As soon as the Turbolift doors hissed gently back into their recesses and she stepped out onto the Bridge of the USS Albion, Commander Samantha Hyland knew that something was very wrong…

Ostensibly, the vital command and control space (wherein the progress of the vessel was determined and the will of the Captain be delegated) appeared as it ever did. The gleaming dark deck plates that calmly bespoke 25^th Century Starfleet design aesthetics were as reassuringly solid as always, the glowing holodisplays suspended ethereally in front of their operators confirmed the steady progress of the shovel – prowed Inquiry – Class exploratory – cruiser as it cleaved the ethereal night – dark of space – as crisp and true as ever.

At first glance, all was as it should be.

But with a sickening feeling that gnawed at her nerves and quickly permeated to her stomach, Sam realized what it was about this familiar tableau that was so sickeningly off – kilter.

Everyone sat at the duty stations was dead.

Sam knew every one of them and she knew for a fact that, as they worked diligently at the controls of their consoles, heedless of her presence – the people sat there were not the usual crewmembers of the USS Albion.

Each was a living corpse of someone that she had known – someone that she felt in her heart, that had died due to some fault of her own.

“XO on deck!” Called the shade behind the Security console and with a sensation of creeping dread, Samantha noted that it was the late Ensign Jan De Vries (who had so gallantly laid down his life to save the entire crew of the USS Sacramento) that spoke and the net effect of the entire ships company aboard the bridge trying to come to attention – despite their terrible wounds – was almost more than she could bear.

“Congratulations on your advancement, Commander.” Jan tried to smile, but his face was so blackened by the fire that consumed his final seconds, that recognition was made almost impossible.

Tears welled in her eyes, as Sam felt her throat constrict with a deep sorrow.

“Jan…” She tried to whisper mournfully, but her eye was drawn to the Captain’s chair, where the CO of this macabre skeleton – crew swiveled the big seat to greet her.

The emaciated, mummified face of Captain Edward Norman, ill – fated CO of the USS Subic Bay – the 23^rd Century Reliant – Refit vessel trapped forever in the endless subspace corridors of The Labyrinth; as her crew slowly succumbed to misrule, madness and finally cannibalism. Still dressed in the moldering maroon tunic that he had worn as he held his dying daughter in his arms, as what remained of his crew clamored at his ready-room door for her vital flesh, Captain Norman inclined his paper – thin skull in her direction and enquired of her.

“Commander, glad you could join us – we’re just ordering lunch!” Ed Normal indicated the figure beside him. “Have you eaten yet? I feel like I haven’t eaten in a hundred years – I’m just famished!”

The grisly figure bared his yellowed teeth, and a small part of his jaw disintegrated into fine flaking’s of greyish dust as he did so.

Samantha’s eyes bulged with consternation as she recognized the figure of Special Services Crewman Aldus Coe – the real Aldus Coe that had been strangled by the SSH and his corpse bundled into the freezer storage behind the “O” – Bar aboard her previous command – the USS Savannah – not the rogue SSH that had stolen his identity and plotted mass – murder.

The very man that Kennedy Zhao has sought to avenge when she enlisted the dubious assistance of the Orion Syndicate criminal D’Taani Varada – smiled despite the ugly ligature that creased his neck from ear to ear, with fingers blacked from frostbite, he held forth a PADD and smiled encouragingly.

“I’m sure there must be something on the menu that the Commander can stomach?” Aldus raised a frozen eyebrow.

“This isn’t happening.” Samantha repeated to herself, backing slowly away, her mind reeling from the tableau of horror before her, even as a familiar voice spoke behind her and she felt her heart finally break.

“Well, that’s hardly a rationale born from the scientific imperative Sammie.” Spoke her father. “Surely I taught you better than that?”

Sam screwed her eyes shut, her voice barely a whisper.

“You’re not here, this isn’t real!” Samanthan Hyland told herself, unable not to turn and look – even though she knew in her sickening heart exactly what she would see.

Sat at the Science – station, dressed in the Starfleet Science Officer’s uniform of the 24^th century that Sam had been accustomed to seeing him come home to their quarters in – when she was child aboard the USS Venture (the Galaxy – Class ship that had been her first and happiest home) – was her father. Not the warm-hearted Xenoarchaeologist that had sparked her passion for exploration and held her close when she had night – terrors. Not him.

The Jonas Hyland that swiveled in his chair to address his daughter had glowing facets of living crystal where his gentle brown eyes that had been, legacy of his subsummation with the ancient Crystal Entity that had enveloped his corpse and carried his consciousness into orbit – wedded for an eternity as they transcribed their lonely exodus through the vast coldness of space.

Stealing her last remaining parent to join with its own – somewhere in the distant Gamma Quadrant.

“You said that the last time we spoke, Sammie.” The shade of Jonas frowned and pouted. “And look where ignoring my advice got you that time eh?”

“You’re not real.” Sam protested; her heart torn asunder by the cruelty of this remembrance. “I’m dreaming. This is all a dream.” She insisted as she grabbed the edge of the console, and the bridge swam in her vision sickeningly.

“Oh no, Sammie!” The Jonas – not – Jonas laughed jovially as the nausea welled up in Sam’s gorge.

“You’re not dreaming baby – girl.” Those glowing eyes loomed close, seeming to take up her entire world – view in their shining alien depths. “You’re DEAD!”

“No….” Sam’s voice was small and child-like to her pounding ears.

“Fraid so Sammie, I’m sorry – I really am…..”Her father smiled sadly; apology implicit in his voice.

“No….”

“….but now you have to WAKE UP!”

Her mind was split asunder and her view of the USS Albion’s bridge and it’s macabre – crew was suddenly scoured away by an incandescent explosion of bright light and Sam felt herself being bodily torn away, falling, falling, rising and then.

“She’s conscious!” came a sure voice as Sam blinked at the harsh – light shining directly in her eye.

“Pupil dilation within tolerable norms, encouraging considering.” The voice continued as the light shifted from one eye to the next – obscuring Samantha’s view and adding to her confusion. “ECG is stable. I think she’s out of the woods, so to speak, Captain.”

“May I speak with her?” Came another voice, younger but sure.

“Of course, Captain, but two minutes only – her body has been through an extraordinary amount of stress, and I don’t want her fatigued unduly.”

“You’re the doctor, Doctor.” The other voice confirmed and suddenly the light was gone and Sam blinked furiously, her eyes running as they tried to focus on a pair of faces looming above her.

“Quite so.” Came the testy reply.

“What’s going on?” Her throat was awfully dry and sore. “Where…am I?” She held her arm up to shield her eyes and noted her bare arm protruding from the short sleeve of a pale green gown.

“Rest easy, Commander Hyland.” The second voice, which has the mellifluous – smooth patois that only the French can effortlessly master, settled into the face of a relatively young Starfleet Officer – who smiled down at her.

“I am Lieutenant Commander Arsène Bachelet, Commanding officer of the USS Henry Hudson.” (This sounded more like “Harn-ree ‘Oodson” to Sam’s ears) the man acknowledged, as a Nurse in scrubs helped Samantha into a sitting position.

“You are in our sickbay. I must say Commander – you gave everybody such the scare at L’Institute Daystrom, N’est – ce – pas?”

Sam looked confused; the last thing she could remember was speaking with someone at a party…. The details were hazy.

“Pardon?”

“You appeared to suffer from a temporary Cardiac Infarction, Commander.” The owner of the first voice said dryly and Sam noted a EMH holding a neural probe to her temple as the Medical Hologram added. “Which considering your age and relatively good health is as highly improbable as it is extremely vexing, may I add?” The hologram added, clearly annoyed.

Gathering herself and trying to adjust to her surroundings, Sam muttered. “Maybe it’s something I ate?”

The EMH put its device away and frowned acerbically…” Well then, that makes two things that don’t agree with you Commander.”

The EMH turned to Lieutenant Commander Arsène Bachelet and huffed “Captain, the Commander seems to be suffering no further complications from her recent….’complication’ and is stable. If I’m no longer needed, I suggest that I save my matrix for where an actual medical emergency presents itself.

Arsène Bachelet stifled a small smile and waved his hand lightly,” Oui, C’est – ca Doctor. You are dismissed.”

“Finally!”

The EMH gave Samantha a pointed stare and then was no more, leaving the CO and the Patient alone as the Nurse left the tiny sickbay and a long silence began to stretch between the two of them, as Sam wondered how to handle what came next.

The look of wry amusement remained in Bachelet’s face, as the CO sat lightly on the edge of the bio – bed and fastidiously straightened the cuffs of his uniform tunic.

“Set yourself at ease Commander.” Arsène smiled that easy gallic smile and indicated the space where seconds ago the EMH had stood. “A useful piece of technology it is true – one with a very peculiar manner – but the Doctor means well. I am glad that you seem to be in good health?”

Samantha felt herself blushing as she spoke.

“Captain, thank you for the care that you have extended me….” She began, but Arsène stopped her thanks with a gentle raise of his manicured hand.

“But a machine knows nothing of “L’honneur” – it cannot. A machine knows nothing of “L’esprit de corps” does it?” The French starship captain inspected a well – kempt nail.

Sam didn’t quite know what to say, so she opted to say nothing.

Arsène Bachelet’s pale – blue eyes were searching as the CO continued, “Non – these are concepts best understood by an Officer are they not? And it is in the spirit of these things that I have chosen to overlook the circumstances behind you petite “tour – de – maladie” and turn a blind eye to my sudden orders to medevac you from L’Institute Daystrom (with very little questions asked) and to transport you to a location that is, as of yet, unspecified.”

Samantha shifted uncomfortably under her thin sheet and attempted an explanation.

“Captain, I apologize for any inconvenience…” But Lieutenant Commander Bachelet cut across her again, with a mélange of studied good humor and carefully suppressed annoyance.

“Oublie ça! Ce n’est rien!” Arsène waved his hand. “I am the Captain of a fast – ship that takes people places quickly. It is my job.” He brushed some imaginary lint from his knee. “Sometimes I am asked to do so quietly and ask very little of those I carry. This also comes with the job.” The Frenchman shrugged easily.

Sam blushed again.

“Normalement, they are good enough to tell me in which direction I must go.” Arsène stared pointedly at her. “As a captain whose job is to go places, it is “extrêmement déroutant” – extremely annoying not to know my destination.”

He blew his cheeks out theatrically and added easily. “But then again ton capitaine, Captain Robert Carrington – is a man that I hold in very high regard. If cher Robert asks of me to take his cadre supérieur aboard my ship and take her to a place that I do not know – but he says you will tell me the ‘where’ – then, avec “L’honneur” et avec “L’esprit de corps” – this thing I shall do.”

Samantha nodded thankfully, glad that she did not have to divulge anything more that would implicate either party to the crime that had so recently been perpetrated by her crew at the Daystrom Institute.

That memory made her start.

“My eternal thanks Captain Bachelet.” Sam nodded gratefully, “I.. We appreciate your discretion in this matter.”

Arsène shrugged his shoulders easily and smiled guardedly.

“When I was brought aboard, my belongings…..”Sam looked pointedly down to the thin Sickbay gown that she wore.

“Everything that you came aboard with is in the locker beside you.” Arsène nodded and rose from the bed. “You will find everything is there”. He reassured.

Sam opened the drawer and with a relief that was indescribable – she saw that the Data – chip that contained the plans for the Genesis – particle appeared to be present and intact. That meant that, when the Med – team had been evacuating her to the shuttle pad, someone from Hazard Team Albion had managed to secret the vital stolen data on her unconscious person – just as Lieutenant Hask had planned.

She frowned.

Alongside the Isolinear storage device was another object.

Samantha’s fingers closed around the object, and she drew it out of the bedside locker to get a better look at it.

It was a Holo-recording device.

“Captain, what this?” Samatha asked, turning to Lieutenant Commander Bachelet as he made to leave the sickbay. Arsène turned to regard her and the object and shrugged that easy shrug once again.

“L’Enregistrement holographique – a Holorecording, it was also on your person when you came aboard, Commander. Is something wrong?”

Sam stared at the Holorecording, turning its dull surfaces round and around in her fingers thoughtfully.

Like the one she had received aboard the USS Albion, that had set these chaotic events in progress, Samantha found herself wondering how the Orion had managed to plant the Holodevice, without being detected?

“No Captain – it’s nothing at all.” Sam managed to smile and put the device down into her lap. “My thanks again to yourself and your crew. As soon as I can confirm our destination, I will contact you immediately.”

“Oui, c’est ainsi. Rest well Commander. Au revoir, pour l’instant.”

Sam rested her head back on the pillows and closed her eyes tiredly and counted a few beats before grimacing and reaching out to activate the Holomatrix.

“Fuck, shit.” She breathed and pressed the power-stud.

As predicted, she was suddenly joined in the dim – lighting of the Challenger – Class’s tiny sickbay by the malodious presence of the Orion Cartel criminal, D’Taani Varada – her tormentor made ‘flesh” – at least by the minor – scientific miracle of cohesive photonic projection.

Varada appeared at the foot of her bed and slowly clapped her green hands together, an accolade dripping with sardonic glee.

“Well, Bravo, Commander Hyland…” D’Taani smiled as the hologram seemed to take the place so recently vacated by Arsène Bachelet on the foot of her bed. As if to remind Samantha of its status as a Semi – sentient AI, the Hologram used its maniple forcefields to lift the PADD from the foot of the bed and scrutinize her patients – chart.

“I mean, you look like a hot – mess girl.” Varada smirked, “But faking a heart attack by having a REAL heart attack…..well DAMN girl! You got some stones on YOU! Can’t say I like those on most women – but they seem to swing well on you!”

Commander Samantha Hyland glared back at the insouciant Hologram and folded her arms defensively.

“I’m full of hidden depths, once you get to know me.” Sam replied, tight lipped.

The hologram threw its dark green hair back and laughed lightly. “Oh! I’ll just bet you just DO! “

Varada looked around the sickbay and then her carrion stare returned to regard Samantha and her voice took on a lean edge.

“But Tick – Tock, Tick – Tock, Commander.” The Orion smiled nastily. “The shuttle for a Federation Penal Colony is warming-up on the pad and your little Asian – friend, Ms. Zhao, is being prepped for a VERY long stay in a Resort of Last – resort. DO you have the item that you were sent for?”

Flat-eyed, Sam retrieved the Isolinear Storage – chip from the drawers and held it up for the Hologram to see.

Bright light flickered in D’Taani’s eyes as the device was scanned and verified by the Holomatrix. The apparition of the Green Woman clapped her hands together in glee and crowed,

“Oh Sammie, Sammie, Sammie…. you have been a very naughty girl, but I LOVE ya work! Especially your ‘recent stuff’ !!”

Sam kept her voice neutral, inwardly fantasizing about how good it would feel to see the look on the smug – bitch’s green – face when they put her behind bars and Kennedy was free.

“So, I have Genesis. “Samantha challenged, “Now, are you going to sit there like a demented shadow – puppet self-congratulating yourself on your abject cleverness? Or are you going to tell me where you want this damned thing delivered to and put me out of our misery?”

The hologram of D’Taani Varada did a fair approximation of looking offended and sniffed.

“Someone got up on the wrong side of the Bio-bed this morning, I see?” Varada folded her ‘arms’, then grinned wide. She hopped up lightly and began to transcribe the air above the bio-bed with a slim green fingertip. As she did so, a Holomap seemed to magically resolve between them.

“But you’ve been out partying and so I guess you’re allowed to be a widdle-bit cranky the morning-after, aren’t you?!” The Hologram winked as it traced out a star map – glowing coordinated beginning to wink into existence in the virtual firmament.

Sam ignored the capricious hologram and peered at the star map, trying to make sense of where the handover of the stolen Genesis – data would take place (and where Captain Carrington would presumably spring his trap).

“The Vannis – system?” She hazarded.

“Bingo!” D’Taani smiled mockingly. “Bright Girl! An “A” in stellar cartography and a gold – star for you, Girl Scout! You can sit next to teacher on the bus on the way home from the zoo!!!”

Varada reached out and grabbed the centre of the holo-map, which obligingly zoomed in to a particular location.

“The Cattivo breakers – yard on Vannis – Ursus #3”, to be exact.” Varad absolutely purred with satisfaction.

“Can’t say I’ve ever been.” Sam remarked sarcastically.

“Utter shithole – you’re missing nothing.” The hologram waved off her remark easily. “A little – miss – Goody – two – shoes – Starfleet lackey like you wouldn’t normally get within 10 parsecs of a place like this. It’s as illegal as money is filthy & the day is long. Which is why it’s absolutely perfect for the little ‘Soiree’ that I have put together!”

“The handover will take place there?” Sam fished for confirmation.

“Handover?” Varada looked genuinely perplexed and laughed. “Oh! Good Gods, NO girl!” She zoomed in even more to reveal a particular derelict vessel near the centre of the yard, waiting it’s final fate like the others moldering around it.

“The AUCTION will be taking place here, amongst the faded glory of the former Starliner “Tonino Delli Colli”. Black-tie, exclusive guest list and all that. Some of the Galaxies heaviest – hitters will all be there, swinging their collective dicks and trying to out – nasty each other for this particularly juicy piece of the action.”

D’Taani’s hologram motioned towards the Genesis data in Samantha’s hand.

“All you have to do is run along, like a good little delivery girl and deliver that tasty – steaming order of “Yes – Please” to their doorstep and step back as the feeding frenzy of bidding begins!” Varada laughed – clearly enjoying herself.

Every fiber in Samantha’s body that was Starfleet wanted to rage and scream. To be asked to steal the secrets of Project Genesis to save the life of a friend and fellow officer was one thing. To be asked to deliver a technology with such an implicit ability to deal out total destruction to a cohort of criminals to be sold to the highest – bidder, was beyond unconscionable to her.

“And you’ll also be there too?” Samantha Hyland managed to ask without throwing the precious data – device at the unscrupulous hologram in a futile gesture of frustration.

The semi – aware hologram of D’Taani Varada tilted her head coquettishly and her green features were bisected by a megawatt – grin.

“Oh Sammie! “Varada smiled nastily, “THIS – I would not miss for all the money in the GALAXY!!!”