. The last time he meet her, they were fighting side by side against Cardassians. He hoped that he could count on her when it got dangerous with the Borg.
"Hi." James peeped.
"Hi... sir." She raised her head out from a padd to greet Lieutenant Corgan, "Congratulations on the new promotion."
"Thank you, Astrid." He said, consciously looking at his brand new pip, "It's nothing... just a little gaffe at Starfleet's administration department, but I can't complain. I haven't seen you since Bajor. What the hell's happened to you?"
"Well, sir... I just got called a man by that cowboy that's been strutting around. Boy, I would like to show him where he can stick his spur..."
Lieutenant Corgan heard a faint sob from one of the cells. He looked at one cell, with a drunken cook inside. He didn't seem to be crying, but instead he held his forehead and complained about something called a 'hangover'.
~~"No sobbing there."~~ He thought.
His eyes checked over the other cells for the source of the sadness, always careful to find any subtle clues.
Empty....
Empty...
Empty...
Ensign Connely....
Empty...
Lieutenant Jg. Electra Reece...
Empty....
~~"What the hell? Electra Reece in a cell?~~ His brain paused to choke down the information that proved to be contradictory. ~~"I heard she's trouble but I thought that was all bullsh*t."~~
"Astrid, do you know what she is in for?" James politely asked.
"Yes sir." She snapped, "She's in for wasting security's resources. She only has a few minutes left."
"You're kidding me? How does one waste resources when we're sitting here waiting for the Borg to finish us off while we are doing jack and sh*t?" James questioned.
"I don't know, sir. I heard she sent a threatening letter to herself."
"Well that's strange... I'm going to talk to her if you don't mind."
"Go ahead, sir. You don't need to ask from me."
"Sorry, It's just that I'm not used to being a higher rank than anybody, oh and is there a copy of the letter around here?"
"Sure, why?"
"Because I want to see something other than reports about the Borg."
James picked up a padd from the brig's control station. He took a brief scan at the letter, and finding it shocking to the core. ~~"How could somebody be this... strange?"~~ He pondered as he read the threatening letter. The words that he didn't like the most came last; a comment about 'punishing' her. He looked at the large huddled figure of Electra Reece in her cell, shedding tears and muffling her sobs.
"This is his idea of punishing her?" He thought, "Sick bastard."
He looked at every detail on the padd, and from what he could see that was as close to her as the message could get. Her identifying signatures on the message were everywhere, but it also didn't make sense. Why would she send a message to herself and waste security's time?
"Computer, where was Lieutenant Junior Grade Electra Reese at the time the message on this padd was sent?" James asked the computer.
The flat female voice of the computer replied, "Electra Reese was on deck 12, section 28."
"Computer," Lieutenant Corgan continued, "did the message originate from an LCARS panel on deck 12, section 28?"
Almost predictably, the computer replied, "Affirmative."
"Well... that does say she send it..." James paced, "But why? If it wasn't her, who would have the knowledge to do such code cracking? Awwww hell, I wish I took engineering as my minor and not tactical, otherwise I could pin this bastard down..."
On the screen of the brig controls, a message flashed on. It read, "Lieutenant Jg. Electra Reece, sentence served." It was time to let her go for whatever she did, if she did it. James walked up to the brig controls and pressed a button, releasing the forcefield on cell 6. He expected Electra Reece to be relieved that she had to go.
Only she didn't. She still huddled on her bunk and cried.
"Oh crap..." He groaned and rolled his eyes up. He didn't like having to be the one to talk to people, even if it was the person that saved him from an interrogation from mutinous crewmembers or the one that bothered to actually listen to him when he thought the crew was acting strange, but it has been a habit lately for people to run into him with problems. There was first Lieutenant Von Ernst with her lesbian love problem and then Ensign Kotobuki who almost vaporized his head because he lost his fiancée. Now it was Lieutenant Reece who has a persistent stalker problem. If he didn't know better, he thought that he was getting good at this kind of thing.
He also noticed that all these problems sprouted from one basic theme... love.
~~"It's no wonder I don't believe love works. Always a problem, always messing with people's lives."~~ He reflected, ~~"Better try to help this poor lost soul before she loses it."~~
James carefully approached the cell, hoping that Electra wouldn't snap at him or go even more hysterical. She stayed in her huddled position, crying away whatever was bothering her. James thought to leave her be, but he couldn't. The more humane side of him wanted to help. He walked into the cell, and put his hand on her shoulder. It was like she didn't even notice; she still cried in her lap.
"You're free to go, Miss Reece." James invited her out. Still, no response. She sobbed there like a small child.
"Can I help you with anything?" James asked, hoping this time he could get an answer.
From a long way off, Electra heard muffled sounds and thought she felt a hand on her shoulder. Gradually, the words became clearer. ~ Help me?~ She looked up, tears still streaming down her pale cheeks. ~ James Corgan? ~
"J-j-j-j-james? Are y-y-y-you h-h-here to l-l-l-let me out? They think I-I-I-I'm c-c-c-craz-z-zy. I s-s-s-swear. I d-d-d-d-didn't d-d-d-do this. P-p-p-please b-b-b-b-believe m-m-m-meeee." Electra held out a hand to him.
James took hold of her hand and smiled lightly, wishing she would stop crying. "I believe you. But the evidence seems clear."
Electra looked at him. "Please, h-h-help me. N-n-no one else w-w-will and I know h-h-he's g-g-g-going to h-h-hurt me."
"Sure, what can I do for you?" Lieutenant Corgan asked in his polite tone.
Electra blinked back her tears, hopeful. "Find him. Please. He told me he would punish me. And look what happened. I'm in the brig. Carst thinks I set this up. He told me that I would get transferred or something. Please help me, James. Help me to find this guy. I thought it was Marx...but it can't be. During some of the worst of it, he was in a coma in sickbay. Carst thinks I am loony and want attention. And that the rumors that Marx spread are true. Will you help me figure this out and stop this? Please." Electra gazed at him pleadingly.
Corgan swallowed. He really didn't want to be a knight in shining armor but he was getting used to it. And it did feel kind of good. "Yeah, I'll help you. I mean, you saved my life. I'll find him. But I don't know the technical stuff very well. We might need to find someone to help us trace it and find him. But we will."
Electra beamed. ~ I'm not alone. ~ "Thank you."
"Let's get you out of here." He took her elbow and escorted her past Salt to the door. Before the doors finished opening, James' comm-badge chirped out the voice of Commander Thomas saying, [Commander Thomas to Lieutenant Corgan]. He pushed her into the corridor as he hung back and slapped his comm-badge and responded.
["Corgan here, sir."] He replied.
["Lieutenant Corgan, you are wanted in transporter room 1"] Commander Thomas ordered.
Electra overheard the order and shuddered. She was alone after all.
["Aye, sir. Corgan out."] James tapped his badge off. He just about left suddenly until he remembered Lieutenant Reece, still grief stricken as she walked slowly down the corridor.
"Miss Reece..." James stuttered, "I'm sorry I have to leave like this, but I guess they want me to face my fears once again, so to speak. If I survive this next crazy away team mission that I have to go through, then I'll help you take care of this stalker. If I die or become assimilated... you and Lieutenant Von Ernst can have my music collection, except for the guitar. The guitar goes to my sister Courtney back in New Orleans."
"I'll see that she gets it, James." ~ If I'm still alive when you get back. ~ "Thank you for your help."
"Don't mention it. Just save a prayer for me, and I'll save one for you. See you later, I hope." James choked with a bit of sorrow. He felt like he was going to die out there, and the last one to see him was an acquaintance with a stalker problem he couldn't fix. He hoped that he could live through this, or she would live a living hell under the tyranny of the invisible lover.
Lieutenant Corgan ran off quickly, towards the direction of the turbolifts as Electra shuffled down the corridor in the opposite direction.
(with cameo appearances by Lt. Cmdr. Savat and Dr. Malgrin)
The long sinewy fingers checked for a pulse.
"She is breathing."
A medical Tricorder was passed over her body. Then the cold sensation of the hypospray against her exposed neck.
Instantly, her eyes fluttered open and looked into the gaze of Lt. Cmdr. Savat.
If she didn't know better, she could have sworn he wore a worried look. But he was Vulcan, and the Chief Security Officer. He was just doing his job.
Ensign Wej sat up and took a deep breath, which resulted in a fit of coughing.
The young medical officer supported her shoulders, Dr. Malgin. Samthia had met him briefly during orientation.
Mister Savat, however, was more concerned with the events that transpired in sickbay, now that the Deltan stellar cartographer was sufficiently revived.
"Please help Ensign Wej to sickbay."
Dr. Malgin looked at the Chief Security Officer and mouthed one word "Romulans."
"Of course." Mister Savat acknowledged. "Since she seems to be otherwise unharmed, please escort her to her quarters."
The two men helped Samthia to her feet.
"How do you feel?"
Samthia blinked several times to clear her vision. "I think I'm seeing stars."
"It will pass in a few minutes." Malgin predicted.
"Can you recount what happened Ensign." Savat was more interested in the cause, rather than the effect.
Wej bit her lip considering how much she should reveal. She recalled the disdain with which Lt. Reece had met when she reported a possible stalker was aboard the Galaxy. Hesitating to reveal that she was hearing voices in her head, Wej opted for the cold facts. She recounted how the comm. had not responded, that the room began to fill with gas and that the doors to stellar cartography had been locked and finally how she managed to use the manual override to escape stellar cartography as it transformed into a gas chamber.
Savat listened intently and then instructed Wej to remain in her quarters until she fully recuperated.
Weak from her experience, she acquiesced and allowed Dr. Malgin to escort her to her quarters as Cmdr. Savat disappeared into the dark cavern that was now Stellar cartography.
=^=
Ensign Samthia Wej
After leaving sickbay Rose went right to Raven's office, if this was the same person who did it on the Yorktown because of the man's obssession with her, then we got trouble. She knocked on the door and waited for him to answer while seeing if her hair and makeup was ok.
Inside, Raven jolted awake, startled out of his sleep by the knocking at the door. He saw that while he was asleep, the Ensign in the brig with him had covered him with a blanket.
Slightly embarassed, he shoved the blanket into his desk drawer, wiped the wet spot off his desktop where his face had lain and called out: "Come in."
The ship's Betazoid science officer walked in and closed the door behind her.
"What can I do for you Lieutennant?" Raven asked.
Rose looked at him, "I heard about the murders sir. I think I know the person. About a year ago on the USS Yorktown a young medical officer murdered some of my closest friends trying to get to me, he was obsessed with me and I think he's on the Galaxy trying to get to me again.
This caught the Indian's attention. "Please, have a seat." he gestured to the open chair then continued. " This man from the Yorktown..."
"Victor Wilson" Rose said, figiting slightly.
"What makes you think that Wilson is on this ship? Has he contacted you? Have you seen him?" Raven asked trying to reign in his intense curiosity as he waited for the computer to bring up the requested Starfleet file on the name that Rose had just given him.
"No, but the murders are the same way that happen on the Yorktown, and I want to help you out in the best way I can sir." Rose told him.
The computer finally brought up Wilson's picture, Raven swiveled the monitor so that Rose could see. "Is this the man your speaking of?"
Rose looked at the picture, a sad look went across her face then she looked up at him, "Yes, Raven that's him."
The Indian scanned through the file on Victor, paying particular attention to the series of deaths on the USS Yorktown, Rose's former assignment. He had remembered that all the victims had one area in common that they all frequented..Science. That was also Rose's department.
He downloaded the details on the Yorktown deaths including autopsys and personel files of the victims.
"I'll run his picture through the computer. If he's onboard, we'll know it. Till then keep your eyes open. If you see him at all hail me immediatly. I'll be there in seconds. Don't confront him in any way."
Rose nodded.
"If you like, we can place a guard outside your room untill were sure that he isn't on the ship."
"That's nice of you but I don't think so, my friend." Rose said trying to smile.
"We'll have an officer patrol the hallway of your apartment periodicly just to be safe." he said standing. "Whatever we find, we'll let you know immediatly."
"Thank you." Rose said, a bit tired.
"That's what were here for." Raven said escorting her to the Brig doorway.
"Thanks you so much my friend have a good shift." Rose said with a smile then walks off towards her room hoping for a good night and peaceful sleep if the gods would let her.
NPC’s: Craig Jamieson, Carrie Jamieson and Alisa Milton as well an unidentified male officer on the Galaxy.
Autumn and Heather sat quietly in their seats waiting for the scanners to read the all clear. “So what now Heather?”
“We either sit here and wait to see what happens, or…” she paused for emphasis. “Or we could break radio silence and let the Galaxy know we’re out ‘ere, which means Price is going to have us for breakfast.”
“But wouldn’t that alert the Borg to our presence? And I think that would be worse then Price.”
“ALERT THE BORG!!!” Carrie yelled “Are you two crazy?”
Autumn and Heather turned as one and both had looks on their face’s of ‘sit down and shut the fuck up!’
“Carrie Eloise Jamieson! This is your last warning. IF Heather or I have to talk to either of you again I’ll personally let Captain Price deal out the punishment. And even your mother can’t stop it.”
Heather cringed at Autumn’s tone, knowing full well what the General could be capable of. But she didn’t feel an iota of pity for the little whingeing rodents.
“Yep we’re crazy, but we are the only thing standing between you and the Borg, so if you don’t mind we would like to continue our discussion without your two cents.”
Craig snorted defiantly. “What are two ensigns going to do against those Creatures?”
“How would you like to visit them Craig?” Autumn asked ever so casually. Alisa tries to hide her smile behind her hand, but Craig spotting it, scowls at her.
Heather raises an annoyed eyebrow, trying to withhold her growing intolerance of these astronomic pains in the arse. Turning back to the console, Heather decided to take the risk and contact the Galaxy.
“Federation Starship Galaxy. Shuttle Tierra. Respond.”
There was a long silence before the officer manning the ops station on Galaxy responded via audio only.
“Shuttle Tierra is about an hour from your present position. Requesting instructions.”
Another silent period followed, which made Heather wonder what condition the Galaxy was in since they left.
“Hold Position. We are determining your status in relation to our mission”
“What the hell…” muttered Autumn under her breath as the connection was severed.
Heather sighed. “So much for that option.”
“He wouldn’t,… would he Heather?”
“What?”
“Leave us here and go after the Borg.” Autumn looked out at the stars and glanced back at her console in a very casual way, so as not to alarm the children.
Heather considered the possibility for a moment. “God I hope not.”
“Me too, me too.”
Heather checked the scans for the status of the fleet. “If I’m reading this right… we are a few ships down on our original quota.”
“How many down?” Autumn asked keeping her voice down.
“ oh not too many… four.” Heather winced.
“Four? Dare I ask which ships?”
Heather checked her screen and answered. “Katana, Regina, Antioch, and Caladon.”
“Oh shit!” Autumn hissed softly.
“Stuff this waiting around. I’m going to take us home. Are you kids strapped in back there? Good. Any objections?”
Autumn shook her head and checked on the kids. “Take us home Heather.” Forty minuets later Galaxy finally called back.
“Shuttle Tierra. This is Galaxy. Standby. We are presently holding our position awaiting the Captain and Q’s inclination and orders.” Autumn hit the mute button. “Why don’t they just get Q to teleport us on board?”
Heather shook her head, unamused. “I’ve never met him, but from what I’ve been told it wouldn’t be a bright idea.”
“Anything is preferable to the Borg in my opinion Heather.” She re-established the link.
Heather went to say something to Autumn but changed her mind. “Galaxy , can you speed it up so we can land?” Heather said instead. “I’ll see what we can do.”
“Even Q would be a help.” Autumn muttered under her breath.
“I Heard That Ensign.” Replied the disembodied voice from Galaxy.
Autumn rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue at the speaker. Heather watched on in total disbelief.
“Well Sir we would even take a lift from the Cardies at the moment. All we want is to get home.” Autumn replied. “I think Ensign Grant-Wellington needs to get back to her shift.”
“We are working on it. Please state your location Shuttle Tierra.”
Heather replied. “We are standing off your Port quarter. We should be in visual range Galaxy. Give us another fifteen minutes and we’ll be almost sitting in your lap Sir”
“Are we there yet?” Asked a small voice from behind them. Heather bit her lip. Autumn sighed as the chorus went up. “Are we there yet!” The two children repeated over and over.
“SIR. Any news on when we can land. Please!!” Autumn all but begged.
“Pretty Please!” Heather added, longing clearly written over her features. A long pause followed and Autumn was sure that the officer was contemplating wether or not to allow the brats on board.
“Do you think they’ll let us on board?” She asked Heather underneath all the noise in the back of the shuttle. Neither girl realised that the comm was still active, broadcasting across the entire Bridge.
“With that racket I doubt it.” Heather waved her thumb over her shoulder at the kids.
“Right.” Autumn got up and turned towards the two kids. “Now listen up you two and listen good!” Craig and Carrie looked at her with defiance on their faces. “I have had about enough of you two being snotty, stuck up, spoilt little shits. Heather check the nearest Cube’s position will ya?” Heather nodded with a smile and made a show of checking her console. “Yep” Autumn stalked towards the children. “How would you two like to visit the Borg. Up close and all too personal?… I know of someone who could arrange it with a snap of his fingers” Heather giggles in the background. “Ever heard of someone named Q?”
Craig shook his head and Carrie looked at her brother for some assistance. “Q is somewhat of a …. How do I phrase this Heather?”
Heather screwed her face up in thought. “Can’t really say.. he is …a pest really… the kind that you’d like to exterminate.”
“Careful Heather He might be listening. But I don’t think even Q can compare to you two in full flight. He makes the Borg look like kittens and you two make Q look like a teddy bear.” Heather rolled her eyes and went back to the console she was opting to stay out of this one. But she did make a comment…
“Autumn… the comms still active.”
“MERDE!” Autumn collapsed into a giggle fit.
After a brief pause word came through to the shuttle. “Standby for docking clearance”
“Thank you Galaxy” Heather replied.
Few minuets later Shuttle Tierra docked in shuttle bay 2. Once it was all shut down Heather said her good-byes and made a quick exit.
“Heather I owe you one BIG time.” Autumn called after her. Heather took one look over her shoulder and said “You bet your life you do.” And she smiled as the doors slide shut.
“Yeah I guess I do.” Autumn answered as she got the kids and their stuff together.
The Chief Science Officer sat quietly at Science Station One. The entire situation in this current mission was getting more taxing and unusual as it progressed - one that no officer would possibly wish on their worst enemy. If the situation involving the mysterious encounter between the Dominion and Borg was not enough to get the adrenaline going, then the Romulans were thrown in for good measure.
Now, to top things off, there was the appearance of a member from the infamous and meddlesome Q Continuum - an omnipotent race of extra-dimensional beings. Kent had never encountered Q, though it seemed obvious from other members of the senior staff that they had, but he knew about how Q had forced the meeting between another Galaxy-class vessel, the Enterprise-D, and the Collective. In some ways he was not sure if he should be grateful of that or not.
Was Q responsible for introducing the Federation to the Collective and thereby warning Starfleet of alerting the Borg to the presence of the Federation? It was a hypothesis he could not hope to answer. Still, either way, Starfleet would never have known what kind of threat the Borg had posed until that fateful moment more than a decade earlier.
The chief scientist distracted himself by returning to the report prepared by Lieutenant Quevvenson. The young man had been the only member of the science department on the away team led by Commander Thomas - a team responsible for rescuing the Romulans from their vessel before it exploded. Although the science department had gathered a lot external information, he was interested in the internal scans and other information gathered.
He found it a genuinely interesting. Still, Kent hoped to catch Wilhelm to hear his personal, as opposed to his professionally, impressions of the alien vessel. In his years in Starfleet the thirty-three year old lieutenant commander had never seen the inside of a Romulan warbird - infact only a relatively small number of Starfleet officers had.
"Excuse me sir," a gentle voice said, breaking the connection Peterson had with the sounds of the beeps and whirls coming from the computer console. "Could I have a moment of your time?"
Kent finished the sentence he was up to on Quevvenson's report, but before he turned around he already knew who it was. Leaving the away team report on the science station screen and swung around on the swivel chair where his blue eyes met those of Lieutenant Rose MacAllen's. The young Betazoid woman clasped her hands together as though she was nervous - a little fidgety of sorts.
"Of course. Is there a problem Lieutenant?"
"There's no problem," Rose replied as she let her arms fall to her waste side. "I was just wondering whether or not you had heard from Lieutenant Commander Genestra or not."
"The archaeological symposium on Betazed, your home planet," 'Commander Peterson remarked, nodding his head as he recalled the details of the conversation with the former assistant chief science officer. "He did, though I was not aware that he had spoken with you on this matter."
Lieutenant MacAllen nodded her head gently. "He mentioned something about it the last time we spoke via subspace sir. The 'Commander asked whether or not I minded if he asked you that I could attend as a representative for the ship."
"You are the sub-department head for archaeological sciences so I don't see why not. After all, this ship is the premier starship of her class, so it would be only fitting we send you."
Rose smiled as a wave of relief came over her. Not only was she pleased to get the break she had hoped for, but she could return home and see Evin all at the same time. "Thank you 'Commander," MacAllen said with a little of that relief coming through in her tone.
"That's all right Lieutenant. Is there anything else?"
"No sir. That was all I wanted to ask." Rose added, "Actually I really have to get something done right now so I should be going."
"Have a good day then," Kent said.
The empath smiled again before making her exit from the aft Bridge stations, passed the tactical station and heading towards the primary turbolift door. As she department the Chief Science Officer returned to the report he had been reading before Rose appeared.
Reaching across his chest the lieutenant commander tapped the standard issue Starfleet communicator, "Peterson to Quevvenson ...."
w/appearances by Commander Mass & by Lt. Commander Savat
Commander Thomas along with Savat and Peterson were enroute to the weapons locker to get ready for the mission. Chris had also signaled for the CMO and Lt. jg Corgan to join the away team party. He wasn't sure why he wanted the doctor there or even if the doctor wouldn't choose to bow out at the last minute.
Chris didn't say much for the first part of the ride as they soon arrived at the weapons locker and disembarked from the turbolift. This would be a mission to retrieve information they needed, but the risk were high.
"Alright, we're going to be on board a Borg vessel and there's the possibility of getting trapped over there or having to consider other ways out of a unpredictable situation." Chris said. "I believe we should all care at least two weapons, if not three just in case." the first officer said glancing at the other two walking beside him.
Peterson glanced over at Commander Thomas. The feeble attempt at a joke sounded so much like what he had heard about the infamous Commander Casey - someone notorious for laughing and smiling at inappropriate times. Kent never met the man but he knew it was someone he would not have liked. Then again, he did not like Thomas much either so it was a poor comparison. The lieutenant commander simply glanced over at Mister Savat who no doubt found the attempt at humor completely illogical. He just waited for the Chief of Security of say something to that effect.
Savat remained stoic in his appearances as he listened to what everyone else had to say, but chose to say nothing at this point.
"As I told you earlier when I spoke with you on the bridge our mission is simple, collect as much data as possible, without getting ourselves assimilated." Chris said in a joking manner.
With another few footfalls they entered the weapons locker, were Lt. Corgan was already there waiting for them.
"Lt. Corgan, glad you could join us." Chris said.
"Thank you sir," James bowed his head slightly, "Though I wish the circumstances were quite different, if I may say so sir."
"We were just discussing the weapons we should take for this mission." Commander Thomas said.
"Sir, if I may?" James spoke up.
"By all means, Lieutenant. What do you have to say?"
James didn't like being the center of attention, especially in front of the commanding officer. There was always the objective stare from the higher ranks, the tone of voice that sounded inquisitive and penetrating at the same time. Almost like his ideas were being looked over by a microscope and criticized.
Then again, his suggestions could save lives. He had to say something.
"Sir, I took the liberty of taking along a few... items" Lieutenant Corgan said, producing a bundle with the Starfleet logo. He unwrapped the cloth bundle, producing from it five Federation standard combat knives.
"Boot knives?" Lieutenant Commander Savat raised his eyebrow.
Lieutenant Corgan predicted the criticism would happen, so he explained before the whole idea would be shot down, "Sirs, the Borg can adapt to energy weapons, but they can't adapt to solid matter. I suggest you use these if these fancy new phasers fail us. I would have replicated some old fashioned slug throwers, but I didn't have the time."
Each officer grabbed a dagger, placing it in their belts. All except Lieutenant Commander Peterson.
"They're Starfleet marine issue, sirs." James continued with his explanation, "They have a mono-molecular edge, so be fragging careful with them. I suggest if you all are going to use them in close combat, you should avoid the arms and go right for the tubes on their neck and chest. Also, go for the eyepiece. That'll stun them momentarily."
"You've done your research, Lieutenant." Commander Thomas commented, impressed by Corgan's thinking.
"I am not taking one of those," Kent protested as he lifted the bladed weapon up and inspected it more closely. "I think you'll find that this isn't really going to do much if they've changed their composition of their armor. After all, you said it yourself Lieutenant'," the scientist added, "they adapt. Whose to say it will penetrate the metallic composition of their body armor?"
"They're a last resort, and yes you're right that they'll not do much good if you're having to fight close range. They're more suited in this case to be used as a throwing weapon. Which if thrown properly the should allow you to bring a Borg down, if I am guessing right these have a micro explosive impact tip." Commander Thomas said.
"Regardless," the native of Colorado said with a skeptical tone. Despite the 'argument' for the Chief Science Officer left the dagger left for him with the junior grade lieutenant. It just seemed to be like trying to cut a brick with a butter knife - a long shot.
"I just don't want a repeat of Typhon, sir." James said, remembering his experience with the Borg.
Peterson stopped for a moment. Whether he realized it or not he was not giving the younger man as much credit as he deserved. He was still highly skeptical about the whole dagger business, but it was more comforting to know that there was someone else in the away team that actually knew and had seen what they were up against.
"I see Dr. Mass hasn't arrived yet." Chris said.
The waited another minute and then Dr. Mass finally arrived to get ready for the away mission.
They were finally ready to head to the transporter room and beam over to the Borg ship that was at this very moment towing them through subspace to an unknown destination.
Moments later they arrived in the transporter room ready to go.
"Chief, set transporter coordinates for the Borg cube." Chris said as they moved onto the PADD.
"Yes, sir, but do you know where you'd like me to put you down?" the chief transporter operator asked.
Commander glanced at Lt. Commander Savat and then to Corgan and Mass, finally to Peterson for an answer or suggestion. He waited for a moment and then one of them responded.
"The best beat would be as far away as possible from the central plexus or any of the transwarp coils," Kent said, trying to distance him emotions from the reality that he was about to transport over to a Borg cube. He walked over to the small screen mounted on the wall and brought up the small schematic. "I'd say this location," he said, pointing to a region in the outer core of the massive 4.06 kilometer wide cube. "We'll attract less attention from here."
"It looks far away from any major systems," Thomas remarked.
"That's the idea. The Borg are acting confused and not behaving necessarily consistent with what we know of them. If they attack on site I doubt we'll want to be beaming in a location with twenty or so drones."
Chris nodded. "I see your point."
"Alright then set coordinates." Chris said. "You may transport when ready."
The tension and nervousness beaded on Corgan's forehead and neck before they transported. He had bad experiences with the Borg, but this time, he had to go in the belly of the beast, a Borg cube with enough drones to overwhelm the landing party in a matter of minutes. He didn't like those odds. Hopefully, they didn't have to face the odds in person.
He felt the energy beam wash over him. The tingling sensation gently faded away as he was transported in a labrythine world of black and green corridors, dangling tubes, and scattered consoles of glowing neon green. This was it, the pictures that he has seen were true. This was a Borg cube.
He was right in the middle of his worse nightmare.
~~"Please god, don't let me die here."~~ He quietly thought to himself.
-------
By Dr. Vladimir Malgin and Ensign Samthia Wej
Dr. Malgin supported Ensign Wej by the waist as he helped her to her quarters. The Deltan science officer's complexion was a whiter shade of pale, and she didn't look very good, but it was much better than being unconscious.
Another fit of coughing brought some of the colour back to her cheeks.
"Breathe deeper... So, Ensign, what was it? I thought that the science department was one of the safest on the Galaxy?" asked Malgin. Vlad smiled gently, but it is easy to sense that he was really worried.
"I'm not sure. There was a pale blue gas venting into room. It was really strong and I barely had time to override the controls before I passed out in the corridor. I lost consciousness..." remembered Samthia.
"I can continue. Ensign Murdock was heading to his quarters and found you lying on the floor. He immediately called Savat and a medic. I was free and was sent... Well... Have you got any thoughts of WHO made it?"
"Conspiracy theories are not my department, Doctor." Immediately regretting her sarcastic quip, Samthia softened her tone. "If you are asking whether I have an empirical evidence to point out the person, or persons, responsible. I do not."
Vlad was nearly ready to buy into Samthia's response. But being in close proximity to her, he was already being affected by her presence, and he could almost feel the secrecy in which her words were cloaked.
He would have pressed her further for details, but they arrived at her quarters. The proximity alert was disabled and he opened the doors for her. Handing her a padd, it contained a subroutine she could run in her personal replicator that would dispense medication for what must have felt like a four alarm headache. As the Ensign was bald and fair, he could see her temples throbbing.
"Thank you Doctor."
Vladimir smiled at her as she stood on the threshold to her quarters. As she entered, he reminded her of an old Russian saying;
"A spoken word is not a sparrow. Once it flies out, you can't catch it"
Samthia turned around to see Dr. Malgin standing, his arms crossed in front of his chest with a knowing smile on his face.
The doors closed between them. But not before he knew that she knew he knew she was hiding something.
Vladimir Malgin, MD
Ensign Samthia Wej
The rich get richer.
Last but not least, and potentially most tragic, is that the Romantics of the universe are typically doomed to walk alone through the cold harshness of life.
--Its almost mathematical-- mused Rebecca to herself with a sigh. --The level of one's silly romantic notions varies inversely with the amount of love you actually receive.--
It was true too.
For every broken hearted soul alone at home tending a life of unrequited love, there was an unworthy individual out there who could drink to his fill of passion, and yet valued none of it.
For ever innocent lover of poetry and magic that was sentenced to solitude, there was a crude and crass individual who somehow took any man or women he desired.
~~~And for every skinny redhead from Minnesota dreaming about the magic of her first kiss....There's a leather goddess from Bajor to steal that moment away in the blink of an eye.~~~ Rebecca thought glumly as she watched the cascade of colors whiz by her on the Main viewscreen.
Galaxy was still being drawn deeper and deeper into the Borg Transwarp conduit, and a strange silence had settled over the bridge crew. Each was left alone with their thoughts, wondering and worrying over when and where they would emerge.
As for Rebecca, her primary concerns were below-decks where somewhere in the myriad corridors of the Galaxy a certain statuesque Engineer walked. --Oh Nil, how could you?-- she fretted. --How could you take from me the one mystery of love I was looking forward to the most? My first kiss! It was supposed to be magical and romantic. Time was supposed to stand still, and fireworks were supposed to go off.--
"It was SUPPOSED to be with a boy." she muttered out loud.
"How's that again Lieutenant?" Captain Price shifted in his chair in an attempt to look at the tiny officer hidden behind the great Tactical Arch.
"Er....nothing sir...s...sorry sir." Rebecca blushed, "Just talking to myself."
"Right lass." Price frowned, "Let's try to keep a little focus here mate."
Rebecca muttered an "Aye sir." and turned back to her displays. All lights in the green. All Tactical systems at 95% or better, albeit with a SERIOUS drain on the Torpedo supply. Particularly with the New Multi Phasic models.
Rebecca blinked noting a small abnormality on her Torpedo status display. One of the few remaining loads was running showing a malfunction in the Multi Phasic proximity detonator.
Flipping on the Departmental Comm, Rebecca put in a call to her crews in the forward Torpedo room for verification.
(HER crew. How strange that sounded, and yet technically she was the head of the entire Tactical Department)
A quick conference with the Weapons Quartermaster and the problem was confirmed, one of the remaining seven torpedoes was permanently offline.
Clearing her throat shyly, the redheaded pixie reported this fact to the Captain.
"Detonator malfunction?" he asked, "Any chance of getting it back online? We're gonna need every shot we got."
Rebecca shrugged uselessly, "We don't even know how the silly things work sir. Half our computer models predict they wont function in the first place, and the Multi Phasic nature of the Warhead means it doesn't even fully exist in our Space Time Continuum. The Torpedoes don't even register on most of our diagnostic tools."
Price sighed and nodded. "The problem with using technology from the future right mate?"
Rebecca smiled faintly. "Y..y...yes sir. We can build new ones by copying the Originals from Voyager, but maintenance is virtually impossible."
The soft hiss of the Turbolift doors behind her interrupted Rebecca's explanation, and the heavenly sight that emerged did not serve to make her problem any easier.
~~~Oh noodles from Heaven he is so gorgeous~~~
There he stood in all his slim Vulcan glory. Lt. Commander Surok, newly appointed Second Officer aboard the Galaxy, and possibly the owner of the cutest tush onboard.
He stepped out of the lift and scanned the bridge activity coolly taking in every detail. Pausing barely a moment to glance at the swirling colors on the Main viewscreen, Surok moved smoothly to the Captains side, and in quick efficient words, discussed some vital aspect of ships function.
From behind the Arch, Rebecca leaned forward ever so slightly so as to gain a better view of that dark paragon of alien beauty, her tiny feet going up on tip-toes in order to add a few inches.
~~~Noodles, there's a complication to my life I don't need. While I'm off playing kissy-face with girls I could be spending time with HIM.~~~
Rebecca sighed and lowered her eyes in shame. Her reaction to the Vulcan's presence only proved the 'wrongness' of her encounter with Nilani.
~~~Stupid girl~~~ she chided herself, ~~~He's too perfect for the likes of you. You might as well stick to settling for another girl, because you'll never be in his league.~~~
Men like Surok were made for REAL women Rebecca decided. Real women who actually look like women, and not silly skinny girls with flat chests.
Closing her eyes in frustration, she figured that perhaps she was not worthy of his attentions in the first place and thus was better off with the rejects. Kissing girls (as gross as it may be) was all she was good for.
"I fail to understand your failure to utilize the assets available to you." The soft voice spoke out of the darkness.
Rebecca's eyes snapped open, and she gave a half squeak of surprise to see that Surok had moved from the Bridge floor to a position at the arch beside her.
"Uh……ah….m…m…my assets?" she stammered wondering how he had read her mind, her freckled cheeks reddening in embarrassment.
"Correct." The Vulcan stated and nodded towards her display, "Per standard procedures, in the recent battle, We in Operations have provided Tactical First priority in computational resources and power flow."
He paused to indicate a specific readout , "Your utilization of the Ships Computer for tracking and targeting purposes was 47.8% below predicted requirements. It is illogical for you not to take advantage of the resources we have provided you."
"Oh…….that." Rebecca said suddenly switching gears, "Oh…..I don’t…..well…I don’t tend to use the targeting Computer too much…..I…. uh…..you know…..just wing it myself."
The tall Vulcan paused and considered the small human with a curious gaze. "Indeed? Am I to understand correctly that you…..'mentally' compute the various targeting vectors, including all changes in speed, course, and orientation, whilst simultaneously correcting for the Galaxy's own erratic maneuverings, and are able to keep up with everything in your HEAD?"
Rebecca lowered her gaze to the LCARS display in shame. ~~~Stupid stupid girl!!! You knew you shouldn’t be taking shortcuts like that!!!~~~
"Well…..uh….sir." she stuttered in a whisper, "I….I….I'm sorry, but I figured it was only for like….twenty or so different Borg ships, and ….and……well they don’t move all that fast at sub-light….and…….I'm sorry."
Surok raised an eyebrow. "Curious, You did this for the entire fleet of Borg ships? At the same time?"
Rebecca shrugged knowing she was in big trouble. "I…uh…well its only math sir. Compound vectors and probabilities and stuff like that." ~~~Oh….you're so gorgeous, why do you have to yell at me?~~~ she thought furiously
In spite of himself Surok blinked, "Quite commendable Lieutenant. Such a feat would, as I indicated, have consumed a considerable amount of Computer resources to calculate. I am curious as to what computational model you used in your efforts."
"I…..I don’t know…..I just kinda saw it."
"Fascinating."
The Vulcan and the human stood apart from each other in silent thought as the Galaxy roared down the Tunnel of flashing colors………….
=/\=
***Earth, July 29, 2375***
James thought it would be a sad day when he left the Galaxy, and in a small way, it was. Yet, he felt a burden lifted off his shoulders, one that he never expected. The burden of responsibility. As he watched the great ship glide away from the small shuttle he had boarded, on his way to Starbase 165, he burned the image of the sleek tail of her into his mind, forever to remember the dire consequences of his actions on board her.
Counselor Salshyar had come to visit him as she promised, and spent at least 2 hours a day with him, just talking. At first he had hated her for what she did, removing him from his post, but after a couple of days of counseling with her, he grew to realize that she was right. He needed a change of pace and scenery. A lot of excruciating memories had been exposed, ones he never really dealt with, and they began interfering with his duties. His ability to command was, and will be, compromised until he had dealt with them. So in the end, he had agreed with the Counselor, and accepted his transfer to Earth with sullen dignity. His stubbornness and refusal to get the help he needed when he was younger had cost him, and he was set back temporarily, but he wouldn’t let it faze him.
Captain Price had come down to see him in Sickbay after James accepted the inevitable and signed his medical transfer request form, to offer his best wishes and sad goodbyes.
“I’m sorry to see ya’ go, ‘mate. You’re a promising young officer, and I hope to see you back here soon. Thanks for all you’ve done for the ship and her crew. You’ll be missed.” With that, the General reached out his hand, and James took it graciously.
“Thank you, sir. I’ve learned a lot from you, and respect you a great deal, even if you did make me shave my beard.” James scratched his bare chin, where stubble was beginning to grow back in. “At least I get to grow it back again.” He grinned one more time, while they both hesitated.
“I won’t say good-bye, ‘mate, because I know we’ll meet again. It’s a big galaxy we’re in, but we follow the same path. To the stars, and beyond. Good luck, Mr. Mitchell.” Price then winked at him, held James’ shake one last second, and left without another word. James didn’t take it as an insult, as the Captain didn’t make him feel like a failure, but actually felt better knowing he will be remembered.
Other crewmembers had come to see him off when it came time to leave. Greer Erickson, who had been promoted in his place, Commander Sterner, who was the new First Officer, as Commander Coe was going with him to clear up some personal business. Chief Jensen, whom he’d shared a cigar with when he arrived on board, Deiran Casey, Ti Miran, Kahn Nilani, and many others. They all wished him well, but could see it in their eyes that they knew he wasn’t well. Especially Ti Miran and Kahn Nilani, since they knew first-hand the horrors he experienced. Stories sure did get around on the Galaxy right quick. He didn’t really care anymore anyways. He was going to go deal with issues he knew he couldn’t run away from any longer. He’d come back triumphant.
The Galaxy warped onto her next destination as the shuttle pulled away, and that was the last James would see of her for the next 3 years.
The trip to Starbase 165 was uneventful, to say the least, so James settled into a cot in the back of the shuttle and slept solidly for the first time in over a week.
For the following year after that, he was kept under close observation at Starfleet Medical, where he voluntarily confined himself to the grounds for evaluations. His mother would visit him once a week as part of his therapy as well as visitations. His father’s death played a larger role in his frame of mind than was first apparent, so she would sit in on several of James’ sessions to share some of her memories of him.
This was one of those sessions. James was dressed in simple garb. Loose-fitting pullover top, flare leggings. His beard was full and thick, a rarity for a Bajoran, but that is a gift he inherited from his mother’s side, and his hair a bit longer. He wore his father’s family earpiece, the last gift he ever received from his father before he perished. So, while James sat on an antique Louis XIV chair, his mother sat beside him on a matching seat, and they waited for Dr. T’Par to arrive.
“You look good, son. I see they’ve been treating you well here.” His mother reached over and took his hand, rubbing the top of it as she watched him with concern.
“I think so. It was a little bit difficult to get settled in for the first month, but then again, you know that. You remember...” James had been pumped with so much medication to help him deal with his nightmares, he was lethargic from the effects. He hardly recognized his mother as she had visited him then. She gripped his hand even tighter as she thought about those first few weeks.
“I’m only on light prescriptions now, Mother. I’ve been talking to Dr. T’Par every day since getting here. I’m feeling a lot better since being able to deal with these missing pieces of my life. It’s pretty strange that I now feel like I have continuity, instead of these black holes in my pre-Starfleet years.” Admiral Holly Mitchell simply smiled, yet ached. She wanted to ask him so much, to hear about his life, his loves, his adventures on the Galaxy, but she’d been asked to let James talk of his own accord. The doctors here had noticed that he only speaks during the sessions he has with his Counselor. Otherwise, he goes back to his room, or sits in the lounge, reading. He hasn’t associated with anyone, and that was a concern.
“Tell me about what’s been happening with the War, mother. They don’t let us get much information about it here. Only heresy. They’re afraid we’ll get all worked up over it.” Which is probably true, James thought. Anything is better than sitting here talking and doing nothing while thousands of beings are out there dying for our freedom every day.
“Well, a Romulan hospital was discovered on Dersa, but it turned out to be a storage facility for plasma torpedoes.” James eyes shot up. “Don’t worry. The Romulans withdrew. Oh, and Captain Sisko discovered the Orb of the Emissary.” James nodded. He was never as fanatical as other Bajorans about the prophets, but that he attributed to being raised in a Terran environment most of his life, considering his mother was from Earth.
Just then, Admiral Mitchell’s commbadge beeped.
[Admiral Mitchell, prepare for transport] James released her hand as she tapped a response.
“Who is this, and what is the problem? I’m on 48 hour leave.” Holly stood up from her chair as Dr. T’Par entered.
Just then, an explosion rocked the facility, and the wall behind James blew out, sending braces and shrapnel everywhere. The explosions kept booming. Glass shattered as screams were heard resonating through the gaps in the walls.
[We’re under attack, Admiral! Initiating transfer to USS Dakota. Shields up as soon as she arrives!] The distinct hum of a transporter beam was heard.
Before the transmission had even ended, several more explosions ripped through the building, and flashes of light could be seen outside. The sky had gone dark with smoke and haze. Fires burned all about the base of the building, in the parks and living quarters. Admiral Mitchell shimmered away in a cloud of dust and debris. James glanced across the tattered remnants of the Louis XIV chair he had been thrown under to watch his mother beam away in safety. As she beamed away in safety, through the remaining sparkles, he could see Dr. T’Par, speared through the chest with a reinforcing rod, effectively splitting her in two. The floors were washed jade with her blood. As her body drained the last of its lifeforce, the walls came crashing down, burying her remains under a crushing mass of duranium.
James looked up through the hole that used to be the ceiling and outer wall to see dozens of fighters of a type he hadn’t seen in a long time come swooping down on the city from above. The sleek bullet-shaped craft converged on the populace of San Francisco and strafed their phasers in a burning fury on the buildings of Starfleet Headquarters, destroying everything in their paths. As nightfall descended on the burning city, James could see starfire in the skies as the invading ships encountered Earth’s defense system. His mother was up there, in a starship somewhere, maybe, and for once, he was trapped and unable to do anything of his own respite.
Instead, he pivoted on his heel, climbed over the debris that housed Dr. T’Par’s bloodied and broken body and searched for survivors, not knowing that as he left, a Breen starfighter had fired a concentrated burst of phaser energy where he was standing earlier, and vaporized the side of the building in a cloud of heat and dust.
Lt. James Mitchell
Lt. Eric Odin
Lt. Rose Isis McCallen
Eric pushed the button on Roses quarters knowing she'd be there. He had
already checked with the computer before coming over.
Rose was sitting at her desk doing some paperwork, still wearing her leather
outfit from swordfighting, "Come."
Eric entered and did a touble take of Rose wearing leather and said,"Wow, you
look great Rose."
Rose looks at him, "What can I do for you my friend?" she said with a smile.
He entered and said,"I was just dropping by to see my very beautiful friend.
Are you free tonight?"
"Yes I am, my boyfriend working overtime again like always." Rose said with
a sad voice, then sits back down behind her desk.
"I was wondering if we could go out to eat?"He asked wanting to confess
something to her tonight.
"That fine I haven't ate in the last 24 hours." Rose told him looking over
some notes.
He smiled and said,"Thanks. Meet you in holodeck room 3 in 30 minutes?"
**30 mins later, Holodeck 3**
Rose walks in wearing a pink Betazoid dress, "Hello anybody in here." she
said.
Eric smled and waved to her as it was a beach kind fo setting. There was a
blanket on the sand with two placing of betazed foodand beatzed wine. Eric
motioned towards the blanket and asked,"Would you care to join me?"
Rose sits down on the blanket, then looks at him, "So what is this all about
Eric?"
Eric slwoly sat and said,"The truth is Rose. I love you and I have for quite
the while. I want us to be together. I'd like to work towards a very
permanent relationship like marriage." He was nervous, but trying not to
show it.
"What about my boyfriend, what can I do with him?" She asked him.
"Well break up with him if you want us to be together, The real question
here is what do you feel towards me Rose?"He asked hoping she'd say she loved
him too.
"I do love you Eric, what do you really think about my boyfriend the Chief
Helmsman?" she asked him looking out to the sea.
"I think he's a good guy and very lucky man to be going out with you. I want
to be with you Rose. I know this is kind of sudden, but I love you."
"But he works all the time....Eric I need to think about this for a while ok
will you let me do that?" Rose asked him.
"Yes. I love you Rose and I know you love me. I'll be patient and I'll wait
until you contact me is that alright?"
"That be fine Eric." she said with a smile then drinks the wine down fast.
Eric set his glass down and asked,"Does this cancel dinner?"
"No why?" she looked at him with her dark eyes.
He staired into her eyes and said,"I wasn't sure if you'd be comfortable.
I'm glad you strill are,"he said while he sipped his iwne and began to eat.
Rose starts eatting alittle, "Good food."
"Yes it is,"he said continuing ot look at her.
"Your know my boyfriend never does this, we always eat in Ten-Foward is
like so damn boring to eat there every night." she told him while looking out
towards the sea.
"You know I always try and spice things up, especially for soemone as
beautiful as you."He said wondering what her reaction would be to that
statement
"That very sweet of you Eric, but what about your last girlfriend?" she
asked in alittle scared voice.
"She moved away and we are over. I am moving on and hopefully you and I can
be permanent should we end up being together."he smiled and tried not to
think of Anika, he had gotten over her, but it was still hard.
"What about Dr. Lynn she one of my friends I don't want to hurt her." she
asked him.
"Believe me, we are nothing but good friends. It was a mistake and i'll have
to deal with it. She knows this and so do I. I'm going ot be a father to
that child if I can. Other than that there shouldn't be any difficulties."
"I will not end up in a loveless affair like my parents where and look at me
with my boyfriend I am in one." Rose said playing in the sand.
"We will have love should we ever occur,"he said trying ot get that point
across.
"It time to pick....but I have to think about it more just give me a day."
Rose told him.
Eric smiled and said,"You got it beautiful."He smiled and kissed the top of
her hand gently and said,"Until we speak again then. Either way we will
remain at least friends Rose."
"You will have your answer at the same time tomorrow ok." Rose said with a
smile walking towards the door.
"Alright, I'll be here."He said smiling and hoping. "Caught in Chaos"
By the rest of the fleet
11:00 hours
***11:05 hours***
***11:07 hours*** "Going Through the Motions"
by Ensign Wren McCauley
with an unautherized appearance by Ensign Aenan Gelis "Coming Back From the Past"
by James Mitchell
Science Officer, USS Galaxy
Science Officer
USS Galaxy
AES "Caught in Chaos" Part 2
By the rest of the fleet
***11:54 hours***
***11:57 hours***
***11:58 hours***
***11:58 hours***
***11:59 hours***
***12:12 hours*** "It Had to be You..."
by Ensign Faustine Margolis
Ensign Faustine Margolis sat on her bed and contemplated the last few days'
events.
The Borg.
Their attack had been pretty terrifying, she admitted to herself. Her first
assignment, her first mission, and it had to be the Borg. What a nightmare.
It couldn't get any worse.
Well, no wait, maybe it could. When she was younger, she always feared that
she would forget the words to her song at a recital or competition. She was
plagued with nightmares about such an embarrassment.
But the Borg was worse. At least, she had not had any nightmares about them
...yet. Sometimes, her imagination was too vivid for her sanity.
That was what Sam had said about her. From day one of their friendship, Sam
had always noted that Faustine had a flair for the dramatic.
Speaking of which, where was Sam? She had barely seen the science officer
since she had come aboard this ship at Starbase 114. They had only been able
to talk once briefly, and it had been anything but a pleasant reunion.
=^= Prior to departing Starbase 114
With a small satchel in hand, Faustine beamed aboard the USS Galaxy. She
could hardly contain herself; the excitement was so palpable. Her first
assignment. What a thrill!
After checking in with her direct superior officer and being shown her
quarters, Ensign Margolis used her last hours of free time to set off on a
personal mission.
She was out to find her old Academy friend, mentor, confidant, and
ultimately...rival. Fox was so thrilled at being reunited with the Deltan
that she even put aside former differences that had plagued their friendship
Sam's last year at the Academy, just over two years ago.
Walking down the corridor, near Stellar Cartography, she spied the tell tale
smooth head of the officer in question.
Taking a deep breath, Faustine let out an operatic note.
"WEJ!"
Samthia turned sharply on one heel as though spooked by a ghost from the past.
"Fox?"
Faustine smiled. "It's me... I finally made it."
Sam's response to the younger woman's enthusiasm was cooler than even
Faustine had expected.
"Congratulations. The Galaxy is a big ship. Let's try and stay out of each
other's way... this time."
Fox trotted to catch up to the familiar bald head.
"Come on Wej. It was a long time ago."
"Not long enough."
Ensign Faustine "Fox" Margolis
Ops Officer
USS Galaxy "Give 'em what's behind tube number one..."
by Captain Robert Edward Lee Price "Preparing to Visit the Borg"
by Commander Thomas - First Officer
USS Galaxy
tbc
by Commander Maas, CMO
with revisions by Captain Price. Lieutenant Commander Ethan Suder
Chief Engineer "Boring Battle"
Starring Rebecca von Ernst "Evidence and Proof"
By Lieutenant jg Electra Reece
Acting Assistant Chief of Operations “Saving Deep Space Nine – Part 1”
by Ensign Heather Grant-Wellington
and Doctor Autumn Jamieson
From Ensign Grant-Wellington “Evidence and Proof, Part 2”
By Lieutenant jg Electra Reece
Acting Assistant Chief of Operations
by Ensign Culton Manley "Evidence and Proof, Part 3"
By Lieutenant jg Electra Reece
Acting Assistant Chief of Operations “My Work Here is Done"
by Lt. James Mitchell
Science Officer
Science Officer
USS Galaxy
AES "A Battle beyond Battles"
by Commander Thomas
USS Galaxy
"Give 'em what's behind tube number one..."
by Captain Price
tbc.... "No deaths... At least for now"
by Ensign Dr. Vladimir Malgin.
Ensign Vladimir Malgin - Medical officer; ICQ 122987055 "Unexpected Encounter in the Brig"
A Joint Post by:
Lieutenant jg Electra Reece, OPS
Lieutenant jg James Lionel Corgan, Security Title: Seeing Stars
by: Ensign Samthia Wej
Stellar Cartography "A Helping Hand"
By: Lt Rose Isis MacAllen, Science Officer
with an appearence by Lt. Raven Darkstar, Security “Saving Deep Space Nine- Part 2”
By Ensign Grant-Wellington
And Ensign Jamieson "Between tasks."
By Lt. Commander Peterson "Repeating Action"
by Commander Thomas
by Lt. Commander Peterson
by Lt. (jg) Corgan
USS Galaxy
tbc....... He Knew that She Knew He Knew
(following "Seeing Stars")
Medical Officer
Stellar cartography The universe, by in large, is for the most part grossly unfair.
The poor get poorer.
The bad guys get the good girls.
The party-pooper Vulcans have the best sex. “Devastation”
By James Mitchell
Science Officer
Science Officer
USS Galaxy
~Built by Canadians