The promenade of Starbase 86 was packed with every conceivable species in the Federation. Most were Starfleet officers but there were more than a few civilians working their way amongst the throngs. Captain Órlaith Murphy sat in a somewhat quite corner of the replimat sipping a tea and picking through a plate of French toast.

She was about to take another bite when a shadow darkened the table.  She looked up and her first officer, a Trill, Commander Kevan Torin stood with a plate of food.  “Captain,” he greeted. 

“Commander,” Órlaith replied mid-bite, a chunk of French toast streaming syrup back to the plate. She leaned in and took the bite and chewed. 

“What are you eating?” the Trill asked curious.

“Uh… well it’s called French toast.  You take bread slices dip them in eggs with some other ingredients and then grill them.  Serve it with Maple syrup… uh a tree sap… sort of. You know, I don’t know exactly how that part is made. I just know the sap is part of it. How about you?”

“Trakin pie, and some Tarkalian tea.”

“Tea too?” Órlaith said with a grin presenting her own Earl Grey.

Torin settled in and with a fork cut into the savory pie and took a bite and smiled, “Almost like my mom’s.  Someone did a decent job programming the replicator.”

Órlaith grinned happy for him,  “Mine is a little off.  I think it’s the syrup… or perhaps too much cinnamon. It’s good enough to eat but, I don’t think I’d order it again without tweaking the recipe.”

Torin smiled in amusement, “Now, that’s not something you hear every day.  The human replicator recipe not up to snuff compared to a Trill one.”

Órlaith shrugged, “Maybe it’s just a difference in tastes.”

“Could be.  So, how did your meeting with Fleet staff go?”

“We have orders,” the captain replied before lifting her tea to her lips and taking a sip.

“I figured as much.  I got to be honest the crew is getting a little restless having sit here for two weeks.  To be honest so am I. Diplomatic duty and supply runs get a little stale, but at least we are doing something.”

Órlaith nodded and set her cup down.  “It’s neither of those things.”

The commander sat back and raised an eyebrow, “Scientific expedition?”

“Mining expedition. We’re heading for the Delta Quadrant Commander.”

“Delta Quadrant,” Torin said surprised.  “The Crazy Horse hasn’t left Federation space since the Dominion War. She’s on the verge of mothballing.  The only thing that saved her was the refit in 2399 that brought your predecessor on board.” 

Despite his objections Órlaith could see the excitement in her XO’s expression.  “And yet, here we are.  It’s a green zone and Starfleet feels that we will unlikely encounter any real threats. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t any so we will need to get the ship in tip-top shape. We leave for the Barzan Wormhole tomorrow morning.”

“Understood,” Commander Torin replied.  “Anything I should know?”

Órlaith slid a PADD over to her XO, “I will have a full briefing at 13:00 today.”

Torin gathered up his unfinished meal and stood up, “I’ll be ready captain.”

Órlaith nodded,  “See you then Commander.”

Captain Órlaith Murphy sat at the head of the table as her officers sat around her. They were actually going to leave the Federation,  the first time in decades the Crazy Horse had done so.  Survey teams back in September have discovered a planet with a very large vein of blood dilithium a few weeks prior and they were to mine it.”

Entering command into  the computer she brought up the mission briefing onto the main monitor, “I’m glad you are all here. This morning at 08:00 the USS Crazy Horse received our new orders.  We are to proceed to the Barzan Wormhole and enter the Delta Quadrant. From there we will proceed to the third moon of a gas giant in the Gantz System in the Gradin Belt.  But first we will head for Starbase 4 to pick up supplies for the Markonian Outpost.  This is not an opportunity for shore leave.  Make sure your people know this.”

There were nods of understanding.

“We will also be taking on mining equipment to extract and refine the blood dilithium.  Our main shuttle bay will be converted into the refining facility.  Mr. Washington I expect you to take care of that in preparation for the equipment.”

Marcus nodded, “Aye captain.  I assume ‘some assembly required’. Do we have specifications for this or am I winging it?”

Órlaith smiled at the comment, “I’ll make sure you have the directions you need.”

“Now for the big one,” Órlaith said taking a deep breath. “Doctor T’lar, including yourself, how many telepaths are onboard?”

The Vulcan chief medical officer thought for a moment, “Twenty-three captain.  Three in science, ten in security, five in operations, three in medical, and five in engineering.”

Órlaith frowned and nodded,  “I have discussed this with Commander Torin and we both agreed the risks from the blood dilithium makes this just too risky for the crew.”

“We have talked to the station Commander and all of the telepaths aboard the Crazy Horse will receive temporary assignments to Starbase 86 or extended leave will be offered,” The ship’s XO added.

“We hate to lose these people,  but your health and well being of the ship is my top priority.”

“Captain,” T’Lar started.  She hesitated torn between her logic and emotions that were normally so bottled up that you never seen them. “I… a most logical approach.  I could use some time back on Vulcan.  If possible I would like to take the leave.”

“I’ll get the paperwork submitted immediately,” Commander Torin said. 

“So this means every department will be a bit short handed from one degree or another.  I will need full shift rotations submitted to the XO by 0800 tomorrow morning.  This is a next crewmember up situation,” Órlaith said.

“I could install holoemitters in key locations of the ship,” Lt. Marcus Washington suggested. “I can fill holes in my staff with holographic engineers.”

“It would be logical to also bring an EMH aboard,” T’Lar suggested.  “The ship will be left with only one doctor. I believe it is safe to assume Dr. Mulder isn’t going to want to be on call for the entire duration.”

“You’re probably right,” Órlaith agreed. “Commander Hayden I need you to assist Lieutenant Washington.”

Thr blonde operations officer nodded, “Yes ma’am.”

“Mr. Talon I expect you and the rest of your department to be fully briefed and prepared for the Delta Quadrant,” the captain stated.

“Yes ma’am we will,” the young chief helmsman and navigator replied. 

“Also I want shuttle simulations for all shuttle pilots.  Let’s make sure they are all current and up-to-date on their training.   I don’t know what this mission will require.  Hopefully we won’t have to shuttle the ore to the ship, but I fully expect some equipment requiring shuttle work.”

Ensign Anthony Talon was furiously jotting down notes, “Aye ma’am.”

“Any questions?”

The crew shook their heads back at Órlaith.

“Very well you are all dismissed.”

The captain stood with her crew, but didn’t walk out. Instead she waited for the senior officers to file out of the observation lounge before returning to her seat and opening a PADD to continue filling out a report for Starfleet Command.

Ensign Anthony Talon and Lieutenant Diego Garza entered the Ferengi bar. They were both dressed in civilian clothes figuring they would blend into the normal patrons better.  Anthony wore a pair of tight blue jeans, cowboy boots, a button up Western shirt and a grey Stetson cowboy had.  Diego was dressed in blue jeans with a black leather jacket over a simple white t-shirt.

The little bar could only be described as a “dive”.  It was located in one of the seedier sections of the station. Dark and ran down the owner wasn’t investing much into his establishment.  But, despite it’s flaws the bar was packed with people all looking to unwind.  Off the beaten path from most security patrols things here operated a little bit in the grey. Nothing so as to force station security’s attention so it was safe.

“What can I get you hooman?” the bartender asked as they stepped up the the bar.  Anthony tossed a couple slips of latinum on the the bar, “Pale Ale, and whatever he wants.”

Diego looked at Anthony, smirked, “The same.”

The Ferengi bartender snatched up the slips and shuffled off to get the drinks. and returned a moment later with a pair of pint glasses filled with an amber liquid topped with white foam.

Anthony tipped his hat, “Much obliged.” 

The two men settled onto their stools and turned to face the bar.  The dabo, dom-jot, and tongo tables were packed with patrons from at least three quadrants of the galaxy.  This blood dilithimum had brought with it a surge to people trying to capitalize on the situation.

Sipping his beer Anthony considered the taste for a moment, “Not bad.”

Garza nodded, “I’ve had better, but considering we are in the Delta Quadrant in a Ferengi establishment I can’t complain.”

Anthony chuckled, “I’m sure you could if you wanted to, but no one would listen.”

Garza smirked, “No, I suppose not.  Why did you choose this?”

Anthony shrugged, “It seemed like fun.  I like the the hole in the walls.”

“I like not getting some weird disease.”

Anthony smirked, “Where’s your sense of adventure.”

Garza took a long drag on the beer before speaking.  “I dunno… I guess I lost it when I turned forty kid.”

“I guess when you used to ride broncs fun for most just seems a bit… lame.  Come, I think there’s a poker table in the corner.  Let’s see if we can scare up a game.”

The poker table seemed like almost an after thought.  Shoved in a dark corner with a single lamp wired into station power haphazardly hung from the ceiling casting the players in uneven shadow.  There were three sitting around the round felt topped table.  Two humans who had a rough almost pirate appearance and a Trill.  

“Is this the Alpha Quadrant table?” Anthony asked.

“Call it whatever you want,” one of the rougher looking pirates replied.  He had a bushy black beard that hung down over a leather vest.

“Looking to play?” The Trill asked.

Shrugging Anthony spoke, “If there’s room.”

The Trill just nodded at a pair of empty seats, “Buy in is ten slips.”

“That’s a little too rich for me kid,” Garza announced. “When they get done cleaning you out find me at the bar.”

“Okay Gramps,” Anthony said as he slid into the vacant chair and tossing requisite latinum on the pile with the rest.

Several hours later Anthony stared down at his cards three aces. He had a pile of chips sitting in front of him.  The Trill had already gone  bust long ago and was elsewhere in the bar seeking better luck.   Black Beard was down to only a few chips and his friend was in a similar fate, but had wisely folded and was sitting back sipping his drink watching the outcome of this hand.

Black Beard stared down at his meager chips and then back to his cards before gathering up the needed chips and tossing them onto the pile. “Call,” he said gruffly as he laid out his hand. A pair of kings and fives.

“Three of a kind,” Anthony said laying out his own cards and leaned towards his winnings.

“You’re a damned cheat,” Black Beard shouted and grabbed Anthony by the wrist. 

“Relax,” Anthony said with an attempt at a disarming smile.  “Some nights just go your way.”

“Not like this,” Black Beard drew back his fist and with the force of a shuttle craft he connected with Anthony’s chin and sent him flying.  He bounced off the dom-jot table angering a pair of surly Nausicans who stared down at him.

“Human mess up game!” one of the Nausicans growled.

“Hold on!” Anthony pleaded. “It was him,” he said pointing at Black Beard who was closing in on them fists balled. This prompted Black Beard’s friend to stand up and move towards them.  In a rock and a hard place Anthony braced for the inevitable, “Hey buddy, how about a helping hand!”

The first Nausican picked up Anthony and threw him several feet across the bar, and he crashed into a table breaking it and sending cups and plates flying. The Hirogen stood up.  With their helmets removed their faces clearly displayed the fire in their eyes.

“We have never hunted a Nausican before,” one of them said and drew a blade.

Meanwhile Garza was helping Anthony to his feet, “What did you say to them?”

“Nothing! I’m just a better poker player than he is.”

With the Nausicans occupied with the Hirogen the pirates closed in on Anthony and Garza, “Your friend here is a damned card cheat,” Black Beard accused.

“Really? That doesn’t sound like him,” Garza said and coldcocked the pirate with an uppercut to the chin that sent the pirate stumbling. Meanwhile, Anthony was busy getting pummeled by the pirate friend which sent him crashing into another table.  This time unoccupied. 

As the noisy order of the bar devolved into chaos the bar’s bouncers leaped into action.  Several hired Klingons and even a couple of armed Ferengi pushed their way through the fight breaking it up.  A phaser set on stun hit Garza. Anthony started to protest through a bloodied face when the bartender turned his phaser on him and fired. 

Anthony woke on his back.  He had a splitting headache and he had no idea where he was.  It was clean, well lit, and the walls painted in grey.  Groaning he rolled over and sat up in the bunk taking in his surroundings.  

Garza was coming to as well, “Oh, I hurt. I am too old for this. Where are we?”

“Looks like the brig on the Crazy Horse,” Anthony observed.  

“The captain isn’t going to be happy,” Garza groaned, “I think that fight breaks that agreement on the Outpost.”

“That’s correct,” A feminine voice announced from the cell door. “On both accounts Lieutenant.” The two wayward officers stood and snapped to attention with the arrival of their captain. “Luckily Grom handled the fight in-house and his bouncers dumped you two idiots off at the airlock. Station authorities hopefully will never have to know about your little adventure.”

Anthony glanced at Garza before turning his attention back to his captain, “I’m sorry ma’am, but it was just a misunderstanding.”

“So, I guess your face didn’t get used as a punching bag?”

“Uh…” the swollen lip and only one open eye told that story.  “It did, but I was accused of cheating.”

“Were you?”

“No ma’am.”

“Lieutenant Garza I am not surprised with a young kid like Talon here gets into trouble, but I expected more from you.  What’s your excuse?”

“None ma’am.”

Órlaith sighed looking at her officers.  In reality other than a few bruised egos their little escapade had done no real harm.  But, she also couldn’t just let her people brawl on the Outpost either.  They were the Federation and supposed to be enlightened after all, and by her estimation a common fist fight was not at all enlightening. “Okay gentlemen I am confining you to quarters while off duty for thirty days. In addition you two are never to set foot on the Markonian Outpost while under my command.”

With that the captain turned and walked out of the brig.  Anthony and Garza glanced at each other and spoke an unison as she hadn’t given the order to lower the force field. “Ma’am!”

Their pleas went unanswered as the outer doors slid shut.

The USS Crazy Horse dropped out of warp as it entered the binary star system.   The Gantz System had twelve planets, the largest being the fifth,  a gas giant, with eight orbiting moons.  One of those moons, named GG-5, was a Class M planetoid.  It was just a bit smaller than Earth, but it was a moon after all.

The Crazy Horse banked around an asteroid field and emerged into the habitable zone.   The Gas Giant loomed big on the viewscreen.  Streaks of oranges, browns, yellows made up the perpetual storms of the giant’s atmosphere.   There, a blue marbel orbited.

“Approaching GG-5,” the helmsman Anthony Talon announced.   GG-5 was simply the designation Gas Giant and fifth moon. Hardly the most creative of names.  “Since no one has named it,  why don’t we call this moon Eden?  It is the cradle of life in this system,” the ensign suggested as he adjusted the ship’s course slightly. 

Órlaith glanced around the bridge, “Works for me. Any objections?”

Commander Torin shook his head,  “I have none, but I don’t understand the reference.”

“It’s from Abrahamic religious mythology on the origins of life on Earth.  The Garden of Eden.”

The Trill first officer nodded, “It does seem fitting.”

“Good,” Órlaith said with finality, “I’ll make a note of it in the log.”

“Initiating standard orbit Captain,” Ensign Talon announced from the helm.

“Tactical report,” Órlaith ordered. 

“No other ships in the system,” Lieutenant Diego Garza announced.   “I am scanning the moon.  No indication of a power source or lifesigns.  I believe we are the only ones here.”

“Stay alert. That could change,” Órlaith said.

“Aye captain.”

“Full scan of the planet.  Let’s find the highest concentration of blood dilithium,” Commander Torin ordered. 

“Initiating scan,” Lieutenant Commander Erin Hayden responded. “Looks like the highest  concentration is on the Western continent in a central basin.”  She Brought up the preliminary scans and with the help of the ship’s computer a 3D animation was rendered on the view screen as the blue ball planet dissolved into atmosphere which gave way to a land mass that grew closer and closer.  The animation camera swooped over tall mountains covered in snow and tall pine like trees.  In the distance a basin appeared.  Possibly the result of some ancient and massive asteroid.  As it grew closer the forest gave way to a reddish desert. Along crags in the earth blood red crystals erupted from the barren soil.

“Not the most hospitable environment,” Torin commented. 

“We have a few of those colonial pop-up structures in cargo bay 4 don’t we?” Órlaith asked.

Torin thought for a moment and nodded, “Yeah, we do.”  

These structures were instant colony designed to be built within an hour and could house twenty colonists.  With its micro-fusion generator there was more than enough power to provide HVAC for comfort and replicators.

“Have Commander Hayden supervise the structures so Mr. Washington can get the mining operation established.   Take Lt. Garza and a full security detail with you as well Commander.”

The first officer nodded, “Aye captain.” He stood and as he did so he was tapping his combadge, “Alpha, and Bravo teams report to transporter room two.  Commander Hayden and Lieutenant Garza you two are with me.”

With that the XO, operations officer, and tactical officer stepped off the bridge. Órlaith watched them go longing to be a part of the action.  But, as the captain her place was on the ship.  

Standing she started for the ready room, “Lieutenant Shrin the Conn is yours.  I’ll be in my ready room.”

The Andorian science officer nodded, “Aye captain.”

The temperature was hovering around 46° Celsius.  According to Commander Torin’s tricorder they were standing roughly 60 meters below sea level.  The air was heavy and thick and the heat was like standing in front of his mother’s bread oven.

Wiping the sweat from his brow he opened the front of his uniform jacket and set it on a nearby crate careful to remove his combadge and affix it to his under shirt which was already heavily saturated with sweat.

Approaching Commander Hayden he spoke, “How’s it going?”

The operations officer looked away from her work to acknowledge her superior officer.   She was still wearing her uniform jacket but it was open and her blonde hair was matted to her forehead with loose strands sticking to her cheeks.

“Should have these shelters up in fifteen minutes sir,” she lifted a pouch of water to her lips and took a long drink.  “Here, you look like you need this,” she said handing him the pouch.

Torin took the silvery plastic pouch and finished off the contents in to long gulps.  The water tasted like plastic and was at best described as “tepid”, and it tasted wonderful. “Thanks,” he said as the engineers slid the roof onto the first shelter and it clicked into place. The buildings were made of a lightweight but incredibly strong composite material.  It didn’t have the appeal of concrete or wood, but in reality it was not only more durable the insulating properties were far better.

“Well look at that. Our base of operations is coming together. There’s no shelter so we’ll have to mine in short shifts.”

“Agreed,  and we’ll need lots of water,” Erin added.

“We should probably get a hospital set up and get some of the Horse’s medical staff down here.”

“I’ll get on that. This is being set up as out administration building and mess hall,” Erin said of the newly erected structure.   “Over there,” she said pointing to a pair of larger structures being built, “Will function as out barracks.”

“Fine work commander,” Torin said.  He squinted into the horizon,  “I never did get a chance to talk to you about our current dynamic.”

Erin looked up at him confusion on her face,  “Sir?”

“I know you were acting captain after Captain McKenzie and Commander Halstead disappeared.  It had to be a tough pill to swallow when Starfleet assigned myself and Captain Murphy over you.”

“It’s not my call sir,” she said.

Torin nodded, “I know it isn’t.  I read your log reports and talked to several of the crew.  You did a phenomenal job.  You didn’t deserve this, and yet you have handled it professionally and you have treated myself and the captain without any hint of resentment.  I appreciate that. I attribute your actions to our smooth transition.  I just wanted the thank you.”

“Your welcome sir,” Erin said feeling a little uncomfortable.

“If you ever need anything let me know Commander. I owe you that much.”

“Thank you sir. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Torin nodded, “Carry on Commander.”  

The first officer walked away from Erin and picked his way up the rocky trail that lead up to the ore processesing.  Here the raw mined dilithium would be loaded into crates and beamed onto the ship or loaded onto shuttles. 

There the engineering team carved out a loading facility from the rocky terrain.   Lieutenant Washington had abandoned his uniform top all together and his dark muscles rippled under his labors.  Only Ensign Prol looked comfortable in the heat thanks to his half-Cardassian heritage. 

“Commander,” Washington said wiping the sweat from his brow.

“It’s hot today,” Torin commented.  

“That it is,” Washington said in in Midwestern accent.   The chief engineer had grown up in Michigan and never dealt with this kind of heat before.

“Should be a touch cooler tomorrow if we are to believe Lieutenant Shrin.”

Marcus looked up at the binary suns, and the gas giant Gantz IV loomed large in the sky. “I’d say a touch is probably still too warm.”

Torin checked,  “You’re probably right.”

“I’ve been thinking. Back in the 20th Century crews building Las Vegas faced similar temperatures.  I think we should follow their example and do our mining early in the morning before the suns come up, and then by mid-day we retreat to the air conditioning.”

“That’s not a bad idea.  This is miserable,” Torin replied. 

“Speak for yourself sir!” Prol said with a smile still in full uniform.

“Yeah well, not all of us are hot blooded like you Cardassians,” Torin responded with  wry grin.  “Yeah, let’s do your plan Mr. Washington.  The rest of the day we can take off or use shuttles to survey the moon.  The alternative is to wear EV suits.,”

Marcus frowned, “I’d rather risk the heat stroke.”

Torin laughed,  “Fair enough.   So, what’s it looking like here?”

“Progress is slow, but we’re getting it,” Marcus said. “We should be ready to mine tomorrow.”

Torin nodded, “That’s what I like to hear.  Carry on Lieutenant.”  Torin turned and headed back down the  path.  He stopped after taking a few steps, “Oh and stay hydrated.”

“We will sir,” Marcus replied. 

When Torin had returned to their little settlement the barracks were already finished and they assembly crews were erecting the hospital.   He wondered if they would send Dr. Mulder down here or utilize the EMH.  Torin decided he wasn’t going to worry about that.  Engineering and Medical could figure that out on their own.

Entering the administration building he was immediately hit with  blast of cooled air, and he shivered despite himself.  The tiny room was empty and the only lights came from thr duraplast windows on either side of the room. His desk was on the far side and draped over the seat back was his dust covered uniform jacket.

He slid into his seat with a heavy sigh. He was exhausted.  The heat did that to you.  Absently he could smell himself; sour from sweat and there was an unpleasant body odor musk.  He hoped they got the shower building built next.

The door opened and Lieutenant Diego Garza entered.   The Chief of Security looked as beat down as he felt.  Maybe worse. “Mr. Garza.  What can I do for you?”

Diego shrugged,  “I have a preliminary security report for you sir.”

Torin nodded, “Go ahead.”

“We did a five kilometer patrol around the settlement.  I have yet to detect any threats.  The largest lifeforms are some primitive arthropods and reptilia.  There’s a type of horned lizard that’s venomous,  but the venom is fairly mild.  There’s a series of caves along the northern edge of the desert as it transitions to a grassy plain.”

Torin nodded, “I think it’s safe to say our biggest threat will be the two-legged variety.  Once it gets out that there’s this much dilithium here people are going to flock.”

“How should we handle that?”

Torin shrugged,  “I guess with the attitude of, ‘you leave us alone we’ll leave you alone’.”

“Sounds reasonable,  but I probably should bring more personnel in.”

Torin nodded, “Do as you see fit.  I’ll support you in that. We might want to get a security office built.”

“I was thinking that too.”

“Get with Commander Hayden.”

“I will sir. ”

“Very well, you are dismissed.  See you at dinner.”

“Yes sir,” Diego said and walked out of the building.

Torin smiled watching him go and leaned back in his chair.  He needed to write a report for the Captain, but that could wait. For now he would rest his eyes.  It had been a long day and tomorrow promised even more work.

Órlaith sipped her tea in her ready room facing the massive picture window. Eden was large and the even larger gas giant filling the background.   There was a beauty to this in its own right.  “This is why I joined Starfleet,” she said aloud to herself.  

The chirp of the comm broke her thoughts.  “Captain, you better come to the bridge,” Lieutenant Shrin’s voice came over the speaker.

Órlaith tapped her combadge as she stood up, “On my way Lieutenant.”

It was a matter of seconds and Órlaith stepped onto the bridge. “Report.”

“A Devore warship has dropped out of warp and entered the system.  Their shields are raised and weapons charged,” Shrin responded holding down the operations station.

Órlaith slid into the center chair and settled in, “Go to yellow alert.  Put the Devore on screen.”

The warship glided through the system on an intercept course.  As it entered the asteroid belt separating the inner planets from the outer planets it dodged and a ducked the massive space rocks without slowing down.  The warship emerged from the field, leveled out and after a few moments the ship moved in along side the Crazy Horse.

“We are being scanned,” Shrin replied her fingers dancing over the console.

“Let them.  We have nothing to hide,” Órlaith said.

“The Devore ship outclasses us tactically,” the replacement officer reported, “If it comes to a fight I cannot promise we will come out ahead.”

The captain pressed the comm button on her chair, “Crazy Horse to Commander Torin.”

“Go ahead captain,” the ship’s first officer’s voice rang over the bridge.

“We are getting a little visit from the Devore Imperium up here.  Hold tight, but you should prepare for landing parties.”

There was a pause, “Understood.  I’ll make sure everyone is armed.  You want us to return to the ship?”

“No, I don’t want to lower the shields right now. Hang tight commander, with a little luck this won’t come to a fight.”

“Understood.  Torin out.”

“Lieutenant what are the Devore doing now?” Órlaith asked.

“Nothing ma’am. They are just sitting there,” Shrin reported.

Standing the captain moved to the center of the bridge, “Mr. Talon set a course out of the system just in case.”

“Where to?”

“The Euphrates is the closest Federation ship,” Shrin suggested.

“That will do.” She took a deep breath. Now was time for her best poker face, “Hail the Devore.”

“Channel open captain,” Tactical announced.

“This is Captain Murphey of the Federation Starship Crazy Horse. We are on a peaceful mission of mining. Please state your intentions.”

There was a long pause and then the viewscreen switched to the interior of the ship with a Devore male standing in all black of a Devore inspector. “I am Klavik,” he spoke succinctly.  “You will lower your shields and prepare for inspection for telepaths.” 

“Mr. Klavik I assure you there are no telepaths on the Crazy Horse,” Órlaith responded. “What telepaths we had on the crew were left back in the Alpha Quadrant.”

“Then you won’t mind if we inspect your ship,” Klavik responded.

“I do mind. This isn’t Imperium territory and we are not subject to your laws.  Feel free to explore this moon and take what dilithium you desire.  We do not claim exclusive mining rights for Eden.”

“We have annexed this system in the name of the Devore Imperium.  You are now trespassing and subject to our laws.  As such you will submit to inspection or we will destroy your ship.”

“There’s just one problem with that,” Órlaith said. “I don’t recognize your ever shifting borders, and you are welcome to try to destroy us.  You may even succeed. But there’s a problem.  This isn’t twenty some years ago and Voyager is alone just trying to get home.  You can’t bully us any more. There are thirty some Federation ships in the area, and not to mention our allies.  Do you really want to be the one that starts an interstellar war that will certainly cost thousands if not millions of Devore lives? You attack me you will have kicked the hornet’s nest and we will destroy you. Then Devore space will be Federation space and we will liberate all the telepaths you so unenlighteningly have persecuted. But, by all means force our hand.”

Klavik swallowed the realization that this Federation captain wasn’t going to kowtow to him. With fire in his eyes he closed the channel.  The weapons powered down and the warship broke orbit and jumped to warp to terrorize someone else. Órlaith dropped into her chair.  The strength to stand suddenly leaving her. “Ms. Shrin notify Starfleet that we could use some back up.”

The Andorian glanced back at her captain, “Remind me not to play poker with you ma’am.”

“Who says I was bluffing,” she said simply.  “He was a bully and I hate bullies.”

The suns were just poking over the horizon setting the sky in a blaze of blues, pinks, oranges, and yellows.  The sparse desert was still bathed in shadows in the pre-dawn hour. 

As hot as it was in the day, it was just as cold at night, and Torin’s breath came out in puffs of frozen clouds.   Huge flood lights illuminated the mining area revealing half loaded crates and equipment scattered about. Officers grunted as they swung mining picks, or used phasers to break the dilithium apart.

Torin shivered and cradled his cup of coffee in his hands as he watched his people toil.  Despite the chill they were sweating under the hard Graft.

“Commander,” Washington greeted.

“How’s it going?”

Washington glanced back at the workers, “We’ve already extracted two metric tonns of ore.”

“They’re making quick work of this,” Torin observed. 

“They are indeed,” Washington replied. “John has something he wants to show you.”

John Rolfson was a civilian dilithium miner by trade and the Crazy Horse had brought him along for his expertise on the subject.   John was a short stocky man with a bushy brown beard sporting tobacco stains on account of his chewing addiction.  

“Mr. Rolfson,” Torin greeted.

The miner nodded to the Commander, “Mornin’.”

“Mr. Washington says you have something you want to show me?”

The miner nodded and lead the Starfleet officers to a crate, “We got some good news and I guess depending your perspective bad news.”

Torin took in a deep breath, “Okay, let’s get the bad news out of the way.”

The miner nodded, “There’s much less blood dilithium on this planet than we thought. Half as much, maybe.”

“I don’t understand,” Torin replied confused.  “I saw those scans myself.”

“That’s because this place is lousy with dilithium, just not blood dilithium.” The miner dug out a chunk of the ore in demonstration.  Milk white crystals were embedded in compacted substrate.

“That’s not blood dilithium,” Torin replied surprised.

“It isn’t.  This might be the most significant dilithium discovery in the past ten years.  We need to establish this planet as a permanent colony.”

Torin ran his fingers through his hair, “That’s above my pay grade sir, but I will send it up the chain of command and we can go from there.  Keep up the good work Mr. Rolfson.”

Torin walked to the edge of the ridge where the settlement’s mining operations were being conducted with Marcus at his side.  The suns were just breaking over the horizon bathing the barren landscape in yellow. Mountains off in the far distance were still black.   It was a harsh land, but there was a beauty in its own right.

“It’s beautiful,” Marcus said echoing Torin’s own thoughts.

“Yeah… yeah it is.  Marcus why are we, Starfleet that is, rushing to get our hands on this blood dilithium? Most of our crews are integrated with at least some telepaths. It’s useless to us unless we plan on using it as a trade commodity.”

Marcus thought for a moment and then shrugged, “I don’t know.  Perhaps they are thinking they can remove the problematic aspects the stuff.  But you are right it is odd sir.”

“Well keep me posted,” Torin said.  “I better continue my rounds… and apparently I have one hell of a report to write.”

“See you around Commander.”

Torin nodded to Marcus and turned and started down the path occasionally stumbling over loose rocks which clattered down the hill.

Lieutenant Diego Garza sat on a boulder outcropping on a ridge overlooking their settlement.   Someone with a cheeky sense of humor had taken to calling it Telluride after the mining town in Colorado.   Telluride was actually derived from the phrase “To Hell You Ride”.  To Diego there was no better name.  It wasn’t even midday and the temperature had already risen to 42° Celsius. 

He pulled out his canteen, opened the topper and took a long drink before splashing some of the liquid on his face.  The sky was blue without a cloud and the distant purple mountains loomed inviting as a respite from the heat.  

Replacing his canteen he removed a piece of jerky as he scanned the area for anything out of place.  Nothing.  Diego had grown up in the Mexican state of Senora so desert was nothing new to him. He didn’t care for the heat, but he understood the desert and how to survive in it.  

Still chewing on his jerky he shouldered his phaser rifle and continued picking his way around the larger rocks on the edge of the outcropping. He hadn’t gone twenty steps when his eye caught a small rock out of place. Diego kneeled closer.  It was about a fist sized rock turned over.  The imprint in the dirt where it had once rested still showed darker with moisture.   Something or someone had came through here.  

It was unlikely to be one of his security officers,  as their patrols were supposed be closer to the settlement. It could have been one of the survey teams. Standing he scanned the area. Moving slowly he found another disturbed stone. Walking in the general direction he found a shoe print in the sand.  The sand was dry so it it didn’t leave a defined print, but it was definitely a humanoid foot print and not some animal. 

Diego paused to drink more water before continuing to follow the tracks. He eventually came to a place where rocks had created a bowl shape with a larger boulder overhang.  Inside the bowl it was filled in with sand from blowing winds. The sand was heavily disturbed like someone had spent considerable time there.  Sheltered under the overhang one could observe Telluride from here even under the most extreme of conditions.  

Diego opened his tricorder and performed a preliminary scan.  There was nothing of note.  A detailed scan may have yielded something like a skin cell or but of hair. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the equipment on him for that.

Snapping his tricorder shut Diego turned away from the bowl and after a few minutes he picked up the track again.   He followed it for the next thirty minutes.   He crossed a dry stream bed where the tracks were clearly visible. Pushing through some scrub brush on the otherside panting and drenched in sweat.   

Before him stretched the wide black swath of a lava flow.  He spent the next hour trying to pick up the sign again,  but it was gone.  Sighing he looked around in defeat. Tapping his combadge,  “Diego to Commander Torin. I found something.”

Crewman Charles Green set his pick down to rest his back.  He had never worked this hard in his life.  His hands were blistered, his back hurt.  This was definitely not what he expected life in Starfleet would be like.  Now, they have them out here in the mines hours before the sun rose.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” Green complained. 

“Quit your complaining,” one of his fellow crewmembers grumbled at him.  Crewman Tamara Williams was a petite young woman. Because of her size she was often sent into the Jefferies Tubes or other compact spaces, which she never complained about.  

It was her positive attitude that had lead to her being promoted over Green twice, and she was on the verge of making Petty Officer.   Green hated her for that.  Williams didn’t give Green much thought unless she was on a work detail with him and had to listen to him complain.

“I wasn’t asking you Williams,” Green retorted and threw down the pick and turned heading towards the darkness.

“Where are you going Green?” Tamara demanded.

“I’m taking a piss!  Can I do that in private or do you need to hold it and tell me everything I’m doing is wrong?”

Tamara smirked inwardly,  “No, I don’t think that particular level of incompetence requires my attention.  Just get back here.  I want to get this vein cut before daylight so we can avoid the heat.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Green replied. He added something else completely inaudible under his breath as well, but the look on Tamara’s face clearly demonstrated she knew what he had said.

Screw her. She thinks she’s God’s gift to the engineering department, he thought to himself angrily. 

He stumbled his way in the dark a couple hundred feet away.  Standing behind a boulder the size of a shuttle he unzipped his fly and relieved himself.   Zipping himself back up he stared up at the night sky. The stars twinkled brightly , and he longed to be up there and not in this hell.  “I’m an engineer,  not a damn miner!” He snarled towards the heavens.

A clutter of stone drew his attention behind him.  “Jesus Christ Williams! You can’t even leave a man alone long enough to pee in peace!”

The figure said nothing,  and Green could just make out the black curve of head and shoulder silhouetted againstthe night sky. It wasn’t Williams.  Whoever it was stood at about his own 1.9 meters and 90 kilograms.

“Who is it?” Green demanded. “Shakrath is that you?”

The figure simply raised a weapon and fired.  Green never even had a chance to scream out. Fear had left him paralyzed. There’s someone else on this planet, was the last thing he thought as the darkness enveloped him.

-*-*-*-*-*-

Captain Órlaith Murphy stood with her officers around her.  The suns were up and her fair complexion had already turned red with sunburn. The rocky spot wasn’t far from the mine.

Diego carefully walked the edge of the area scanning it with his tricorder.   Green’s combadge was there right in the sand less than a meter where he has relieved himself. Other than that there was no sign of the Crewman. 

“He got into an argument with Crewman Williams,  and she is the last person to see him,” Torin said to Órlaith. 

“You think she did something?” The captain asked suspicion in her voice.

“No, she has a fairly solid alibi,” Washington added. “She was lodging a formal complaint with me.”

“Captain, Commander I found something,” Diego announced. 

The two senior officers moved next to Diego as he pointed at a foot print in the sand. “That’s the same individual I found scouting us out.  See how the sand divits deeper out the outside edge of his foot?  This guy has quite the disability.   Walking would be awkward and possibly even painful.”

“So definitely not one of ours?” Órlaith asked.

Diego shook his head, “I would guess not.”

“Which way did they go?” Torin asked looking around.

“I only see track coming in, but I don’t see any moving out,” Diego replied. 

“I may have an explanation,” Marcus replied adjusting the scanning frequencies on his tricorder.  “According to this I am reading a transporter signal of unknown origin, but it has a Ferengi look to the pattern.”

“Ferengi!” Torin exclaimed.   “Why would they kidnap someone?”

“I don’t think it is actually Ferengi, ” Marcus replied.  “Ever since the Barzan Wormhole opened Ferengi profiteers have come to the Delta Quadrant and sold Alpha Quadrant technology en masse.”

“So we don’t have a clue who it is?” Torin replied feeling helpless.

Marcus shook his head, “I’m afraid not.”

“It’s a short range type,” Garza observed. “That means they either beamed elsewhere on the planet or in orbit.”

“And no one has cloaking technology in the Delta Quadrant,” Órlaith observed. 

“That we know of at least,” Torin added, “Which means they are probably still on the planet somewhere.”

“A reasonable conclusion.   The signature should dissipate quickly,  but we might be able to find something within the next three to four hours unless a scrambler is used,” Marcus replied.

Órlaith nodded, “I’ll return to the ship and dispatch shuttles. This is going to be like a needle in a haystack,  but right now it’s our only lead.  Commander I’ll leave things down here for you.”

“Aye captain.”

Órlaith tapped her combadge,  “Murphy to Crazy Horse;  one to beam up.”  A second later the captain was wisked away into a transporter beam.

Torin turned to Garza, “We need to increase security patrols.  I don’t care where you have to beg, borrow, or steal from to get it done.  Science is mostly sitting idle get them a phaser and get them down here.  Nobody wanders off alone.”

“Aye sir,” Garza replied and trotted off the carried out his orders. 

Torin followed at a slower pace with Washington at his side, “Anything I should know about the complaint levied against Crewman Green?”

There was a long silence as Washington considered the question,  “He may have called Crewman Williams a name.  We will handle it within the department if we find him alive sir.”

Torin nodded, “Which is seemingly less likely.”  

There seemed like Torin had more to say, but whatever it was he kept it to himself. Washington wondered if was the same guilt he was feeling.   No officer likes to lose a crewmember,  but if you had to choose one to lose,  Green would have been at the top of his list.

Sighing Torin patted Washington on the shoulder,  “Call it a day Marcus.  Let’s get everyone back to town.  Make sure your people keep to groups and to have phasers on them at all times.  We’ll take tomorrow off too. Hopefully we’ll have a lead by then and can determine if it’s safe or not.”

“Understood Commander.”

Torin nodded and left Washington to carry out his orders.

Lieutenant Shrin was in her lab.  A place where she felt most at home.  Sitting before her were several samples of newly refined blood dilithium.  She shuffled through PADDs before finding the one she was looking for.  She scrolled thorough it and set it down having not found the answers she was looking for.

Standing she went to the replicator,  “Rak’tagino, sweet.”

The device obediently hummed and the Klingon drink materialised before her.  She picked it up and took a sip. “Computer analysis of scan 21-alpha.”

There was a pause and the computer replied, “Inconclusive.”

“Hmm… Okay, Computer,  scan for any kind of EM emissions being emitted by the sample.”

There was a pause as the computer analyzed the blood dilithium. “Processing… there are no detectable EM emissions eminating from the sample.”

Sighing Shrin leaned over the scanning bed and observed the curious material.   It was dilithium,  there was no argument about that, but there was something else going on.  The blood red color being the biggest giveaway.  The deleterious effects on telepaths being another.

She straightend and while cradling her coffee she made circles around the science lab. “Computer begin log.”

The computer simply beeped in acknowledgement. 

“Science Log: supplemental.   I have recieved the samples of the refined blood dilithium. So far scans have been inconclusive.  I can’t figure out what is causing the deleterious effects on telepathic species. 

“As a woman of science I am not one to give the super natural much credence,  but there is something unpleasant about this red dilithium that sets my attenae on edge.”

She completed her log and stared into her cup of Rak’tagino. She took a sip of the coffee and set the cup down.  There really was something about that dilithium that had her on edge.  Like a sore on the tip of your tongue. 

Turning her attention back to the source of her discomfort she placed a sample on the scanning pad and errected a force field.   “Computer bombard the sample with tachyons for thirty seconds.”

The computer beeped and a blue energy was directed at the blood dilithium sample.  At the conclusion of the allotted time the beam ceased.  “Status of the sample,” Shrin demanded. 

“No change,” the computer responded. 

Shrin sighed pinching the bridge of her nose. “Think!”

“Please restate command,” the computer replied. 

“Not you,” Shrin said in frustration.   She had been going at this all day and had made no progress.  Suddenly inspiration struck, “Computer bombard sample with 100 Seiverts of Gamma radiation.”

“Warning: 100 Seiverts of Gamma radiation is a lethal dose.  That procedure is not recommended.”

Shrin growled her fingers dancing over the console,  “I’m not asking for your opinion computer.”  She finished the final touches on the protective force field. After entering her command codes she dosed the blood dilithium with a heavy amount of radiation.

At first there was no effect, but slowly but surely the red faded from the crystal leaving the milk-white crystal of typical dilithium,  but as the red left the dilithium Shrin could have sworn she heard screaming of someone in agony. 

The crystalline structure started to fall in on itself and it shrank back into subspace leaving only impurities behind.

“What on Andoria?” Shrin muttered surprised.   Fingers dancing over the console sensors confirmed.  For three seconds the blood dilithium had been normal run of the mill dilithium, but for whatever reason the crystal structure destabilized.

She destroyed another dozen samples using various doses of ionizing radiation.   She found the best combination was 2 Seiverts of Alpha radiation.   Unfortunately even then after thirty seconds that sample too disintegrate into sub-space.   And each time she snesed more than heard the screams, but it was getting to her.  

No longer able to stomach the screams and making no headway she wrote up a preliminary report for the captain detailing her progress,  and projections which indicated that removing the blood from the dilithium and still being able to use it was impossible.  She closed out the lab thankful to be away from that uneasy feeling she got from the red stuff.

A lone shuttle flew low over the ground with a roar of engines. Following the contour of the land it crested a snow capped peak and decended.  As the alpine gave way to evergreen forests the engines battered the tops of the trees. 

“Why couldn’t the dilithium be here,” Ensign Anthony Talon observed as he made a minor course correction. 

“Don’t let it fool you Ensign,”  Captain Órlaith Murphy remarked as she manipulated the shuttle’s sensors. “The mountains are just as deadly if not more so. In North America thirty some people die in avalanches every year. As a general rule a colder planet is a deadlier planet “

The mountain side leveled out to a large blue lake so calm it was mirror smooth  “But, it sure is pretty.  I bet the fishing is second to none ”

Órlaith considered it for a minute and shrugged,  “I’ll have to take your word for it Ensign. This grid is clear. Move on to the next one please.”

“Aye Captain,” Anthony adjusted the shuttle’s course. Silence fell between them. After a moment he spoke,  “ Ma’am I’m am sorry about what happened on the Markonian Outpost. It really was a misunderstanding. He mistook a hot hand and decent bluffing ability as cheating.”

“Yeah, I know. I spoke to Lieutenant Garza about it. He told me everything.  You two should have walked away, but I was young once. All of us oldsters were, and we’ve all made poor decisions. Granted I never lowered myself to a common bar brawl.  But, as they say it’s water under the bridge,  and no harm was done.”

“Tell that to my nose. It still isn’t right and I’ve been to Doc Mulder three times.”

Órlaith smirked sparing a glance at the pilot before turning her attention back to her sensor screen. “You gotta know how to read a room Ensign.  I know, easier said than done.  Where are you from?”

“Terra Alpha.”

“That’s a human colony near the Typhon Expanse isn’t it?”

Anthony shrugged,  “It’s not exactly close, but I guess it is in the general area.”  Anthony adjusted the shuttle’s course and the evergreen forests gave way to a lush green prairie broken only by the occasional disiduous tree. Kilometer after Kilometer this grassland  stretched off into the distance disturbed only by the winds. “Grew up on the ranches there. Knew how to ride before I could walk.  My dad got my mom pregnant with me when they were young. Caused quite a scandal at the time,” Anthony smirked.  My dad never did get to pursue his dreams.  Always working to take care of me.  It was a good life. I can’t complain.  Talons are a big family and there’s always a cousin you can run around with and cause problems with.”

“So you were a handful from the beginning,” Órlaith teased.

“Yes ma’am.  They say cowboys ain’t easy to love, we ain’t so easy to raise either.  We’d saddle up our horses in the morning and be gone until sundown, and we were usually doing things we shouldn’t, like riding through downtown Riley City, and ordering burgers from a the local drive through horseback.”

“Must have been one hell of a childhood. So is Admiral Talon related to you?”

“Rebecca Talon? Yeah, she’s my aunt.  She married my Uncle Milo before I was born.”

“I served under her on the Erebus when she was still a captain.”

“I’ll be damned. It’s a small fleet.  I used to run about with Liv and Aimee on that ship from time to time.  We probably crossed paths.”

Órlaith considered it for a moment and nodded, “Seems likely.” She sighed looking at her data.  Transporter signature should have dissipated by now.  Let’s call off the search.  Return to Telluride and let’s come up with a new plan.”

Anthony nodded, entered commands into the helm and the shuttle rose into the sky rolling in turning back to their mining settlement. 

Diego was sleeping peacefully on his cot in the back of the security office.  Must of the crew were being billeted in the communal barracks.   He preferred more solitude than that could offer.  Besides this meant the security office had someone in here 25/7.

Something woke Diego.   He lay motionless staring up at the dark ceiling and letting his other senses take over. Something had awoken him.  Then he heard it, the soft shuffle of boot over sandy floor. The tiny bits of silica made a soft grinding sound as they were crushed between sole and floor. The individual was moving towards him.

He had his hand under his pillow already when he was asleep. Slowly his fingers wrapped around the grip of his phaser pistol. In a smooth motion Garza threw off his blankets and leveled his phaser, but as he did so a beam of energy hit Diego in the chest.

He gasped in shock, his eyes wide in terror.  The phaser fell from his loosening grip and clattered to the floor never discharged.   A second later the alien had stopped the energy beam and Diego slumped back into bed.  He twitched in spasm for a few seconds and then silence. 

Ensign Anthony Talon entered the silent security office.  The suns were up and it was already getting hot.  He wiped the sweat from his brow missing the protection his old Stetson provided.  “Hey Gramps! Rise and shine buddy! The captain wants to see us on this Green case.”

There was silence. 

Anthony frowned. The computer clearly indicated that Garza was in the security office.  Pushing through the door that lead to the back part of the office where the holding cells were Garza slept.  “C’mon Gramps. You can’t sleep all day.”

His heart sank seeing Garza.  He lay face down on the floor, with his legs still in the cot. He dropped to Garza’s side, “Talon to Crazy Horse! Medical emergency: two to beam up!”

A second later Anthony and Garza were in sickbay. “Come on buddy wake up!” Anthony pleaded slapping the older man’s cheeks which were cold to the touch.

“What the hell happened?” Dr. Mulder demanded as she and several nurses lifted Gaza onto a biobed.

“I don’t know,” Anthony said stepping back and out of the way. 

Dr. Mulder opened her tricorder and scanned her patient.  Any sense of urgency was now gone. “Sickbay to the Captain.  You better come down here.”

“On my way.”

“What are you doing?” Anthony demanded something hitting him in the pit of the stomach. “Do something for him.”

Dr. Mulder frowned and placed a hand on Anthony’s shoulder, “Ensign I’m sorry.”

“No!” He replied stepping back. “Do something…”

“Ensign, he’s dead, and according to my scans he died six hours ago. There’s nothing I can do.”

Anthony blinked the rational mind taking over from the emotional. He knew the doctor was telling the truth.  He knew it when he first found him, but something kept himself from accepting it.  Approaching his friend Anthony looked down.  “Sorry buddy.  What happened?”

Dr. Mulder shrugged,  “I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

Anthony nodded and stepped back to get out of the way.  And stood guard over his friend.  Dr. Mulder sighed and closed the scanning apparatus around her patient.  She entered commands into it and by the time Captain Órlaith Murphy entered sickbay flanked by Commander Kevan Torin.  Commander Torin was covered in dust from the moon.

“Doctor, Ensign,” Órlaith acknowledged as they approached.  “What happened?”

Mulder drew back the sheet to reveal Garza’s lifeless face, “Ensign Talon discovered Lieutenant Garza at 0901 and called in a medical emergency.” Drawing the sheet back over Garza she turned to the Captain and XO.  “Lieutenant Garza was DOA.  Cause of death is… well for lack of a better term massive internal organ failure though that’s not exactly what happened. Lieutenant Garza’s lungs, liver, heart, kidneys, and parts of his spinal cord were surgically removed.”

“Removed how?” Órlaith asked in shock.

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it. I am running this through the Federation database,  but it’s going to take the computer some time to figure out.”

Anthony was white as a ghost,  “Could the organs have been beamed away?”

Dr. Mulder considered it for a moment, “Not any transporter I know of, but yes, I suppose they could have.”

Torin realized where Anthony was going, “Vidiians.”

“Vidiians!” Órlaith and Dr. Mulder exclaimed in surprise.

“It makes sense,” Anthony continued.  “The use of a planet with or displaying dilithium as a way to bait ships and crews to visit the planet wouldn’t be the first time they’ve done that.”

“And the desert has a way of hiding secrets and destroying evidence,” Órlaith said thinking out loud. “Now that we know who we are looking for now what do we do?”

“We find them,” Anthony growled. 

“And then what Ensign?” Órlaith asked. “We are far out of Federation jurisdiction,  and this is…”

“The Devore claim this territory,” Anthony replied.

“That’s a dicey admission,” Órlaith said glancing at her first officer.

“That would delegitimize our claim that we are in unclaimed interstellar territory, and we would be subject to their laws,” Torin observed.

Órlaith thought for a moment.  “Get what you can of the normal dilithium,” she said to Torin.  “At this point I don’t give a damn about that blood dilithium.  In the meantime I will contact the Devore.  Mr Talon, we need a chief of security. Do you feel up to the task?”

Anthony nodded solemnly,  “Yes, ma’am.” 

“Good. Work with Commander Hayden and see about tracking down the Vidiians.  They have already murdered two of my crew I am not going to allow a third.”  With decision made Órlaith turned on a heel with Torin following leaving Anthony and Dr. Mulder alone in sickbay. 

“Are you really up to this Ensign?” The doctor asked. 

“Honestly? No, I’ve never served in security.   I’ve had training obviously,  but this is…”

“You have big shoes to fill,” Dr. Mulder replied.  

Anthony nodded. 

“I think the Lieutenant would he proud of you.”

Anthony glanced over at the biobed, “I hope so.  Excuse me Doc, I have work to do.”

Dr. Mulder nodded, “Good luck Ensign.”

Lt. Marcus Washington stood behind the EMH control panel and tapped out commands. “Here it goes.”

The Federation’s latest iteration of the Emergency Medical Hologram shimmered into existence.  “Please state the nat…nate…nate..ture o..o..o..f the med…,” the EMH spoke before the program completely crashed.

“Damn!” Marcus swore.

“We are forcing a sophisticated program onto a computer that neither was designed for. It would be like trying to run a holonovel on a calculator.” Lt. Commander Erin Hayden observed.

Marcus sighed,  “Then we need to force it… somehow.”  Marcus has spent the majority of his career on the Crazy Horse and never on a ship with an EMH.  This was out of his area of expertise and he had hoped the Sojourner’s Cheif Engineer who did have experience with this program could help them.

USS Sojourner – Engineering 

Lieutenant Belania was assisting Thanen, the Chief Engineer as they continued to review the holo matrix and EMH programme on the Sojourner trying to figure out why it wasn’t working. No matter what they did, what diagnostics they ran everything came back in the clear. 

“I just don’t get it,” Belania said as she rubbed just behind her lobes. Whenever she got frustrated a pressure headache always seemed to start there. “Nothing seems to be wrong. Maybe we should have wiped it and done a full reinstall from the backup.”

Thanen shook his head, clearly frustrated as well. “Maybe…but I think there is something else going on. It almost seems like the programme is purposely changing to prevent the activation. We’ll get it.”

Before Belania could respond a young Ensign ran over. “Sir, incoming communication from the a Lieutenant Commander Hayden on the Crazy Horse.”

“Thank you Ensign,” Thanen responded, “I’ll take it in my office. Belania try realigning the matrix and routing it through holodeck 1 this time. Never know right.”

A moment later Thanen walked into his office and activated the computer. “Commander Hayden, what can I do you for?”

“I was hoping you had more experience with EMH programs.  We are having problems integrating one into our ship’s computer.” Erin replied. 

Thanen’s entire body slumped and he signed, “Cursed EMHs. We are currently having issues with ours. After we, well the new senior crew, arrived on the Sojourner, its EMH shut down. Let me get Belania and we can run through what your issue is.”

He tapped his combadge, “Thanen to Belania, can you come to my office? Commander Hayden on the Crazy Horse is having some issues with their EMH. I think we should be able to help.”

A moment later Belania walked in, “Commanders,” she said with a nod.

“So Commander Hayden, what exactly is the issue you have been having? I am not familiar with the setup of the Crazy Horse and its EMH.” 

“We haven’t had one, and we are trying to get this old computer to accept the EMH code.  The problem crashes almost immediately after it’s activated.”

Belania nodded as she listened, “Ah, have you tried running it through the holodeck to see if your holodeck is able to process the programme? At the very, lest get the EMH up. If so it could be that the computer is accessing the whole programme at once including the entire medical library; thus straining the system.  What circuitry are you running, has the Crazy Horse, been upgraded to include the latest bio-neural gel packs? If not we have a few dozen on board, I think we could send your way.” She paused and looked at Thanen, “If the chief agrees that is.”

Thanen chucked under his breath, “Happy to help in any way we can.”

Washington laughed,  “Bio-neural circuitry came out 40 years after this ship launched.  We’re lucky we’re dealing with isolinear circuts. And no, we haven’t tried running it though the holodeck.”

Belania unsuccessfully tried to hide a groan of annoyance when Washington spoke. “Oh. Well. I would try the holodeck and we can send some bio-neural gel packs your way. Our shuttle can be with you in 6 hours. I think you could work them into the holographic matrix linking it to your computer core for just the EMH. Might take a bit of a workaround but should be straightforward.”

“If you agree I am pretty sure we can have Ensign Tycon depart shortly with the packs.”

“No sense in doing all that.  I couldn’t even guess how long it would take to retrofit the Crazy Horse with gel packs.  If we thought adding an EMH was putting a square peg in a round hole that really is.  We’ll try the holodeck and go from there,” Washington said. 

“You sure? Is easy enough to get them to you?” Thanen said before continuing, “Either way give the holodeck a go and let us know how it works. If you can stabilize the projection there it should be able to transfer to the emitter system you have set up relatively easily. The main issue will be the flow of data from the main computer. You could try setting up a standalone data circuit with the isolinear chips for the EMH to cut down on the risk of the system overloading?”

“You think it’s too much data or too little at a time?  I wonder if we could use an AI algorithm to tap into both the primary and secondary computer cores. Utilize the added processing power to work as a predictive program to queue needed data and have it ready to be used,” Marcus suggested. 

Thanen glanced at Belania who nodded, “I think it is the volume of data. Your suggestion could work well. Give it a go an let us know.”

“I appreciate the consult,” Erin said. “Crazy Horse out.”

Thanen turned to Belania once the screen switched to the rotating logo of Star Fleet, “Nice to know we aren’t the only ones with EMH issues. Pitty we didn’t know about it during the refuelling though. We could have helped them through it in person.”

Belania nodded in agreement, “Pretty sure they will sort it. Hayden and Washington seemed to know their stuff. They will likely have it sorted before we can get ours to work. I will see about doing what we told them ourselves. Maybe realigning the matrix and using the holodeck will give us a clearer idea.”

“Let me know if you need a hand. If I can I will join you if not Anahis can give you a hand.” Thanen said as he turned to leave the office. “I need to have a chat with the Captain.”

Ensign Anthony Talon and Lt. Commander Erin Hayden sat around the sensor station at the back of the bridge on the USS Crazy Horse.  Anthony was manipulating the controls as the latteral sensors on the massive starship scanned the planet below.

“I don’t even know where to start.  We know they can conceal their EM signatures from being read from orbit,” Anthony said.

“Okay, let’s assume people don’t change. What do we know about the Vidiians?” Erin asked.

“They are desperate.   Shunned by the larger galactic community like lepers” Anthony replied. 

“What else?”

Anthony thought trying to remember Voyager’s mission reports.  As a kid he was obsessed with Voyager, and Tom Paris had been a hero of his. But, he hadn’t read some of these reports in ten years or more.

“They uh…”  then the memory fragment clicked into place, “their first encounter had them in caves displaying false dilithium signatures.  There was a lab and support facilities concealed in those caves.”

“They probably used a planet with real dilithium this time because people figured them out,” Erin replied. 

“Yeah, probably,  but there are caves!” Anthony said excitement in his voice. He tapped out commands on the computer and brought up a map surrounding their settlement.   Entering additional commands the cave locations were marked on the map with red dots.  “Look at this.  This is a cave we have yet to explore and it has a direct line of sight on the dilithium mines.” He drew a straight line between the two locations with the tip of his finger. 

“As good a place to start as anywhere,” Erin replied. 

Anthony nodded, “Let’s get these…”  He cleared his throat realizing the unchraritable language he was about to use.  

Erin placed a hand on Anthony’s,  “For Diego.”

☆     ☆     ☆

Armed with phaser rifles seven Starfleet officers materialized outside the cave that Anthony and Erin had identified. Commander Torin peered suspiciously into the dark cavern.  Anthony scanned the area with a critical eye while Erin used a tricorder. 

“I am not picking up any lifesigns. The cavern extends 100 meters and splits. No indication of any power readings,” Erin reported reading her tricorder. 

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Torin replied bitterly

“Nothing is ever easy,” Anthony added.

“Let’s go,” Torin said and lead the group of officers into the inky blackness. They used the beacons of their rifles to light the way.  The floor of the cavern was rocky that left no sign of passage and the walls were narrow and claustrophobic. The air had a stale earthy smell.

At the split  they paused. “Left or right?” Torin asked.

Erin shrugged not looking away from her tricorder, “I’m still not reading anything but rock on the tricorder.   Fifty-fifty.”

“Might as well take the left one,” Torin announced moving with decision. 

“This cavern extends another twenty meters,” Erin informed.  “Still no energy signatures or lifesigns.”

The walls opened up and this branch came to an abrupt end.  “I’m reading rock for as far as the tricorder’s range.  Hold on.  This section is two degrees warmer.  I have no explanation.”

“Well, let’s do a little digging and see what we find,” Torin responded as he stepped away from the wall.

He raised his rifle and aimed it at the warm spot Erin had indicated. Anthony did the same thing and they fired in unison.   After a second or two the rock wall gave way to an artificial corridor.  It was round in its construction with red rust steel support beams in an arch from floor to ceiling.   Lamps hung from the ceiling illuminating the corridor. 

“The corridor matches conventional Vidiian architecture,” Erin said.

“Well, it’s good to know they haven’t changed tactics much,” Anthony added.  

“Stay on your toes people,” Torin ordered and pushed on into the Vidiian facility.  After following the corridor they entered an empty room.  The walls were lined with biological samples from floor to ceiling.   A simple stainless steel table not unlike that of a coroner’s autopsy table sat in the center of the room spotlighted under a bright light. 

“Reading epidermal,  pulmonary,  cardiac,  and digestive organs from at least a dozen species. Hirogen,  Kazon, Tallaxian, Devore, Brenari, and others,” Erin reported.

“This must be a warehouse for some sort of… dark harvest.” Torin commented. 

The tricorder beeped and Erin hesitated at a tank holding a pair of lungs, “These are human.”

Torin sighed knowing the implications and moved to stand next to Erin. “Who?”

“I belive this is Crewman Green.”  The tricorder made several more alarms, “Liver, kidneys,  heart, and peices of epidermis all match Crewman Green.”

“I hoped he just got lost,” Anthony observed. 

“There was little hope for that,” Torin replied, “Considering what happened to Mr. Garza, but I agree with you Mr. Talon.  This is a fate I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy.”

Anthony sighed and looked around,  and there was a cargo bay door at the back of the room.  He walked over to it.  Finding a control panel he pressed a button and the massive doors parted and slid into the ceiling and floor.

The massive cargo bay beyond was filled with crates, barrels of varying sizes.  In the center sat a Vidiian ship with its cargo ramp lowered and a pair of Vidiians struggling to load a heavy crate into their ship. They dropped it and the crate made a heavy thump on the floor and grabbed their weapons and ducked behind it using it as cover.

“Look out!” Anthony shouted as he took shelter.   The Starfleet officers dove for cover as the phaser fight ensued. Sample containers exploded sending glass, liquid, and bits of organ everywhere.

The Starfleet attack was equally ineffective as their phaser bolts slammed into the crate.  After several minutes of an exchange in weapons fire the two Vidiians fled into their ship closing the ramp behind them and the engines roared to life.  

The ship lifted off the cargo bay floor and pushed through the force field hiding the base from the outside world and was gone.  Torin ran into the cargo bay in a futile effort to stop the Vidiians.  Slapping his combadge, “Torin to Crazy Horse, there’s a Vidiian ship leaving the planet.”

The Vidiian ship broke through the clouds and into open space as the USS Crazy Horse was coming around to intercept.  With weapons charged the Federation closed the distance.

“We are in weapons range,” Chief Petty Officer Darren Collins announced from tactical. “Reading two life signs.”

“Target engines and fire!” Órlaith ordered.

Reddish-orange beams of energy lanced out from the saucer and on either side of the deflector dish.  The phaser beams slammed into the alien ship and it shuddered under the onslaught. 

“Warp engines are disabled.”

“Good shooting Chief,” Órlaith said, “Hail them.”

The NCO entered commands into the console and at made the open frequencies sound effect a moment later, “Channel open captain.”

“Vidiian vessel this is Captain Órlaith Murphy of the Federation Starship.  Stand down.”

There was a long pause.  Órlaith turned to the tactical station and the Chief shook his head, “They are receiving,  they just aren’t responding.”

“Can we beam them off the ship?”

“Shields are still active ma’am.”

“They are adjusting course and powering weapons,” Operations announced. The ship shook over a volley of weapons fire.

“Report,” the captain demanded.

“Direct hit minimal damage,” Tactical replied.  “Their ship is far more maneuverable. Having difficulty locking on.”

“Helm stay on them!”

“Aye captain,” the helm replied. 

The Crazy Horse rolled and banked hard to the left as the alien ship slipped away from them and ducked through the asteroid field.   It had gotten a head start, but the Crazy Horse’s impulse engines were far more powerful and were closing in.

The Vidiian ship started dropping torpedoes using them as mines , and the pursuing Federation struck several of them illuminating the shields and exploding several consoles aboard the ship.

“Report!” Órlaith demanded.

“Shields holding at sixty percent.   Damage to Deck Nine: Forward.  Damage control teams are en route,” Operations reported.

“Chief,” Órlaith spoke, “We may not get another chance make your shots count.”

“Should I load torpedoes?”]

The captain considered that for a moment and then nodded, “Proceed, just don’t use them unless you have to.”

“Understood. Closing in on the Vidiian ship.  Weapons range in five seconds.”

The alien ship rolled right and ducked around a Class J planet using the gravity well to slingshot it around the planet and achieve nearly light speed, but the Crazy Horse was right on its tail and used the same trick. “In weapons range,” the Chief spoke as he pressed the fire button.  The phasers slammed into the back of the Vidiian ship and the smaller craft shuddered and then the lights flickered on and off for a second before going out completely and the ship started to tumble out of control with a dead stick.

“Enemy ship is disabled,” Chief Collins announced. 

“Beam the occupants directly to the brig,” Órlaith ordered.

“Unable to get a lock,” Operations announced.  “There’s too much radiation present. If I had a combadge or transporter enhancers that should give me enough to lock on to.”

“Status of life support?”

“Minimal,” Operations replied, “but breathable.”

Órlaith stood from her center seat, “Bridge to Doctor Mulder. Please report to the bridge.  Chief Collins assemble an away team, and meet me in Transporter Room One

“Aye captain,” the NCO replied, and headed off the bridge making calls to various security personnel on the ship

A few moments later the Assistant Chief Medical Officer walked onto the bridge concern on her face expecting a medical emergency to see an orderly ran bridge.  “Ma’am?”

“Doctor, thanks for coming.  The ship is yours.”

 Her eyes went wide in surprise, “Ma’am?”

“Doctor, you are the highest ranking officer on this ship other than me right now. I’m going over to that Vidiian ship.  The Crazy Horse is yours.”

“Aye captain,” Dr. Mulder replied the implications sinking in.

“You’ll do fine doctor,” Órlaith said as she walked to the back of the bridge and disappeared inside the turbolift.  Dr. Mulder uncomfortably slid into the captain’s chair.  She was not prepared for this, but she also didn’t think the captain would have put her in command if there was a major threat to the ship at hand.  

“Keep a continual lock on the away team, and beam them back at the first sign of trouble.”

“Aye Captain,” Operations said looking over her shoulder at Dr. Mulder and giving her a grin.

☆     ☆     ☆

Órlaith materialized in the dark hull of the Vidiian ship. The air was thick with smoke.  The popping and groaning of the hull illustrated how much damage had been inflicted on the ship.  She switched hands with her phaser pistol, flexed her fingers and wiped the sweat from her palms.

“Two life signs ten meters ahead in a compartment that I think is the bridge,” Chief Collins reported reading from his tricorder.

Órlaith nodded and lead the team forward ducking under a fallen beam and climbed over the debris of a wall caused by an exploded EPS conduit.  They came to the doors to the bridge and Collins with the help of another security officer pulled it apart to grant access.

The two Vidiians were still sitting at their stations with defeat on their damaged faces.  “You are under arrest for the murder of two of my crew,” Órlaith said without preamble.

“It is a matter of survival,” one of them wheezed. 

“I sympathize with your situation,” Órlaith, but that doesn’t give you the right to kill someone else to extend your life.  If you had just came to us we might have been able to help you, and you know that, but instead you opted for your sick harvest.”

“What is it that you are going to do to us?” the other one asked.

“The Devore have claimed this territory as their own.  I will let their legal system take care of you,” Órlaith said coldly. Tapping her combadge, “Murphey to Crazy Horse. Six to beam directly to the brig.”

A moment later the transporter beam swept them away leaving the Vidiian ship to it’s fate.

Marcus stared down at the console watching the transfer screen complete.  He hesitated before continuing.  It had been nearly two weeks of fighting this system.  So far the EMH program had proven to be a most difficult and aggravating experience.   The software was proving to be incompatible with the hardware.

“So?” Erin asked.  “Did it download from the holodeck mainframe?”

Marcus didn’t look at the commander still staring at the button marked “initialize”.

“Hey, Marcus!” Erin called her voice pitched up to catch his attention.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah it’s done.”

“Then let’s see if it works,” Erin urged.  “It worked on the holodeck.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. I suppose we could recreate sickbay there.”

Erin shifted and placed her left hand on her hip, “Marcus stop stalling and just load the program.”

Still Marcus hesitated, “Schrodinger’s Program.  Until I hit that button it is both working and not working.”

“Oh for God’s sake!” Erin said exasperated, and reached over the console and hit the initialize button herself.

The EMH materialized, “Please state the nature of the medical emergency.”

Marcus let out a long sigh of relief.  “Initiate diagnostic protocols,” he said to the holographic doctor. “I am initiating a level 3 diagnostic of the recognition and diagnostic subroutines.”

Erin moved to a nearby console and started scrolling though the pages of data, “I’m not seeing an errors. How about you?”

“Everything seems to be working properly.  Do a diagnostic on that predictive algorithm.”

“Sure,” Erin replied as her fingers danced over the console.  “It’s working perfectly.  The auxiliary computer core is handling it without any issues.

“I think it’s working perfectly. I can’t believe it.”

“Well, when you beat your head against a wall long enough when you finally do pound your way though it you begin to doubt your own eyes.”

Marcus laughed, “So it would seem.” Entering commands he took the EMH out of the diagnostic state.  Turning to the EMH he spoke, “Identify yourself.”

The EMH blinked, “I am the Emergency Medical Hologram, Mk. X. I am currently assigned to the USS Crazy Horse.”

“Do you know where you are at?” Marcus asked.

“Of course I know where I am at,” The EMH replied annoyance in his voice. “Sickbay.”

“Well, it appears recognition sub-routines are working,” Erin observed.  “Could do with an improvement in the bedside manner department.”

“Madam I am a doctor, not a stand-up comedian. You want friendly go to a restaurant.”

“Some of Doctor Zimmerman’s personality is seeping though,” Marcus commented amused.

“I could care less about how nice he is, can he be a doctor?” Doctor Mulder said injecting herself into the conversation.  “You have a patient with a compound fracture of the fibula. What do you do?”

The EMH accessed the files for a fraction of a second. Due to the unusual installation his processing capabilities would be delayed, but would still be as good as any flesh and blood doctor. “Administer 20ccs of anethrizine.  Stabilize any damage to soft tissue, especially blood vessels.  Set the bone by grabbing the ankle and thigh and pulling until the bones are aligned.  In rare cases a laser scalpel is needed to dissect the the muscle to remove bone fragments and foreign debris. Secure the bone with micro staples and regenerate with a oseteo-regenerator. Irrigate the wound liberally with an antiseptic solution and use a dermal regenerator to close the wound. Administer antibiotics to preempt any bacteria that was not removed during the cleaning process.”

Doctor Mulder looked like the weight of the world had been lifted off of her, “He’ll do. Doc, you have sickbay.” She handed the EMH the PADD she was holding along with her medical tricorder. “Thank you two. You are life savers,” she gave Marcus and Erin a tired smile and walked out of sickbay.

“Excuse me!  I am a supplemental program.”

“Doc,” Marcus interjected.  “Doctor Mulder is the only doctor on this ship. She had been doing the work of three doctors for two weeks now. She’ll be here if you need her, but I expect she’s going to crawl into bed and sleep until tomorrow.”

The EMH processed the information and nodded to Marcus, “Your explanation is acceptable.  You should endeavor to get replacement doctors the next time at starbase.”

“We’ll do that,” Erin said with a conspiratorial grin at Marcus.  “Let’s get out of here. The Lodge is having live music tonight.”

Marcus grinned, “That sounds like a great way to unwind.” He fell in step with Erin and headed for the exit, “See you around Doc.”

“I’ll be here,” The EMH replied, “It’s not like I can go anywhere.”

“Two Devore warships are entering the system,” Ensign Anthony Talon reported from the tactical station. “Should I raise shields?”

Órlaith waved a dismissive hand, “We invited them remember ensign?”

“Aye captain,” Anthony replied.

The two warships navigated easily through the asteroid field and exited obscured by the massive silhouette of Gantz IV.  Circling the gas giant they intercepted the Crazy Horse with their weapons armed and shields up. Órlaith could feel a lump of tension in the back of her throat.  Something in the back of her mind told her that this was a bad idea, but at this point there was no turning back.

“We’re being hailed,” Lt. Commander Erin Hayden announced from the operations console.

The screen switched to the interior of the Devore ship with a man dressed in black. “Have you received our documents?” The Devore inspector asked with out any preamble.

“Yes,” Órlaith replied.

“Follow inspection protocols and this will be painless.” With that, the transmission was cut and the screen returned to the slowly rotating blue orb of Eden. 

“Not very conversational,” Commander Torin joked.

Órlaith shrugged.  “We did threaten them last time.”

“What’s this ‘we’?” Torin teased, “You have a gothsin mouse in your pocket? I certainly didn’t threaten anyone.”

“Ha ha ha,” Órlaith replied sarcastically. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“Captain, will you report to your ready room,” an unfamiliar voice came over the main speakers.

Órlaith gave Torin an expression mixed with annoyance and resigned indignation at being ordered to her own office. Standing she headed for the ready room with Torin at her side. “I really hope this isn’t a bad idea,” she repeated.

“It is, but we had a choice, and to be honest I don’t think any of those choices were particularly good.”

“No, they weren’t,” Órlaith said as she stepped through the threshold of her office.

The Devore inspector sat in Órlaith’s chair with is spit-polished black boots propped up on the desk. “Hello captain,” he greeted.  “I am Inspector Orten.  Before we get started I ask for a little honesty here.  Are you harboring any telepaths on this ship?”

Órlaith steeped fully into the room and the door closed behind her and Torin.  She looked at the Devore inspector with distaste but did not speak her mind. “No. We do have several assigned to the ship, but they are on temporary reassignment due to the deleterious effects of the red dilitihium we are calling ‘blood dilitihium’.” 

The Devore smiled, “How cleaver of your people to call it that. You have no idea how correct you are.  I want to make this inspection as painless as possible. You cooperate and follow the directions included in you packets this will not take long, and you can be on your way.”

“We are mining this moon,” Órlaith objected.

Orten spread his hands in fake contrition, “We Devore are nothing if not reasonable, but we cannot afford to allow you to take our resources without some compensation.”

Órlaith considered it for a moment, “The blood dilitihium is not usable to us.  Perhaps we could refine it for you. We keep the regular dilitihium.  You won’t need to refine it and can immediately put it to use.”

Orten considered the deal for a moment and then nodded, “Assuming you are not lying and not harboring fugitive telepaths I think I can trust you and we can probably come to a deal.”

Órlaith was not sure she wanted anything to do with this moon any more, but Starfleet had sent here to develop the resources here.  Thus, it was her duty to follow through with those orders despite what her personal feelings were on the subject.  Besides her tenure here in the Delta Quadrant was coming to a close. It would be someone else’s problem.

“You won’t. I am not lying about that.  I sent you the ship’s logs that should have answered that.”

Orten smirked, “I have been doing this a long time captain, and I find that ship’s logs are often too easy to falsify. You’ll forgive my suspicion I hope.”

“I think I can accommodate that,” Órlaith responded dryly.

“Oh come now Captain!” He exclaimed sitting up. “If you are to mine this moon, you and I will be seeing a lot of each other.  There is no sense in the hostility.”

“To be frank,” Órlaith said flatly, “I don’t like the Devore Imperium, and I don’t like you.  You are butchers and murders.”

Orten sat back in the chair to take the Federation captain in.  He did not respond at first and let the silence fall on the room.  Leaning forward with his elbows on the desk and steepling his fingers.  “I do what is necessary to protect my people from the scourge of telepaths. They cannot be trusted, and you are foolish to integrate them into your society.  It is because of this your Federation is weaker than it would be otherwise.”

“Try us and we’ll show you how weak we are,” Torin spoke suddenly after being quiet this whole time.

Orten sighed, “I have no desire to quarrel.  Let’s just leave it at that shall we.”

Orten’s communicator suddenly chirped. Activating it he spoke into it, “This is Inspector Orten.” Órlaith couldn’t quite make out the words being spoken by a male individual on the other end of the line. “Thank you Grantz.  Good work,” Orten replied and closed the transmission.  “Well captain, good news.  I would appear that there are no telepaths on this ship. Just as you said there weren’t.  I must say, this would have been much easier if you had submitted to an inspection the first time. Much less suspicion would have been cast on you.”

“I don’t like bullies,” Órlaith said with an edge to her voice, “but circumstances have changed.”

“Would that be the two Vidiians you are holding in your jail?”

Órlaith tried not to react to that information.  But to be honest she knew that they would be discovered, it was just grating on her that she did not have any resemblance of an upper hand on Orten.  Not even something so trivial as her two guests. 

“Yes,” she said simply. “They murdered two of our crew, and since you claim this territory then it is your jurisdiction is it not?”

Orten smiled as he realized why Órlaith had relented to the searches and invited them to do so, “So, that’s why you relented isn’t it captain?”

“Yes,” she said simply.

“And what if the penalty for murder is death?”

“Then I ask that you spare their lives.  I can’t condone what they have done, but I can sympathize.”

Orten considered her words for a moment, “There are indeed extenuating circumstances.  I will take them off your hands and pass your wishes along to our judicial advocate.” Orten stood, bowed his head to Orlaith, “The office is yours. Until next time captain.”  He pressed a button on the sleeve of his uniform and he vanished in a transporter beam leaving the Captain and XO to their devices.

Captain Murphy,  Commander Torin, and Lieutenant Shrin say around the captain’s desk with the holographic display from the captain’s computer terminal relayed information.

“You’re telling me that blood dilithium has the souls of Brenari in it?” Shrin exclaimed her blue skin turning a shade lighter.”

“That’s what the Discovery’s report indicates,” Órlaith replied,  “as crazy as it sounds. Though,  I’m not sure if ‘soul’ is exactly the right word.”

“Telepaths can communicate with the Brenari inside the dilithium,” Shrin replied.  “I don’t know how else you would describe it. That explains where those eerie screams came from when she destroyed those samples.

Órlaith shrugged she couldn’t argue the logic even if it was a logic she thought she would never hear from a science officer. “I may have acted a bit hasty by removing all the telepaths from the crew.”

“I don’t think so captain.   You were acting in the best interest of your crew and ship.   It was a decision I support and one I still support,” Torin replied. 

Órlaith sighed and rubbed her temples to stave off a headache she felt coming on.

“Should we head to the Discovery’s last known location?” Torin asked. 

“Rescue ships are already en route,” the captain said. She sat back in her chair collecting her thoughts and organizing the events of this whole mission.   “It’s time to go home.”

“Aye captain,” Torin replied. “I agree.  And as much as I would like to give the Devore a black eye for the Discovery and the Brenari that is not something for us to decide.”

“Nor would we likely survive the fight,” Órlaith added, “but I do understand the impulse. Where are we with the dilithium mining?”

“As of this morning we have collected thrity tons of dilithium,” Torin replied. 

“That ought to make Starfleet happy.  Okay commander let’s go ahead and shut everything down.  We can leave the structures incase Starfleet wants to make a permanent colony out of it, but let’s get all our equipment back to the ship.”

“Aye captain. And the blood dilithium we owe the Devore?”

“To hell with the Devore,” Órlaith said bitterly.  “There’s places I’d like to tell Inspector Otren where to shove it too. Lieutenant Shrin you have the specifications for the probe correct?”

“Aye ma’am,” she replied.

“Get one built.  Use whomever you need to get it done.  We’re launching it tomorrow at 10:00.”

Torin raised an eyebrow at that.

“I’m done with the inspections, the Devore,  the Vidiians,  and sitting here waiting on bad news to come across my desk,” Órlaith answered Torin’s unasked question. 

Torin nodded. He didn’t care for the Devore, and he certainly wasn’t happy with the news that came out of the Discovery.   Both the destruction and origins of the blood dilithium. 

“I just wish I could communicate with the Brenari,” Shrin said suddenly. 

“Maybe you don’t l,” Torin said thoughtfully.  “For what I can tell from the reports they were suffering. It’s a depressing thought as is, I certainly am glad that I don’t know the details.”

Shrin shrugged,  “Their story needs to be told, and their… whatever… they should be remembered.   They should be honored.”

Órlaith sighed. Shrin wasn’t wrong, but there wasn’t much they could do about it.  “Let’s focus on freeing them, sticking it to the Devore at the same time.”

“The Devore won’t be happy,” Shrin replied. 

“Let’s us worry about the Devore,” the captain said giving the science officer a weak smile. “Okay, you two there’s a lot of work to do. You better get on it.”

Her two officers stood solemnly the news weighing heavy on their hearts.  And for Órlaith, it weighed on her as well.  She couldn’t help but feel like the fate of the Crazy Horse very well could have been the same as the Discovery after her initial defiance towards Inspector Orten. Sighing she rotated her chair to face the window behind her. With her cup of tea cradled in her hands she sought solace in its warmth. 

Captain Órlaith Murphy glanced down at her armrest controls.  The last of her crew had beamed up from the moon.  They would leave the infrastructure there in case the Federation decided to colonize the moon and develop it into a full scale dilithium operation.  All of that was in her final report.

Now it was time to rid themselves of the blood dilithium.   The Devore had been watching them closely ever since she conceded jurisdiction to them when she handed over a pair of Vidiian prisoners who had killed and harvested the organs of two of her officers.  Needless to say, the Devore had little more love for them than she did.

“Is the probe ready Ms. Shrin?” The captain asked her science officer. 

The Andorian turned from the science console.  We have recreated the probe exactly as the plans indicated from the Discovery.  I have my misgivings,  but they sacrificed themselves to use it so…”

Torin looked over at Órlaith,  “Are you sure you want to provoke the Devore.”

“No,” she responded honestly,  but if this blood dilithium is really what they think it is…  well I don’t see any other choice.”

Torin sighed, “I want to believe that that isn’t the case, but yeah… there’s something creepy about the stuff.”

Órlaith nodded, “Red alert.  Battle stations.”

“Aye captain,”  Ensign Talon said from the tactical station.  The bridge dimmed and the red alert klaxon blared. “Shields are up, phasers are powering and torpedoes ready.”

“We’re being hailed by Inspector Orten,” Lt. Commander Erin Hayden announced from the Operations station. 

“Ignore him,” Órlaith ordered.  “Helm plot a course out of the system. Markonian Outpost maximum warp on my mark.”

“Markonian Outpost,  aye,” The acting helm chief replied from the navigation station.

“Load the probe,” Torin said, his voice rising from the tension. 

“Probe ready,” Shrin replied.

“Captain the Devore ship is powering weapons. Inspector Orten is demanding to speak with you,” Erin announced. 

Órlaith looked over at Torin, “Last chance to get out of this before hell breaks loose.”

Torin smirked, “Crazy Horse is an old ship, but she’s a good one.  I have faith in her.”

“Faith won’t save us from Devore torpedoes,” Órlaith replied. 

“True, but I think we have a duty.”

“That’s the crux of the issue isn’t it?  It really isn’t about what we want. It’s about what is necessary,” Órlaith replied philosophically. 

“More Devore ships are entering the system,” Ensign Talon reported from tactical as the ship shuddered under a volley of Devore weapons. “Shields holding at 78 percent.”

“Fire the probe!” Órlaith shouted.

The probe arched across space and with a flash of light it entered the rift.  “Spectral readings are showing that concentrations of blood dilithium are decreasing in this system,” Shrin announced.  

There was no time to celebrate as a second and third Devore warship closed in on the Crazy Horse.   The pounding that the Excelsior-class was taking was deafening.  “Get us out of here!” Órlaith shouted. 

“I can’t establish a stable warp bubble,” the helm officer reported desperation in her voice. 

“Shields are falling at 53 percent,” Anthony reported. 

“Evasive maneuvers Kirk-epsilon-five. Mr. Talon target engines and fire!”

The Crazy Horse rolled left and pitched downward as a full array of phasers and torpedoes lashed out hitting the lead Devore ship.

“Direct hit, no damage,” Anthony reported.  “Shields failing.”

The comm chirped. “Engineering to bridge,” Lt. Marcus Washington’s voice came over the din, “Warp Core is going critical!”

“Eject the core!” Torin ordered. 

“I already did,” Washington replied.  

The warp core floated freely in space for a second before exploding which ripped one of the Devore ships apart which in turn damaged a second ship.

The shockwave slammed into the Crazy Horse and consoles exploded throughout the bridge. As systems started to fail all over the ship the hull groaned and popped under the strain caused from a failing structural integrity field. 

“Impulse engines offline,” Helm reported.

“Life-support is failing,” Erin added.

Órlaith pressed the all-call on her armrest, “All hands this is the captain, abandon ship. This is not a drill.”

The alarms around the darkened ship changed to reflect the need to proceed to escape pods. Smoke filled the air making it hard to breathe.   The gravity generators were starting to fail.

Órlaith picked her way across the debris strewn deck.  The helm officer had already left.

She tapped Erin on the shoulder,  “Go! Get out of here!”

“Aye captain,” Erin replied, stil tapping out controls.   After a moment she slid out of her station, “I think I got a distress signal out.  I hope.”

“Me too, but it’s time to think about yourself,” Órlaith replied.   “I’ll see you on Eden.”

“Aye captain.”

Órlaith was the last one to leave the bridge.   She paused to look back at what had been her home. “Computer initiate program Murphy: sixty-six-alpha.”

“Warning: this will erase all data on the computer and is unrecoverable.”

“Enable once ship’s logs are transmitted,” Órlaith committed. 

“Logs transmitted.  Computer erasure in fifteen seconds.  There will be no further countdown.”

Órlaith sighed and headed down the corridor to one of the last escape pods. She hoped that this would not be the last time she’d see this ship.

USS MacKenzie…

Harris sipped at his coffee as he sat in the center chair.  The morning was underway. Reports from the department chiefs had come through late last night and he was slowly working his way through the updates as the bridge crew briefly went through shift change.  Suddenly a harsh beep erupted from the communications station and Atega spun in her chair, slipping her earpiece in while her hands tapped at the console.  “We’ve got a distress call coming in from a nearby sector – we’re about half hour away.  Ship is identified as USS Crazy Horse.  Records indicate her CO is Captain Órlaith Murphy.”

Ambrose motioned to Prentice, “Plot an intercept course, maximum warp.  Engage when ready.”  He turned to his communications chief, “That’s one of the old Excelsior class ships still kicking around, isn’t it?”  He pulled his PADD out of the command chair arm and confirmed his concerns, “They still pack a punch…but I’d be worried about stacking them up against multiuple Devore ships.”  Harris returned his attention to Atega, “Keep an ear out.  Let Doctor Reid know what we’re headed into – have engineering teams standing by in case there’s something to save.”  He returned to his chair, “Red alert.” 

☆     ☆     ☆

The Excelsior II class ship dropped from warp and Harris immediately stood as the screen showed the scene.  The Crazy Horse was adrift and lifeless – no running lights and debris surrounded her as if protecting the aging ship.  He knew better.  “Chief Kondo, report?”

He quickly ran down what he could tell.  No shields.  No power.  Significant damage to all decks.  The bridge was intact.  There were no life signs aboard the Crazy Horse.  “I’m detecting wreckage from one Devore ship and another is critically damaged.  There is a third ship that just noticed us.”

Harris wasn’t about to wait, “Target the damaged Devore ship and fire..”  As Kondo ran his hands across the console the CO turned to face his science chief, “Any luck in finding the Crazy Horse crew?”  On the viewscreen the damaged enemy ship became a destroyed enemy ship as it exploded under heavy fire from the Mackenzie.

Fowler gave a nod, “We’ve traced most of the escape pods to moon orbiting a gas giant, but that’s not our biggest problem.”

Ambrose growled, “The Devore.  Chief Kondo, you are authorized to use quantum torpedoes on that ship.  Full attack spread at will.” The ship shook as the Mackenzie swung hard and the Devore swung back harder.  

De La Fontaine grinned menacingly and glanced at the chief helm officer to his left, “Will, let’s get dangerous.”  The young officer gave a nod and they began to move the Mackenzie into a complicated dance.  Prentice had proven himself a maverick at the most dangerous times in the academy.  It had put him on the Erigone as punishment but he had rebounded.  In this moment, he would have to let loose the old Will to push the Mackenzie from a slow moving Waltz into a frenetic Swing Dance backed by a full orchestra of weapons.

Prentice went to work on his console while muttering, “Let’s dance…”

☆     ☆     ☆

The Devore ship exploded into a fiery flower of destruction as Harris released the grip on the arms of his chairs. The shields had been battered to 60% but they had destroyed the enemy and could now work to get the crew of the Crazy Horse onboard.  Calog Tir was working with Fowler to identify the landing sites.  Reid had activated the triage and trauma teams.  

“We can’t leave her sir.”  Okada sat at her station as Harris leaned over her shoulder, looking at the screens.  She reported, “The Crazy Horse isn’t going to be able to get out on her own power – it would take at least a year in space dock to have a chance at repair.  We need to tow her out of here.  They would have wiped the computer banks…but taking such an iconic class of ship captive would be a win for any of our enemies our here.”

He sighed, “I’m guessing you’ve got a plan.”  She nodded and handed him a PADD.

“We can tractor beam her and then extend our warp bubble around her.  We’ll start out slow but we can increase our warp speed slowly until we’re at warp nine.”  She

Harris gave an approving nod, “It’s a good plan.  Coordinate with Lieutenant Tir about power requirements and who were going to borrow from to make this work. Put your plan into action.”  He moved to where his chief operations officer was sitting, earpiece in and hands crisscrossing his console, “Have someone find Captain Órlaith Murphy and get her to the bridge.”  

Calog spoke up, “Sir, we’re having problems communicating with the survivors.”  He nodded at his screen, “Science thinks the warp core explosion had an effect on the moon’s atmosphere that’s now affecting our communications systems.”

Ambrose chewed on his lip, “I’m guessing instead of the mountain coming to us we will go to the mountain.  Have Reid meet me in transporter room 1.  Chief Kondo, you have the CONN.” 

Eden Settlement…

“Whelp, here we are again. I didn’t expect to be back here quite so soon,” Commander Torin said shielding his eyes against the binary suns.

“Neither did I,” Órlaith replied, but let’s face it.  We did kick the hornet’s nest.  This should come as no surprise.”

The Trill first officer gave her a smirk, “No, it is no surprise.  Well, a little.  I didn’t expect reinforcements so quickly.”

Órlaith frowned, “You have a point there.”

“Captain,” Ensign Talon started as he approached the command team.  “Settlement is secure. I have regular patrols and sensor sweeps established.  Everyone is accounted for.  There are twenty-two injuries.   Doc Mulder is set up and taking care of them in the hospital.”

“Good work Ensign.  Let’s hope we won’t need those security measures, but the way this day is going…”

“Yes ma’am. Prepare for the worst,  hope for the best.”

“Exactly,” Órlaith said with a smile.

The whine of the transporter echoed over the area as a team of medical officers flanked a command officer who smiled at the gathered group.  Harris walked up to the officer with the captain rank pips and extended his hand, “Captain Ambrose Harris, USS Mackenzie.”  He glanced around, “I would say I’m here to rescue you but I think I’m just here to help you get home.”

“Órlaith Murphy,” she replied with surprise etched on her face. “USS Crazy Horse… or what’s left of it.”

Harris felt his heart reach out to her.  The loss of any ship was hard to accept, and having to abandon it without knowing what came next added to it.  “She’s still in one piece, Captain.  We took out the last Devore ships – Crazy Horse’s warp core gave us the advantage.”  He explained their plan to tow the Excelsior class ship back home.  “I don’t know if they’ll let us take her home through the wormhole, but we can at least give you and your crew a safe ride to the outpost,”

“I would appreciate that.  I think we are all ready to come home. Assuming you have the room for us all.”

Ambrose allowed a small smile, “Mackenzie’s an Excelsior II class – plenty of room for your crew, Captain.  We’d be honored to get the girl on her way home.”

Órlaith smiled, “Excelsior II?  Well, that seems fitting.  We have injured.”

Harris motioned to his medical team to step forward, “We’ll triage your people and get them checked out.”

“Thank you Captain.  I must say I am surprised at your quick response. We were settling in for the long-haul and expecting an attack from the Devore.  Maybe our fortunes are turning.”

He hoped that was the case as well.  “Sometimes the right people are in the right places at the right time.”

The senior officers of the USS Crazy Horse sat together after the simple service given for Lieutenant Garza. It was a somber event, but there were the occasional genuine laughs. 

“You should have seen Diego’s face when those Nauscicans threw me into those Hirogen,” Anthony said, laughing. 

“Knowing Diego, he was probably muttering something about being ‘too old for this shit,’” Erin added.

“Don’t know,” Anthony replied.   “I was too busy getting pummeled after that.”

“Serves you right for picking a fight with pirates,” Marcus said. 

“It wasn’t my plan. Not my fault he couldn’t play poker.”

“Regardless,” Órlaith said, “You two never should have been in that bar, to begin with.”

Harris stepped into the Officer’s Lounge and saw the group of Crazy Horse crew gathered.  He stood at the back of the room as the service began.  They were guests on his ship.  He had given orders to the quartermaster and hosting officers to ensure their new friends were well treated and met their needs.  The loss of a ship and a friend would weigh heavily on them.  He picked up a plate and tea, settled into a table off to the side, and started running through his PADD.  There was plenty of work to do.

Órlaith saw Harris enter and sit down alone. She knew the feeling all to well and crossed the room and sat down.

He glanced up and found the face of Órlaith Murphy sliding into the seat opposite.  He gave a nod, “Captain Murphy. I hope you’ve found Mackenzie welcoming.”  He downed a piece of his sandwich, “We’ll be sad to see you go.”  He glanced up.  He meant it.  Getting to know her crew had been a bonus to having them onboard.  New faces and new conversations seemed to help both crews process the experiences in the Delta Quadrant.

“More than welcoming.  I hope we haven’t been too much of a burden.”

Ambrose smiled, “You’ve been what we needed after coming back from the Delta Quadrant.  It’s a hard place…and it takes as much as it gives.”

Órlaith smiled, “Well, that’s something.”

He was quiet for a moment, “We lost five of our crew.  I lost a cousin.  A cousin I hated for most of my life.” He glanced up, “The service was very nice.  I’m sorry for your loss, Captain.  Empty spaces in our hearts seems to be a theme between our two crews.”

“Sorry for your loss.  Especially for a cousin.” She placed a hand on Ambrose’s hand, “I don’t know you,  but first impressions say they will be fine.” She indicated over to the table, “See the blonde. That’s Commander Hayden.  She’s the glue that holds this crew together.   Not me or Commander Torin. I sense you have that same…  je ne sais quoi as her.”

Harris let her comment hang in the air for a moment before responding, “I’ve only ever known how to lead this way, Captain.”  He gave her a nod of thanks, “My crew is the most important thing to me.  The only way for us to be the best we can be for each other…is to work together.”

Órlaith smirked, “It’s ironic that of all the Federation ships here in the Delta Quadrant it’s the Mackenzie that responded. Did you know my predecessor’s name was Mackenzie?” She sighed, looking at the table of Crazy Horse crew, “They’ve lost a Captain and XO. They lost a close friend,  and their home.”

A chuckle from Ambrose, “I think life likes to remind us of the good things in life with moments like this.”  He took a drink of his tea, “I thought Aoife was still missing in action.”

“Sure… in a manner of speaking,” Órlaith replied. 

“We’ve crossed paths off and on over the years.  I always thought she would have made a helluva Chief Engineer.”  Harris had followed her path and been impressed, even worshipped at her steps off and on.  “You make it sound like they’re going to declare her dead.”

“When Starfleet assigned me to the Crazy Horse, they declared Captain Mackenzie dead. It’s been over a year…”

Ambrose was quiet for a moment as her news worked through his heart, “I wondered why I hadn’t heard from her recently.  I kept meaning to look in on her….” he gave a slight shake of his head, “It’s going to sound like I’m denying reality…but Aoife Mackenzie is one of those captains that always seems to find a way.”  He gave her a look, “You think she’s still out there somewhere…somehow?”

“I don’t, but I don’t know her.  Her crew thinks she’s alive. Lieutenant Shrin and Commander Hayden are still trying to make that artifact work and bring them back.” 

He polished off his sandwich and stood, “One of my old CO’s once told me that hope is the most powerful tool in a Starfleet Captain’s toolbox.  Here’s to hope for all of us, Captain  Órlaith.”

Órlaith stood with Harris,  “It is. Very much so.” She hesitated,  “If you are free, you can join us if you’d like.”

Harris glanced at her team, who were still in the midst of telling stories that were eliciting equal parts laughter and tears.  He gave her a nod, “I appreciate the offer Ca…Órlaith, but I need to get back to my crew.”  He gestured to them, “Your crew may have some pieces missing, but they still sat with you in here today.  You believe Commander Hayden is the glue…and you’re probably right…but you’re part of the puzzle keeping them together in the middle of all this.  I suppose that’s what we do.  We do our best to keep them together.”  He smiled, “I’ll see you before you head out to the Outpost, Órlaith.  Thanks for the conversation.”  He gave one more nod and left the lounge.

She watched him walk out of the lounge.   She sensed he was troubled,  but it wasn’t her place to try to fix it.  Returning to her seat she just sat back and listened to the stories being told.

Órlaith sat alone at a table near one of the massive lounge windows looking forward from the USS MacKenzie.  She sipped a steaming cup of Earl Grey as she watched the stars streak by.  Then the streaks shank to white points as the ship dropped out of warp.  

The Markonian Outpost was small in the distance but it grew quickly before taking up the entire view. She sighed heavily. This was not how she envisioned coming home.

Okada walked into the lounge and spotted the CO of the Crazy Horse.  There had been a heaviness apparent on the sleeves of the orphaned crew.  The crew of the Mack had done their level best to reach across the aisle and help them feel their way through having to abandon their ship in a hail of weapons fire.  The counselors had been busy organizing some lower-impact events for the Crazy Horse to help them in what would be a challenging transition.  Okada was an engineer, and her ship was her love.  There was nothing greater in the world than the ships she had been lucky enough to serve on.  The Edinburgh and the Mackenzie were her greatest joys.  She cautiously walked to the replicator and ordered a large iced tea, and slipped into the seat across from the Crazy Horse captain.  “Captain Orlaith…Commander Katsumi…Chief Engineer.”

Órlaith gave Okada a curt nod, and returned her stare out the window.

“Your crew is pretty badass, sir…if you don’t mind me saying.”  She grimaced, “Sorry, I spend most of my time in the engine room these days.”  She rephrased, “They’re an incredible group of people you have, sir.”

Órlaith turned to face the engineer.  Refreshing her Earl Grey from the kettle, she took a sip before speaking,  “How so?”

Okada stared at the CO for longer than was probably acceptable before she spoke, “The reports from the moon and what you had set up in the time it took us to get to you…I was taking notes.  Captain Harris was beyond complimentary – you and your crew were self-sufficient beyond what any of us expected.”  She shook her head, “I sometimes think we’re really good at what we do on the Mack….but you all showed how it’s done.”

Órlaith gave her a polite smile, “The settlement was already built.  We were using it to mine dilithium on the planet.   Our original orders were to see if we could refine the blood dilithium into something Starfleet could use. That was a joke.   This whole mission has been one disaster after another.” 

She let out a heavy sigh, “But there’s thirty tons of normal dilithium in the hold if you need it unless the Devore already ransacked it.”

Okada peered at her as she spoke.  There was a wall the captain had set up against her.  Some weight was pushing on her shoulders, she thought.  She handed a PADD over, “It’s still in there.  Dunno if Starfleet will give it to us or send it somewhere else.”  She nodded at the PADD, “We had some time to work on evaluating the Crazy Horse.”  She paused and continued, “I think Lieutenant Washington needed something to do.  We used sensors and cameras…we managed to come up with a pretty solid report on the systems impacted.”  She shook her head, her voice dropping a few levels, ”She’s not in a great place, Captain.  She’ll need a minimum of six months in a dry dock. Even if we apply our best miracles, she’s going to be out of action for some time.”  It was her turn to let out a heavy sigh, “I’m sorry I didn’t have better news.”

“I hope Mr. Washington hasn’t driven you completely crazy.” She hid another sigh behind her tea. “An optimistic six months?  I won’t even pretend to guess what the fleet will do, but if I were making the decisions I wouldn’t put the resources into putting her back into service.

Katsumi thought for a moment, “I know this will sound…corny and borderline patronizing…but there is a light out there wherever you’re headed, Captain.  Space is a dark place…but there’s always something bright a sector or two over.”  She took a sip and stared out the windows, “We’re all just dust in the wind, I suppose.”

Órlaith smirked,  “Are you sure you’re an engineer?  You sound more like a counselor.”

Katsumi chuckled, “You start to get real metaphorical out here after a while.  Being chief means I gotta listen a lot…and figure out how to guide my crew through the emotional as much as the physical.”

The intercom suddenly beeped, =^=Captain Harris to Captain Órlaith, looks like they’re ready for you.  They’ve tractored the Crazy Horse over to the docks at the outpost – command’s ready for you and your crew.=^=

“Understood, Captain,” Órlaith replied.  “On behalf of my crew, thank you for coming to the rescue and getting us to safety.”

There was a quiet pause on the other end.  Katsumi felt it.  There was something special about the Crazy Horse and her crew.  The Mack being an Excelsior II class ship, held deep symbolism among both crews.  =^=On behalf of mine, you’re welcome, Captain.  I hope to see you and yours out there soon.  The Mack’s door is always open.=^=  The channel closed.

Katsumi stood and extended her hand, “Good luck, Captain Órlaith.  We’ll keep an eye and ear out for you out there.”

Órlaith smirked at the reversing of her name, but didn’t mention it. “Thank you, Commander,” she replied, extending her hand.  Katsumi accepted it.  She watched the captain leave, hoping all the best for her.

With her bag slung over her shoulder Órlaith made her way toward the airlock.  She was lost in her own thoughts when someone calling her broke her free of them.  Looking around, she found Ensign Anthony Talon.  “Ensign,” she greeted simply.

“So… I have a question,” he started with one of his mischievous grins. “I’m banned from the Markonian Outpost per your orders, ma’am.  Should I borrow a shuttle?”

Órlaith rolled her eyes, “Ensign,  I am pretty sure circumstances are a bit different than they were a month ago.  Just don’t go to that bar.”

Anthony smirked,  “I think I can manage.” Turning the corner to the airlock, Captain Harris was standing there. “Captain,” Anthony greeted.

Ambrose gave the man a curious look, “Captain Murphy.  Ensign.”

Órlaith paused next to Harris, “Go on, Ensign.”

“Aye, Captain, ” he said with a conspiratorial grin, turning and trotting down the gangway.

“Kids,” Órlaith said, exasperated.

Harris chuckled as he walked to stand at her side, “We were all young ensigns once.  I’ve got a chief helm officer who’s still working off the shame of his academy days.  They do grow up…eventually.”  He turned to her, “They given you any idea on what’s next for you and yours?”

“None,” Órlaith replied.   “General plan is to get back to the Alpha Quadrant and go from there. But…” she paused, “…let’s just say Command isn’t thrilled with how I handled the situation.  Thank God I had time to transmit the logs before I left.”

Ambrose understood, “I’ve had my share of Command troubles.  You’ll be home soon enough.”  He offered her one last handshake, “I wish you the best, Captain Mury – wherever the journey takes you.”

She smiled, “There’s a phrase amongst us pilots; Keep the blue side up, Ambrose.”  Ignoring his extended hand, she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a hug. “See you around, Captain.”  She turned and walked down the gangway without so much as a look back.

He watched her as she walked down the airlock and onto the outpost.  The hug had been a surprise, but a welcomed one.  If he’d been honest, he’d been tempted to give her one himself.  She was a kindred soul, and you didn’t find many of them out here.  He watched until she was gone from his sight.  He hoped to run into her again someday.  Captains in the fleet were a dime a dozen.  For every great one or good two, there were always three annoyances, four idiots, and a handful of whatthehells.  He turned his attention back to his ship.  The future was ahead.  

And they had work to do.

The USS Crazy Horse had been towed into the port unceremoniously by the USS MacKenzie. The ship was completely dead in the water so umbilicals from the Markonian Outpost supplied power to the stricken ship allowing crews to enter and inspect the damage.  Sections of hull breeches were sealed off and equipment was being secured so it could be towed back to the Alpha Quadrant when the tugs arrived. 

Captain Murphy…

Órlaith picked through the rubble of her quarters turning tables over and setting chairs upright. Sighing she found a picture under some rubble.  Digging it out she held the damaged frame up to examine it.  The frame was cracked and the glass shattered.   

Órlaith peeled the photo free and smiled looking at it with one of those happy/sad expressions of a bittersweet memory.  She was at the Academy wearing a flight suit and her arm wrapped around another pilot.  They were both fresh faced ensigns recently graduated and in the advanced tactical fighter training school.  Her friend,  a shorter blonde grinned back making a peace sign towards the camera.  Ensign Marla Davis was killed three weeks later at the Battle of Golundon’kor.

“Well, against all odds here I am,” Órlaith said to the picture.  “Wish you were still here my friend.  I miss you.”

Órlaith wiped the tears from her eyes and shoved the photograph into her duffle bag and continued digging through the quarters.  She had few personal items, but what she did have she wasn’t keen on losing. 

Commander Torin…

Kevan Torin surveyed the dark birdge.  It was illuminated by a singled emergency light that cast the consoles in dark and leaving odd shaped shadows upon the deck. There was an uncomfortable silence with all the systems dead. Oxygen and minimal power was being provided by the Markonian Outpost. 

Torin had climbed six decks of Jefferie’s tubes to get here after visiting his quarters.   The captain’s chair was covered in debris and he brushed it clean letting bits and peices of the damaged ship make soft thumps as they fell to the carpeted floor. He did the same for the XO’S seat and slid into it.  He sat there, staring off into the nothingness of the blank viewscreen.  

Hayden & Washington …

Marcus walked into sickbay with Erin at his side. To their surprise the medical facility was fairly orderly.

 “What are you doing?” Erin demanded. 

“I’m getting the EMH,” Marcus replied.

Erin stopped disbelief on her face. “What?” She demanded incredulously, “Why?”

“I put too much work into it to just abandon it,” Marcus said as he kneeled next to the EMH control station.   He set his bulging duffle  bag off to the side and and jiggled the access panel free which he simply just tossed to the side.

“You’re telling me I climbed through meters of Jefferies tubes for this?”

“You didn’t have to come,” Marcus said.

She sighed.  She’d ran into Marcus outside of his quarters and just sort of followed him.  She assumed his destination had a reason that wasn’t completely insane.   She was here, and it was no one’s fault but her own.  “How can I help?”

“I got it,” Marcus said holding up a softly glowing yellow cube.  He partially unzipped his duffle and shoved the memory module into the bag, and after a few seconds of struggle he closed the zipper.

“So we can go now?”

“Uh… Not exactly.  I have a favor to do for Doc Mulder, but it won’t take long.  She had several patient files on PADDs in her office and for confidentiality reasons she doesn’t want them floating around for anyone to see.”

“And she trusted you to do that?” Erin replied skeptically. 

“Apparently” Marcus said with a grin.

“Fine, let’s get them and let’s get out of here.”

Lieutenant Shrin…

Shrin entered the science labs. Everything that had been on a flat surface was now on the deck.  Shrin was a fastidious individual and it bothered her to see her lab in such disarray,  but here and now… was not the time to rectify that. 

Kicking around the debris she found one of several items she was looking for. A small stone statue carved from a peice of jade.  The figure was of a pregnant female alien.  What it’s true purpose could only be speculation. Shrin shoved it into her case.  

Along the far bulkhead she found her PADD containing her research notes.  As she scrolled through the device she smiled.  All of her research since joining the Crazy Horse was there. The highs and lows.  It was irreplaceable data.

Her last stop was at a storage cabinet.  The latch made a soft click and the door swung open freely.   Samples slid off the shelves and crashed to the floor. Almost all of them were biological samples,  once carefully marked, cataloged and stored, now ruined and useless.   She knew that, and that wasn’t what she was looking for.  In the back of the middle shelf and seemingly undisturbed was the odd artifact that made Captain Mackenzie and Commander Halstead vanish.  She carefully set it in her case, and with one final look at her ruined lab she walked out. 

Ensign Talon…

Anthony really had nothing he wanted to salvage from his quarters except for his black Stetson cowboy hat. The hat had mostly survived the attack unblemished except for the turkey feather shoved into the hat band.  It was bent at the shaft near the end the the vanes had seen better days.  He straightend it the best he could, but it would never be like it was.

But he had another objective coming aboard.  He grunted with effort and foced the doors to Lieutenant Diego Garza’s quarters open. Wearing his hat and picking up a duraplast trunk he entered. 

The quarters were decorated in Diego’s Mexican culture.  He set the trunk on the desk and with two flicks of his fingers he undid the latches and opened it. Sighing Anthony turned to take in the quarters.   “This sucks Buddy.  You should be here to do this. I don’t know what’s important to you.”

Crossing the room Anthony removed a black Sombrero Diego had used for his mariachi.  Removing his Stetson he placed the hat on his head.  Looking into a nearby mirror he frowned and shook his head, “Naw, that just isn’t me. He carefully placed it in the trunk along with a guitar case. 

Anthony spent an hour going through Diego’s things.  It was sad to see a life reduced to just a handful of objects in a trunk to be sent to family. Anthony slowly closed the lid and when he latched it closed there was a finality,  and for Anthony,  Diego now actually felt dead.

Anthony dropped into the couch with his hat in hand. There he sat in the chaos of a quarters void of all personalization with bits an peices strewn across the quarters.  A chair sat on its side. PADDs littered the floor.  

“So here we are,” Anthony said softly.  “Got you all packed up.  I hope I got the important stuff.”  He paused for a bit, “I’m gonna miss you Old Man. You were more than a mentor, you were a good friend.  Maybe the best that this dumb cowhand could hope for.  I wish I could have shown you the ranch. I think you would have liked it.”

Anthony wiped the tears from his cheeks, “I gotta cowboy up.  There’s no crying in rodeo,  but damn I’m gonna miss you.” 

Standing with purpose he placed his hat on his head and picked up the crate and headed out of Diego’s quarters.   At the door he paused and looked back inside, “See you around buddy.”

Órlaith stood at one of the windows aboard the Markonian Outpost staring out at the void.  The preliminary debriefing with command went mostly as expected.   The damage to the Crazy Horse was severe and the old ship would need tractored back to Barvo Fleet’s ship yards for repair or to break it up and recycle the hull into a newer ship.  Either way, she was relieved of command.  

Not the most auspicious first command, Órlaith thought. 

“Captain Murphy?”  a timid female voice asked.

Órlaith turned to see a young Ensign wearing command red.  By the looks of things she appeared to be fresh out of the Academy.  Her blonde hair was in a perfect bun, and her uniform crisp including spit-polished boots. “Yes Ensign?”

“I’m from the USS Coeur d’Alene.  I’m Ensign Bardot, Captain Martin’s Yeoman.”

“What can I do for you Ensign?”

“We understand you and your crew are seeking passage back to the Alpha Quadrant.   The  Coeur d’Alene is heading for Starbase 75 and can give you and your crew a ride.”

Órlaith nodded, “Thank you Ensign.  I would be grateful.”

Bardot nodded, “We are berthed at docking port 54 Alpha. Captain Martin asks that your crew is onboard by tomorrow an hour before the wormhole opens.”

Órlaith nodded, “I’ll see to it Ensign.  Thank you, and thank Captain Martin.”

The Yeoman nodded, and turned on a heel and headed down the corridor without so much as a glance backwards.   Órlaith tapped her combadge,  “Captain Murphy to Commander Torin.”

“Go ahead Captain,” Torin’s voice returned sounding small from her combadge. 

“We need to talk.  Meet me at the Telaxian restaurant on level eight?”

“I’m on my way Captain. Torin out.”

Órlaith was sitting at one of the tables not far from the entrance sipping a glass of water when Commander Torin walked into the restaurant.   Devix, the owner of the establishment greeted him, and lead Torin to the table.  “Your guest is here Captain,” The Telaxian said with a conspiratorial grin.

“Thank you Devix,” Órlaith said hiding a laugh behind her glass.

“Today’s special is Ga’vern tube root soup. It us quite popular with you Starfleeters. I guess it’s similar to a creamy potato soup. Whatever that is.”

Torin smiled, “Yeah, I’ll take that, and I guess a water.”

The Telaxian smiled, “Coming right up commander.” Without further preamble he turned and walked away.

“Well, he certainly has a personality,” Torin replied. 

“Indeed.  So, how do you feel about going home?”

“You found us a ride back,” relief on Torin’s face evident. 

She nodded, “The USS Coeur d’Alene.”

“That’s an Intrepid-class is it not?”

Órlaith nodded, “That’s the one. It will be a bit crowded,  but we’ll get a ride to Starbase 75.”

“I can live with that. We roughed it on Eden, and then on the Mackenzie and now we’re finding wherever we can sleep here.”

“Annnd here you go Commander,” Devix said as he set an enormous bowl of a creamy soup before him and a tall glass of water.  He slid a plate of greens and a meat he recommended in front of Órlaith.  “Seared Nor beast, mashed Ga’vern root with a flavian salad.”

“Thank you Devix,” Órlaith her stomach growling as the smells wafted up from her plate.

“Enjoy,” the owner said and disappeared to take care of other customers. 

“I know we’re all scattered about, but spread the word.  We need to be onboard the ship tomorrow no later than 09:00.”

Torin nodded, ”I’ll get the word out. Finally.”

“We can start boarding now. The sooner we get this herd of cats corralled the less hectic it will be for tomorrow.”

Torin sipped his soup from a spoon obviously enjoying it, “Good idea.  Give us a chance to find our wayward lambs well before departure.”

“Good.  They are berthed in port 54 Alpha.”

USS Coeur d’Alene, next day…

Freshly showered and in a new uniform Órlaith checked on her crew. The bulk of which were being housed in Cargo  Bay 3.  The senior officers were offered VIP suites, and while she didn’t deny them to her staff Órlaith had opted for one of the uncomfortable cots located in the cargo bay.  

The comm beeped, “Captain Martin to Captain Murphy. Would you like to come to the bridge?”

She tapped her combadge, “On my way.”

When she stepped onto the bridge a few moments later the command center was a buzz with activity. There was excitement in the air.  It was a throughly modern bridge with sleek consoles,  and stainless steel railings and accents.  

“Captain Murphy,” Captain Benjamin Martin greeted.  He was an middle aged man with grey at his temples and salt and pepper in his goatee.  Martin was a handsome man with a pair of ice blue eyes that seemed to be able to peer into your soul.  “Sorry about the Crazy Horse. She was an icon.”

“That she was,” Órlaith said accepting Martin’s extended hand.  His hand was large, calloused and judging by the forearm that accompanied it, it was likely powerful too. But, Martin didn’t squeeze the life out of her, which Órlaith was happy about.  

“Would you care for a seat?” He gestured to the observer’s seat.  “Is your crew on board?”

Órlaith slid into the the comfortable replicated leather seat and smiled, “we tracked down the last of them last night at 01:00.”

“I appreciate you taking care of that,” Martin commented as he settled into his own seat next to Órlaith. “As you know traffic through the wormhole is tightly controlled and we need to be in position.”

“I understand,” Órlaith said with a smile.

“Operations,  notify station for clearance,” Martin announced. 

“Contacting Station Ops for clearance,” the operations officer replied.

“Disconnect all moorings and umbilicals.  Airlock is sealed ” the helm officer said from the front of the bridge.

“We have been granted clearance for a departure along waypoint Papi,” Operations said. “We are limited to one-quarter impulse until we clear Victor and free to navigate to the Barzan Wormhole.”

“Course set for waypoint Papi. One-quarter impulse,” the helm officer announced.

Martin smiled at the efficiency of his crew.  “Make it so.”

Órlaith caught a glimpse of the USS Crazy Horse docked with the station,  but black in space awaiting its fate.  She wondered if that would be last time she would see the old ship, and she hoped they wouldn’t scrap her.  Worst case scenario maybe Starfleet could make a museum out of her.

72 Hours Later…

The USS Coeur d’Alene dropped out of warp, and the aging Spacedock class of Starbase 75 had orbited Betazed for nealry one-hundred years.  The Coeur d’Alene approached the massive entrance as the doors parted to let the starship slip within.  Inside there were dozens of starships including a stately Galaxy class and several sleek Akiras.

The Coeur d’Alene approached one of the docking ports and was soon berthed.  Captain Martin smiled and stood offering a hand to Órlaith,  “Welcome back to the Alpha Quadrant.”

Órlaith accepted the hand up and smiled, “Thank you for the ride Ben.”

“Let me walk you to the airlock,” he said.

Órlaith shouldered her duffle which contained a few of her personal effects salvaged from her quarters on the Crazy Horse. “Thank you.”

The pair walked mostly in silence just making small talk here and there. She had enjoyed her time with Captain Martin finding him to have a keen philosophical mind. Of course,  it didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes too, but it would never work.  Two Starfleet captains do not make good couples since they would never see each other. But, their time together had been rewarding. 

Late night talks had evolved into late night back rubs, which evolved into more.   Both Captains were lonely.  Dating subordinates wasn’t against regulations, but definitely complicated,  and both Ben and Órlaith chose not to cross that line.   So, for a time the two captains gave each other what they both desperately needed. 

At the airlock they paused, and Órlaith pushed his extended hand aside, “I think we are beyond that Ben,” she said with a grin and wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek that wasn’t exactly friendly nor was it romantic. “I’ll see you around.  Thanks for the ride.”

Without any further delay or even a look back Órlaith walked down the gangway and disappeared into the hum of the station.  Martin stood watching her go with an expression of regret on his face. He hoped they would meet again.

The Drunken Sailor Pub was a dive bar in every sense of the word,  but Starfleet crews had been coming here for decades.  Owned by a human and Orion couple the drinks were cheap, the music loud and the food was good.

The senior staff of the USS Crazy Horse sat at a table in the far corner. The table littered with empty beer mugs and shot glasses, baskets of wings with their sauces smeared all over the wax paper liners.

“To the Crazy Horse,” Commander Torin said raising his glass of Romulan Ale. “It was one hell of a ship with one hell of a crew.”

“Here! Here!” The assembled officers shouted.

“I know Commander Torin and I are relative new comers to this crew,” Órlaith said, “but I couldn’t have asked for a better one.”

“And we couldn’t ask for better replacements,” Erin said. There were general mummers of agreement around the table.

Órlaith sighed, “Now for the element in the room.  The Crazy Horse is not going to be repaired any time soon… if at all. My money is that Starfleet does not put her back into service with the new Excelsior II-classes being commissioned, but they do say ‘never say never’.  This is likely the last time we will all be together in one place.  It has been an honor to serve with you all.” Órlaith produced a stack of PADDs.  She let them slide through her fingers using the table to stack them neatly.  “Our new assignments are in.”

Órlaith handed out the PADDs to the crew. She let them look it over, “Who wants to share?”

Shrin looked up from her PADD, glanced around, and shrugged, “I guess I can. Chief Science officer here on Starbase 75.”

“Well, that’s convenient,” Marcus said with a grin. “Looks like Assistant Chief Engineer aboard the USS Montrose.” There was disappointment in his voice, but there was little he could do. 

“That is unfortunate,” Shrin observed.

“A damned crime if you ask me,” Anthony replied.  “Hell of a demotion, not that I’m getting one myself.  Chief Helm Officer, USS Barstow.  It’s a California-class.  Not even a fun piloting gig.

Erin looked up from her PADD and sighed,  “Relay Station 53.”

“Oh man,” Anthony sympathized, “That’s even worse than the Barstow.”

“It’s probably safe to say that is the worst possible option given your talents Commander,” Torin gave his two cents.  “You are too good of an officer to be stuck on a sub-space relay station.”

“Ensign Talon is right. That assignment is criminal,” Washington added.

“Would you like me to see if I can do anything about it?” Órlaith asked.

Erin shrugged, “Not sure if there is anything you can do, but I won’t turn down some help. But, I guess the silver lining is that it will be my first command.”

“A command of two,” Anthony said. “Not exactly resumé padding material.”

Erin simply nodded and took a long drink of her piña colada, but she was suddenly no longer interested in the drink and pushed it aside.

“Captain, you want to go next?” Torin asked.

Órlaith shrugged, “It’s between us two. Sure.  Starfleet Academy, Advanced Fighter and Weapons School. I’m going back to being an instructor.”

“Not another ship?” Washington asked incredulously.

“It would seem I am undeserving,” Órlaith said.  “I expected something like this.  I didn’t think they were going to give me another command.  Command was not happy about how I handled the Devore and losing the ship.”

“As I recall I supported your actions Captain,” Torin said.

“I took full responsibility Commander.  I did not want my black mark to mar your record too. I had the final say.”

“Then I… I owe you a major debt of gratitude,” Torin started.  He paused for a long moment letting the silence fall on the table.  “I have been given command of the USS Terror.”

“Congratulations Com…” Órlaith smiled and corrected herself, “Captain.” She raised her glass to Torin, “To Stafleet’s newest captain. May you always find fair seas and winds to your back.”

The other’s raised their glasses in salute, “Here! Here!”

Órlaith sat back and tried to enjoy the moment as the official conversation faded into stories of a close knit crew.  They had been through hell and back, Starfleet chose to punish most of them, and yet they reacted with jokes, and shared experiences.  Órlaith was going to enjoy this, for tomorrow they would be like leaves scattered on the wind.

Órlaith surveyed her guest quarters aboard Starbase 75 on last time looking for any forgotten personal items.  All was as it should be.  The cleaning crews would make the bed, and replenish the towels for the next visitor to the station. She adjusted the strap on her duffle bag and walked out letting the doors slide shut one last time. 

The departure gates were a hum of excitement as people of all shapes and sizes rushed to catch their transports.  Órlaith had made her way to the terminal an hour early. With time to spare she had purchased a coffee and a pastry from a vendor and was enjoying it when a familiar face approached with captain”s pips.

“Com… Captain Torin how are you?” She greeted her former first officer. 

“I am well. Please,  call me Kevan.”

Órlaith smirked, “Okay Kevan how are you?”

The Trill smiled, “I am well Captain.”

“Hey, if I get to call you Kevan you get to call me Órlaith.”

Torin thought about it for a moment, “I don’t know. That just feels really weird.”

She laughed at that, “like me calling you captain?”

“I expect so,” Torin replied. “So when does your transport leave?”

“Soon enough,” Órlaith said just before taking a bite of her bearclaw.  “They’ll announce it when it’s ready to board.”

She found a small table with chairs on either side and sat down, “Can I get you a coffee?”

“I’m good. Thank you,” Torin replied as he sat down across from her.  “So this us it.  The band’s broken up. Hayden and Shrin left yesterday.”

“I can’t believe Starfleet won’t promote Erin,” Órlaith observed.  “By all rights she should have been at least my XO. No offense.”

“None taken, and I agree. I thought about seeing if I could get her on the Terror with me, but I already have an XO and I can’t imagine what that would do to crew morale to just do that.”

“Yeah, I think you made the right call,” she said finishing up her bearclaw. “Before you start shaking things up get to know your new command first. You have to make it your own, but it’s not an overnight process. Doing it too quickly your crew will resent you.”

Torin nodded in understanding. 

“Now boarding at Gate A25 for S.S. Mariposa bound for Earth.   Please proceed to the airlock and have your boarding pass ready for inspection,” the station’s announcement system echoed along the corridors. 

Órlaith sighed, “That’s me.”  She stood and Torin stood with her.

“Let me walk you to the airlock,” Torin offered.

They weren’t far from 25A, and they did not speak the entire way.  In the time they served together a friendship had developed,  and this felt like a finality.  Friendships over light-years were difficult to maintain. 

They paused at the airlock, and the already awkward silence started to feel oppressive.  Órlaith finnaly extended a hand,  “It’s been a pleasure Kevan. See you out there Captain.”

Torin smirked and wrapped his arms around her in a hug, “The pleasure was all mine.”

A week later…

The Launching Pad,  had been a watering hole for Starfleet officers and cadets for decades.  A group of officers sat in the corner of the bar at a circular table sharing drinks and stories.   

A Captain looked at Órlaith over his beer, “We need to get you a callsign.  All pilots have them.”

Órlaith shook her head, “I already have one. They gave me Blondie back when I was a student here.”

The captain smirked,  “You’re not a student nor an ensign anymore.  Blondie doesn’t suit you anymore. Let’s see… your first starship command ended in a disaster. The Crazy Horse went down in flames. Kind of like your career trajectory.”

“Don’t remind me,” Órlaith replied dryly staring into her iced tea.

“There’s only one name for you Captain,” he said with a malicious,  but good natured smile, “Hindenburg.”

Órlaith groaned knowing that was definitely going to stick and would be a constant reminder. 

The sun was bright over the Nevada desert.  Below the Squadron of five Valkyrie fighters lay the cities of Reno and farther to the East lay Fernley and Fallon. This empty and sparsely populated portion of North America had trained future pilots for centuries. Fallon Naval Air Station was a museum now.

“Okay, we’re  entering the training range,” Lieutenant Junior Grade Ashley Trask, callsign Flower, said over the intercom.   “Stay alert. Hindenburg is out here somewhere.”

“Nothing on sensors,” Trip replied.

“That’s the point,” Flower replied as she rolled to the left to make a ground check.  Nothing. Modern fighters had equipment to jam or fool sensors making visual identification all the more important.

With her head on a swivel she searched in vein while her co-pilot Falcon worked the sensors and weapons systems.  “Anything?”

“Nothing,” someone replied over the comm.

Suddenly Flower’s console blared in alarm.  Frustrated she slammed her palms on the touch screen. “I’m hit!”

“Me too.” Trip replied.

From a high attack angle flying with the sun to its back a single Sparrow-class fighter flew right through the Valkyrie formation knocking out a third ship. This time belonging to Compass.

Flower watched in fascination as Hindenburg with a far less advanced and capable fighter take out an entire flight in a matter of seconds.

The comm crackled to life with Hindenburg’s voice, “Congratulations.  You are all dead.  Return to base for debriefing.”

There were groans. The pilots would not be looking forward to hearing about how spectacularly they failed.  Not one fighter in the formation even got a lock on Hindenburg let alone a shot.

It was raining and cold in the Bay Area as a single Sparrow-class fighter taxied to a parking spot under a simple overhang near a series of buildings serving as the Academy’s spaceport. 

Shutting down the fighter Hindenburg climbed out of the compit and removed her helmet handing it to a smiling crew chief,  “You sure didn’t go easy on them. Glad you are on our side Captain.”

Órlaith smirked,  “They are just learning fighter tactics.  Hopefully they will get it and they can use it to stay alive. Going easy on them gets recruits killed. The enemy certainly won’t.”

The crew chief smirked,  “Oh, by the way a Captain Tarken is on sub-space for you.”

Órlaith scowled,  “You couldn’t have lead with that?”

He laughed,  “Nope.  You officers get everything you want when you want it. It’ll do you good to have to wait.”

Órlaith shook her head, “Right now, I’m thinking a certain Chief Petty Officer is going to be reassigned. I’m thinking waste extraction for Earth Spacedock.”

“You wouldn’t.  I the best crew chief in the fleet.”

“Modestly isn’t an issue,” Órlaith replied over her shoulder already heading for her office.   Once inside she slid into her chair and activated the her computer terminal.  “Sorry about the wait. I just got back from a training sortie.”

In the screen the face of a young, outwardly Orion, woman smiled. “Not a problem Captain Órlaith.  I hope the training sortie went well?”

Órlaith tapped her fingernails on the desk thinking about how to answer that.  “Well, let’s just say I wouldn’t want to depend on saving the Federation with these kids.  About the only thing they do well right now is die.  They better be thankful it’s me that’s killing them and no some hypothetical enemy.  With me it’s just embrassment.”

Kirin let out a chuckle and caused her hair to shimmer and shift between green and red. “We have all been there. Even simulated death gives them a chance to learn from their mistakes,” she remarked. Pausing for a moment Kirin glanced off to her side as if checking on soemthing before looking back at Órlaith, “Are you with them long? I hear that someone got a new shiny toy.”

She shrugged,  “You hear something I haven’t?”  Órlaith frowned,  “I doubt I’ll see starship command any time soon.  Command stuck me here to forget about.”

Kirin frowned and wondered for a month if the rumor mill had been wrong. She had double checked it some of her sources as well. “Oh, maybe I was mistaken,” Kirin said before continuing, “Why do you think they would do that. I know command can be odd a times but have done really well as far as I am concerned.”

“I was directly told that it would be unlikely to get a command again.  They went out on a limb putting me on the Crazy Horse with my limited experience and I could have caused a war between the Federation and Devore.  Politics I guess.”

“What?! That is rediculous!” Kirin said in a raised voice, “The Devore would have happily started a war themselves. I am surprised that command didn’t come down harder ont hem given their outright attacks on federation vessels and the destruction of several ships. I will have words with someone about this. Who told you that!” She took a depth breath and visibly calmed herself, “Personally I think you did a great job in a difficult situation.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Órlaith said with a weak smile. “So, how’s the Sojourner?”

Silently kicking herself for opening this topic Kirin took to the change of topic happily. “Same old really. Had to go in for repaira for a few weeks once we got back from the delta quadrant. Crew has properly settled in now I think. Not much new beyond that really.”

“I envy you,” Órlaith said. “Being out in the black.  Not much call for an old fighter pilot these days except as shuttle pilots, and I got to be honest that doesn’t sound like much fun.”

An expression of deep sadness crossed Kirin’s face. She hasn’t known Órlaith long but she liked the woman and her current situation didn’t sit well with Kirin. “Yeah, I can understand that…” She trailed off as she spoke. 

“If command is finished with you, as you have indicated will you resign?” Kirin asked, “I know some people who know people and, well there are always ships in need of a good captain…”

“I might keep that in mind,” She replied with a grin.  “Or maybe I find me a little farm somewhere and settle down.  Have a family,  the dog, and that stupid bloody white picket fence.”

Kirin smirked but failed to hold in a slight giggle, “Stupid bloody white picket fence, I have heard that several times. Some Earth idiom I assume? I also know a certain Risian individual who could help you with that as well,” Kirin coughed as she spoke and backtracked, “the farm that is.” She tilted her head in thought and laughed under her breath, “Though I know a few others who wouldn’t mind meeting you…”

“We’ll see,” she replied. “I haven’t decided anything yet.”

Kirin nodded, “Well you have my support whatever you decide. And let me know what you end up doing so that we can catch up in person next time. Ok?”

She smiled, “Don’t be a stranger right?”

Kirin smirked, “Never. I am just a call away if you need to chat. Keep safe and don’t let those rookie flyers give you a hard time.”

“Will do,” Órlaith replied,  “keep the blue side up my friend. Murphy out.”