Star Trek [Star Trek] Wings of the Renaissance

[AndrewJTalon]

And here it is:

- - -


Outpost 444, Valo II, Bajoran Sector


2370


- - -


The hustle and bustle of an active hanger bay was the perfect background music for Rrirr Serkano's day off. She strode across the well worn metallic deck plates, past the various Peregrines and shuttles being tended, to an isolated corner of the large facility. It was marked with old style gantries and power generators, a metallic nest that Rrirr easily navigated with her usual grace. She purred happily at the sight that greeted her: A purple and yellow smallcraft, with a transparent dome on top of the cockpit. It was long and sleek, with a pair of cylinder-shaped nacelles tucked tightly underneath the hull.


Rrirr walked over and took hold of a panel on the side of the craft. She pulled the panel off, and wrinkled her nostrils at the smells that emerged. Even so, the smile didn't fade from her furry face. She set the panel aside and began digging into a nest of wires and transistors. She growled a bit at one of the components' stubbornness, and tugged a bit harder.


"Don't pull that hard, you'll rip the surrounding parts out," said a gravelly-tone. Rrirr Serkano looked up from the components and gave the speaker a smile, her tail wagging happily.


"Always were overly cautious, Pops" she said with genuine affection in her voice. The large, old Tellarite in engineering yellow coveralls, a utility belt wrapped around his belly, stood at the entrance to her nest. He snorted gently, taking a step into her domain with her unsaid permission.


“From long experience,” Bein “Pops” Heucke snorted. For a girthy alien, heavily built in muscle and fat, he moved with incredible gentleness. He took his place at the side of the open panel, and gave her a questioning look. Rrirr nodded, and moved back just a bit to let the Tellarite in. He leaned in and began sorting through the tangled mess, grumping a bit like a foraging pig.


“Didn’t your people ever hear of zipties?” He asked. Rrirr chuckled.


“We did. But even yours never figured out how to make them last forever,” she said.


“No, but we made them last long enough where it counted,” Pops retorted. In a few moments, his hands had rearranged the wires and cables from a rat’s nest to a proper network. He pulled out the capacitor she had been seeking, and tossed it over his shoulder with a snort. He retrieved a new one from his belt, and slid it into place with an audible click. Rrirr rumbled in slight annoyance.


“I was going to do all that,” she pointed out.


“Then you shouldn’a have let me fix what you wanted t’ mess up,” Pops replied. He brushed off his hands on his coveralls.


“Did you get your nickname before or after you got so old?” Rrirr asked, a playful smirk on her face as she rested a hand on her hip. Pops snickered.


“Actually I got called ‘Daddy’ a lot more often-”


“Please! None of that!” Rrirr hissed, folding her ears down. Pops kept up his grin, now moving onto other components in the panel and replacing them with expert precision.


“You act like nobody but you’vehad sex,” he huffed. “Strange fer a Caitian.”


“I’m afraid the oversexed nymphomaniac catgirls from your holosuite fantasies are exaggerated,” Rrirr replied flatly, climbing up to the cockpit. She tapped the side sensor, and it flipped open like a clamshell. She slid into the seat, even now running her fingers over the aged controls.


“Yeah, but you’d think you’d have found something other than a junk heap fighter to occupy your time,” Pops huffed. “Ain’t like some of the fellas haven’t been looking. And it ain’t like you don’t like the looking, either.”


Rrirr sighed, adjusting the subspace transator power flow through the old vehicle management system. “I’ve got enough on my plate than to play with a lot of boys,” she huffed. “Put that cable back where it was, I can’t see the input from the starboard sensor array.”


“Hmph,” Pops replied, popping the cable back in. “Better?”


“Much,” Rrirr said.


“Jest sayin’, it’s better for morale fer senior officers to mingle a bit more,” Pops said. Rrirr sighed.


“We’ve been over this before, Pops-”


“And we’ll keep going over it, long as it takes,” Pops retorted, climbing up to the side of the cockpit. He leaned over and glared at Rrirr, who was trying to ignore him by looking at her readings. “Shran’s been pulling his weight with the men-Why aren’t you? Yer his second.”


“I do the paperwork, I lead the training assignments, I train the pilots-” Rrirr rattled off, her fur a bit on end. The intimidation didn’t work, and Pops pressed on.


“You don’t talk to them. You fiddle with this old thing: So why?”


Rrirr sighed, adjusting the gain on one of the receivers. “We’ve been over this again and again-”


“Say it,” Pops stated clearly. Rrirr slowly looked over at Pops, glaring.


“I won’t,” she said. The Tellarite huffed.


“Fine then.”


Rrirr immediately narrowed her eyes in suspicion: The Tellarite had given up too quickly.


“Fine?” She asked.


“Fine,” he said with a nod. “Oh, by the way… Guess who’s on assignment fer helping you with this little project?”


Rrirr blinked. “I don’t need anyone to-”


“Starfleet hanger regulation 345.67 Section A, any maintenance on an obsolete craft using hangar resources is to be accompanied by another technician for support and the second pair of eyes protocol,” Pops recited, his tone sounding like a brick being dropped. “Furthermore, one of our new recruits is behind on personal maintenance instruction: One of the jobs of the squadron second in command.”


Rrirr glared hard at Pops. “I’m on my break and I don’t need to-”


“And the deadline for meeting the personal instruction requirement is 23:59 hours tonight,” Pops went on, undeterred.


“There are a dozen other pilots who can train him in the proper instruction-” Rrirr began, but Pops shook his head.


“As the point woman for the program, it’s your responsibility for when they fall behind. And the rest of the experienced pilots are on break too. So…” He stepped back, and like a magician held his hands out. A lithe, timid looking Asiatic human stepped in, and stood at attention.


“Um… Ensign Hiro Yuy, reporting for instruction, sir-ma’am!”


Rrirr gave Pops the iciest look she could manage: Ears down, fangs bared, tail standing on end. The Tellarite didn’t budge an inch, and Hiro looked like he’d rather be in the middle of a sun than here. Rrirr let out a deep sigh.


“I could order you to provide instruction for him,” she stated to Pops. Pops nodded.


“You could, yeh. You could do a lot of things,” he stated. Their staring contest continued for another intense few seconds. Rrirr turned her eyes to the nervous ensign. She let out a soft, barely audible sigh.


“Come on Ensign. Let’s start with some basics, all right?” She asked with some forced cheer. Hiro nodded, and approached the ship and the Caitian cautiously.


“Yes si-r-ma’am-Commander!”


Rrirr shot Pops one last icy look as he left. He didn’t even notice it, annoying her further. She then looked over at the ensign, and took a deep breath.


“Now then. Do you know what kind of craft this is?”


“A… A Pride Yards AC-97 R’are strike fighter, Commander,” Hiro replied quickly. Rrirr nodded slowly.


“Good. They’re not covered much at Starfleet Academy anymore, but were the mainstay of the Caitian Defense Fleets for half a human century. What else can you tell me about it?”


- - -


Bein “Pops” Heucke shook his head as he got onto the business of coordinating the night’s maintenance logs. Officers, he thought in distaste. For every one that had their head screwed on right, there was another drama queen thinking themselves the next Kirk for all the burdens on them. Still, at least she hadn’t tried to order him out of ego. Meant she had a good heart under all those issues. Issues he knew, didn’t talk about, but tried to help her deal with them anyway.


After all, between the idealists and primadonnas, someone had to keep things running. That was the job of the engineers, and more specifically: The Master Chief Petty Officers.

- - -

 

[AndrewJTalon]

- - -


Neptune Orbit, Sector 001


2367

- - -

Acceleration at maximum burn in a Starfleet training ship was a rough experience, especially with the inertial dampeners at minimum. Yet fighting against the gee forces kept his heart pounding, a grin on his face. Andross pushed himself harder, pulling himself into a tight turn to try and keep his enemy in his sites. The opposing ship was pulling the gees just as hard, before abruptly turning and darting out of the targeting cursor’s range. Andross pulled hard to follow along, starting to get the cursor back on the target again.


Sweat had been pouring down his face in his helmet for a while, but he kept blinking it away to keep his focus, keep pushing, keep going…!


The opposing ship pulled up, and hit the reverse thrusters hard. Andross slammed on the brakes himself, pulling to the right to keep the pip on the target. Then the target… Vanished, right into warp.


“What the-?!”


His sensors beeped loudly. He looked down at his console: He’d been hit by a simulated phaser blast from behind and above.


“Mauler to Echo 1: You’re dead… Again,” his instructor stated. Andross growled and slammed his hands against the console.


“Damnit!” He took a deep breath, calming himself as best he could. He hit the return communications button.


“Aye sir.”


“I think three hours is enough,” his trainer said. “Return to base.”


“Aye sir,” Andross managed, shifting to autopilot and changing course. He opened up his helmet, wiping the sweat from his face as best he could with the sleeve of his suit. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other ship fly upside down and slowly move up overhead. He leaned back, and saw the smiling face of his instructor.


“You’re been getting a lot better,” Mauler complimented him. Gottschalk grumbled.


“At dying, maybe,” he replied. “I missed that trick, again.”


The Cochrane Deceleration: One of the oldest tricks in starship combat. Yet Professor Chakotay was a master at it.


His instructor shook his head. “And you kept up longer.”


“Are you my teacher or my girlfriend?” Andross snorted. His instructor laughed.


“You can’t take a compliment, can you? Maybe you’ll be less ornery with a few drinks under your belt.”


“I doubt it,” he muttered.

- - -

It took only a few hours to get back to Earth and to land back at Edwards Spacebase. A quick transport and they were back in San Francisco. And it didn’t take long from there to get to the bar Earharts. It was bright and garish, and filled with happy Starfleet officers and personnel. Gottschalk sat at the bar, and his instructor, Chakotay, sat next to him.


“Antarian cider, two glasses,” he told the bartender, who nodded his bulbous head and got to work. Chakotay looked over at Andross, whose eyes were studiously on a PADD. Chakotay shook his head again, and reached out to take the PADD from him.


“Sir, I-”


“Drop it,” he stated. Andross stared in disbelief, and Chakotay sighed. “You’re graduating in a few weeks, near the top of your class, and you’re still picking at your performance?”


“I have to keep up,” Andross pointed out. “I got here without any references or connections or even family. I only did it this way: With hard work!”


The Federation did everything it could for orphans, but Andross had always felt incomplete compared to the other kids. His foster parents were kind and generous, and he cared for them, but that missing piece of himself… It was always so glaring inside him, no matter how he rationalized it.


“I know,” Chakotay said gently, “I understand. But you’re going to learn that treating everything like another test to pass isn’t going to cut it out there.” He shook his head. “I’ve seen officers like that, Andross. Hell, I was one.”


Andross frowned. Their drinks came, and he hesitantly took the glass. He sniffed it… And then sipped it. It was surprisingly good, and Chakotary threw back his own glass happily.


“So,” Andross said cautiously, “what did you do?”


Chakotay chuckled. “Me? I thought I could handle everything, all on my own. Until I ran up against a problem that humbled me. I learned from it, and I came out better by realizing I needed to ask others for help, and loosen up.” He tapped his glass, and the bartender poured some more. He took another drink, slower this time. Savoring it. Andross found himself copying the big Native American, and he had to admit it was better when you let it linger on your tongue.


“And… If I come against that?” Andross asked. Chakotay looked him dead in the eyes.


“If you do… You need to be able to take the blow and get back up,” Chakotary said. “Staying stiff will do nothing but make you shatter.”


Andross nodded. He looked back at his drink. “You know, you don’t have to do all this for me,” he explained. “I heard some of the other cadets talk about favoritism.”


Chakotay smirked. “Maybe I just like flying against someone who knows how to fly.”


They had a few more drinks, talked some more, and even tried karaoke. Andross was terrible at it drunk, but Chakotay was worse and they had a good laugh. And Andross had a new favorite drink.

- - -

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Graduation, and then assignment: The USS Monitor, a newer Nebula-class starship. He became a pilot of the shuttle complement and crosstrained as a tactical officer. He learned how to relax a little, meet his crewmates in the messhall and for drinks. For a year, everything seemed natural and easy. He got promoted to lieutenant, junior grade, and assigned as flight lead. He flew survey missions, relief, even a near encounter with a Romulan Warbird. Like something out of a recruitment vid.


Then came the mission to Maroa II. The planet’s inhabitants, the Maroans, had alternated between being close to the Romulan Empire and being interested in Federation membership for almost a century. Their rough and tumble democracy swung one way, and then another-Until finally, an anti-Federation extremist party managed to win. They ordered all Federation citizens offworld in 27 hours, and were threatening to kill any suspected sympathizers or pro-Federation citizens.


The Monitor couldn’t beam people up fast enough, so they’d launched runabouts to start ferrying people up from the Federation embassy in the capital, Rorsha’vek’ii. Around the walled compound of the embassy, thousands of desperate Maroans, their green skin tinged in purple flushes of fear and anger, desperately tried to get over the walls or through the gates. The ambassador at the embassy kept letting in small groups of people, evacuating his staff a piece at a time with them, but kept having to drive the crowds back with warning shots from phasers.


Andross kept his cool. He told jokes to the passengers, giving them reassuring smiles and gestures he’d learned quickly from the Maroan guides aboard. He flew them up fast and hard, getting around the sensor nets to deliver refugees to the Monitor or any of the other starships gathered in high orbit. He brought the Maroan equivalent of candy and handed it out to children as they boarded, and the kids waiting for their next runabout.


It was frenetic, but Andross kept his cool and he kept his smile.


Then, anti-Federation forces got into the mix. They started firing into the crowds outside the embassy, scattering them and causing panic and even more fighting. The press to get into the embassy became a riot. The staff had to evacuate up to the roof of the embassy, and still more people kept coming through.


Still Andross kept flying. Still he kept his smile.


Then that moment… He could never forget. He was flying in for another pick up-A desperate one. The crowd on the rooftop was massive, desperate people reaching out to him. He tried calling over the speakers to get them to back off, to wait. They couldn’t. So Andross improvised: He got in just close enough to open the rear hatch, and hovered in close enough to people to jump in. The mob swarmed in, stuffing the ship right into the cockpit. Still Andross held it steady, even with confused and frightened aliens muttering and breathing almost down his neck.


They got a lot of people off, but still too many were on the roof. He had to leave… Yet he saw a mother with two children hanging on for dear life to the outer hatch. He grimaced: They couldn’t get to space, to safety, like that. He tried to tell them to let go, that he would be back.


He had almost gotten them to let go, to be pulled back… When the missile lock alarm went off. He checked the screens: A Maraon personal anti-starship missile was locked on. It launched, all the interference being generated by the Maraon government to jam their sensors made it hard to spot. Andross swung around on instinct, pulling the runabout out of the way of the missile.


Realization hit him all too slowly-His maneuver tossed the desperate Maraons back into the crowd, sending so many of them over the edges of the roof and to the ground below. Andross watched every one of them fall, their screaming faces burning into his memory. Then.. The missile hit. Not the runabout: He’d evaded it.


It hit the embassy roof.


No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t forget the sound of… Debris raining down onto the hull of the runabout. The sights, the sounds…


The rest of that time, he was numb. Nothing seemed real, Nothing felt real.


He was brought before a hearing convened by the captain and the local JAG, to examine his actions during the incident. Not a court martial, no, but to determine whether to go ahead with it. Witnesses came forth: A few of the Maraons whose life he saved, some of the other officers he'd flown with. It all seemed to run together into a dull, gray hum.

Finally, he was called to the stand. Andross vaguely remembered words coming out of his mouth, describing what happened. Answering the questions asked.


He could remember the opposing officer asking if he felt he still deserved to be in Starfleet… And Andross couldn’t answer. Not for a while. Long enough she asked if he was able to answer.


“I don’t know,” he said honestly. She nodded, sympathy almost in her eyes. He was dismissed, and sent to his quarters for recess. There, he sat in darkness. Silent, save for his memories.


The beep of his console startled him. He almost considered ignoring it, going to bed to stare at the ceiling for a while longer. Ultimately, he saw the caller ID, and hit the receive button.


Chakotay was looking back at him, concern on his face.


“I heard about what happened,” he said. “Your ship's counselor said you refused to speak with him. So he called me up.”


“What happened was,” Andross tried, but stopped. He took a deep breath. “What happened was… You were right. I got… I took a hit. I fell.”


“... And now?” Chakotay asked softly, his forehead deeply wrinkled. Andross took another breath, as though being conscious of every part of his body. Like it belonged to someone else.


“Maybe I’m not cut out for this,” he admitted. “Maybe… Maybe I should just resign.”


“You could do that,” Chakotay agreed. “So why haven’t you?”


Andross grimaced tightly. “I… I don't know. Those people-”


“You lost people. It happens. The universe isn’t fair, and it will never be,” Chakotay said earnestly. “It doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”


“They told me that! But of I didn’t move, I would have-I could have-” Andross tried, but Chakotay silenced him with a glare.


“If you didn’t move, a lot more people would have died,” he stated firmly. “And so would you. Right now, you’re thinking ‘if I had died, maybe that would make up for them dying.’ But it wouldn’t. You’re still alive, and they died. But you dying wouldn’t change that. You didn’t choose to fire that missile-Someone else did. The fact it’s tearing you up inside means you’re a good man, Gottschalk. But that won’t bring them back. All it will do is end your life. The life you’re living, and the good you can still do.” He took a deep breath. “A Starfleet officer isn’t perfect. This is the biggest myth created ever since the idea of making a perfect man arose. A Starfleet officer just does the best he can, for those he can.”


“And if my best isn’t good enough?” Andross asked, almost a growl. “What then?”


“Then you pick yourself back up, and try again,” Chakotay said, not intimidated in the least. “So… What are you going to do, Lieutenant Andross Gottschalk? Are you going to lie there? Or are you going to pick yourself back up?”


Andross stared back. He took another deep breath, and he felt a little more alive. A little less numb.


“... I think… I’m going to pick myself back up.”


Chakotay smiled.


“Good answer.”


So he went to the board. He said he had made a mistake, but he was willing to stay in the service. The captain agreed, but suggested a less stressful assignment. Which is how he had come to Outpost 444. Which demonstrated the captain’s idea of less stressful: Being on the Border with the Carassians in a system just beginning to recover from decades of their rule.


Yet Andross hadn’t regretted this assignment… Until now.


- - -

 

[AndrewJTalon]

- - -


Orbit of Veloz Prime


2370


- - -


There was silence on the other end of the communications line.


“Bran. It’s been a while,” Chakotay said, very calmly, as though they were talking in a bar and not facing each other with armed weapons. “How’s the Peregrine treating you?”


“Very well,” Gottschalk replied. “My engineer, Keiko, is great with them. They’re old but you can still do interesting things in them.”


“Ah, thanks,” Keiko said, a bit awkwardly.


“Bran! This is Chevalier, Flight Lead!” Amati barked over the comms. “You will cease speaking to the enemy and immediately-”


“Sir, wait, please,” Andross interrupted. “Let me try. There’s no reason this has to escalate into violence, let me talk to him-”


“They are violating the treaty with illegally obtained weapons and they will surrender or-!” Amati shot back.


“A Starfleet officer not seeking a peaceful solution? Immediately resorting to violence?” Chakotay asked dryly. “I can see the standards have slipped since I resigned.”


“You’re one to talk about being a Starfleet officer, you traitor!” Amati growled. “You will surrender immediately!”


“I don’t think so,” Chakotay said coolly.


“Sir, please,” Andross tried again, the cold sweat pooling on his forehead. “Professor, you don’t have to do this. Let’s talk this out, please!”


“Chakotay, if you do not surrender in five seconds, I will open fire. And Bran, if you do not shut up I’ll have you court martialed!” Amati practically snarled. “Five-”


“Commander, I respectfully disagree with this course of action,” Suref broke into the comms. “It is not logical to engage immediately in combat when a peaceful solution-”


“Four, three-”


“I don’t think a peaceful solution is really possible here,” Chakotay observed, his fighters forming up in front of the cargo ship.


“This is the height of stupidity,” Keiko groaned.


“Two, one! Chevalier Flight, engage targets, NOW!” Amati shouted, and his fighter charged. Hajar’s fighter joined in for cover, while Suref’s fighter hung back. Amati’s fighter flew right at Chakotay’s Raider. The raider charged back, the other fighters flanking him.


“Sir, sir, pull back! Pull back!” Andross warned.


Amati instead… Hit his warp engines and vanished, reappearing behind the Maquis ships. He came out of the warp hop pointed away from the ships, and hastily hit his thrusters to position his nose at them. The time he spent doing this though let Chakotay’s group scatter. It didn’t seem to phase the lieutenant commander though.


“Microphotons, LAUNCH!” He shouted… And the pods attached to both of his wings promptly exploded, bursting into plasma flames. “Wait, what-?!”


“Mychol!” Keiko shouted at Amati's SIO. “Eject the pods, NOW!”


“I didn’t order tha-” Amati tried, but the pods soon shot off the Peregrine, the explosive bolts going off to get them as far away as possible. With good reason: In the next second, their warheads went up in two massive antimatter explosions that knocked Amati’s fighter away. Andross checked his sensors.


“Two life signs… But they’re not going anywhere for a while,” Andross breathed out. The fighter was completely disabled, which was probably for the best.

He got a phaser lock warning, and instinctively hit his impulse engines to full and dove to avoid the phaser blast. The lead Raider was firing on him, wingtip mounted cannons blazing away.
“Suref, Hajar, form up on me!” Andross ordered, pulling up to charge at the belly of the Raider. The other Raider charged in, firing its own phasers and forcing Andross to break off and jink wildly.


“I am unable to comply, Bran,” Suref replied. “The two fighters are engaging Hajar and myself. I believe her communications are down.”


Andross cursed, and accelerated upwards as the two Raiders continued their phaser attack. They were trying to box him in-Classic Chakotay.


“Hang on... “ He hit full reverse and spun the fighter around, screaming right at the nearest Raider. A phaser blast got close, grazing the shields on the port wing, but it didn’t deter him. He got close, closer still, and then hit reverse once he saw the belly of the Raider in his sites. The other Raider, attempting to hit him, had to cease fire once he got too close to its partner vessel. Andross kept his course on tight, even as the Raider tried to swoop to the side to open Andross up to Chakotay’s fire. He stayed with the Raider, sticking like glue and using him as a shield.


“Better,” Chakotay’s voice broke over the communications, as Andross mirrored the Raider’s movements. “But I hope you haven’t forgotten-”


The Raider bucked sharply, spinning on its axis to try and spit phaser shots right into his face. Andross, anticipating this, hit full ventral thrusters to dodge and fired his own phasers in a barrage. The Raider, not anticipating this, was hit multiple times on its shields and engines, shields flickering under the assault and then fading. Four phaser hits struck home, right on the dorsal side near the engines.


“Their main power and engines are disabled,” Keiko read in satisfaction. “Good shooting!”


“You did the targeting,” Andross complimented, even now boosting away to avoid Chakotay’s fire.


“Looks like you didn’t forget that lesson,” Chakotay said over the comms. He broke from Andross’s fighter and shot for Suref and Hajar, who were locked in a tight contest with their smaller counterparts. Andross hit the impulse drive to full, chasing after him.


“You don’t have to do this,” Andross tried again. “You don’t have to keep doing this. Professor, please-”


“It’s not going to work, son,” Chakotay said quietly. “My decision was made for me when the Cardassians took Trebus and killed my father.”


“There’s always a choice!” Andross argued. Chakotay’s Raider spun around on its axis to fire phasers again, and Andross dodged the shots. “You taught me that!”


“Life has a way of teaching us new things,” Chakotay stated, almost sadly. His Raider swung around Andross’ return fire, and pointed its nose at Suref’s fighter. The Vulcan was quickly evading the phaser shots from the Maquis Peregrine, trying to return the fire but locked in a tight dogfight. Andross grit his teeth.


“Suref! Break to 247! And launch one of your torpedoes behind you! Yield level five!” Andross ordered.


“That won’t do any-” Keiko protested. Andross ignored her.


“Do it!” He shouted.


The Vulcan offered no comment, but obeyed: His ship turned and narrowly evaded Chakotay’s phaser blast. The Maquis Peregrine behind him accelerated, phasers charged and locked.


“Papa 2,” Suref stated, and a photon torpedo shot from underneath his wing behind him. Andross locked his phasers and fired… On the torpedo, making it detonate into a large, bright plasma flash. The Maquis Peregrine, eyes and sensors blinded, broke off-Right into Andross’s phaser barrage. His shots took off one wing, the next hit the impulse engines and sent the ship spinning out of control, helpless.


“Oh my,” Keiko murmured. Andross could tell she was smiling. The phaser lock alarm went off, too late-A shot hit Andross’s wing dead on even as he was breaking port, his shields down to almost nothing. The little fighter shook and rattled hard, and Andross struggled to keep her on course.


“That’s a new one, I’ll admit,” Chakotay said. “I’ll have to remember it.”


“Suref, help out Hajar,” Andross ordered, banking hard. The Raider filled the space around him with phaser blasts.

"Professor, please,” Andross called again,“stop this! Acting out of revenge-”


“Acting out of revenge implies I want all Cardassians dead. That’s not true,” Chakotay argued back. “I want to defend my home and keep what happened to my father from ever happening again.”


“As a renegade? You keep this up, you won’t have any support in the Federation!” Andross insisted, flipping back around to pump a barrage of phaser fire back. They hit where Chakotay’s ship was only a moment before, the Maquis Raider having broke just in time. “The treaty is bad, but there are better ways to fix it than this!”


“Evil prevails while good men do nothing,” Chakotay argued back, his own phaser fire coming uncomfortably close to Andross’ cockpit. “Selling out innocent people for a treaty the Cardassians are already violating is not what I signed up for!”


“You said it yourself: Nothing is perfect! But we have a better chance to make it work or find a better way together! Not fighting one another!” Andross tried. He rolled too late-A phaser blast hit the nose of the fighter. “Gah! Keiko!”


“We lost our main sensors! I’m switching to back ups on the pods!” Keiko cried. “Also, while this conversation is very interesting and kind of hot-”


“Kind of what?” Andross muttered in disbelief.


“The cargo ship is launching torpedoes!” Keiko finished.


Chakotay’s voice was surprised.


“What?! I didn’t order a launch! Paris, Seska, do you read me-?”


Andross swung the fighter around, spotting the cargo ship easily. It was a silver gray brick, spitting out bright orange photon torpedoes like a flower ejecting pollen. Twenty, thirty, fifty of them…


“At us?” Andross asked Keiko. Keiko hissed.


“They’re targeted at the colony,” she said. “All of them.”


The torpedoes shot past. Andross grit his teeth.


“Suref, can you assist?”


“This last fighter is extremely difficult,” Suref replied. “We can’t get there in time!”


Andross swung his ship around and activated the warp drive. Without the main sensors, he had to guess as to where to navigate to. He really hoped he was right. He tapped the key on the throttle… The stars stretched out and blurred around them. He tweaked the warpfield geometry and hit the thrusters, spinning them around on their axis. He cut the warp drive and the universe returned to normal…


With a starfield full of photon torpedoes screaming right at him.


“Do the targeting sensors on the pods still work?” Andross asked.


“Hang on,” Keiko said. “They should… I need to get them back online…!”


“Keiko,” Andross said warningly, as the torpedoes got bigger, and bigger…


“Almost there…!” Keiko insisted. “Be patient!”


“Keiko,” Andross stated, his heart pounding in his ears. He was amazed he sounded so calm.


“Got it!” Keiko cried, and the targeting cursor appeared in his vision. He hit full reverse on the impulse drive, sorting through the nearest torpedoes and opening up on them with the microphotons. First one went up, then another, and another, the microphotons screaming at their larger brothers and taking both of them out in mutual destruction.


“Also, good news!” Keiko cried. “They’re not targeting the colony anymore: They’re after us!”


“Great!” Andross returned sarcastically.


One torpedo shot for them at full speed, and Andross broke upwards. He launched a microphoton and the torpedo went up, the shockwave shaking the fighter so hard he almost felt his teeth rattle. Andross pressed on, locking onto another torpedo and firing, and another, and another… Until the pods were spent.


“Twenty torpedoes still on course!” Keiko cried. Despite being cheap ones, they were swarming all around the Peregrine. Andross’s phaser trigger finger stayed down hard, one torpedo after another glowing up in a burst of gamma rays and energy. Without the targeting sensors, he had to eyeball every shot: And that meant getting close.


He barely avoided another one, this skimming within proximity detonation range. For a moment, as it passed by, he thought he could see his life flash before his eyes.


The torpedo flew by, still intact. Andross swung around and hit full reverse, his phaser blast striking true. The Peregrine drifted, surrounded by the remnants of multiple antimatter warheads behind forcibly detonated. Its crew panting for breath.


“That… That’s all of them,” Keiko gasped in relief. “Chakotay’s incoming!”


Andross was already tired, and stressed, and on the edge. But he still hit the throttle and turned to avoid another shot from the Raider. He swung around and flew right at the Raider, phasers blazing.


The Raider deftly avoided the barrage, and returned one of its own. Andross dodged that one too, and pulled hard into a turning fight with the Raider. Given the Peregrine’s smaller mass and size, the Raider was at a disadvantage. This Chakotay knew, so he powered up and broke off, Andross still right with him.


“Suref, how are you?” Andross called.


“Last fighter has been disabled. However, both our fighters are in no better shape,” Suref replied. “We are heading towards you at impulse.”


“You’ve gotten a lot better,” Chakotay broke the radio silence at last, “you really have.”


“Professor… Chakotay, please,” Andross tried again. “What’s the point of continuing this fight? You know we have reinforcements coming. The mission is a failure. Save your people: Surrender.”


“Knowing your fight is hopeless doesn’t deter a lot of people. In fact, it encourages them,” Chakotay replied. He broke suddenly, full reverse thrust. “If you get knocked down again… You just get back up.”


Andross broke starboard, rising, and avoided Chakotay’s phaser shot. He returned one of his own, a hit the larger Raider took on its shields.


“If the cause is just and necessary,” Andross said. “The treaty may be unjust, but you just launched fifty torpedoes at a civilian colony. How is that going to help your cause? Your people?!”


“Mistakes were made,” Chakotay admitted. “But there is no choice here, Andross.”


“There’s always a choice. It’s always yours to make. Please, Chakotay,” Andross pleaded, his voice breaking just a little. “I didn’t have a choice to be an orphan. You didn’t have a choice to lose your father. But you chose to teach me, chose to help me. Chose to do the right thing. Please… Choose it now.”


There was a pregnant pause.


“Are you sure this isn’t the right thing?” Chakotay asked, brittle now.


“Are you?” Andross countered.


The Raider abruptly engaged its warp engines and vanished in front of them. Andross grit his teeth: The sensors were down, he had nothing to go on for targeting…


Save one thing.


He tilted up and to starboard, and squeezed the trigger. And just as he did, the Raider reappeared, its own phasers locked on and firing. The Peregrine was hit in its main engines, and only an emergency plasma vent by Keiko kept the vessel from going up into a fireball. The Raider took a shot right in its own sensors and power distribution systems, and its lights went dark.


The two ships hung in space, both crippled. Andross was breathing hard, dripping in sweat, as he tried to keep the ship steady. The master alarm was shrieking in his helmet, so he turned it off.


“... I was hoping you’d fall for that trick again,” Chakotay said at last, a faint note of pride in his tight voice.


“I didn’t,” Andross retorted.


“No,” Chakotay said, a sad chuckle on his lips. “However: Your weapons and engines are down.”


“Your shields and weapons are gone,” Andross stated back. “And I’ve got friends coming.”


“I’m glad you do,” Chakotay said. “I’m glad you take such good care of them. As for me… I need to take care of mine.”


“Professor,” Andross said, “please. Just-”


“It doesn’t matter how many times you ask, Andross. I won’t do it. We’re beyond words now,” Chakotay stated harshly. “I’m not your teacher anymore. If you’re going to keep enforcing this treaty, you’re my enemy. But you don’t have to be. Join us. You saved this colony: You can keep us from going too far. We need men like you, to remind us of things other than hate and loss.”


Andross was silent for a time. He had to admit, there was a brief temptation.


“Every man has a choice,” he finally said. “This is mine… No matter the consequences.”


He could almost see Chakotay’s slow nod. “I understand.”


Andross supposed he really did.


The Raider turned and flew off, managing a limping warp jump out to the other Raider. It jumped to the two fighters, before one last jump took it to the cargo ship. Then, having finished its task, it jumped to warp, heading out of the system. Andross let out a breath: Long and deflating, as he felt like he’d just melt.

Then...

“This is USS Bradbury to Chevalier Flight, do you read?” A starship captain announced over the communications. Andross hit the receive button.


“This is Bran, of Chevalier Flight. Our lead has been disabled, the rest of us aren’t in much better shape. Would appreciate assistance.”


“Acknowledged. We were able to monitor the fight from outside the system,” the captain said. He let out a low whistle. “That was some scrap… You did great.”


“Thank you,” Andross replied. He leaned back in his chair, staring up at the stars. He felt Keiko’s hand rest on his shoulder.


“You did all you could,” Keiko consoled. Andross slowly nodded.


“Maybe I did,” he said. He sighed. “It wasn’t enough.”


“No,” Keiko said, “but it’s like you both said: It’s your choice to make.”


“But who made the wrong one?” Andross asked softly, staring out into the stars. Keiko squeezed his shoulder.


“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” She asked. Andross managed a nod. “But personally, I’m glad you didn’t choose him.”


“Oh? Why?” Andross asked, craning his neck to look into Keiko’s face. She was smiling pleasantly.


“Because then I’d have to shoot you with my phaser,” she said cheerfully. “I’d hate to lose my favorite test pilot.”


Andross managed a chuckle at that. Keiko kept smiling. His chuckled slowly died.


“... Please tell me that was a joke,” Andross asked. Keiko tilted her head, beaming like a sun.


“I guess we’ll never know: Will we?”


- - -

Feel free to comment.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

- - -


USS Bradbury, NX-72307


Return Trip to Deep Space Nine


- - -


The Bradbury was an experimental heavy cruiser design, a double hulled vessel with a large, oval-shaped saucer to mate them together. The nacelles were integrated into the two hulls, presenting a small, tight profile yet with plenty of hangar and cargo space. Andross was frankly shocked they’d managed to get a ship this big allowed into the Demilitarized Zone: Usually that paperwork took months, yet here she was, an angel of mercy. Their tractor beam brought them in to the large, well lit and busy aft shuttlebay, and the antigravs managed to bring them in softly onto the deck. The real turbulence greeted them the moment the canopy opened and Andross had helped Keiko out of the backseat.


“Officers, put Mister Gottschalk and Miss Matsunaga under arrest!”


Andross turned around, greeted by goldshirts flanking Amati. Trailing behind the irate Frenchman was little Mychol, looking awkward. Amati glared and pointed his finger like a phaser, hitting between his eyes.


“Oh what is this bullshit?” Keiko asked quite loudly.


“You disobeyed my orders, and you fitted my ship with defective equipment!” Amati bellowed. “You might have gotten us all killed!”


Andross took a deep breath. He tried to count to ten. He saw Suref, Hajar, Ro’ad and Zohnuld coming up from their own fighters. Hajar in particular looked livid.


“You and your stupid, primitive twenty-first century nonsense! You’re no better than a cavewoman!” Amati continued. Andross instinctively gripped Keiko’s arm, keeping her from lunging at Amati.


“Sir, I think this is the kind of thing to talk about in private, without security, with a senior officer,” Suref tried attempted. Hajar, a young human woman with brunette hair, was less calm.


“He saved our butts and you try to blame him for your own incompetence?!” Hajar asked in outrage. “How dare you-!”


“Shut it Hajar! You’ll get yours too for being useless!” Amati snarled. He turned back to Andross, who was mentally counting to ten. He had a defense, he was going to try to reason with him-


“And you, Gottschalk! You’re lucky you didn’t kill more civilians! Like last time-!”


And with Amati's last shout, he was already balling his fists. Andross glared right back into Amati’s eyes, angry enough that even Amati took a step back. He took another step forward, ready to throw a punch and knock out every tooth in that smug, sanctimonious mouth even as he began his rant.


“You stupid, lying, incompetent sack of-!”


“STAND DOWN!” Shouted a commanding voice, and Andross pulled his fist back. The other people on the deck scattered or stood at attention, as Commander Shran strode down the deck like as avenging god. He was furious, his eyes filled with thunder. Andross found himself standing at attention, like a first year cadet again.


“Sirs,” Amati began, “these two-They disobeyed my orders and fitted my ship with defective equipment-”


“He’s a lying stupid son of a-!” Andross erupted, but at Shran’s glare he shut up. That glare was turned onto Amati, but Andross still kept his lip buttoned.


“First rule of good command, Mister Amati,” Shran practically growled, “is that you don’t humiliate your subordinates when they’ve just returned from grueling combat saving your life.”


Amati gaped. “S-Sir, but-!”


“Mister Amati,” Shran resumed, “I reviewed the sensor and communications logs myself. Would you like to know what I saw?” He asked. Amati shook his head.


“Ah, s-sir, I-”


“I saw you immediately threaten the opposing forces, without even attempting to talk them down,” Shran thundered, “despite someone who personally knew their leader with you! You never considered letting him talk to try and defuse the situation!”


“But I-”


“Then,” Shran continued, as though Amati had not even spoken, “you charged ahead and failed to properly execute the Cochrane Deceleration Maneuver. You utilized prototype equipment, that had barely finished testing.” He turned his eyes onto Keiko. “Chief Warrant Officer Matsunaga, did you provide Mister Amati with instructions on the operation of the pods?”


“Yes sir, I did,” Keiko replied, “and I gave Mychol over there instructions on how to operate things properly!”


“Ensign Jin,” Shran said, his gaze turning to the little Tullian, “did Chief Matsunaga provide you with instructions for safe operation of the equipment?”


Mychol looked like a nervous wreck. Still, he steeled himself, even with Amati’s glare on him.


“Y-Yes sir,” Mychol immediately replied. “She even talked me through the powerup sequence. Then the commander ordered me to skip it, and power it up to full.”


“Ah! You can’t do that!” Keiko interjected. “It overloaded the pods!”


Amati sputtered.


“W-Well then it-I mean he must have done it wrong!” The lieutenant commander cried, even as Mychol winced. “It was defective, he was defective-!”


“Mister Amati,” Shran stated, cold as ice and heavy as a glacier. “You are the one who initiated hostilities. You are the one who charged ahead, alone, without telling your squadron your intentions. You are the one who ordered these pods fitted to your ship and did not operate them properly according to instructions by their creator. You are the one who put yourself out of commission with a stupid stunt and it was Lieutenant Gottschalk who took command and not only kept the squadron intact, he also prevented the massacre of over fifteen thousand Cardassian civilians. The only one disputing these facts is you.”


Amati probably did the smartest thing he had in his entire life, and kept silent, his lips as thin as a nanofiber. Shran shook his head.


“Two centuries ago, had you been a member of the Andorian Guard I would have been well within my rights to toss you right through that forcefield into hard vaccuum,” Shran stated, slow and hard as he pointed at the stars beyond. Amati winced. “A century ago, in Starfleet, you’d have been clapped in irons and locked in the brig. Now?”


“Now, sir?” Amati managed. Shran sighed.


“This is my responsibility,” he stated. “You were clearly not ready for this responsibility, or for this command. So I’ll make it simple.” He reached out and grasped a pip on Amati’s collar. He pulled it off, ignoring Amati’s wince. “You are demoted to Lieutenant, and restricted to select duties until the outcome of the inquiry. Hopefully, what I’ve done will be enough, no further punishment required.” Shran grasped Amati’s shoulders and glared at him right in the eyes. “In the meantime, I suggest you accept the fact that the only one to blame for this is you. That makes the solution easy: You have to fix you.” Shran let him go, and stepped back. “Now go to the guest quarters and stay there. Dismissed!”


Amati nodded slowly, turned away, and headed for the hangar bay exit looking like a whipped puppy. It was hard to feel much pity for him though. Then Shran turned his glare onto Andross, who found he couldn’t stand up any straighter. Though Lord knows he tried.


“Mister Gottschalk,” Shran said, “the communications logs reveal that you tried to talk down Chakotay repeatedly. Is that true?”


“Yes sir,” Andross replied.


“That he offered membership in the Maquis to you?” Shran further inquired. Andross stiffened, and Suref stepped forward.


“Sir, may I point out-” The Vulcan began.


“You may not,” Shran stated curtly, and Suref fell silent. “Well Gottschalk?”


“Yes sir, he did,” Andross said.


“And you refused?” Shran further inquired.


“Yes sir,” Andross replied. Shran raised his pale brows.


“You didn’t attempt pursuit after disabling his vessels. Or order pursuit. Why?” Shran asked. Andross steeled himself.


“I had two combat capable fighters left. Two of my ships were disabled. The mission was accomplished: Their heavy ordnance had been intercepted and the colony was safe. To pursue them at this stage would risk my squadron’s lives.”


Shran nodded. “I see.” He sighed, long and hard. “Well. Since I’m down one squadron lead already, looks like I’ll need a new one. And seeing as you can do the job under the most stressful circumstances, I guess it’ll have to be you.” He reached up, the pip he’d taken from Amati in his fingers. He pinned it onto Andross’ collar. Andross blinked, and reached up to touch the pips. Making sure they were real. Keiko whistled and grinned.


“I… Thank you sir,” Andross managed. Shran snorted.


“Don’t thank me. The more pips you have, the more paperwork, the more headaches, and the more shavit you have to put up with. Pray to whatever gods you believe in you never get three pips. Or God forbid, four. You’ll wish you’d gone into botany.” Shran looked over at Keiko, who held up her hands.


“Hey, don’t look at me. I don’t want a promotion! But more lab space, if you could manage it?”


“As much as I know I’m probably going to regret it, yes,” Shran stated dryly, and Keiko whooped. The big Andorian turned around to the rest of the flight section members. “You’re all dismissed. Get acquainted with your new squadron lead: You’re going to need it.”


Shran turned and headed off. The rest of the squadron closed in on Andross, Suref leading. He extended his hand, and Andross took it.


“Congratulations, Lieutenant,” he stated. “I am sure you will perform your role adequately.”


“Thanks Suref,” he replied. Hajar was next, patting him on the shoulder with a smile.


“Thanks for the assist,” she said.


Ro’Ad gave a big, toothy grin, which was a bit unsettling to humans but Andross knew the Gallamite was pleased.


“Couldn’t wait for that blowhard to get what was coming to him,” Ro’Ad said. Zira Zohnuld, a pretty green Orion woman, gave him a sensuous grin and wink.


“Well congrats, you just became interesting,” she purred. At Hajar’s elbow jab, she pouted. “I mean, good on you, sir.”


“Thanks,” Andross said. He looked over at Mychol, the little Tullian awkward. Keiko soon walked up to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.


“You did great!” She said happily. “Tell me, what do you know about a show called ‘Macross’?”


“Nothing,” the Tullian admitted. Keiko practically squealed.


“Then there’s no time to lose! We must binge watch it immediately! Come on!” She grabbed his hand and dragged him off. Andross shook his head, glancing over at Suref as the rest of the squadron grinned or snickered.


“I’m kind of glad to have her attention off me,” he said. Suref raised an eyebrow.


“I find that unlikely,” he stated. Andross blinked, still smirking.


“Was… That a joke?” He asked. Suref raised both eyebrows and made a slight shrug.


“After a fashion, sir,” he said.


Andross sighed, chuckling a bit. “I think we’re going to get on fine, you and I. I say we get some drinks and help out poor Mychol. Do you agree?”


“You are squadron lead, after all,” Suref said. Andross nodded to the rest of the pilots and officers, who turned and followed the energetic Japanese woman and the hapless Tullian. Suref paused a moment.


“I am sorry you were unsuccessful in your negotiations with Chakotay, sir.”


Andross’s smile faded. He looked out at the stars. He took a deep breath.


“So am I,” he said.


I made my choice… So did he.


He turned back to the Vulcan. “Well… Let’s not keep them waiting.”


“Yes sir,” Suref replied.


“You know, you don’t have to call me that,” Andross pointed out as they made for the hangar bay doors. “We’re off duty.”


“Of course sir,” Suref replied. Andross sighed, his fingers reaching up to his pips.


That damn Andorian: Did he always have to be right?


- - -


Maquis Base, The Badlands


2370


- - -


Mining equipment allowed you to make an asteroid livable, but not much more than that. The empty caves and tunnels were kept breathable by force fields, duracrete sealing, and hydroponics bays. The heat from the generators was moved through radiators and warming systems to keep the temperature above freezing. Ice was melted and filtered for water, for drinking or bathing and almost got the metallic flavor out of it. And artificial gravity nets made it possible to walk or float around as needed.


It was possible to live here, yes, Chakotay reflected. He had to admit though, it was a mean, barebones and desperate kind of life. Even the modest decor he’d added felt out of place in the drab surroundings, as he sat in his quarters and contemplated his medicine bundle.


It was the only thing he’d found intact among the ruins of his father’s home on Trebus. His father Kolopak, the community shaman, sometimes leader, and teacher. The guide to so many, the intermediary between the living and spirit world and in navigating the tricky pitfalls of morality. A role Chakotay was expected to take, had been brought up to take. Yet Starfleet had called too strongly, and so he’d gone out among the stars. His father had never approved, and so they hadn’t spoken. Hadn’t reconciled, until the Cardassians had sent Kolopak off to the other side.


Chakotay wondered what his father would think of him now. Drawing on what he had rejected for strength, following his own path and rejecting the Starfleet and Federation he’d run away to.


Being a father and teacher to a young man he now had to call his enemy.


“You wanted to see me?” A proud female voice announced herself at the door. Chakotay looked up.


Seska was a Bajoran, but unlike many of the curvy members of the female half of that species she was skinny and slight. Ramrod straight, all angles, with cold, hard eyes. Yet this was a side she presented to everyone else: At times, she could be quite warm. He stood up, eyes locked on hers. A regenerative bandage pack was on her left arm, and another small one on her forehead.


“Who fired off the torpedoes?” He asked. “I explicitly ordered not to fire until my command.”


Seska shrugged. “Maybe Paris panicked. The rest of the crew was killed when that plasma conduit blew.”


“B’Elanna told me that conduit was secure,” Chakotay stated evenly. Seska sighed, shaking her head.


“She’s a decent engineer, Chakotay, and my friend… But let’s be honest. Some days she couldn’t identify shit with a tricorder,” she stated bluntly. Chakotay scowled, but nodded. For all of her talent, the half-Klingon girl was very short tempered and easily frustrated. Things that easily led to mistakes.


“All right. After the conduit blew, what happened?”


Seska tensed mildly.


“I was separated from the cockpit,” Seska said smoothly, her hands clasped tight behind her back. “I tried to raise Paris but he must have been knocked out at some point after he launched the torpedos: We got shook up so much I nearly broke an arm. I couldn’t get past the plasma leak, and I don’t think you’d have wanted me to risk the transporters.”


“No,” Chakotay admitted, and Seska nodded in affirmation. “But we lost Paris. He was a good pilot.”


“He was also an idiot, just in it to escape or to get back at his dear old dad,” Seska snorted. “We can afford to lose someone with untrustworthy motives.”


“I guess we’ll have to see, won’t we?” Chakotay sighed. He fixed Seska with a phasers beam thin look. “That said, if those torpedoes had hit-”


“If they did, that’s thousands of fewer Cardassians around to rape, murder and pillage innocent worlds,” Seska practically growled, her voice hard and bitter. Chakotay held back a sigh. He hated the Cardassian military for murdering his father. Seska had to live with their occupation murdering and destroying her homeworld for sixty years.


It was hard to have an argument on morality with that much pain. So he approached it differently.


“If they had, we’d lose any possible support we might have in the Federation,” Chakotay pointed out. Seska snorted. “And we need that.”


“You can’t expect to fight this war without getting your hands dirty,” Seska stated emphatically, her eyes locked onto his. Chakotay allowed himself a nod.


“Maybe. But there are lines I’m not willing to cross,” he stated. Seska arched her brow.


“And if it comes down to us, or that boy you taught? Will you cross that line?”


Chakotay bit down an angry retort. He took a deep breath.


“It won’t come to that,” Chakotay said slowly. Seska huffed, walking up close to Chakotay.


“Are you sure?” She asked. Chakotay shook his head, that old protective feeling rising in him again.


“He’s young and inexperienced. I taught him everything he knows-”


“And he managed to ruin our entire plan and disable most of our ships,” Seska pointed out.


“He was holding back,” Chakotay argued. “He was sentimental.”


Seska glared.


“And you weren’t?” She shot, striking true. Chakotay raised his hackles.


“The more people we kill, the harder it is to get support-!”


“Hang your support!” Seska growled back. “We’re not running a public relations firm, Chakotay! He’s a good pilot, and he’s getting better all the time! Good enough that he might outclass you eventually.” She took a deep breath. “Unless you nip him in the bud.”


“I can’t kill one of my own students, Seska,” Chakotay retorted, the truth coming out at last. Seska glared back.


“He’s not your student now, Chakotay! He’s your enemy! We’re your allies! Your friends!” She looked aside, and pressed her slim body against him. “Maybe… More than that,” she said, her voice becoming warmer and less hostile. Chakotay hesitated a moment, before holding her back.


“Yes, you are,” Chakotay said. “Do you trust me?”


Seska snorted. “What sort of question is-”


“Do. You. Trust me?” Chakotay asked. Seska sighed, nuzzling his broad chest.


“Of course I do,” she said softly. “But this is bothering you. And it is a risk. And you appreciate honesty.”


“I do,” Chakotay admitted, his hands roaming her body. “So trust me when I say: It won’t come to that. I can deal with him.”


Seska sighed softly, nuzzling him back. “Then I suppose I have no choice but to take your word, hm?”


“That’s all any of us have to go on,” Chakotay admitted, leading her to the bed. Time to think about things other than their desperate circumstances.


Time to think about things other than the young man who’d tried so hard to reach out to him.


In the end, that was the only thing they had.


- - -

Well, that's pretty much it for this chapter. Though maybe one or two more things need to be settled.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

- - -

Federation Starbase Deep Space Nine, Bajoran Sector


2370

- - -

The mechanical groan of the airlock rolling out of the way was clearly in Keiko’s ears as the hatch opened. It locked and secured itself automatically, sounds soon covered by the bustle and conversations of the Promenade. She was bumped slightly from behind, and she got walking, stepping out onto the large, open space of Deep Space Nine’s inner ring. She looked over her shoulder, a little annoyed at the brightly smiling Zira as the rest of the people waiting with them shuffled out and spread into the crowds.

“Daydreaming?” The Orion woman asked. Keiko shook her head.

“No, just… Thinking,” she admitted. “The airlock cycle sounds different. I might have to take that into account for the assessment.” She immediately had her PADD out, and was taking notes. She’d agreed to do a tactical assessment on Deep Space Nine for Commander Shran, with the hopes of learning how to better defend it against a possible attack: The 477th Squadron, after all, was the closest help if the station got into trouble.

Zira smoothly moved in front of her and rested her green hands over Keiko’s. The Japanese human looked up at her with a scowl.

“You know, you don’t have to immediately start work,” Zira advised. “ We’re technically on leave, after all. Maybe you could relax a little first?” She smiled mischievously. “I’m meeting the rest of the Squadron at Quark’s. Why not come along? Try a holosuite?”

“I’m not immediately starting work, I’m just taking some notes,” Keiko protested, pulling her hands back. The Orion woman frowned as people moved around them. The human smiled back.

“But a drink does sound good,” she said. Zira beamed happily, and took Keiko by the hand. She began to lead her on, around the Promenade.

“I’m glad,” Zira said. “Usually I have to guilt Hajar into coming with me to do anything fun. I was worried you were a workaholic, with how you stay in your lab!”

“I am,” Keiko admitted, “but only because it’s fun.”

Zira hummed and shrugged. “To each their own,” she said. She grinned at Keiko a bit more widely. “But you could always stand to broaden your horizons a little.”

They came to the entrance of the bar. It wasn’t hard to find: The loud noises of laughing, arguing, drinking, and the dabo table all filtered out onto the Promenade. The vibrant, warm colors for the decor made it as a place to relax, and Keiko found herself approving.

“How so?” Keiko asked, as Zira led her in. They moved aside for a big Brunyg, who nodded politely as he went on by. “It’s not like I have a shortage of entertainment.”

The bar proper was crowded: Dozens of species, Federation and non, were drinking, eating, laughing, and talking at the bar. The Ferengi wait staff bustled everywhere, like scurry rodents in an ever changing maze of tables and patrons. Beautiful Bajoran women tended the dabo tables in shiny, revealing outfits, cheering on the gamblers. The smells of alien cooking and alcohol mixed together into a strange, pungent cloud-Not unpleasant, but ever present.

“Yes, but vids, holosuites, tinkering-It’s all of a specific genre,” Zira said, raising her eyebrows lavisciously. She turned to embrace Keiko and brought her face close to hers, staring into her eyes. Keiko blushed hard.

“After all,” Zira murmured, “you never know what might happen in a holosuite with our dear new flight lead, hm?”

“Er,” Keiko managed, her blush glowing hotter. She shook her head, too rapidly she thought. “We-We’re just friends. Really.”

“Keiko! Zira!”

Andross’ voice broke through the clatter of Quark’s. Keiko looked over Zira’s shoulder: He was beaming and waving at her from a table, where Suref, Ro’ad, Mychol, and Hajar had gathered. Keiko smiled back and waved. Zira turned and waved as well, also smiling.

“You know, I don’t just emit pheromones,” Zira whispered as they headed for the table. “I also smell them. And right now you smell pretty interested… And I don’t mean in me.”

“Maybe I’m tempted to experiment,” Keiko retorted quickly. Zira stopped their progress, and leaned in, her face getting close to Keiko’s. The Japanese woman’s face turned a brighter red as their noses touched, and their lips were getting closer… Closer…

“Ah! Stop!” Keiko sputtered, pulling away. Zira laughed, and patted Keiko on the shoulder.

“Never play gay chicken with an Orion, sweetie,” she teased, smiling warmly. Keiko huffed, and glared at the table of pilots. They were all trying very hard not to stare, save for Mychol, who was a much darker blue than usual.

“I am the best!” Zira announced, holding up her hands in victory poses. Keiko collected herself, glaring a bit at the cocky Orion. Zira just smiled back, and took a seat in Suref’s lap. The Vulcan blinked.

“Excuse me Flight Officer, I do not think this is appropriate-”

“You’re very warm, Suref, so I’m fine where I am,” Zira replied, shifting a bit to get comfortable. Ro’ad hooted a bit, and Hajar sighed. It was impossible not to notice she was trying to hide her smile though. This also left the seat next to Andross empty. Keiko noticed this easily, as did Andross. He smiled at her, and gestured to the chair.

“Come on, let’s get some drinks!” He said. “You never know when a crisis might erupt and we all get pulled away.”

“Ah,” said a deep, male voice that made Keiko jump, “that is all too familiar.”

Keiko spun around and smiled brightly. The tall, black man in civilian clothes smiled back, his white teeth gleaming.

“Commander Sisko!” Keiko said happily, reaching out to hug the tall man. He returned it, big burly arms wrapping her up in a warm hug. He laughed, patting her on the back. He pulled back, looking her over with some confusion in his eyes.

“Last I heard you were back at Utopia Planitia,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“Ah,” Keiko began, her eyes sliding to the left. Sisko’s gaze became stony.

“Keiko,” he said, disapprovingly. Keiko took a deep breath.

“Maybe it’s something to discuss in private,” she admitted. Sisko glanced over her shoulder, and slowly nodded.

“It would be good to catch up,” he said. Keiko turned around and smiled apologetically: Her gaze focused mostly on Andross, who looked confused. Zira raised an eyebrow speculatively.

“Commander Sisko and I are old friends,” she explained. “We’re just going to catch up-Real fast, be right back!” She turned, and at Sisko’s open hand gesture, she headed for the stairs to go up to the second level of the bar. Sisko followed, stopping only when she stopped at a small table overlooking the bar. She turned and sat down, clasping her hands together. Sisko sat down across from her, his expression grave.

“Well?” He asked. Keiko winced, looking at her hands.

“I… Might have lost my temper with the new project manager,” she admitted quietly. Sisko raised his eyebrows.

“In what way?” He asked. Keiko rubbed her hands together, suddenly feeling chilly.

“In the… I punched him in the nose sort of way?” She admitted. Sisko sighed heavily, and it made Keiko wince to hear that sound.

“Keiko-”

“He was going to shut down the Defiant project and scrap it!” Keiko said defensively. “I tried arguing with him, endlessly! I really did! The project was already practically mothballed but we were still developing so much from it! Then he… He…”

“He?” Sisko prompted. Keiko looked down at her hands. She rubbed them together again.

“He… Mentioned World War 3, and… Asked if I was looking forward to repeating it,” she murmured, quiet but angry. She glared up at Sisko. “You can’t tell me he didn’t have it coming!”

“No. He did,” Sisko said gently, “but not from you. You report that to his superior, you don’t just lash out.” Sisko sighed. “What happened then?”

“Admiral Jin was in charge of the overall management. She agreed to keep it running in low preparation, given everything we’ve done but… Well, I had to leave,” Keiko admitted. “And so, here I am.”

Sisko sighed and shook his head slowly. “Keiko…”

Keiko’s eyes narrowed. Yes, he was disappointed in her but damnit…!

“I can’t believe these idiots keep getting positions of power!” Keiko hissed. “Over and over again they shove a bunch of holier than thou hippies into military projects!” She looked intensely at Sisko. “How many-How many more people have to die before these morons understand there are forces in the universe that you can’t just make speeches at to stop them?!”

“I know, Keiko,” Sisko growled low in his voice. “I know.”

Keiko pulled back, biting her lower lip. After all… She knew full well what had brought Sisko onto the Defiant project.

“The trouble is,” Sisko said, a bit more tightly but not as harsh as before, “you can’t just change everyone immediately. You’re up against almost a century of people who started to see Starfleet as a social club: A means of moving up in the world, not the organization responsible for defending the Federation and keeping it safe and free. Even the Borg aren’t powerful enough to make that shift in the organization happen immediately.” He leaned forward over the table. “More than that, we don’t just fight: We also explore, do humanitarian aid, make first contact-”

“I know, I know!” Keiko insisted. “I would never say we have to stop doing that! The militaries of my time did that too… The good ones, anyway,” she admitted. “But if we aren’t able to do the job of protecting everyone, then what’s the use of the rest of those missions?”

“‘We sleep soundly in our beds because rough men stand ready in the night to visit violence on those who would do us harm’, I know,” Sisko agreed, “but losing your temper and taking it out on these people doesn’t help. All it does is relegate you to where you can’t help anymore, all because you couldn’t control yourself!”

Keiko glared back angrily at Sisko. Sisko returned the glare, steely and unbending. Keiko sighed, and closed her eyes tightly.

“... You’re right,” she admitted quietly. “You’re right.” She looked down. “It’s just… I can’t escape seeing… All that death.”

“I know,” Sisko said, reaching out to squeeze her hand tightly. “I know.”

“I know you do,” she said softly, squeezing his hand back. Sisko took a deep breath and sighed.

“You haven’t failed, Keiko,” he insisted. “The things we worked on the Defiant-Ablative armor, the power distribution systems, the shields, the engines, the quantum torpedo-They’re all being introduced into the next generation of starships. You’ve done so much already, Keiko, despite everything that was thrown in our way. So why toss it away now?”

Keiko was silent for a while. Her eyes locked onto her hands, intertwined with Sisko’s. She took a long, deep breath, and let it out. Only then did she speak.

“Because the tech isn’t the problem, Ben,” Keiko admitted. “It’s the people. And I don’t know how to fix them.”

Sisko nodded, squeezing Keiko’s hand back. He rested his other hand over hers, making her look up at him. “I know. It’s never been easy for you. It’s not easy for us either though. We all have our own struggles. But you don’t have to face them alone.”

Keiko nodded. Sisko took another breath, centering himself. Then he spoke:

“I’m going away for a week with my son. When I get back, I’ll see what I can do about reassigning you to Deep Space Nine.”

“Ah?” Keiko asked, surprised. Sisko leaned forward a bit, a smile on his lips.

“As it turns out, I feel the tactical acumen of the station has been slipping a bit. And the Cardassians might have some things to teach us-I can’t think of anyone better for the job, and who could work with the Chief. He could certainly use your expertise, and I think you’d get along fine. He’s seen war himself. He’d understand,” Sisko explained. “Working here for a while would help raise your profile, and get you even better assignments down the line. Assignments to help protect the Federation.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” Keiko said. Her eyes turned down to her squadron mates. Zira had slipped an ice cube down Hajar’s uniform, and the human woman had retaliated by producing a recording of the Orion on her PADD: One the green woman was desperately trying to get back from the taunting Hajar. The rest of the squadron was watching in laughter, or in Suref’s case interest. Andross himself laughed and slapped Mychol on the back, trying to get the little Tullian to loosen up. Sisko followed her gaze.

“Unless… You’re happier where you are,” Sisko said, a slight hopeful smile on his face. Keiko flushed a bit.

“They’re… They’re my friends,” she said. She knit her fingers in front of her, trying to regain her composure. Sisko nodded.

“DAD!”

Sisko turned his head. A young black boy in his early teens was grinning as he walked in, wearing a hopelessly ugly jumpsuit under a long jacket-probably one of his father’s. Keiko managed not to wince-Fashion sense in the 24th century was really terrible. She’d heard it was because aliens had different aesthetics than them and adopting those aesthetics had become popular, but she prayed it was only a fad that soon ended.

Jake’s eyes widened as he took in Keiko.

“Oh! Miss Matsunaga!” Jake said, coughing a bit in nervousness. “It’s um, it’s good to see you!”

“Hey Jake,” Keiko said with a wide, genuine smile. She stood up and closed the distance to hug the tall boy. “It’s been forever! Look how big you’ve gotten!”

“Ah, y-yeah,” Jake managed, his voice breaking slightly. He awkwardly hugged her back. “I-I’m gonna hit two meters soon.”

“Good for you!” Keiko said happily, squeezing the boy’s shoulder. He may not have been the little, fun loving boy who had visited his daddy at work anymore, but he was still very sweet. She leaned up a bit to kiss his cheek, making him blush hard. “How’s everything been?”

“It’s been great,” Jake admitted, suddenly standing up straight and trying to make his voice sound deeper. “Um… W-We’re going on a field trip to the Gamma Quadrant… F-For a science project,” he admitted. Keiko grinned.

“That so? What about?” She asked.

“Uh, planetary survey,” Jake managed. “I-I thought of it myself!” Ben stepped in, wrapping an arm around his son’s shoulders. He grinned at Keiko, and patted Jake’s shoulder.

“It’s going to be fun,” he said. “All packed up?”

“Yeah, just waiting for you, Dad,” Jake admitted. “Um, I’ll see you at the runabout then?”

“Definitely,” Sisko said warmly, with a hint of a grin on his face. Jake nodded.

“R-Right… Um… Nice to see you again, Keiko,” Jake managed. “You-You look great! I didn’t tell you before, but you look really great!”

“Thanks Jake, you’re becoming very handsome yourself,” Keiko replied with a smile. Jake nodded, and turned away to begin awkwardly heading way towards the exit. Sisko and Keiko watched him go, and Keiko waved back as the young teenager threw an awkward wave back.

“He didn’t react like that to the dabo girl he dated,” Sisko observed wryly. Keiko smirked, and posed a bit.

“Well, I did work as a gravure girl to pay for college,” she said with a smile and wink. Sisko laughed.

“Just don’t let Jake see any of that, or I’ll never get him out of his room again,” he warned. Keiko chuckled.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” she said. She turned to Sisko and smiled, giving him another hug. “Thanks, Ben.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Now go on. Your friends are waiting.”

Keiko nodded back. The commander turned and headed out through the exit. Keiko watched him go for a time, lost in thought… Which Zira had to interrupt with a tight embrace from behind.

“Aha! Caught you! Making moves on the commander’s son!” Zira grinned. “You about to go ‘ara ara’ at him?”

“Ah?! What?! No! Never!” Keiko cried, struggling away. “How do you even know that any-Did you go through my porn?!”

“Please darling, I go through everyone’s porn!”

- - -

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Everything had been slowed, slowed to nothing. To be so still, to be so slow and alone… Death was supposed to be a release but no, she was still alive. Death wasn’t what she feared. It was being trapped, slowed to nothing and forced to be nothing.

It was all so cold, a big, cold nothing of experience she was aware of but not fully aware of. Nothing made sense. Nothing could be quantified. All there was… Was the cold.

And then it was shattered.

Blood pumping through her veins. Fabrics on her skin. Air in her lungs. Light in her eyes. She began to scream as her senses were overwhelmed, thrashing and kicking furiously as the agony burned through her brain. She felt people grab her, and she struggled harder. Everything was a bright blur as her eyes slowly readjusted to being used.

Then a hiss, and a feeling of chemical drowsiness overtook her. She drifted off, despite fighting it furiously.

She dreamed. Dreamed of the icy cold of space, her tomb lost forever among the stars. She dreamed of family, frozen and silent and staring at her. She dreamed of Dwayne and Renji.

Finally… She woke up.

Keiko slowly opened her eyes, shivering. The lights were dimmer this time, and her eyes had time to adjust. A dull blue and gray ceiling greeted her, light panels embedded in it producing a soft, warm glow.

Keiko’s hands slowly slid out from her body, feeling things as she looked around. She was in a bed-Comfortable but a bit cold. She was wearing a blue hospital gown and nothing underneath. The room itself was plain and sterile save for a few paintings on the walls. There were boxy cabinets on either side of her, with several panels on the bed itself with various things being displayed. A double door was the entrance to the room. She turned her head to look behind her.

Beyond huge windows, she could see a vast expanse of gray regolith, underneath a black starry sky. Keiko awkwardly turned, getting onto all fours, and pressed her hands against the glass.

The moon… She was on the moon…?

Something hissed behind her, and she turned quick, clutching her blankets to her. A thin Filipino woman with her dark hair up in a poofy bouffant was standing in the doors with a smile. She was wearing a strange blue and black jumpsuit with a blue overjacket, and carrying a tray of what looked like food.

“Good morning,” the woman stated cheerfully. “How are you feeling?” She walked right up to Keiko, and set the tray across the bed. Small metallic supports popped up to take hold of the tray, making Keiko edge back even further. “You must be hungry. I brought you breakfast.”

“Wh-What?” Keiko managed. The woman kept smiling, locking her arms behind her back.

“I am sure you have many questions,” she said slowly and calmly. “But you really should eat first. I’m Doctor Melanie Dimaano, by the way. And your name is?”

“M-My name?” Keiko stuttered. Doctor Dimaano kept smiling.

“Yes! Your name?”

“Matsunaga Keiko,” she replied. “Doctor Matsunaga Keiko.”

“Oh!” Dimaano nodded. “You’re a doctor? Interesting! Of what?”

“Engineering,” Keiko responded. She hesitantly sniffed the food. She could feel the heat coming off of it, which immediately relaxed her. She took hold of a spoon and scooped up some of the porridge looking stuff. She brought it up for a taste. It wasn’t terrible, but it was very bland. That said, it was warm so Keiko could forgive it. She dug in, suddenly feeling famished. The doctor stayed at her side, looking at a tablet of some kind.

“Mmph… What’s that?” Keiko asked. Dimaano looked at her, as though remembering Keiko was in the room. She smiled.

“Oh. This is just a PADD. It’s a small computer we use to document things,” she said. She turned the PADD to face Keiko. “See? It’s just a-”

“A touchscreen interface, yes,” Keiko said with a nod. Dimaano raised her eyebrows.

“Oh! You had those in your time then? That’s good. It won’t be so confusing for you,” she said, reaching out to pat Keiko’s palm. Keiko narrowed her eyes, not liking the woman’s tone.

“What do you mean ‘my time?’ How long have I been in cryosleep?” Keiko demanded.

The doctor hummed. “This is usually the hardest part for anyone in your… Situation,” Dimaano stated. “Maybe you should finish your food first before you hear it-”

Keiko glared at her. “Where am I, and what year is it?” She demanded. The doctor sighed.

“Very well. You’re on Luna, Earth’s moon. This is Joseph Kerwin Memorial Hospital. It is Stardate 44002.3. The Earth year 2366.” She stared intently at Keiko. “You’ve been in cryosleep for over three hundred years.”

Keiko was silent for a while. She stared at her porridge. The doctor tensed a bit, concerned. Finally, the woman sighed softly.

“Three hundred thirteen years,” she murmured. The doctor nodded.

“Yes. I’m very sorry. I’m sure this must be a great shock to you.”

“Was… There anyone else?” Keiko asked. Dimaano shook her head.

“No, I’m afraid not,” she said.

“I see,” Keiko murmured, looking down at her hands. Dimaano smiled, and rested a hand on Keiko’s shoulder.

“Now. A lot has changed since you went under. It’s going to be a big adjustment. But I’m sure you’ll make it soon enough.”

“Did… Did we at least win?” Keiko asked. Dimaano blinked.

“Who? Win what?” She asked. Keiko looked intently at Dimaano.

“The war against ECON,” she specified. Dimaano hummed, thinking. Then she smiled.

“Oh! World War III?” She answered, and Keiko immediately tensed. “I can’t say there were any winners in it. After all, both sides destroyed one another. The whole thing was ridiculous.” She reached out and patted Keiko’s palm. Keiko’s hands curled into tight, angry fists.

“I’m sure it must have seemed important at the time, whatever you were fighting over,” she said with that damned smile, “but I’m sure in time, you’ll realize it was ultimately pointless and could have easily been resolved if you’d cared more about peace-”

Which is when Keiko slugged her.

- - -

The next few days, Dimaano didn’t show up. Keiko couldn’t help a certain satisfaction about that. It left her with a lot of nurses and interns who entered her room to give her food, check her vitals, occasionally talk a bit but most importantly? Be bullied into bringing her things.

Like a computer or two and a few PADDs, all of which she immediately put to use accessing the hospital network and learning about this new time she was in.

Faster than light drive. Aliens. Interstellar wars. Exploration. So much to absorb, but the more she learned, the more Keiko wanted to learn more. Her mind had been frozen for three centuries, after all: She needed to get it going again.

At last, around Friday, the doors slid open and Doctor Dimaano appeared with her same smile. She reached up to touch her nose when Keiko glared at her.

“Miss Matsunaga, I hope you don’t mind if we go through a few things with a colleague of mine?” She asked. Keiko’s glare didn’t cease.

“Why don’t you apologize first, and I’ll think about it?” She retorted. Dimaano sighed heavily, like she was dealing with a child. It made Keiko’s hackles rise.

“I am sorry. I should have been aware of how… Sensitive certain topics can be,” the doctor said in a very formal, plastic voice. “It may not have been the… Best approach.”

“I’m so glad you figured that out,” Keiko replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Dimaano nodded.

“Well. Shall we begin?” Dimaano asked. Keiko returned to her PADDs. “Miss Matsunaga?”

“I didn’t say yes, and it’s Doctor Matsunaga,” Keiko shot back. Dimaano sighed again.

“Well! I thought you might be excited to meet your first alien,” she said. She managed to make her smile wider. “Wouldn’t that be interesting?”

Keiko shrugged. “You make it sound like it wouldn’t be.”

A frustrated growl rumbled from outside the door. Dimaano and Keiko both jumped. A large man, a head or two taller than Dimaano, entered the room. His forehead was large and covered in ridges, like the crest of a triceratops. His hair was long and bristly, trapped in a tight ponytail. His fingernails were pointed, as were his teeth. He wore a long, white coat with a number of red symbols on it, over a jet black tunic of some kind.

“Doctor, if you’re done wasting time, perhaps I can get about the business of speaking with the patient?” The large man growled, making Dimaano flinch. Keiko decided she immediately liked the man, especially with how fake Dimaano’s smile was back at him.

“Ah, Keiko, this is Doctor Stord. He is a-”

“Klingon,” Keiko immediately identified. “Member of some kind of exchange program, right?”

Stord hummed with a nod. “Yes,” he replied. “I see you have been catching up.”

“Beats sitting around doing nothing all day,” Keiko replied. The Klingon nodded, and Keiko studied him. “You know, it’s hard to think of you as an alien. I mean, a lot of our popular culture imagined aliens would be humanoid, but that was just because special effects sucked back then. The odds of aliens actually looking anything like us was very low.”

“Hm. We thought much the same way, for a time,” Stord replied. He stepped into the room, past the annoyed Dimaano. He took another few slow steps up to Keiko’s bedside, a PADD held out in his hands. “In our case, we were invaded and conquered by an alien race we later drove off. It left a lasting impression on us.”

“Yeah, I read that too,” Keiko said with a nod. Stord hummed, making a note.

“Indeed? Well. Perhaps we can talk more about Klingon history and culture at another time,” he stated. “For the moment, Doctor Dimaano would like you to answer a few questions.”

“Ah, yes, I would,” Dimaano stated, moving to the other side of Keiko’s bed but keeping her distance. “For instance: What were you doing onboard that ship?”

Keiko took a deep breath. “I was on the Orbital Defense System Project team for the Allies. We built the satellites that were…” She trailed off, but managed to continue. “That were supposed to prevent a nuclear exchange if ECON launched an attack.”

“I see,” Stord rumbled, even as Dimaano winced. “You were found far from the satellites.”

“We were headed to check on deployment of similar satellites to protect the Moon colonies,” Keiko explained, and the Klingon nodded in understanding. “While we were in transit, the ECON nations launched an attack… We just saw the ICBMs launching.”

“According to my research into World War III,” Stord began, flipping through his PADD, “Colonel Green had decided to launch an all out attack after turning a few key personnel throughout the Allied command and control structure. His agents launched a few parasitic satellites with what you would call ‘stealth’ technology to disable your defense network.” Stord eyed her carefully.


Keiko managed a nod. “Yeah… We figured that out pretty soon after the launch started. We tried to disable the satellite that was jacked, and we did but…” She sighed. “After that, something hit us and we couldn’t stay in contact any longer.”

“The logs recovered from the satellites indicate that someone tried to get them back under Allied control for over twenty minutes,” Stord stated. “While under fire. Impressive.”

Keiko shook her head. “I wasn’t good enough,” she stated firmly. “That’s… All it was. In the end, Colonel Green won.” Her eyes narrowed. “And in the end, what did he win? An irradiated hell with constant death and suffering.”

She fixed Dimaano with an angry glare. The doctor shrank back a bit. Keiko glared at the far wall, her fingers gripping one of her PADDs tightly. Her knuckles were pale from the strain.

“I hope they savored it,” she growled.

Stord nodded in understanding. “The Eastern Coalition was monstrous. Even by Klingon standards,” he admitted. “Green acted as a coward. His only satisfaction was a burning world, brought about by his own hands. There is nothing honorable about that.” He reached out and grasped Keiko’s shoulder, making her look up at him.

“However: To fight on as you did marks you as someone of great courage and determination. To not give up after all that, and to try and survive takes strength. No matter how difficult it may seem now, I assure you: You have the strength needed to live in this time. You will only require guidance. And many will be willing to guide one as worthy as you.”

What’s with this guy? He’s talking like someone out of my Japanese animes, her mind pointed out. Yet it didn’t stop her genuine smile.

“Thank you,” Keiko replied. She glanced over at Dimaano, and then back at Stord. “So… Um, what else can I help you with?”

Stord asked more questions, mainly related to Keiko’s expertise. He admitted that several other historians were already very interested in talking to her, but for the moment they were held at bay due to Keiko needing time to recover. Dimaano was mostly just annoyed the entire session. Which suited Keiko fine. She talked about some of her medical issues as well, and Stord patiently went through the tests with her.

Frankly, she was astonished at just how much information the little sensors in the bed were getting out of her. It was like they’d shoved an MRI, X-Ray, Thermal and dozens of other scanners into tiny panels no thicker than a few pieces of paper. Stord himself was not an engineer but he was able to answer a number of her questions about the operation of the devices.

“So, it’s not just increased resolution and processing power, you’re also using some kind of exotic particle field to measure mass displacement?” She asked. Stord nodded.

“Yes. Subspace interface technology has multiple uses. I believe that at one point, you called the missing mass of the universe and the energy that kept it expanding ‘dark matter’?”

“Yeah,” Keiko nodded. “It was really kind of a stand in for something we didn’t understand.”

“Hrm. Well, I am not a physicist but I do believe you were detecting the first signs of subspace,” Stord stated. “It is a multilayered dimensional domain that intrudes on our own level of reality.”

“So because the laws of physics are different through subspace technologies, you can bend them a bit,” Keiko said. She grinned brightly. “That’s… That’s actually amazing!”

“I suppose it is,” Stord said with a nod. His phone beeped, and he checked it. Sure, they called it a “communicator” but it was really just a phone to her. Stord grimaced at whatever he saw on the screen of his device. “I am needed elsewhere,” he said. He looked at Keiko. “If you require anything else, you may ask Doctor Dimaano.”

“Will I see you again?” Keiko asked, a bit shyly. Stord hummed.

“It is usually not a good thing to want to see a doctor more than necessary. But I would be happy to speak to you and help with your recovery more,” he said. Keiko grinned.

“That’s all I ask!”

The Klingon turned and headed out. Dimaano sighed, and finished a few notes on her PADD. Keiko looked over at the doctor, raising her eyebrows.

“You seem happy to see him go,” Keiko observed. Dimaano shook her head rapidly.

“Not at all! It’s an honor to have Doctor Stord as a resident doctor. His expertise is well established,” she said. “I suppose he can just be hard to work with sometimes.”

“I didn’t have any trouble,” Keiko retorted. Dimaano gave her a condescending expression.

“Yes. You’re a weapons designer, and he’s a warrior. There’s a natural synergy there.”

“I thought he was a doctor,” Keiko replied. Dimaano huffed.

“In their hearts, all Klingons are warriors. Even as allies, they keep trying to find excuses to fight. To war.” She looked intently at Keiko. “We’re in a time where we’re supposed to be… Better than that. I guess his race just has a lot more growing up to do.”

Before, Keiko would have just gotten angry at that. Even now, she was angry. But rather than lash out physically, she slowly nodded.

“Oh, I see,” Keiko replied. “I mean, it’s not like the Federation has had to fight to defend itself. Against, let’s see,” she began, checking a PADD, “the Romulans, the Klingons, the Tholians, the Kzinti, the Klingons again, the Gorn, the Klingons yet again, the Romulans again, the Talarians, the Tzenkethi, the Cardassians and these new guys… The Borg?”

“Wha-” Dimaano snatched the PADD out of Keiko’s hands, and looked through it. She stared at Keiko in shock. “How did you get access to these files?! These are restricted!”

“People apparently still use their birthdays for their passwords, even in the 24th century,” Keiko replied breezily. “I’m just saying, for a ‘peaceful, enlightened’ civilization you’ve had a lot of wars.”

“Minor skirmishes ever since the Khitomer Accords, at best,” Dimaano sniffed. She sighed. “I think you’ve been doing too much reading. It’s time to get out and about: It’ll do you good!”

Dimaano went over and pulled out a wheelchair… Minus the wheels. But thanks to the anti-gravity pads on it, it just floated easily. She pushed it back to the bed with that plastic smile again.

“Come on: It’s been a while since you saw the sun anyway!”

Keiko grumbled a bit. She knew the doctor was just trying to get her way and make Keiko do something to assuage her own ego… But she had to admit, she would like to get out. So she stood up, brushing off Dimaano’s attempts to help, and sat down in the chair with the imperiousness of a queen. She gestured to the door.

“By all means,” she stated. Dimaano pushed her along, and Keiko leaned back, her blanket tucked tightly around her. It was still too damn cold.

- - -

The Joseph Kerwin hospital was on the edge of the huge, transparent aluminum dome that protected the New Berlin colony. When Keiko had been to the colony last, it had been a few dozen habitat modules and 3D printed pressurized caves: Now it was a full blown city, with skyscrapers reaching for the dark night sky and aircars going to and fro. The technology was impressive, but the most gratifying sight was the Earth high above. The blue dot, thriving and living again. Even after World War 3 and the horrors that followed, it had recovered. She found herself staring intently at it, a smile on her face.

Dwayne… Renji… I’m so sorry you couldn’t see this.

The garden around the hospital was full of other patients, and had several screens displaying news from around the Federation as well as entertainment. She caught sight of several different species she remembered reading about: Andorians, Bajorans, Bolians, Tellarites, Trill, Nasat, Triexian, and many others she hadn’t read about. Despite Dimaano’s poor first impression, she was already liking the Federation. What she’d seen of it, anyway.

It was at this point though that every screen changed to a single news report: Footage from Wolf 359. Keiko looked at the reports with a frown, as numerous other eyes all turned to watch too. Dimaano shook her head.

“Oh, that. The new guys, as you called them,” Dimaano explained with a huff. “The Borg. They attacked one colony out on the rim and now are trying to come here with one ship! Can you imagine something so ridiculous?”

The grave looks on the reporter’s faces and those of the other people who showed up didn’t seem to reflect Dimaano’s apathy. Keiko shook her head.

“You’ve assembled 40 starships to fight this one ship. It doesn’t look ridiculous to me,” she said. Dimaano shook her head back, and patted Keiko’s shoulder. This made Keiko glare at her.

“Please. I’m a Starfleet officer, and let me tell you: This is just an overreaction and it’s all going to blow over soon. The Federation is enlightened. We just have to teach the Borg what they’re missing, and they’ll learn soon enough.”

It was at this point the Borg cube entered visual range. Keiko studied it intently, as she did the designs of the Federation starships she could see. Most of the Federation ships seemed built for speed as a priority, and long range-Not necessary bad things, but maybe not that tough. Then again, the Borg ship was a gigantic cube, like a brick the size of a mountain-It was hard not to look frail against that.

Out of forty ships… Four of them immediately launched forward in a first wave, while the other vessels hung back and began to encircle the cube. So far, not terrible…

“A vanguard to slow the cube down while the other ships surround it? Not bad,” she allowed. “But why aren’t they firing all weapons? Why aren’t they concentrating their fire on a few single points? Why aren’t they coordinating?”

“It’ll be fine, Keiko, now calm down,” Dimaano tried… Just as the first ship was caught by a Borg tractor beam and torn apart. Her jaw dropped, and a horrified silence began to grow as more and more ships were similarly destroyed.

The Federation ships began to attack in larger groups, raining fire down on the cube from all sides. More smaller groups broke off to engage the cube, as the rest of the fleet bombarded it. The footage was getting confused, as the feed had to keep switching from ship to ship as the cube pressed on. More ships were destroyed. More formations shattered. A small scout vessel, an Oberth if Keiko recalled correctly, tried to ram the cube but was caught and tossed aside like a toy.

The fleet had been reduced in number by half. Fires and impact damage were visible on the cube but the giant kept pushing on even as more fire struck it from all sides. The Federation ships drew back, trying to regroup around a big ship: A Galaxy-class, she believed.

It put up a valiant fight: All phasers and torpedoes firing, maneuvering hard with its companions as it kept trying to find anywhere vulnerable. Yet it wasn’t able to keep its distance. The Borg rammed through another vessel, and another, pushing to get to the flagship.

The feed switched to a civilian vessel. The reporter on the scene looked terrified, sweat dripping down his brow as the crew rushed to and fro in the background.

“The captain is ordering us to retreat. I don’t have access to external comms-Something’s jamming us! I-I can see the admiral’s flagship! The cube has it! They’re tearing it apart! It’s coming apart! I can’t believe it!”

The ship began to shake violently around the reporter. He held on for dear life.

“The cube’s here! It’s caught us! We can’t-!”

The image jerked, janked and dissolved into static before a deep, grating electronic hum filled the air. Keiko gripped the armrests of her wheelchair tightly, as a pale face covered in cybernetics appeared. The face was hard as granite, yet emotionless. Then, it spoke.

“I AM LOCUTUS OF BORG. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE. YOU WILL BE ASSIMILATED. YOUR CULTURE WILL ADAPT TO SERVICE US-”

The screen went black. Keiko looked at Dimaano. The Filipino woman was pale, her mouth trying to work but no sound came.

“What was that you said about Federation enlightenment? I think the Borg learned something else,” she commented, despite the fear she felt.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

- - -


Federation Starbase Deep Space Nine, Bajoran Sector


2370


- - -


Birds chirped overhead as the summer sun shone down on the beautiful glen. Ancient ruins, elegant Roman pillars, grew out of the brush like marble tree trunks. The scent of pine and cedar filled the air with every gentle brush of wind. Keiko kept her eyes closed, enjoying the smells and the feel of the warm sun on her skin.


A gunshot broke the tranquility, and numerous birds screeched and took to the sky. Keiko’s eyes snapped open, and she looked over in slight annoyance at her companion. He was a tall, handsome man with neatly coiffed brown hair, deep blue eyes, and a pointed chin. He was dressed in an elaborate, aristocratic blue uniform, gold buttons shining in the sunlight. He lowered his hunting rifle, a slight smirk on his face.


“That’s not helping,” Keiko said. Trieze Kushrenada shrugged, reaching down to pat a large, panting dog.


“Your silence isn’t helping either. So, I chose to break it,” he stated. He whistled, and his dog trotted off happily into the underbrush to find the bird Trieze had downed. Keiko watched it run off, her arms still crossed under her chest.


“Hunting was banned on Earth for a few years,” she said. Trieze hummed thoughtfully, laying his rifle on a small table nearby. A woman, brown haired, wearing glasses and in a dark red uniform, dutifully began to clean it.


“A strange law. I take it the ban didn’t last very long?” Trieze asked. Keiko shook her head, snorting.


“No. It was ridiculous. So ridiculous human nature couldn’t cope. So they abolished it.”


“Mm. There’s some hope then,” Trieze admitted. “To hunt for meat, to seek sustenance and struggle for it: That’s human. Part of our genes since we were born.”


His dog reappeared, a pheasant held between his gleaming teeth. The dog bounded up to Trieze, and he knelt down to bring the dog closer. He rubbed the dog’s head, and the animal released its prize into his other hand. He took hold of the pheasant and took it up, putting it on the table. With practiced ease, the lady took the bird, and exchanged it for Trieze’s loaded rifle.


“That is the true order of things,” Trieze said, stepping back up to look through the iron sights of the rifle. Keiko snorted.


“And for men to fight one another?”


“Of course,” Trieze said, He sighed. “It can be beautiful, to fight. For a glorious cause, for freedom and salvation. For two people to struggle and push themselves to the limits, showing who they truly are. For peace.”


“You thought it was beautiful, but you hated what happened afterwards. You hated the death, the waste, the destruction,” Keiko argued back. Trieze nodded.


“Yes. As do you.” He lowered the gun and looked back at Keiko intently.


“So why do you study the ways of war, Keiko Matsunaga? Why do you try to improve them?”


“Because war happens when one side is weaker than the other,” Keiko stated. She looked down at her hands, and then out at the trees. “Because without strength, your ideals are useless. They need to be realized in reality and you have to be willing to fight for it. You can't be good unless you have the strength for it."


“Yet,” Trieze spoke again, “strength can lead to conquest. To pointless wars, to demonstrate their strength. The character matters, just as much as the strength.”


Keiko snorted. “Not likely with this bunch-”


“And yet, is this not the fear they feel?” Trieze asked, looking over at Keiko. “They have faced all consuming military force, conquerors and monsters of unfathomable strength. They are reminded of the past. A past so terrible they have done everything they could to erase it and distance themselves from it.”


“The Borg are worse than anything Colonel Green could conjure up,” Keiko argued back, eyes narrowed. “There are worse things out there.”


“It is for this they cling to this mindset. The fear of becoming these monsters,” Trieze explained. “Justified with rhetoric and yet behind it all is fear.”


“So what? What’s the alternative, go extinct?” Keiko demanded. Trieze shook his head.


“You don’t see the battle for what it is,” he said. “And make no mistake: It is a battle.” He aimed his rifle again, having caught a flash of movement in the brush. “A battle for hearts and souls. A battle to be strong… But to not let that strength control you. Whether by pacifism or militarism, arrogance will lead to the same place: Self destruction.”


“I don’t want to turn Starfleet into a bunch jackbooted thugs!” Keiko raged. “Or aristocrats who see war as a meaningless game!” She stood up and tossed aside the chair. She glared death at Trieze. “But this isn’t working either!”


“No,” Trieze said, looking intently at her, utterly unperturbed by her anger. “But you’re not working, either. You’re not fighting the battle the right way, Keiko. You’re fighting your anger while you fight the bigger battle. A war on two fronts, and you’re not fighting either properly.”


Keiko stopped, and sighed. She sat back down, feeling limp.


“So… You think I should take the job on Deep Space Nine,” she said wearily. Trieze shrugged, lowering his rifle.


“It doesn’t matter what I think. What matters is what you think,” he pointed out. “You’re avoiding the battle there, too.”


Keiko was silent, and just watched Trieze as he continued to try and pick out a target in the trees ahead. She rubbed her hands together, feeling cold. Trieze shook his head, and let out a heavy sigh.


“The battle is always there, Keiko. We can deny it and ignore it, but it is always going to be there. Waiting.”


The holosuite doors opened behind her before she could respond. She didn’t react, just listening to the footfalls on the grass. The doors shut slowly.


“Keiko?”


She looked over her shoulder. It was Andross: Looking strange in his standard Starfleet uniform, out of his flight suit. He looked around, and gave Keiko an apologetic look.


“I’m sorry to interrupt-”


“No! No, it’s all right,” Keiko replied. She looked back at the woods. “Come in.”


Andross walked up, his keen eyes analyzing everything he saw.


"What game is this?" He asked.


"Mobile Suit Gundam Wing,” Keiko replied automatically. Andross raised an eyebrow, looking Trieze up and down. He glanced over at Keiko.


"... Are you sure?" He asked. Trieze merely smiled politely and nodded.


“Ah, hello-Lieutenant Gottschalk, I believe?” He asked. Andross blinked.


“Yes, that’s me,” he replied. Trieze nodded, and put his feet together. He stood at attention, and saluted sharply.


“I’ve heard a great deal about you,” Trieze said. “I’m glad Keiko has found a-”


Keiko cleared her throat, loudly. Trieze’s smile grew a bit wider.


“-pilot and friend as good as you,” he said. Andross nodded, and returned the salute just as sharply.


“Thank you?” He asked, still a bit bemused. Trieze bowed, and then walked back to the table to discuss things with the lady in the glasses. Andross watched them go, and looked over at Keiko with a smile.


“I’m impressed. You programmed the characters so well. I… I forgot he wasn’t real.”


Keiko nodded. “Back in the day we had trouble with realistic simulations. We got so much right but there was always something just a little off in people. Facial muscles and the eyes.” She looked up at the sky with a soft sigh. “Maybe… It’s a matter of art, and not science.”


“Maybe,” Andross said with a nod. “Computer, chair.” Another chair appeared, and Andross took hold of it to sit down. They enjoyed the soft sound of bird song. Andross knit his fingers in front of him, thoughtful.


“I heard a rumor from Zira,” he said. “About Commander Sisko offering you a job here.”


“It’s hardly a rumor when she eavesdropped, is it?” Keiko snorted. “You know, I had a cat back on Earth. She didn’t gossip.”


“Must have been nice,” Andross observed. Keiko snorted.


“Yeah… So?”


“So?” Andross echoed. Keiko shook her head.


“It’s a good position. I’ve worked with Ben-Commander Sisko before,” she said. “At Utopia Planitia Yards, after Wolf 359. His reputation might help a lot. Get me where I want to go.”


“Where is that?” Andross asked. Keiko shrugged. She glanced over at him with a sigh.


“Helping to protect the Federation,” she said. Andross smiled.


“I thought you were doing that now. With us,” he said gently. Keiko wanted to smile. She dearly wanted to. It just didn’t come.


“It… Isn’t enough,” she admitted softly. “I feel like I’m not doing enough good. That I’m not fighting hard enough.”


“Nobody fights harder than you in this squadron,” Andross insisted. “Without you we’d all be dead. A dozen times over.”


“I’m fighting for you. But I could be fighting for all of Starfleet,” Keiko said. She shook her head. “Having to put up with endless morons who just… Just can’t understand! Who could be covered in the blood of billions and still keep prattling on about pacifism!” She slapped her knee, hard, a flash of pain joining the rage inside her. “Colonel Green didn’t give a shit about peace, or freedom, or understanding! He wasn’t stupid, he wasn’t ‘unenlightened’! He just wanted power! And more power! Because he wanted it! And he took it!”


She gripped her knees harder, her fingernails digging into her skin.


“Some people… Some beings just don’t care about logic. They don’t care about understanding. They just know they can take what they want, and take it. And don’t care about everything they destroy-Some relish it.”


She looked directly at Andross, biting her lower lip. He looked back, silent. She turned her head back to the forest.


“I saw… I saw a whole world die because of evil bastards who wouldn’t be appeased. Who couldn’t be reasoned with. They just wanted to watch the world burn, and lord over the ashes. That hasn’t changed. It never will change.” She shut her eyes. She felt Andross take her hand, and squeeze it. She squeezed it back.


“... I can’t do that here,” she whispered.


“Why does it have to be you? Why do you have to run?” Asked Andross. Keiko shot a deadly look at Andross.


“I’m not!” She hissed. “I…” She looked back at the woods, blinking away tears. “I’m not running away,” she whispered. “Am I?”


Andross’s arms came around her. He pulled her tight into a hug. She let him, not resisting at all. She sighed softly at his warmth, and leaned into it. He was so warm…


A klaxon blared over the loudspeaker. Yellow lights flashed over them. Keiko and Andross stood up, almost stumbling over each other.


“Yellow alert, yellow alert, all personnel to duty stations. Yellow alert, yellow alert, all personnel to duty stations,” the computer’s stiff voice announced in a dull tone.


“What’s going on?” Keiko asked, looking around.


“Let's find out,” Andross said, squeezing her hand. She squeezed back, before abruptly pulling her hand away. Andross kept his hand out briefly, and then pulled it back. His face was stony.


“Yeah. Let’s go,” he said. Keiko nodded, as Andross headed for the holosuite doors. Keiko spared a last glance at Trieze. The aristocrat smiled, and bowed. Keiko returned the bow.


“Computer, end program,” she said. The field vanished, replaced by a green, mechanical room. She rushed to the entrance, pausing just long enough to pull out a data chip from the computer interface. She slid it into her pocket, and hurried to catch up.


- - -

 

[AndrewJTalon]

- - -


It was amazing how fast things can change in life. One day, the Earth was vibrant and living. Then it was a nuclear wasteland. One day, the only thing Keiko had to worry about was the Borg and the Cardassians.


Now, there was something new. The Dominion. One of their ships had come through the wormhole. A “representative” had beamed right through the shields, walked right through a containment field, and delivered news: They had wiped out the New Bajor colony, destroyed dozens of Federation and other Alpha Quadrant vessels, and captured Commander Sisko. They would not tolerate “further” interference, and had furnished a PADD from the New Bajor colony as proof of their actions. Then, the being (a Jem’Hadar he called himself) beamed out, and his ship flew off-Impervious to the tractor beam they’d thrown at it.


The PADD had been analyzed-It was from New Bajor, all right. Down to the serial number.


Commander Shran had gathered Andross, herself, Suref, Pops and Jin in the Operations center of the station. The rest of the senior staff was gathered too, along with Captain Keogh. He’d arrived with his ship, the USS Odyssey, a big Galaxy-class starship. At the moment, they were working on what they knew, and what they were going to do next. Keogh had taken command, the senior most officer in the room. He had a cool, easy confidence about him. Like a grandfather who knew how to work on a car engine and could still shoot a buck between the eyes.


“I’ve spoken with Starfleet Command,” Captain Keogh said, setting down a PADD. On it were extensive notes he’d been reviewing. “They’ve authorized us to take the USS Odyssey into the Gamma Quadrant, and assess the threat posed by the Dominion.”


“What about Commander Sisko? You’re not going to just leave him in their custody, are you?” Major Kira, the Bajoran second in command, asked intently. Keogh shook his head.


“I have no intention of leaving any of our people in the hands of the Dominion. Not if I can help it.” He looked around. “I’ll be taking a section of 477th with us, too, to screen us.”


“And us, too,” Lieutenant Jadzia Dax insisted. The captain looked around at the senior staff, a frown on his face.


"Are you sure that's wise? With the exception of Major Kira and Mister O'Brien, none of you've had much combat experience."


Andross made to answer, but the doctor of the station, Julian Bashir, interjected.


“We’ve fought the Maquis!” He insisted. Keogh shook his head, his face a kind but hard smile.


“The Maquis have lightly armed shuttlecraft. I expect the Jem’Hadar to have sharper teeth,” he stated. He nodded to Shran. “This is a job best suited for veterans.”


“Veterans or not, you’re going to need all the help you can get,” Dax insisted. Keogh glanced at Shran. The Andorian shook his head.


“Enthusiasm is welcome, but in practical terms,” he began. Keiko found herself speaking.


“Uh, sirs. If I may?”


And suddenly the captain and commander’s eyes were squarely on her.


“Yes, Warrant Officer…?” Keogh prompted.


“Matsunaga,” Shran said. “She’s our engineering expert.” He nodded to her, and she kept going.


“While the fighters are better armed and faster than the runabouts, the runabouts are tougher and have better sensors,” she said. “In addition, Lieutenant Dax’s scientific expertise would let us better analyze the Dominion ships. We need every advantage we can get.”


Dax smiled at the compliment. Keogh hummed thoughtfully.


“You think it’s that dire then, Matsunaga?” Keogh said. Keiko nodded.


“Yes sir. They know how to beam through our shields, move through our forcefields, and throw off our tractor beams,” she stated. “For all we know, they’ve taken apart every ship of ours on that list, and unlocked all our secrets. We cannot afford to take any chances.”


Miles O’Brien interjected. “I’ve been making some custom modifications to the runabouts, sir. Letting them carry a heavier torpedo armament.” He glanced at Pops, the old Tellarite looking interested. “I can apply it to the runabout from Outpost 444, too. In just three hours.”


Captain Keogh nodded. “All right. That’ll give us time to offload non-essential personnel from the Odyssey. Get to work, we leave in three hours. Dismissed!”


The other officers got going. Pops chuckled and shook his broad head.


“Three hours, as he cuts off his own arm,” the old Tellarite huffed. He clapped Miles on the shoulder. “Come on! If I don’t keep you from disfiguring yourself, your wife will never be able to put up with you again.”


“At least there’s one person who can put up with me. One more than you,” he snorted back, answering the Tellarite’s insult properly. Pops laughed and he and the Chief headed off. Shran gathered his pilots together.


“Our fighters are on the way via a transport ship. They’ll be here in one hour. Sort out the weapons loads.”


“Hope they were properly packed,” Jin commented. “Would hate for them to be knocked around like last time.”


“I made sure they’d take good care of them,” Shran stated. “Andross, I’ll need you to coordinate with me and the Odyssey’s tac officer: Let’s see what would be the best strategy.”


“Aye sir,” Andross said with a nod. Captain Keogh cleared his throat, and the fighter pilots looked at him. “Chief Warrant Officer Matsunaga, a word?”


“Ah, yes sir,” Keiko said, resisting the urge to glance back at her squadronmates. She knew what they would see. She walked up to Keogh, who gestured to allow her to head into an adjacent room. She went first, nodding to him, as the door opened on a small conference room. Keiko walked in, Captain Keogh following. The door shut behind them, and Keiko turned and stood at attention.


“Yes sir?” She asked. Keogh smiled.


“At ease, Matsunaga,” he said. “I just wanted to say…”


Keiko’s keen mind began working on numerous possibilities. She’d started the moment the door opened. What was he on about? She’d never met or even heard of the man before. Had she hit one of his relatives? Had she-


“Thank you,” the captain finally said. Keiko blinked.


“Sir?”


Keogh smiled, like an old man proud of his granddaughter.


“The Tac 3.2 update for the Galaxy-class. I believe you were responsible for that?”


“Uh, I worked on it, yes. I wasn’t the only one,” Keiko said modestly. “It was based on new data from the Enterprise-D and their encounters with the Borg, the Romulans-”


“And it saved our hides,” Keogh stated firmly. He walked over to one of the windows, looking out and up. Keiko followed, a bit awkwardly. She followed his gaze up to the form of the Odyssey, shining above, docked to one of the claw-shaped pylons. Keogh smiled fondly at his ship high above, warmth in his eyes.


“We were assigned to deal with rogue Klingons, those still on the side of the Duras after their civil war. Their Chancellor, Gowron himself, personally assured us they had only a few Birds of Prey and an old battlecruiser or two.” Keogh snorted, and Keiko nodded. She grimaced as well: Seemed politicians were just as clueless no matter what species they were.


“And?” Keiko prompted.


“They had a fully operational Vor’cha-class attack cruiser waiting for us,” Keogh said. He chuckled, and looked back at Keiko. “Without that upgrade, we’d have been caught entirely unprepared. I have every confidence in my crew, of course. I’ve tried to make them the best, and I’ve succeeded. We succeeded. But those notes and instructions and suggested tactical maneuvers? That gave us the edge. So,” he nodded with a smile, “thank you.”


“You’re welcome, um, sir,” she replied, feeling a bit awkward. Keogh raised his eyebrows.


“I also heard what you did to Commodore Decker,” he said mildly.


“Um,” Keiko flushed, looking aside. “You did, huh?”


“Took me a while to put a face to the name,” Keogh said. He then grinned. “Glad I did: Funniest damn thing I ever heard.”


“Really?” Keiko asked. She smiled, feeling less worried.


“Commodore Decker is an old fool, still coasting on his family name. The only difference between how he was when he was a smarmy twerp at the academy and now is the number of skirts he chases,” Keogh snorted. Keiko nodded with a smile, a small laugh coming out of her. He returned the smile.


“So I’m glad you’re with us. Competency is something vital, and we need it.” He patted her on the shoulder. “I want you to work with my tactical officer. We’ve only got three hours, so get to work on what we know about the Dominion.”


“Yes sir!” Keiko chirped.


- - -

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Huh. So the Odyssey might survive this one? Or at least, IF they manage to evade that one suicide bugship...

Well...

- - -


The transport ship arrived: A London-class transport, USS Lagos. And after some final consultations with the tactical officer aboard the Odyssey, Keiko was beamed aboard with the rest of the squadron. The cargo bays of the ship were wide, almost completely empty, with their ships safely secured: A welcome surprise given the last time.


They got to work on prepping their fighters, Andross smoothly taking sliding into the cockpit and running the pre-flight check for their own. Keiko made to get in too, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. Zira was there, smiling sunnily up at Andross.


“Just need to borrow Keiko for a moment, be right back,” she said. The pretty Orion led Keiko away, near her fighter. “Keiko, can you double check the sensors on my ship? I don’t want Hajar to yell at me.”


“I guess I can do that,” Keiko replied hurriedly. Zira led her up to a console hastily set up alongside the Peregrine. Keiko ran through the checks on the sensors and other systems, just to be thorough, as Zira leaned in close.


“So… About the job Commander Sisko offered,” Zira began. Keiko rolled her eyes. Of course.


“I haven’t decided yet,” she said stiffly. “And your timing sucks.”


“We’re going into battle, we can’t just put it off,” Zira pointed out. Keiko sighed, running another diagnostic on the tactical systems.


“Maybe,” she admitted. Zira leaned in.


“Keiko, I get that you want to save the Federation. I really do. I admire that about you,” she said, her eyes showing nothing but sincerity. “So I understand the conflict.”


“And?” Keiko asked, glaring at her. “Why do I have to make the decision right now? Why do I have to do anything? I might decide not to, you know!”


Zira nodded. “I know,” she said. “But if it’s twisting you up inside with just the option? Maybe you need to pull back and let it go. At least,” she held up her hands, “for a little bit. Especially since we are about to enter combat.”


Keiko sighed, and slowly nodded. “It’s not my first time,” she reminded the Orion. Zira nodded.


“I know,” she said. “I just don’t want to see you die because you were too wrapped up in yourself.”


Keiko turned to Zira. The Orion woman looked solemn: An unusual sight. Keiko shook her head.


“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” she said, “but let’s try to assume we’re going to live through this. All right?”


“I never assume anything,” Zira said. “Life can be so short, and I just want you to not have any regrets. They’ll haunt you and everyone else after death.”


Keiko sighed softly. She did a final check on all systems. “You’re good to go,” she told Zira. “And… I’ll try.”


Zira beamed, and hugged her. “Good,” she said. She then gave her a quick peck on the lips, making Keiko flush and stutter.


“H-Hey! Don’t get so familiar!” She cried, pulling away. Zira laughed.


“Ah, uptight humans! You’re always so much fun,” she giggled. She headed off, climbing into her fighter behind the annoyed looking Hajar. “Take care out there!” She said with a wave. Keiko returned it, a small smile on her face.


“You too.”


- - -

It didn’t take long after that for their little flotilla to head for the wormhole. Keiko herself had seen footage of it, of course. They all had. To actually go through the swirling, blue and white maelstrom was something else entirely.


“It’s incredible,” she breathed, looking around the vast swirling energies, to the strange event horizon beyond that seemed to ripple like water. “It’s… Nothing like the theories we had.”


“Well, it was built by people a lot smarter than us,” Andross said. Keiko nodded, gazing in wonder around the strange passage.


All too soon, the trip ended and they exited out on the other side of the galaxy. The mighty Odyssey followed after their four fighters, with the runabouts Mekong, Orinoco and Farbanti in tow. The group of ships set course for the system Commander Sisko was supposed to have gone to for his son’s camping trip, and they jumped to warp.


They reached the system in only around 20 minutes, and cruised at impulse towards the inner worlds. Only one planet was habitable, and the trail left by the runabout Rio Grande led right for it, so they followed the path.


It was at this time their sensors went off, and Keiko checked the readings of the intruders against what they’d gotten off the Jem’hadar ship that had come through the wormhole.


“Confirmed: I read three… No, four Jem’hadar vessels,” Keiko reported, the data confirmed along the communications links between all the Federation ships. “Approaching at high impulse speed.”


“Red alert. Shields up. Arm weapons,” Keogh ordered.


“Chevalier Flight, increase speed,” Shran ordered. Andross complied, and soon the four ships were accelerating. The runabouts trailed behind, staying near the Odyssey. “Fan out and stay with your wingmates.”


“Acknowledged,” Andross returned.


The Jem’hadar ships screamed into view, moving fast in a tight formation. By her readings, each of the vessels were about four to five times the mass of their Peregrines at least, but had a much higher power output. That said, the readings were getting more difficult to analyze.


“Chevalier 1 to Orinoco, my sensors are being jammed,” Keiko reported. “What are you seeing?”


“Looks like active ECM. I’m sort through it and-Power spike! Break off! Break off!” Dax shouted. Andross imediately pulled hard to starboard, a barrage of white energy blasts erupting from the Jem’hadar ships. The smallcraft evaded, the Jem’Hadar ships flying like they were one vessel and plowing through their formations. Andross reacted on instinct, flipping around to get behind the ships and chase them. Suref’s Peregrine followed, sticking close. The Mekong wasn’t able to evade fast enough, so opened up with hers phasers at the Jem’hadar ships while trying to dive below them. The Jem’hadar vessels responded with a withering hail of fire, a few shots of which hit the runabout’s engines and sent it spiralling away.


“Mekong! Mekong, do you read?” Shran barked.


“We read! Engines are offline, we’ve got a hull breach in the rear compartment!” Bashir shouted over the comms.


“Farbanti, assist the Mekong and get out of there. We’ve got this,” Keogh ordered, and the Odyssey’s powerful phasers lashed out, her two massive saucer emitters lit up and letting loose two powerful beams. The Jem’hadar shifted in their formation, one vessel breaking and taking the fire. The beams kept punishing the lone attack ship, until they punched through and struck the little ship dead on. It went up into a massive fireball, the debris flying everywhere. Keiko found herself cheering…


Until the other three ships, using the opening presented by their fellow’s sacrificed, opened up with a furious storm of beam weapon fire. The blasts shot right to the hull of the Galaxy-class starship, pummeling the joint of where the engineering hull met the neck of the ship. They kept this fire concentrated, more shots striking across the neck all the way to the stardrive’s impulse drive. A final flurry of shots in the Jem’hadar’s pass struck the port nacelles, gouging out craters in the warp field coils.


The lights of the Odyssey abruptly dimmed, her port warp nacelle flickering like a burnt out lightbulb. The ship’s attitude control began to suffer, as her thrusters fired frantically to right the mighty ship. Keiko’s cheer died, her jaw dropping.


“Odyssey! Odyssey, this is Orinoco! What happened?” Dax’s voice shouted over the comms.


“Their weapons went right through our shields! Some kind of polaron beam!” Keogh reported, the faint sounds of people shouting and the ship rumbling going on in the background. “Main power has been taken out, along with our forward torpedo launcher! Power distribution systems are offline, trying to re-route!”


The Jem’hadar ships swung back around, still with that eerie, incredible precision. Andross accelerated to full impulse, shooting past the Odyssey.


“Hang on Odyssey!” Andross called. “I’ve got you…” He locked phasers and pulled the trigger, orange beams lashing out at the Jem’hadar ships and hitting… Nothing. “What?! Keiko!”


“Engaging,” Suref said, but his fighter’s phasers also hit nothing. The Jem’hadar returned fire, and the fighters broke out of the path of the beams. Once again, they flew by, still tight in their formation. “I have missed.”


Keiko’s fingers flew over the console. She checked the sensors-No, they were working fine except for…


“It’s the active jamming!” Keiko shouted. “They’re actively jamming our targeting sensors when we try to lock on!”


“All ships, close to point blank range and engage the Jem’hadar! Protect the Odyssey!” Shran ordered.


“Orinoco to Odyssey, did you try changing shield frequencies?” Dax asked, her runabout throwing phaser fire at the Jem’hadar fighters from a close orbit around the mighty starship.


“We went through the entire electromagnetic spectrum! No effect at all!” Keogh shouted. “We are diverting shield power to the weapons!”


“We’re picking up the Rio Grande, Captain,” Dax continued. “We’re going to rendeavous!”


“All right! Get the runabout, get Sisko and then let’s get the hell out of here!” Keogh ordered. “Shran, buy us time!”


“Understood!” Shran responded. “Split them up, people!”


Andross, Suref at his side, closed the range with the nearest Jem’hadar ship making another run at the Odyssey. The two fighters opened up, their beams finally making contact with the Jem’hadar vessel and lighting up its shields. It turned, staying in formation and firing its beams backwards. Andross pulled up hard, Suref breaking with him to avoid the shots. Shran’s fighter, along with Hajar’s were attacking from the other side, the same result. It did mean the next pass, only one Jem’hadar fighter was hitting the Odyssey-Raking its beams across its engineering section.


The Odyssey returned fire with a few weak phaser blasts-Pulsing the beams to try and get them functioning with what they could get out of the shield generators. It wasn’t much, but it did force the Jem’hadar to break. One of them streaked for the Mekong, the Farbanti already orbiting it.


“Suref, I’m going to play bait. Get ready with the micro-photons,” Andross ordered.


“Acknowledged,” Suref replied.


Andross pursued this one, firing phasers. The beams lashed out and struck the rear of the scarab-shaped vessel, and it swung about to engage them directly. Andross dove hard, as Suref went high. The Jem’hadar ship dove after Andross, its beam pulsing around them and filling space with deadly energy.


All the while, Keiko’s fingers were furiously working, her mind accelerating. “Suref, throw every micro torpedo you have at the junction between the generators on the back! Quickly!” She shouted.


“Understood,” Suref replied. A moment later, Suref’s fighter dove down on the Jem’hadar vessel like an avenging angel, its microphoton pods launching a rain of death. The shots landed like hail on a roof, the shields of the Jem’hadar fighter lighting up before giving up the ghost. The shields were down.


“Andross!” Keiko shouted. Andross flipped the Peregrine around and launched his own microphotons, pulling the ship down beneath the beams of the fighter. Every shot landed on the unshielded ventral hull of the vessel, puncturing and exploding into the vulnerable hull.


The Jem’hadar ship flew past them, tumbling as internal explosions began to rock and shake it from within. Until ultimately, the vessel exploded. The shockwave rattled the Peregrine’s hull, but Andross kept control as he pushed his impulse engines to full. Andross finally let out the breath he was holding, panting hard.


“Got him!” Andross gasped. Keiko nodded, checking her sensors again. Another communication came through, on the general band.


“Rio Grande to all ships, we’ve got Commander Sisko and everyone else,” O’Brien called. Keogh sounded relieved.


“Understood! Everyone, withdrawal! Back to the wormhole!” Keogh ordered. “We’ve got what we came for!”


Keiko checked on everyone else: Shran’s Jem’hadar attack ships had been forced away from the Odyssey, Shran’s lone fighter pursuing them to keep harassing them with bold attacks. Hajar and Zira’s fighter was back nearer the Odyssey, working with the Orinoco to provide protection for the massive starship as it slowly limped away. The Farbanti was towing the Mekong with its tractor beam, leading the way for the withdrawal.


Abruptly, one of the Jem’hadar fighters broke from the engagement, and screamed at the Odyssey at full impulse. A dark feeling settled into Keiko’s gut.


“Odyssey, incoming Jem’hadar!” She shouted.


“This is Chevalier 4, we’ve got them,” Zira called out over the comms. Her fighter charged at the Jem’hadar ship, firing its phasers, determined to drive them away. Just as before.


The distance closed, smaller, smaller… Keiko gripped her console harder. The Jem’hadar fighter had to break, it was taking damage. Why wasn’t it-?


“Chevalier 4! Break! Break!” Shran ordered. The Peregrine finally pulled away, but too late: The Jem’hadar fighter put on even more speed, and smashed through the fighter, cutting it in half and sending the pieces spinning away into large plasma explosions. Keiko’s gut fell into oblivion, her body going cold.


“Zira! Zira, respond, respond-!”


The horror wasn’t over yet though. The Orinoco fired her own phasers, missing the fast moving purple starship that was already damaged. The Odyssey herself fired another few weak blasts, striking the fighter’s starboard nacelle. Yet its purpose, what it had intended from the start, was fulfilled.


The Jem’hadar ship rammed into the Odyssey’s forward engineering hull, vanishing into a gigantic explosion of heat, light and debris. The starboard nacelle was struck by the largest pieces of the doomed ship, shattering it and causing another explosion as the warp coils buckled and bled plasma. The explosion diminished, just enough to see the raw, burning remains of the forward engineering hull of the Odyssey. All her power systems and transmissions died as power abruptly failed every system. The ship buckled, shuddered, and began to drift. Keiko hit the communications key.


“Odyssey! Odyssey! Please respond! Please-!”


The warp core went up like a nova, and the entire Odyssey exploded into a massive, short lived sun. The flames died in the vacuum, as quickly as they appeared, leaving only the white hot corpse of the once mighty vessel. Keiko ran through her sensors, the shock leaving her disconnected but still functional. Her slim hope evaporated: No lifesigns detected.


None in the debris field of the Odyssey. None in the pieces of Zira and Hajar’s fighter.


Nothing but death.


“... Shran to all ships,” the Andorian commander said, his voice grim. “Set course for the wormhole.”


“Understood,” Andross responded softly. He set course, his fingers stiff. “... Keiko? Keiko?”


Keiko didn’t respond. She found her arms encircling herself tightly as she shivered.


She was so cold right now…


- - -

... No. She didn't survive this time. The Jem'hadar are still fully willing to kamikaze.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

- - -


Federation Starbase Deep Space Nine, Bajoran Sector


2370


- - -


The mission had ended. Commander Sisko had brought back a female alien named Eris. She called herself a Vorta, a prisoner of the Dominion. This was one of those moments where it felt like the Universal Translator had been giving them a warning, the Vorta’s name approximated through the context of her own language. It was a warning given too late though: She was a Dominion Agent and had beamed herself out. The transporter signal had vanished, and they couldn’t find a ship nearby for her to have beamed to. Later examination of Eris’ skin samples had revealed a few things: Namely, she was a clone. A very sophisticated one, judging from the DNA traces.


Between this and the destruction of the Odyssey… Well. A picture was forming of what they were up against. A picture she’d worked on for the last three days.


Keiko was in her guest quarters on the station, packing up and getting ready. Her computer and dozens of PADDs were scattered around her bed and her desk. She occasionally stopped and added a note to one of them, or uploading something new to her computer, or made a design. So many things to do. Never enough time.


The chime on her door rang. She paused, and took a deep breath. She looked up at it.


“Come,” she called. The doors slid open, and Andross stepped in. He looked up at her, solemn.


“Hey,” he said. Keiko nodded slowly.


“Hey,” she said back. Andross walked up and stood at the side of her bed. He looked down at the PADDs and her computer. He looked back up and raised his eyebrows.


“Busy, I see,” he said. Keiko nodded, making a few notes on her PADD. She looked back up, and set it down. She gave him a smile.


“Yeah,” she said. “Getting invited to talk to the heads of Starfleet Command.”


“You didn’t come up with all of this in just three days, did you?” Andross asked, sounding like he believed she really could. The faith he showed in her made her smile and laugh, but she shook her head.


“No. All of this is… Well, it’s stuff I’ve been working on for a while,” she admitted.


“They’re that scared, huh?” He asked. Keiko nodded.


“Yeah. I can’t blame them for it,” she admitted. “Commander Sisko told me to take the gloves off. Because we don’t know what might help against them.” She looked down, letting out a long sigh. She felt his arms go around her, and she tensed… Before leaning in.


“Everything you wanted?” Andross he asked. Keiko shook her face against his chest. She sucked in another deep breath.


“I didn’t want this. Nobody wants this,” she said. “But we have to.” She sighed softly.


“I’ve seen a whole world die before, Andross,” she admitted. “I failed to stop it then. I failed-”


“It wasn’t your fault,” Andross tried. Keiko laughed softly, gripping his uniform tightly.


“They told me that, you know. All the therapists, everyone told me that. And I know it isn’t. I really do.” She pulled back enough to look up at Andross. “That’s not what drives me, Andross. What drives me is that… Someone has to speak for these people. Someone has to speak for Zira and Hajar. Someone has to speak for everyone on the Odyssey. They can’t just have died in vain. It has to mean something. I’ll make it mean something.”


“I see,” Andross said with a nod. He was doing his best to stay stoic, but she could tell he was putting on appearances. She hugged him.


“So, I’m going to go with Commander Sisko and Shran. Back to Starfleet. We’re going to get some things together. We’re going to make some changes.”


“And then?” Andross asked. Keiko looked up at him, with a smile.


“Then we’ll be back. And we’ll make the Dominion sorry they ever tried to mess with us,” she stated. Andross smiled back, happy but with a warrior’s edge. She liked that smile.


“I… I’m glad,” he said. “I mean, Jin’s okay but I couldn’t handle things on my own.”


“You’re admitting it? At last?” Keiko asked. “Are things really that desperate?”


Andross grimaced. “I didn’t mean it like tha-”


“Well I’ll tell you something, Lieutenant Gottschalk,” Keiko said firmly, poking him right in the center of his chest, “you are not going to just butter me up and insult me with a lot of false modesty! Otherwise we’ll stop improving. And that I will never allow.”


Andross slowly nodded. Keiko smiled back.


“This is the part where you kiss me,” she whispered cheekily. Andross raised his eyebrows.


“What makes you think I don’t want to take my time?”


He kissed her nevertheless. He took care to push the computers and PADDs aside, before he pinned her to the bed. They didn’t have much time before Zira and Hajar’s service. They made it on time, holding hands. Everyone shot them knowing looks, but Keiko couldn’t find it in herself to care.


She liked to think Zira would have approved.


- - -

 

[AndrewJTalon]

- - -


Kurill Prime, The Gamma Quadrant



2371


- - -


Part of Suref’s Starfleet tactical training had involved being hit with a phaser set to stun. The blast had knocked him off his feet, as his nervous system had burned like fire racing through his veins. Then everything had become numb from the hit point outwards. Finally, everything had gone black and he’d fallen unconscious. The entire incident had been deeply unpleasant, even for his Vulcan discipline. It was part of his training though, and it was useful to understand how it felt.


So right now, as he slowly awoke from his stun, he kept himself still to analyze his surroundings. Cold medical table he was bound to. Filtered air. The smells of medical equipment, faint but still noticeable. The heat of a light overhead.


“Now now, don’t do that. Your ability to keep your brain activity, heartbeat, and other bodily functions under control is admirable but ultimately futile,” a female voice spoke. Suref slowly opened his eyes.


The surroundings were dull grays and purple, with green lit control consoles. Two meters away from Suref’s interrogation table, a familiar Vorta female was standing in front of him. She smiled gently. Another Vorta female stood at the entrance, looking awkward. Suref looked back to the nearer Vorta.


“Eris, I presume,” he said. Eris smiled, almost seeming pleasant save for the steel in her violet eyes.


“Lieutenant JG Suref of Vulcan. Born in Vulcana Regar. Tactical track officer, original assignment to the USS T’Kumbra. After a first contact with the Chiaran Remnant, you received a letter of reprimand from Captain Solok and reassigned to the 477th Squadron: A severe black mark on your record, I believe.”


“You are attempting to develop a theme for interrogation by attempting to establish a rapport,” Suref stated, sounding as unimpressed as he could. “This is well known in multiple cultures across both of our quadrants.”


Eris continued to smile, shaking her head in mild disappointment. “I had read Vulcans were direct, but to engage the interrogator like this? That’s quite a risk, isn’t it?”


“You are undoubtedly going to do anything you wish to get the information you want out of me. I will not say anything useful.” Suref looked up at the ceiling. “You will have to kill me.”


“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, Suref,” Eris said with a smile. She reached out and caressed Suref’s face, while the Vulcan remained stony and silent. “Your mental abilities are impressive, I’ll grant you. But the Dominion has been around far longer than the Federation. We know far more than you can imagine. We have methods you cannot defeat. Eventually, you will break. And you will tell us everything we want. How painful it will get is up to you.”


Suref felt probes against his mind. He tensed as Eris’s smile grew wider, showing her teeth. The female Vorta assistant pulled back, against the far wall. Eris stepped up, stroking Suref's ears as he began to struggle against his bonds. Even his great strength didn't avail him.


“The people who inhabited this planet were powerful psychics. They built amazing things: This entire city, the orbital elevator above our heads, but it was all for nought: They fell to the Dominion. And so will you. Their psychic abilities are now part of us-Part of me.”


He could see her eyes in his mind, as memories were dragged out from behind his defenses. Suref grit his teeth, feeling agitated as jagged psychic fingers began to dig into his mind. Eris leaned in close, her breath hissing against his ear.


“Why don’t we explore them,” Eris whispered, as his mind screamed.


- - -

 

[AndrewJTalon]

- - -
Orbit of Valo II

2371

Two standard weeks ago...

- - -


Commander Shran and Warrant Officer Matsunaga were not the only officers recalled to Starfleet Command after the Odyssey's destruction. Lieutenant Commander Serkanno too had been recalled, apparently for a special assignment with her people. As a result, overall command of Outpost 444 had fallen to the most experienced officer on base.

Unfortunately, that was himself. Though he scarcely qualified: He had only been an officer for two years longer than Lieutenant Gottschalk. Outpost 444 was meant as a waystation for most officers: Either they improved and went on to other assignments after having their issues resolved, or they left the service entirely.

That said, Suref's case was rather different from most officers. Not that he discussed it unless required to. It had earned him the callsign “Happy”-The contrast of the callsign with his temperament of course meant to be an ironic source of humor. Vulcans did not admit to emotions, but he could at least state honestly that as of late, he was not happy.

His last three months had consisted of filing reports, dealing with issues with the base personnel, and handling transfers and logistics. Nothing too taxing for him, of course. Vulcan discipline was an unappreciated asset when it came to the mundane but critical issues of command management.

That said, even a Vulcan could become... Restless. He would never admit to an emotional thrill about flight, but he did prefer to be flying than behind a desk.

This, Lieutenant Gottschalk seemed to understand instinctively. So when the flight lead had offered to have Suref lead a routine patrol, he had... Not leaped at the chance. But he'd taken to it with far less hesitation that one would expect of him.

And so he and the squadron leader were out in their Peregrines, Ensign Jin in his backseat and Lieutenant Gottschalk and Ensign Yuy and in the other fighter. It was a highly eccentric orbital path, out past Valo III and into the Oort Cloud surrounding the system. They were far apart, just within visual range, as they cruised at high impulse speed.

While Suref would not say it felt “good”, it was more productive to be doing something he was properly trained for rather than suffering the emotional turmoil going on back at the base. The endless expanse of the stars seemed to stretch before them, and all that filled the communications channel was Jin’s occasional updates on their course and speed.

It was out here in the blackness of space that Suref could truly appreciate the power of flight. The true, logical majesty of the universe. The silence.

The HUD lit up as a new contact entered sensor range. Jin was already analyzing it from the backseat, and he projected the new information onto the screens before Suref’s eyes.

“Sir, one contact. Warp signature and transponder identifies her as the SS Argonaut, out of Sol Sector,” Jin reported, sounding a bit bored. Suref studied the warp signature profile, and as usual compared it to the signatures in the database. He ran through the waveform and checked every detail. He raised a single eyebrow.

“Happy to Bran. The Argonaut seems early for their resupply run,” he observed over the comms to Gottschalk. The lieutenant hummed thoughtfully over the link.

“Well, only one surefire way to confirm any ship identity, Happy. Let’s close to visual range,” he suggested.

“Agreed. Change course and accelerate to full impulse,” Suref stated.

“Acknowledged,” Bran replied.

Suref altered course, smoothly accelerating as the other Peregrine followed suit. They headed for the still distant Argonaut, only a blip on their sensor screens now. Still, it was close enough for contact.

“Argonaut, this is Alpha Flight out of Valos II. You have entered sensor range, please confirm,” Bran sent in a clear, standard hail.

There was no response. Suref considered the possibilities, as Jin nervously shook his head behind him.

“Shall we try again, sir?”

The warp signature radically shifted, the smooth curves turning into sharp, jagged hills and valleys. The correlation in the database took a few moments, but he’d seen this warp signature before clearly.

“Jem’hadar Fighters!” Bran called out. The contact immediately changed course and accelerated for them, splitting into two distinct signatures. Suref armed weapons and raised shields as the two contacts closed on them at warp speed. Gottschalk’s fighter did the same.

“Raise the Outpost, we need to warn them,” Suref ordered.

“Already on it-! Outpost 444, we have Jem’hadar fighters! Jem’hadar fighters-!”

The warp signatures changed again… This time, to nothing in the database but certainly closer to the Federation’s spectrum. The two contacts finally entered visual range, and Suref zoomed in on them.

What he saw was not what he expected. Jin breathed in shock behind him.

Two fighter-sized vessels dropped out of warp in front of them, white and black, and shaped like predatory birds. Warp engines burned bright blue and red on their ventral hulls, as small deflectors glowed in air ram ports. They slowed as they got close, and Suref lowered the impulse drive intensity himself. Bran slowed his own fighter too, shadowing him perfectly.

“What… What are those?” He asked. The Tullian received a beep on his console. “Sir! They’re hailing us!”

“Sorry about the scare, Happy,” Commander Shran said, “but Keiko insisted on a test of the Valkyries’ warp masking collars. Seems like they work well.”

“Commander?” Suref questioned. Bran had a different reaction.

“Valkyries?! Keiko?!”

The cheerful Japanese woman’s voice came over the communications link, loud and clear.

“Hey honey, I’m home! And we brought back a little surprise for the Dominion!”

“Several surprises,” Shran added. “They should be along on the Argonaut soon.”

And then yet another surprise made itself known. A visual link was established. Behind the helmet was a cheerful, beaming face he hadn’t seen in ages.

“Like me! Hey Suref!” The woman cried, raising her arm and waving it happily in the confined cockpit of the Valkyrie. Suref could see his commander smirk in the front seat.

He felt his own right third eyelid twitch slightly.

“Lieutenant Chai,” he greeted politely, “it has been some time.”

- - -



Suref found the will to push Eris back from his thoughts, and she pulled her hand away from his temple. She was panting hard, grinning in exhilaration. He could feel her sadistic glee at the scope of her powers. She was thrilled at her accomplishment, practically licking her lips as her chest heaved.

“Yes… Yes, just like I thought. I’ve gained so much.” Eris chuckled, almost sounding inebriated. “What a rush!”

The Vorta woman at the other end of the room was silent, but she did stiffen slightly. Eris ignored her, and again reached up to touch his face. Suref again called upon his Vulcan discipline, his mental shields going up against her probes. Already he felt them straining against the force of her mental powers, the sweat beading on the throbbing veins on his temples.

“Give me more!” Eris demanded. “Give me more or I’ll tear your mind apart!”

“Gnngh… Nngh…!” Suref closed his eyes. One of her probes brute forced their way past his defenses, seeking out thoughts dealing with the fighters, his mission…


- - -
The briefing rooms at Outpost 444 were all still done up in the style of the 2260s. Pastels and stone-like wall panels. It was at odds with the modern screens with LCARs on the walls, and the black conference table itself in front of the rows of chairs the pilots sat in.

Suref himself sat in the first row of seats near the windows, the faint moonlight of Valo II’s companions shining through the transparent aluminum. His fellow pilots were sitting in the other chairs, Andros right next to him while Ro’ad muttered things to Jin behind them. Master Chief Petty Officer Bein “Pops” Heucke stood near the window, leaning against the wall with a wry expression on his porcine face. Ensign Yui was with a number of the other greener pilots, clustered together for protection near the senior officers of the squadron.

It was natural for them to congregate: Numerous other pilots filled the seats on the other side, all new and all brought along by the Argonaut with the new fighters. Some looked quite young, recent graduates of the academy. Others looked more seasoned. A blonde Bajoran woman in operations gold sat at the front, next to a defiant and cocky looking human in command red. He shot Suref a glare when he looked at him, then shifted his gaze back up front. A Bolian woman with white hair (possibly a hybrid) in engineering gold was leaning forward eagerly.

In front of the screen at the table stood Commander Ther'in Shran, Warrant Officer Keiko Matsunaga, and Mora… Lieutenant Mora Chai. The first two were giving the briefing on the new fighters they’d brought along, which he was paying attention to… For the most part.

The way Lieutenant Chai kept staring at him while she sat behind the table also ate up a great deal of his focus.

Keiko tapped a few keys on the table, and a diagram showing the schematics of the Peregrine-class fighter appeared on the screen overhead, as Shran stood to the side.

“The Peregrine-class is essentially a tuned up, more heavily armed courier spacecraft,” Keiko announced, with a slight snort of derision. “This is what the Starfleet Starfighter Corps has had to work with for the past half century, a glorified shuttlecraft. This,” and she switched the view to a diagram of the fighters she and Shran had ridden into the base, “is the Valkyrie. It’s an actual starfighter-The first one Starfleet has built in decades!”

She grinned proudly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Designed, developed and built by me, when I was working on the Defiant Project!”

“Which has also been activated, and assigned to Deep Space Nine,” Shran added. The diagrams switched again, showing off a compact, blunt little starship in comparison to the much smaller Valkyries. “They’re based on the same technology base: Anti-Borg weapons and systems.”

“So Starfleet’s actually taking this seriously,” Pops observed. He smirked and let out a bit of grunt like laughter. “That’s a nice change of pace.”

“And you personally designed these things?” Andros asked Keiko, raising an eyebrow. “Do they turn into giant robots?”

“Sadly, that’s a decade or two out,” Keiko admitted. Andros sighed in exaggerated relief.

“Thank God,” he muttered. Keiko shot him a smirk.

“But I was able to fit almost everything else I wanted into these first production models,” she said with a grin.

“Oh God,” Andros prayed, and the briefing room broke into a great deal of laughter. It was not something Suref joined in, but he could feel the tension that had plagued the base for months dissipating through the action.

Keiko shook her head and moved on, her hands resting on the table.

“The Valkyrie is armed with one forward heavy phaser cannon, two heavy pulse phaser cannons, and internal magazines for twelve photon, quantum, or other torpedoes with additional hardpoints for multiple weapons. Including my micro-photon pods or tricobalt warheads for use against large structures. Or additional phaser or other beam weapons, if you’d like. For defenses? Well, Lieutenants Suref and Gottschalk are of course familiar with the warp signature distortion system. But in addition, the Valkyries have the most sophisticated scanning and jamming sensor system we could get, ablative armor, and metaphasic shields.”

Her glee was accentuated by how her teeth gleamed in her grin.

“Even metaphasic shields? Wow,” Jin spoke out. He shrank back at the looks everyone gave him, and the Tullian cleared his throat, “I mean that I’ve only seen those on advanced science ships.”

“Starfleet finally stopped holding out on us,” Keiko exhaled happily. “And of course, plenty of other new features we’re all going to work out properly!”

Suref could feel Andros tense up a bit next to him. He could understand his friend’s reluctance.

“So, when are we going to take the fight to the Dominion, sir?” Andross asked, standing up straight. Shran shook his head.

“Not yet,” he said. “We have a lot of new ships and faces to break in.” He nodded to the group of new recruits. “We’re going to have a get together after for you to all get to know each other after this. Some of them are freshly minted from the Academy, while others are not.”

His eyes rested on the cocky looking young man up front. The young man smirked back.

“Some are on lighter duties as they recover from certain experiences,” Shran stated. The blonde Bajoran woman tensed a bit. He very deliberately avoided looking over at the Bolian girl.

“And some are here to try and keep them out of trouble,” Shran deadpanned. The Bolian girl grinned brightly, and waved her arms.

“I know when someone’s talking about me!” She cried. She shrank back at Shran’s stony expression. “Ah, sir.”

“And we have a full squadron of untested starfighters to work the kinks out of,” he finished. “Thankfully, we have some time for this. The Defiant is embarking on a mission into the Gamma Quadrant to contact the Founders of the Dominion in the next week. I expect us to be ready for battle by then.”

“To go with them as an escort?” Suref asked. Shran closed his eyes, and held in a long sigh.

“No,” Shran stated. “They will be making their mission solo. They have a cloaking device loaned from the Romulans for this mission.”

That set a lot of tongues wagging. Shran shook his head, and his steely expression silenced the conversations.

“No. Our mission will be to find and support them if their mission does not go well,” he stated.

He looked around at his squadron. He then took hold of the table and bodily lifted it, and tipped it over, letting it smack onto the deck hard enough to make almost everyone jump. Not Suref though. Keiko just pushed back, smiling softly.

Shran took hold of a chair, and sat down on it. He stared at them intently in the eyes as he leaned forward, a hand resting on his knee.

“I want to look you all in the eyes when I talk to you,” Shran declared. This immediately got everyone’s attention. Seeing he had it, he continued.

“I know this isn’t the assignment many of you wanted,” he began, “and I know many of you have had problems in the past.”

Suref retained his stoic exterior. This was a speech he was quite familiar with. It was the same one the commander had made to him when he’d first come to Outpost 444.

“Starfleet isn’t what you thought it was,” Suref continued, “or you’ve been through something that’s shaken your career. Or maybe you’ve just plain screwed up.” He sucked in a breath through his nostrils as his antenna twitched slightly. “I know the feeling. I’ve been there. It’s okay to be angry. It’s okay to be scared.”

Shran was silent for a moment, looking everyone in the eyes, before he resumed.

“We’re facing a threat unlike anything the Federation, the Alpha Quadrant has faced before. A massive empire that is aggressive and imperialistic. Whatever your pasts, your problems, your issues… Work them out. I will do whatever I can for you, but ultimately, you need to figure out how to work with us… Or not. If you do, you’ll be part of the squadron. Nothing further will be said. If you don’t? You can leave. Figure things out yourself. Ultimately, it’s your choice. But if you stay… You fight. Together.” His gaze swept around them a final time.

“We fight. Together.”

He stood up, and he put his hands behind his back.

“Dismissed.”

They rose, and soon headed out of the briefing room in small clumps, still together based on the newcomers and the old timers. Yet even the cocky young blonde man was looking just a bit more serious. Suref caught Chai’s eye, but tried to evade it. He tried to vanish into the crowd of the new recruits… And then a pair of arms seized his left arm, pulling him in like a tractor beam. He turned back to look into the dark, mischievous eyes of Mora Chai.

“Lieutenant,” he greeted, tightly, even for a Vulcan. Mora grinned, and even now, it seemed to make the world disappear.

“You weren’t going to leave me to head to the room unescorted, were you?” She asked sweetly, her long curly hair shaking slightly behind her.

“It is not a formal event,” Suref replied, “no escort is required.”

“Humor me,” Mora said gently, “It’s what you’re good at.”

It had been the same from the day they met…

- - -

Suref grew up in Raal'ston, the capital city of the Raal province on Vulcan. It was a center of trade with its huge spaceport, where his father worked as an engineer. His mother was a nurse at the local hospital. Suref spent his childhood wandering the streets, amazed at the aliens who lived on and visited his world. It was a bustling city, filled with beings of every description from across known space came to trade, work and live in Raal'ston. Even the architecture reflected the incredible diversity: Sleek, efficient Vulcan architecture was alongside boxy and practical Tellarite, organic-looking Terran, outrageous Bolian, and even austere Andorian. All with shopkeepers and owners from dozens of worlds.

One of his favorites was a Tellarite mechanic named Bombur, who went racing hover cars with his father on weekends. He told Suref stories about his time as chief engineer on a mining freighter beyond the frontier. Suref would listen for hours in his shop as Bombur talked about Klingons and Tholians and other hazards out on the frontier. It was truly fascinating to the young Vulcan boy, and his parents encouraged him to expand his mind.

It wasn't all fun though. Suref still remembered the day he met Mora Chai, after all.

He was taking a shortcut from his school to home, across a recreation space. Three older Vulcan boys were tormenting a young, human-looking girl. All of them were cold and cruel in their words, and not loud, but the girl was crying.

Suref walked up boldly, Bombur's stories of being a fearless frontiersbeing in his mind.

"You don't belong on our planet," the tallest Vulcan boy stated, "you're a pollutant. Your people are just whores for Earth."

"Leave her alone," Suref had stated, "you are acting badly!"

The subsequent fight... Well, Suref had lost that quite badly. He was beaten up and left lying on the ground. The boys fled. However, the girl stayed and sat with him, fussing over him.

"I'm sorry," she said, sniffling, her eyes dripping tears. "I'm sorry... Are you all right?"

"No," Suref said honestly.

"That was stupid. Fighting three guys bigger than you. Aren't Vulcans supposed to be smarter than everyone?"

"No," Suref replied, "but it is... The right thing to do."

The girl smiled, and kissed his cheek. It was electric, how the feeling warmed him up despite his bruises. He felt his green blood rise to his cheeks.

"I'm Mora," she said.

"Suref," he replied. Mora helped pull him up to his feet.

"Let me help you home..."

She did help him home. His parents were perturbed and went to the parents of the Vulcan boys. Suref didn't know what they discussed. He simply enjoyed having a friend like Mora. She was funny, and smart, and brave. Her parents were in Starfleet and she was his age. They went to the same school, and walked there and back every day together. Time continued to pass, and he grew closer with her. She wanted to join Starfleet when she grew up, and he could see the appeal.

Despite the fact his telepathic abilities were very, very basic, he could tell Mora's mind was beautiful. Warm, kind, and bright. When they were close, he felt like he could fly across the galaxy. It was illogical, but his mother and father had told him not to be ashamed of his feelings. Merely to control them.

It was the best six months and five days in his life. Or so he had thought.

He came home to see his parents sitting with a vaguely familiar figure: The tall, stern form of his Uncle Solok.

"Father, Mother, Uncle Solok," he had greeted them politely, as typical.

"Son," his father had said, "your Uncle has secured a place for you with a kohlinar master."

Suref looked aghast, for him.

"But-I thought we don't practice kohlinar!"

"Neo-Syrrannites do not," Solok stated, and it was clear his uncle did not approve of the Neo-Syrrannites, or Suref himself, "however, being an apprentice to the kohlinar master Sodon will bring you greater opportunities. Especially if you wish to join Starfleet."

"It is an excellent opportunity, Suref," his mother had said, "but it is your decision."

To join Starfleet? To follow Mora on her dream?

"I will do it," Suref said.

Solok nodded, almost approvingly. He rose and gently rested a hand on his shoulder. His telepathic presence was strong, firm and focused.

"You will achieve great things," he said.

Of course, Suref didn't know this would require being taken away from Mora. He promised he would write her, and she tearfully hugged and kissed him goodbye. He found this very nice, indeed. The fact he was not betrothed, like most Neo-Syrrannite Vulcans, meant that when he became a man he could join with her in marriage.

The training was difficult. His mind was shaped and sharpened, akin to metal being heated and forged. His uncle Solok often visited with Sodon, working their minds against his. His childhood memories were locked away, as he found new ways to use his incredible mind. He learned of the great heritage of the Vulcans. Of the mysteries that could be revealed when all emotions were tightly controlled and buried.

He thought of Mora less and less. He still wrote letters to her, of course. Suref had promised to. But the satisfaction it brought him became less and less. It was simply another task before him.

When he met Mora again, it was at Starfleet Academy. She had grown into a tall, beautiful woman with long, dark hair in curls and a bright smile. Her mind was still as bright and warm as ever... But it met his newly hardened, steel forged defenses. She had been dismayed, at first, yet also impressed. They courted for a time throughout the Academy. He focused on Tactical, she focused on Intelligence. They were together again...

Yet the defenses he had erected had held. Her mind kept trying to break into his, desperate to join with his. He had mind melded with his uncle and Master Sodon, but Mora's chaotic mind seemed to threaten everything he had worked for.

His Vulcan superiority.

It had come to a head at a suitably romantic cafe in San Francisco. The moon had been full. The stars were bright. The food was adequate.

Yet the barriers between them were as strong as ever.

"You're doing all this to try and appease me, when you know what I want," Mora insisted. "Why won't you let me in?"

"I cannot," Suref explained. "It is not what I desire. Your chaotic emotions."

"Then why are we dating in the first place then?" Mora demanded. She glared at him. "What do you think this is, huh? Not very logical to date me if you have nothing in it but a promise!"

"I..." He had paused. His control was shaken. It always was shaken around her. "It is... Preferable to be with you than not."

"But you can't explain why?" Mora growled. "You can't even let me in?"

His uncle's disapproving expression flashed in his mind. He knew how he felt about non-Vulcans. The part of him in his mind knew exactly how Solok felt about this... Dalliance.

"I cannot," he said. "It is too-"

"You're afraid, and you can't even say it," Mora stated, her dark eyes probing his. He was silent, his emotions threatening to boil over.

"This control," he said, "is how we came together. How I am here-"

"What's the point of it if you deny your feelings?!" Mora demanded. "Vulcans share their feelings via touch telepathy! I understand that! So why not with me?!"

"... Because you are not Vulcan," he said quietly, shame rearing itself deep inside him.

Mora stared at him as though he had struck her. She shook her head slowly.

"Being a Vulcan isn't being a bastard," she stated, quiet and angry, "being a Vulcan isn't what made me love you."

She stood up and stalked off, her head held high. She would be crying, but she wouldn't let him see it. He sat at the table, silent, hearing the murmuring of the other patrons around him.

He felt like cold stone. Yet it was for the best, his uncle's presence in his mind reminded him. His future counted on being a proper Vulcan. To be as his uncle wanted him to be.

As he wanted to be.

Didn't he?

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