Captain’s log: stardate 51225.7. The USS Denver and the rest of the 7th Fleet has been ordered to Earth.  There is some rumblings of something going on, but Starfleet will neither confirm nor deny the rumor that a major offensive is in the works.  As it is it looks like our job will be to defend Earth.  I hope it doesn’t come to that.  I for one am happy to see some time away from the front lines. The crew as a whole is war weary and we are looking forward to some shore leave.  For many of us coming home to Earth is a rare opportunity that none of us want to pass up. There is a tendency to romanticize war, but there is no such romance.   The old cliche, ‘war is hell’ has never seemed so apt. 

The gravel driveway snaked its way up a little rise between yellow boulders and green clumps of Rocky Mountain Juniper and piñon pines.  The evidence of a recent spring snow still clung to the shadows of the trees and rock. A soft breeze brought with it the vibrant lively smell of spring.

Rebecca topped the rise and the driveway dipped down into a small hollow to the southwest.  In the bottom of the hollow sat an ancient adobe house built in 1823 over the original 18th century foundation.  Directly south of the house was the log barn built sometime in the latter half of the 1800’s. A black gelding stood at the feeding trough picking through some alfalfa hay.

Rebecca started down the slope her toe kicking gravel and rocks as she navigated the less than ideal terrain.  She paused at the door.  The ancient hunter green door was thick from centuries of paint. What the original wood was anyone’s guess.

She softly rapped the door frame with her knuckles and a dog immediately started to bark in response. A male voice from within admonished the canine for making a scene. A moment later the handle to the door clicked and the frame made a wooden grinding sound as the door was pulled open.

“Hey dad.”

Jonathan Sandoval’s expression snapped to pure delight as he flung the door the rest of the way open and he wrapped his arms around his daughter.  “Look at you!” He said so happy tears were almost in his eyes, “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call? I could have picked you up.”

Rebecca smiled, “We have been ordered to protect Earth, and I wanted to surprise you. Besides I enjoyed the walk.  It’s not often I get to experience real nature.”

“Come in! Come in!” Jonathan said excitedly as he closed the door behind them.  A brindle boxer was there to greet her shaking with excitement and obvious desire to jump on Rebecca and start licking her all over.  Rebecca kneeled before the dog exploded and she was immediately met with an relentless onslaught of puppy kisses.

“Look at you!” Rebecca gushed over the dog as she petted the animal.  “You are such a pretty girl.”

Jonathan stood patiently smiling watching the two get acquainted, “Where’s Milo and the kids?”

“Starbase 75,” Rebecca replied narrowly dodging a tongue that would have went into her mouth. “They’re doing good,” she said anticipating the next question.  “Milo is chief of security and Aimee and Liv are actually able to attend a real school with other kids their age.  Ethan, is taking a more homeschool approach.  He hates school. He just wants to be a cowboy, so his dad compromised that he didn’t have to go to school, but he would have a tutor. He’s doing more school, now than he would otherwise.  At least that’s that’s what his dad thinks.”

Jonathan chuckled, “The grass isn’t always greener.”

“Nope,” Rebecca said finally standing up. The boxer realizing that play time was over, spun and ran off down the hallway and disappeared.  “It usually isn’t.”

Jonathan nodded and wrapped his right arm around her shoulders and the two walked into the kitchen where Rebecca slid onto a bar stood at the center island while her father pulled down two coffee cups.  He filled them both with black coffee for the pot sitting on the counter.  He carried the cups to the island counter and handed Rebecca one. 

Rebecca took a sip of the coffee and a satisfied smile crossed her lips. “Real coffee.  I’ve been rationing my beans so mostly replicated for me.”

“Here,” Jonathan said as he turned and opened the cupboard and pulled a fairly good sized bag of roasted coffee beans.  I’ll make a trip to Columbia or Seattle later this week.  I can’t have my daughter fighting a war on substandard coffee.”

Rebecca smirked and held the bag giving it an inspection, “Thanks.”

“So, how’s the center seat?”

Rebecca shrugged, “It’s a lot to get used to. I didn’t realize how much pressure there was though.”

“You’ll get settled in. Your mom would be proud of you.”

Rebecca lifted the cup to her lips and sipped the coffee. She savored the drink for several moments before swallowing, “I hope so.  It sucks. I know Captain was her goal, and she never… well I made it. That has to count for something right?”

“Damn right!” Jonathan exclaimed. “God I miss her, but you are so much like her.  It’s not just that red hair and pretty little face.  You two walk alike. You comport yourself just like her. Even the way you laugh is just like her.”

Rebecca blushed, “I miss her too dad.  I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately too.”  Sighing she looked out the window.  She had not realized how much she was missing this place until she found herself sitting there.  Who says you can’t come home again, she thought.  This is home, no matter what anyone says.

“How long are you going to be in?” Her father asked.

“Until we are ordered to go someplace else,” Rebecca said with a shrug.

“Is it as bad as the news service is saying it is?”

“Maybe it’s worse,” she replied grimly.  “I don’t know, Tyra was ugly. Really ugly.”

Jonathan frowned, “I heard a lot of ships were lost.  I just don’t understand. Space is so big.”

“It is.”

“Then there should be plenty of space for everyone.  There’s no need for this.”

“The Dominion is a bully, and sometimes the only way to stop a bully is to give them a good beating.”

Jonathan sighed, “I guess.”

“Yeah it’s silly.  Come let’s go for a walk.  I haven’t seen the place in years, and I’m itching to get outside.  And then you can tell me about the Heather I’ve been hearing about.”

Jonathan smiled, “You got yourself a deal.”

Capital City, Terra Alpha – 2420

An Alternate Reality To Our Own

A great battle was being waged. Great buildings burned leaving streamers of black smoke in the sky. Alliance and Jase’dasis fighters duked it out as troops from both sides met on the battlefield below.

In the command center Dominus stood next to his lover Bellitor with a table displaying the progress of the battle. Across from them their generals gave progress reports.

Born Nicholas Ryder, Dominus, was in his eigth decade,  but with genetic manipulation he looked half that age. His concubine and closest confidant, Bellitor had been born Rebecca Sandoval,  and she too had recieved the same genetic manipulation.

“The Scots Highland Regument under the command of General Dougal MacDonald has flanked our right line and our defenses are crumbling,” one of the generals replied.

“We were able to repel the Narlin charge at our center,” another General announced,  but our numbers are thin.  Our clone soldiers were not trained in hand-to-hand and mowed them down.”

Dominus growled in frustration.  They had committed their whole force in this invasion banking they would catch the Alliance unprepared,  and for a time they were successful.   New Kanto was firmly under their control but the Scots put up and unexpected fight in New Scotland.  “Damned the Scots!” Dominus growled.   He hadn’t expected the new Scottish King would have already formed an army, and he thought Inverness and Bauriggon would have been soft targets. Nothing was going as planned.

Dominus pounded his fist against the screen of the table and shattered it.  The action split his knuckles open and breaking a few bones.  Dominus didn’t mind.  He relished the pain. The Generals stepped back fear in their eyes.

“Regroup our troops and have them fall back to the reserve line,” Bellitor said calmly.  “We can support them with our artillery.”

The generals nodded and saluted before practically running out of the command center happy to still be alive. Dominus watched them scurry out with a malicious smirk on his face, “You should have let me make an example out of one of them.”

“And then you wouldn’t have any generals,” Bellitor responded coldly but with logic.

Dominus sighed, “Can we win this?”

Bellitor shook her head,  “No. Our hope was surprise and speed.  The Alliance has the numbers, and now they are mobilized.” Dominus wanted to smash and kill, and Bellitor could see it in his eyes.  “There will be time to get your frustration out, but now we must think of the future.”

The two complimented each other.  Dominus had the ambition and ability to strike fear into his enemies.  Bellitor was no less evil, but her actions were more methodical.  She brought reason and focus to his actions.

“Mistress,” a clone soldier announced,  “We are being hailed by President Ryder.”

“I have a plan,” Bellitor said,  “but it may take some time.  This could buy us time we need. Ian wake our clones,” she said to their son who was standing close by.

“Don’t wake the Empress’ clone,” Dominus added. “I tire of her failure.”

Bellitor glanced over at Dominus and shrugged.  She had never liked his wife, and there was no love lost there,  but this was unexpected.

“On screen,” Dominus said suddenly. 

The viewer switched on and five people stood on the other end of the line. President Nick Ryder stood in the center with Preator Tomarah of the Romulan Republic to his right. Emperor Magus Stormtalon of the Narlin Empire, and President Michelle Ortiz of the New United Federation of Planets stood to his left. Fleet Admiral Angelica Ryder, Commander of all allied forces stood next to Tomarah. 

“Your forces have been routed, your space fleet is in shambles. Surrender,” President Ryder demanded. 

Dominus moved forward, “What are your terms?”

“Unconditional. Your troops and officers will be offered their own planet that will be off limits to all travel.  You and your family will stand trial.”

Dominus made a show of thinking about it.  “I accept, but I will need an hour to get my affairs in order.”

President Ryder looked at the others, and they all reluctantly nodded in agreement. “We accept, but no funny business.  You have one hour and not a second more.”

“You will have your surrender,” Dominus said dryly. “Dominus out.”

The screen winked out as Ian was escorting the cloned versions of themselves into the command center with Empress Julie Lei in tow.  “Dominus what is going on?  What are you up to?”

Dominus smirked, “It’s liquidation time.”

Julie stopped dead in her tracks. She was the only one without a double and that implication was clear. Her eyes were wide, but to her credit she didn’t flinch as Dominus shot her with a phaser and then turned it on the clones, his officers and anyone else in the command center that wasn’t his son or Bellitor.  To the Alliance it would look like he chose suicide over facing the consequences.

“Should I tell our soldiers to stand down?” Ian asked.

Dominus smirked, “Let them fight to the last clone. Kill as many of those Alliance dogs as possible.”

Ian smiled and nodded approvingly.

“Bellitor to Vindicator, three to beam up,” Bellitor said.

ISS Vindicator-

Órlaith stood from the center seat of the battleship she was commanding as Dominus and Bellitor entered the bridge. “Mother, father, Ian,” she greeted.

“Status?” Dominus demanded.

“Station keeping.  The Alliance is unaware of our presence.  Cloak is engaged,” Órlaith replied.

“Power up the Quantum Rift drive,” Bellitor ordered.  “Let’s go back a few years this time.”

“Dominion War?” Dominus asked.

Bellitor nodded, “I agree. The Federation is already weakened, and Angelica Ryder will still be a child at that point.”

Dominus laughed, “I like it. Kill the biggest thorn in my side while still a helpless pup.  Oh I will relish making that as painful as possible.”

Bellitor sighed, “And I guess I’ll go back to work cloning you a new army.”

Riandri materialized into several feet of snow outside a modest log cabin and barn high in the mountains in northern British Columbia, kilometres away from the nearest town. She stumbled as she gained her footing in the snow and took a long deep breath of the cold air that sent a shiver down her spine.

She crossed her arms across her chest pulling her coat tight as she began to walk up to the cabin. A moment later she stepped onto the porch and stomped the snow off her feet before opening the door. Stepping into the cabin the tension she had been carrying for months faded away. 

“It’s nice to be home,” she said aloud as she swung the bag off her back and onto the floor before she kicked off her shoes and walked into the kitchen. Even with modern insulation, the house was cold so given the deep winter outside. She stepped up to the small replicator, “Green tea, hot,” she said before picking up the mug and pulling it close to her chest, smiling as the warmth radiated through her while she made her way to the central fireplace. Kneeling down she quickly built a small fire which soon began to crackle and roar heating up the main room of the house.

She sat back on the large soft sofa that faced the fire and without looking grabbed the heavy knitted fleece blanket that was right where it was meant to be and pulled it around her before taking a long sip of the tea. She stared at the fire for what seemed like hours as she began the process of cataloguing and processing all she had been through for later reflection since the last time she was here over a year ago; just before the borg incursion was detected. 

She was roused from her thoughts when there was a knock at the door. She looked over her shoulder and a faint smile crossed her face when she saw who was there. She stood up, realizing for the first time that the Green Tea had gone cold as she went to the door and opened it. She was greeted by the face of her neighbour, a, now, elderly man named Stephen Menzanie.

Before she could even welcome him in he stepped into the house and gave her a hug, “I thought it had to be you. No one else ever comes up this way.” He said as he released her from the hug and moved past her to the kitchen and began pulling out a couple bowls and a pot.  “As we discussed I have been up and every couple weeks to check on the place,” he rambled as he began to boil some water. “Figure you are hungry, knowing you you got back and didn’t eat so lets get some food into you. Porridge will do the trick.”

Riandri smiled, a familiar routine beginning. “Steve, you don’t need to do this. Check in on me. I am an adult after all and well older than you.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I won’t forget that you know. You are still one of my earliest memories after all. The one constant in my life so of course I do this.” He said as he mixed the oats in. “Now sit, I want to hear all about what you have been doing in star fleet and the war. We hear the fleet is mobilising.”

=Worry=

Riandri paused at that and looked at him and odd feeling creeping over her but she shook it off. She smiled and sat down at the table and began to tell him about what she could of the last year since they had spoken last leaving out the classified details.

He brought over the bowls and set them in from of her and sat down beside her. “Eat up.”

“Thanks,” she said with a smile, hoping it hid the sadness behind it. Whenever she looked at Steve the last few years she couldn’t avoid the thought that one year he may not be here when she came back. “You ok? You seem worried?”

Steve laughter, “Well I think everyone is a bit, there is a war on after all.” He said before eating a spoonful of food. “But with you out there It makes me feel better but I do worry about you.”

Riandri smiled, “That is understandable, but try not to worry about me,” to which Steve smiled.

They ate the rest of their food in silence before Steve stood, “I need to get home, Stacey will wonder why I have been gone so long. You will come by for dinner tonight, yes? Fresh food is better than that replicator.” 

“I will see, not sure how long I will be here sadly but I will try.” A few minutes later she stood on her porch and watched Steve get into his vehicle and drive down the road. She stood there for a few minutes before turning and heading inside. 

All over the Federation monitors switched to a news anchor sitting behind a desk.  He wore a civilian suit and tie, with his black hair slicked back. “We interrupt your regularly scheduled broadcast to report on breaking news from the front line.  FNN reporter Diane Jennings reports from Starbase 375”

The camera switched to a field reporter standing in front of one of many windows looking out from the station.  “Today marks a momentous day for the Federation.  The Second and Fifth Fleets with help from our Klingon allies attacked Dominion forces in the Bajoran sector.   After nearly eight hours of fighting the Dominion fleet protecting Deep Space Nine has been defeated.”

The screen switched to a feed from Deep Space Nine showing Captain Sisko and General Martok stepping foot onto the station to cheers of the Civilians present.  In a voice-over, Diane continued,  “As you can see here Captain Sisko and General Martok have returned to DS9.  FNN has requested comments from the two commanders, but as of right now they have yet to respond.  Admiral Ross here on Starbase 375 said, and quote, ‘Our people fought bravely today. Early reports said that there was a sizable Dominion fleet on the Gamma Quadrant side of the wormhole.  Without their dedication and the help of our allies on Qo’noS this war would have ended today’.”

“Early reports are indicating several key losses including the USS Sitak and Majestic, as well as at least three Klingon Birds of Prey.  Our thoughts and prayers go out to those families that have lost loved ones in this battle. “

“As far as Dominion losses those numbers are still largely unknown,  but an unsubstantiated report suggests that the aliens that live in the Bajoran Wormhole somehow eliminated over two-thousand ships.  While we cannot celebrate such loss of life I believe I can speak for trillions here in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants that we can breathe a sigh of relief that they are no longer a threat.  For FNN, onboard Starbase 375 this is Diane Jennings reporting.”

Rebecca leaned on the corral bars staring west as the sun set over the not-too-distant mountains.  She wore a light jacket to protect herself from the chill of the spring evening.  She inhaled deeply, enjoying the fresh air despite being filled with dust and allergens.  Absently she was thankful she wasn’t susceptible to bouts of hay fever. 

A scuff of boot on gravel drew her attention away from the sunset, and she glanced over her shoulder before returning her gaze to the west.  “How are you doing, Mr. Crawford?  Thank you for coming over.”

Peter Crawford had spent his childhood and young adult years in and around the family ranch in Montana.  He hadn’t been back since his parents had refused to support his application to Starfleet.  They hadn’t spoken to him or reached out or anything.  The problem was, he still loved this life.  It was why he’d built several holodeck programs.  It was why he found his way to Montana or anywhere with a wide open sky and horses to ride.

It was in his blood and would forever flow with him from life to death.  He’d received the call from his CO and grabbed a shuttle down to New Mexico to see what she had in mind.  He knew the ranch by reputation.  Seeing it now, most of that was confirmed.  It was a beautiful place.

It wasn’t Montana, he thought wryly.  “Captain Talon.  Nice place you got here.”  He looked around, “Lots of beauty.”

“Original Spanish land grant,” Rebecca said. At one time, it was 75,000 acres, now, it’s down to a little over 200, but it’s been in the family since Juan Francisco de Sandoval arrived in the middle part of the 1600s. The foundation is marked 1653.”

Peter leaned on the corral, appreciating the history of the place, “What is on your mind, Captain?”  Crawford was straight and to the point.  He didn’t like to dance.

“You had a little bit of a problem with Lieutenant Nixon. He’s no longer on the ship. Lt. Nalam is officially our intelligence officer.”

Crawford snorted, “In all honesty…I think Nixon had a bit of a problem with everyone.  I knew my share of Nixon’s in the academy.  Always managed to find a way to get along with them…mostly.  That man got along with no one – man, woman, child…anybody.”  He slipped out his pipe and slipped it unlit between his lips.  It was one of the few things he’d kept from his family – his grandfather’s hand-crafted pipe.  “How far did you have to take that one?”

“You are probably right,” Rebecca agreed. “He didn’t seem to hold me in a very high regard either.  To that end, I didn’t have to take it too far. We came to a mutual agreement that Denver wasn’t  the best place for him.”

Peter gave her a nod of thanks, “You make a compelling argument as always, Captain.  Nalam seems like she’s a good fit with us.  Lot easier to talk to and look at than Nixon.”

Rebecca glanced at Peter and then rested her chin on her hands, “I didn’t need to know your lasciviousness thoughts, but yes, I do think she is a better fit for the crew.”

Crawford chuckled, “If I was going to pursue such an idea, Captain…you would be the first to know if I was serious in my intentions.”

Rebecca shrugged,  “She’s too old for you, kid, but whatever you do, be smart about it. I don’t need little Peter Crawfords running around the ship.”

Peter smiled quietly, a familiar glint playing across his eyes.  “Your advice is as colorful as it is helpful, Captain.”

“So listen, there’s a reason I brought you down here. I had a conversation with Admiral Dailey about you. We both agree you have a talent for leadership, and we can’t have officers questioning you or resenting you every time I put you in command of an away team.” She reached into her jacket and withdrew a wooden box with a single pip inside.  “Congratulations, Lieutenant.”

His mouth dropped open, shocked.  He was very rarely surprised.  “Uh…”

Rebecca gave him a smile and turned back to her sunset just in time to see the last sliver of the sun dip below the horizon.

His hands accepted the wooden box, holding it gently in both hands, looking at his CO with a mix of wonder and confusion, “Uh…Yea.  Thank you, Captain Talon.  This is…humbling.”  He slowly opened the box, and the glittering pip stared back at him, a warmth filling his heart.  He gave her a look, “Full Lieutenant?  I’m not sure how to feel about that, Captain.”

“Call me Becca,” She said, still looking westward.  “We’re not on duty.” She shrugged,  “Even if this is work-related. You’re welcome; you can consider it a battlefield promotion. You’ve earned it, now don’t make me regret it.”

Peter considered the pip in the box and his captain.  They taught you in the academy that each CO was different in their own way – there’s no real mold for a commanding officer.  There’s the regs, there’s the law, there’s the policies, and all the assorted directives that drove the work of the Federation and Starfleet.  What defined each ship, and eventually, each crew was the one in the center chair.  He slid the box into his pocket, “I accept both the promotion and the charge as you’ve given it…Becca.”

“Good.  I’d hate to have to tell Admiral Dailey that you refused.”

He chuckled as he kicked at the ground, “All I’ve known is the academy, my training, and the Denver.  New habits are easier to kill than old ones, I suppose.”  He looked back at the house, “I smell something really good in the air…I don’t suppose dinner is on the table?”

“Did you just invite yourself to dinner?” She teased. “Dad’s a painter by trade… artist not house,” she amended hastily.  “But if he wanted to, he could have been a chef.  I hope you like spicy.  He definitely lives up to the Latino reputation of using liberal amounts of spice.”

Peter actually cackled a little, “If your nose isn’t running, you ain’t eating the right food, Ca…Becca.  Lead on.  I am up for this challenge.”  They turned and headed back to the house as the dark sky above filled with the shiny stars of a future of possibilities.

“I’m sorry it has been so long, I wanted to come sooner but…well, it is hard…”

Riandri sat on a small wooden bench that was covered in snow as she looked down at her feet. She had grabbed her heavy winter coat and was bundled up against the cold but as she sat there she couldn’t help but feel a deep cold penetrate into her.  As she looked down at her feet a tear rolled down her cheek slowly crystalizing before it fell to the ground, another small chunk of ice to add to the piles of snow and ice around her.

She sat for a few moments in silence as if waiting for a response before continuing. “I think you would be proud of me, I am a Lieutenant now with Starfleet intelligence and I am told I am good at it.” She said her voice quivering slightly. “They came back, last year, but we learned, adapted, they still killed alot of people but the fleet met them and destroyed them.”

She leaned back and looked up at the pale grey winter sky above her, snowflakes slowly drifting down towards her. “I am not sure if it is a good thing or not but I don’t think you wouldn’t recognize Starfleet anymore, it has changed so much. Especially since the Dominion appeared, they are hell-bent on taking over but we are giving them a run for their money, as you liked to say. But unless this changes we will lose; another home lost.” She leaned forward again, her eyes closed as tears welled up as she tried to force them away but gave in and wiped them from her cheeks with her glove.

She looked up slightly towards the small pyramid-shaped memorial alot a small rock outcropping before her shaded by several trees. On its side, the engraved image of her late husband’s face with his birth and date of death looked back at her. There never had been anything to bury after Wolf 359 as the USS Firebrand had been so effectively destroyed so all she had was a couple of his things entombed in the memorial to remind her of yet another person the borg had taken from her.

“You know, I have had this cabin and area for a long time, but now, whenever I come home, well here. All I can remember and think about is you and the life we never had James. Losing you pushed me to Starfleet, pushed me to do things I never thought I would do, lines I wouldn’t cross.” She looked at the stone face and her eyes grew hard. “I won’t let the Borg or Dominion or anyone continue to destroy people’s lives.” As she said that a gust of wind blew through the trees distributing the snow around her before it settled. That all but erased her growing anger and eased her sadness a bit, “If I didn’t know any better O’Connel I would say you agreed with me. I will give them hell.” 

She stood up and stepped towards the memorial and kissed the stone lightly. “I miss you.” With that, she turned and began to walk back the way she had come through the deep snow following her footprints, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks.

USS Denver – Earth Spacedock

Master Chief Robert ‘Jericho’ Jeter stood on the bridge of the USS Denver and looked around at the skeleton crew and repair teams currently on the bridge of the Nebula-class cruiser. Most of the crew were down on Earth or on the massive space station, McKinley Station, which they were currently docked within. The few that remained were either finishing up tasks, part of the station’s engineering team or like himself, saw no point going planetside.

He always enjoyed these stops, when he had the run of the ship and the emptiness of it, not that he minded the crew, mostly. Though there had been that obnoxious shit Nixon. He let out a snort as he thought about what happened and smiled before turning to leave the bridge. Before he made it to the life his combadge chimed, without thinking he tapped it, “Jeter’s.”

“Master Chief, this is Admiral Dailey I was hoping to catch Captain Talon or your intelligence office but I was unable to reach either. Can you pass on some good news for me?” Came the Admiral’s voice, the excitement clearly audible. 

Hacienda de Sandoval, Santa Fe, New Mexico, Earth

Jericho materialised outside the Captian’s ranch and looked around at the open sky, a shiver running down his back. Away missions were one thing but choosing a place with so much sky just wasn’t for him. He stepped up to the door and knocked. He was pretty sure the Captian would be wanting this news right away. 

An older man of Castilian descent answered the door.  His white hair was streaked in black and grey and he sported a bushy goatee just as white as the hair on his head, “What can I do for you young man?”

“Sir,” Jericho said with a nod of his head. “I’m Master Chief Jeter of the USS Denver. I have an urgent message for Captain Talon. Is she her? She didn’t respond to the communication.” 

“She isn’t answering because she has damned little time away with family,” Jonathan responded.

“Dad,it’s okay,” Rebecca said coming to the door.  “I don’t need a bouncer.”

Jonathan turned to his daughter, nodded, and went inside squeezing her shoulder,  “He’d probably beat the snot out of me in my old age, but if he’s bothering you just say the word and I’ll toss him out on his ear.”

“Dad! Go drink some coffee.  I’m a big girl.  Besides I outrank him.  I can order him to pound sand.”

Jonathan shot Jeter one last dirty look before disappearing. 

“Sorry about that Master Chief.   I had left Starfleet and it was someone very much like you who showed up with orders to the Denver. Ever since he’s been suspicious of uniforms.”

Jericho smiled a knowing smile, he had been sent with orders like that before, though the thought of leaving Starfleet was something he couldn’t wrap his head around. “Ma’am, sorry to bother you when you are on leave but Admiral Dailey called when with news and I thought you would want to know.” He paused for a moment, “The Dominion is in retreat, the second and fifth fleets along with the Klingons have retaken DS9 and stored the Dominion reinforcements. Still waiting on the full details from Captain Sisko but the wormhole aliens appear to have stepped in. He didn’t provide details on losses but I suspect they were heavy.”

Rebecca took the information in, “Come in Rob. We got coffee ready.”

“Appreciate that,” he said and stepped in. “It’s never too late for coffee, the real stuff I trust?” He asked with a smile on his face.

“Of course,” Rebecca said with feigned offense. 

She lead him to the kitchen where her father sat at the table reading the news from a PADD.  Rebecca made the coffee how Jeter liked it and handed it to him before pouring her own without any additives. “Has McKinley Station got us in for repairs yet?

He took a long inhale of the coffee, enjoying the smell before taking a small sip. “Yes, they got us in last night and their repair teams have been swarming over the ship. Most of the crew are either planet side or on the station so the teams have little to get in their way. The last update I had, 3 hours ago, was that they expect to complete the needed repairs and upgrades in the next 72 hours but, and I quote, ‘We could take another week or two just to get her right as rain.’” At that, he made a face showing how little he liked that idea, “Figure I can push them to speed things up so we can be back out there soon if needed.”

Rebecca considered for a moment taking time to savor the coffee, “We have a problem.   I don’t trust the Dominion,  and according to Prol, Gul Gozec has a bee in his bonnet over us.  This is a golden opportunity for them to counter attack us either here on earth of someplace like Vulcan.   We will need to be able to leave at a moment’s notice.”

He took another sip of his coffee and nodded in agreement, “They have been hurt and put on the back foot for sure. An attack like that would make sense. From what I could gather before coming down the Fleet is expecting something like that.” Jeter’s paused for a moment and took a deep breath as he looked around the kitchen and took a longer sip of the coffee. “The initial reports showed them pulling back on all fronts to Cardassian space but I do not believe for a moment they will stay bottled up there.” He mused for a moment before continuing, “We should push them on this now, there is a risk but we have been playing on the defence for too long.”

Rebecca drummed the counter in thought trying considering her options. If what Jeter said was true and Dominion forces had all fallen back to Cardassia there was no threat. If not… “Should we cancel shore leave?”

Robert shrugged slightly, “I think we are ok to keep them on shore leave, and in all honesty they need it. They have held together well but the last few months have really strained the crew. Cracks weren’t showing yet but you could sense where some were starting to form. If the fleet needs us ready they will tell us. Admiral Dailey didn’t give any indication that they expected an immediate attack on Sol or elsewhere where we could make a difference.” Pausing for a moment he took a final sip of his coffee and smiled as he put it down, “Good coffee…I am heading back up shortly and I will run through all the systems with the crew still on board, if shit does it the fans here the Denver will be as ready as they can be. We can get everyone back up pretty quick, well most anyways.”

“Understood.  You would know the crew better than anyone,  I will heed your advice.   With that being said, Doctor Kyo is taking an extended sabbatical.  Starfleet will be assigning us a new Doctor and it would be nice if there was someone on the senior staff present to greet him or her.”

Robert nodded, “Not a problem ma’am. I can go and make sure things are sorted for their arirval now and get the Denver ready for emergency action. Best to be prepared for the worst.”

Robert left the house with a sinking feeling. In his experience when things started to look up in war was the time the universe like to throw a curve ball. He looked back at the Captain’s house thoughtfully before tapping his combadge, “Denver, one to beam up.”

Earth Orbit, ISS Vindicator–

Earth was busy location.  Ships of every conceivable configuration darted around.  Some were recognizable to Bellitor but none as sophisticated as her own Odyssey-class warship. 

“There is no indication we have been detected,” Órlaith announced from the operations station. 

Dominus stood from the center seat adorned more like a throne than a command chair. “We will crush them under the heel of my boots.”

“Not right now you won’t,” Bellitor stated. “Angel Ryder carries augment DNA in her veins.  She will be the key to our victory.   You can be enthusiastic of the future but, be mindful of getting the cart before the horse.  Acting too soon will only lead to our defeat… again.”

Dominus looked at his lover and clinched his jaw in frustration.   He hated it when women were right,  and she was very much right.  At least he respected Bellitor unlike the rest of the gender.

Bellitor smiled as if reading his thoughts,  “Take your frustrations out on the slaves. I’ll take care of things here.”

Dominus smirked.  Bellitor was a woman who understood him and respected him for who he was. They truly were partners in every sense of the word and they complimented each other perfectly.

“Rome wasn’t built in a day.  For now we get the Ryder wench and then we establish a new base for which we build our new empire.”

“But not elsewhere?” Dominus asked still unsure about the plan.

“No, we rot the Federation from within,” Bellitor said with a malicious grin.  And when we do you will be primed to take over.”

Dominus was laughing as he was heading for the turbolift.  He knew just the slave he would torture to get his frustrations out on. That smug former first officer of the Sitak.  He would take great pleasure in making him beg for death, but deny it.

The cockpit was bathed in the light refracting off of the blue orb that was Earth, or tera’ to the Klingons aboard the IKS Yihoh- a once Bird of Prey, now little more than a scavenging vessel – reeling from one of its many defeats at the hands of the brutalistic Dominion. Even so, this ship was one with a pride of place and history to be certain, one any Klingon would be proud to serve upon, but for one aboard it was not a place of pride or joy, but one of shame – and one of redemption. Standing upon the bridge, arms behind his back was Qel’vek, son of Kla’vek of the Fallen house of Krull – upon his shoulder sat a ferocious looking Kronosian Falcon – standing skittishly aboard the almost stonelike form of the Chief Medical Officer of the Yihoh. As the starlight and sunlight combined in this reflection, Qel’vek took a brief look over all of the belongings that he intended to take with him – his sash, his father’s Bat’leth strapped around his back, and at his hip lay his Mek’leth that sat not all too far from his datapad which held within much of the scientific and medical knowledge that he had learned in the many battlefields that he had both worked and fought.

Soon enough however, the true destination was revealed – not the blue marble of Earth, but the vast shipyards that orbited it. As he pondered, he was broken out of it by the other members of the crew- who began to sing loudly…

“Qoy qeylIs puqloD. Qoy puqbe’pu’.yoHbogh matlhbogh je SuvwI’Say’moHchu’ may’ ‘Iw. maSuv manong ‘ej maHoHchu’. nI’be’ yInmaj ‘ach wovqu’.batlh maHeghbej ‘ej yo’ qIjDaq vavpu’ma’ DImuv.pa’ reH maSuvtaHqu’. mamevQo’. maSuvtaH. Ma’ov.”

—“Hear! Sons of Kahless. Hear! Daughters too! The blood of battle washes clean…The Warrior brave and true! We fight, we love, and then we kill. Our lives burn short and bright, Then we die with honor and join our fathers in the Black Fleet where we battle forever, battling on through the Eternal fight.” —As the crew sang, the looked to him and shouted with vigor, this would be their last goodbye. Though in the early days, he was shunned on many respects, both for his choice in profession and the belief that it made him into some sort of weakling for wishing to save the dying instead of letting them join the Black Fleets to join with Kahless… Krull did not take these insults lightly and backed his profession with violence – sending many of his critics to the very infirmary which they disdained. – and for the history of his House as traitors to the Emperor; he had however earned the crew’s respect time and time again, both for saving their very lives, and for his skill as a warrior.

The Bird of Prey, through subspace communication hailed Earth Station McKinely, addressing themselves as the Captain of the vessel began “Qap’la!” he stated, slamming his fist to his chest and thudding the ground with vigour, the human on the other side of the monitor nodding in return and standing at some level of attention “By Order of Martok, and request of Federation, you will take this Warrior- and Healer..” he said, with some hesitation. One of the Klingon subordinates shifted through a series of documentations and qualifications – eventually the message being passed on back to the McKinely.

“I see, this message will be passed onto the Captain of the Denver, the ship docked here; the majority of the crew are on shoreleave at the moment, but I will pass the message on to both the current Chief Medical Officer and the Captain of the Vessel.”

“Denver…” Krull muttered, walking up to the screen “Who is this vessel named after? Which great hero?” he asked, the Captain of the Yihoh looking just as interested in this.“…I think it’s just a name” stated the technician with a little fear

“Nothing is just a name.” Krull corrected, shaking his head. The hail promptly ended after they received the greenlight to beam across.

The Captain said no words to him as he made his leave, merely gripping him on the shoulders and looking intensely into his one good eye, Krull returned the gaze -before gripping his Captain that he had served faithful for many years on the shoulders hard. They then brought their heads back and cracked the ridges against eachother forcefully- a resounding crack. And at that, he stepped aboard the teleport pad, and slammed his fist against his chest- his falcon screeching in victory.

“Qap’la!”

“Qap’la!” the Captain returned.

Though headed away from the frontlines for the first time in a long time, Krull felt a rumble and a flame in his heart that the battlefield would not be so far away. But what excited him more for the moment, was the opportunity that was on Earth, the opportunity to learn.

Riandri had returned to her cabin after visiting her deceased husband’s memorial. When she got in she was surprised to see the computer console was flashing with an urgent message. She made her way over after taking off her snow boots and tossed her heavy coat onto the sofa.

Sitting down she opened the message and blinked. There were two, the first from her old CO in the Signals Intelligence Section office at SFI and the second from the USS Denver’s Master Chief, Robert Jeter’s. 

She opened the one from Jeter’s first in case something was happening on the Denver and found a short message. 

Lieutenant Nalam, I have forwarded an SFI report of current underway activities. I expect you will be interested in this. Admiral Dailey thought you would want it. I will be information the Captain of the information within momentarily.

MCPO Jeter’s

Before she opened the report she checked the message from Commander Sinclair and stopped dead. 

Riandri! The news will be breaking soon. The second and fifth fleets along with the Klingons have retaken DS9. I have attached the preliminary report for you. I know that all ship-based intelligence officers will be getting it in the next 12 hours but since Denver is here I thought I would get it to you now.

Don’t be a stranger. Stop by HQ.

Riandri opened the reports and read through them, excitement rose within her as the full implications of the battle began to play out in her mind. “We might just have a chance now,” she muttered to herself.

She typed out a quick response to both Jeter’s and Sinclair thanking them and promising Sinclair she would stop by HQ and her old posting for a catchup just as she started to think about getting ready for dinner with her neighbours, Stephen and Stacy Menzanie.

She had been looking forward to the dinner and assumed that FNN would pick up the story shortly so maybe she would even be able to talk about it with them. She flicked on the screen to FNN in case the story came on. She then quickly jumped into the shower, savouring the feeling of hot water cascade over her skin and not a sonic showing before getting dressed and applying a little makeup.

As she stepped into her living room intense waves of dizziness washed over her and she collapsed onto the sofa as she slowly fought through the waves which prevented her from standing. It felt like hours passed but after a couple of minutes waves of dizziness subsided and Riandri was left staring at the ceiling, her head pounding. She slowly made her way to her feet and grabbed a tricorder from the draw and scanned herself but after a few seconds, the only thing that came back as abnormal was some vascular dilation of her blood vessels which would explain the headache. Shaking her head she muttered a few curses under her breath before grabbing several painkillers and taking them to dull the already subsiding pain. “Must have been the hot shower and moving too quick,” she thought aloud.

She wasn’t a stranger to headaches especially since her husband died so she brushed it off and grabbed a nice bottle of Chateau Picard Cru Bordeaux, her coat and shoes and stepped out into the early evening.

The rhythmic thump of the warp core at idle was comforting to Marcus.  He never wanted to leave engineering and over the course of his forty years of serving the Empire he had made the Empire’s flagship.  When the Empress had been deposed and fled it was never a question to leave this battleship.  It was his home, and it was one of the most powerful warships in the galaxy…  no matter what reality they found themselves in.

And that was where they found themselves. Crossing from one reality to the next, with the Empress looking to regain that status that had been stolen from her.  It was one reality that they came across a two-bit despot who ruled Earth.  In so many way that reality was the stone age compared to where they had come from, but Bellator had fallen in love with Emperor Dominus and for every bit that he was brutal and cruel he was smart.  Marcus hated to admit it, but he learned fast.

And it was in Dominus’ original reality that they found the artifact in front of them. Nothing remarkable about it. Just a charred hunk of hull with two block letters painted on its grey surface in black. “ZE”.  Not much could be figured out about it, but it wasn’t that chunk of hull that was interesting.  From the wreckage they had been able to salvage the backup computer core.  Most of the data was corrupted.  An anti-matter explosion often did that to computer memory, but Marcus had been successful in reconstructing some of the data.  It appeared that that component belonged to a ship known as the USS Zebulon Pike.

It would seem that the Pike was some sort of a scout ship from an organization known and the United Federation of Planets. This Federation was every bit as powerful as the Terran Empire that he came from, but that was where the similarities ended.  How it hadn’t fallen under its own weakness is anyone’s guess, yet somehow it flourished.

The doors to engineering swished open and Bellitor entered, “Marcus what have you found?”

“Using the wreckage from the Sitek and comparing the quantum signature with that of the Pike… Yes mistress, the two vessels are from the same reality.”

“Excellent work Marcus,” Bellitor responded. “Have you reconstructed any of the logs?”

“It’s a slow process mistress,” he said expecting the worse, though,  Bellitor wasn’t known to fly off the handle.  “Of the recoverable data that logs are the most damaged.  I was able to reconstruct some of the captain’s last log entry, and should have the XO’s by tomorrow… maybe tonight.”

Marcus led Bellitor to a monitor. Entering command the image of a man wearing an odd uniform, even for this reality. The image was grainy and there were plenty of artifacts in the image.  “…. a plan… the down… is that we… sacrifice the …lon Pike to get home… self-destruct…”  The video playback abruptly ended.

“Well,” Bellitor said with a sigh. “That explains it.”

“It does?” Marcus asked confused.

She smiled, “Explains why a ship that seemed so much more advanced than the rest the ships humans had was there. It didn’t belong and I it was an accident that it was in that reality. Now I know we can escape if we have to. Good work Mr. Washington.”

“Thank you mistress.”

As part of the skeleton crew Ensign Aoife McKenzie was filling in as transporter chief in addition to being the ship’s acting Chief Engineer. “The Yihoh is signaling they are ready for transport Master Chief.”

Robert Jeter stood off to the side and scrolled through his PADD examining the record of there new doctor. He wasn’t sure who thought up this exchange programme but he was pretty sure they were not in their right mind. “A Klingon doctor…” he muttered under his breath while he shook his head. Glancing up at Ensign Mackenzie he nodded, energize when ready.”

“Aye, initiating transporter cycle,” Aoife replied as her fingers danced over the console and the red and gold of a Klingon transporter cycle slowly morphed into blue and white as Denver’s transporter took over the rematerillization process.

Krull had his items put into storage aboard a small Klingon transport vessel which had been loaded with a few additional items of importance to his heritage and family, as well as a few other practical implements, though he still kept on him his father’s Bat’leth, his Mek’leth which hung at his side – and upon his shoulder sat his bird. This transport vessel had made its way slowly, though rather directly towards the Denver’s underbelly before the hail had been accepted. The vessel had a few additional items of importance to his heritage, as well as a few practical implements. 

The tall, and one-eyed Klingon warrior stood rigid as he was transported aboard the vessel, his hands behind his back. As he arrived, he looked to Aoife with naught but a short nod, the pyramidlike ridges on his skull being quite defined by the overhead lights. He then looked forth, seeking one of higher rank.

Jeter’s watched Krull in order to gauge his first reaction to arriving on the ship for a moment before stepping forward. “Dr.Qel’vek Krull I presume?” He said with a slight pause. “Welcome to the USS Denver, I am Master Chief Jeters. The Captain sends her apologies but she is current on shore leave. I have been asked to get you settled in.”

Krull looked over Jeter briefly, before taking a deep step forward, and slamming his opposite foot hard upon the ground, and then promptly against his chest “Qap’la!” the Klingon stated – though to a small extent he was disappointed with the lack of formal leadership present, he recognized the importance of a Master Chief. He nodded after that point, his features remaining firm. “I am.” – as he stated this, the bizarre looking alien bird on his shoulder levelled it’s eyeline to that of Jeter, almost as if sizing him up for dinner. 

Jeter’s nodded to Krull, “Good, would hate to have had the wrong person beam over. I was told your personal items are being shipped on a shuttle; it should be here in about 10 minutes.” He said while looking at the falcon on Krull’s shoulder. “Nice bird, I trust it is trained. I would hate to find its dropping everywhere.” 

“It is trained. For hunting. This ‘bird’ is the symbol of my House, and I will not have it be insulted” warned the Klingon with an almost low growl afterwards, his graveled tone hot with a low lying rage.

“Perfect,” Jeter’s said with a strong hint of annoyance in his voice as he rolled his eyes before exhaling deeply. He composed himself before continuing, “Now if you will follow me I can show you to your quarters and have your belongs delivered for you, unless you want to oversee it personally?” Jeter’s turned to Ensign McKenzie, “Would you be able to meet the shuttle? Make sure everything goes off without a hitch?”

Aoife nodded, “I can do that Chief.”

“I do not trust Starfleet to move the belongings of my House with the proper care needed…But, that is why I have taken the most important things with me. I intend to familiarize myself with the science and medical departments posthaste.” he nodded to that firmly, placing a hand on his Mek’leth to rest upon, observing the ship with an interested eye…It was strange to be aboard this vessel as a friend, and not as an enemy.

Jeter’s sighed inwardly, ‘Klingons!!’ he thought to himself with frustration. “Well, it’s your call. I can show you the facilities posthaste or you can unload your gear. either way Ensign McKenzie will be overseeing the unloading and transport from our side.” Jeter’s remarked without looking back at Krull as he stepped out of the transporter room.

“Good. Then I know who’s head I must take if I find anything broken,” he stated, locking his eye with Aoife, even if he was not serious – his face didn’t seem to portray joking.

“Come on Doc,” Aoife said resigned to the situation.   “The Chief Engineer wants the main computer fully recalibrated by the end of the day.” She technically outranked the COB, but as an ensign you generally didn’t brace the Master Chief.  He had the captain’s and XO’s ear, not to mention he was the most senior enlisted on the ship. If you wanted to get anything done you needed the crew for that, and by default you needed the COB to keep things moving smoothly.  Of course it didn’t help she started out as enlisted on this ship, and that respect for the man had been ingrained in her from the first hour she arrived,  and old habits were hard to break.

“jaH!” grunted the Klingon, taking forceful strides towards the medical bay, knocking shoulders with the Master Chief, as if he already knew the layout of the ship; which he infact did, unless there had recently been some major refitting – he was certainly not a foreigner to these sorts of vessels, though his experience was a more…Aggressive one, than what was happening now. 

Aoife looked watched Krull take off, glanced at Jeter and shrugged,  “I’m going back to work. He can figure things out his own.”

Jeter’s nodded towards Aoife his face clearly showing annoyance with the situation, “Let me know if there are any issues with the transport. I will get our new doctor down there shortly.” He watched Aoife turn and leave and smiled slight, ‘One of the few ensigns who actually shows respect; glad she took the commission,.’ he thought to himself before turning to Krull. “I assume you already know the way to the medical bay. Once we get there we can go get your things.” Jeter’s said with a hit of anger after Krull had knocked his shoulder.

Krull, indeed made his way to the medical bay promptly after that, with full intent to understand the Federation’s medical technology to it’s furthest extent, the fact that he had pushed past the Master Chief being one that had not even entered his mind – fresh from life on the brutalist Yihoh – he would soon have to adapt to Federation standards, though that may be a long walk ahead.

Steel drums tapped out a distant tune as waves lapped along the white sand shore.  A soft breeze came in off the Pacific Ocean tugging at the ends of Rebecca’s loose red hair. She wore a light crimson floral print wrap over a simple black one-piece bathing suit.

 “Gracias señor,” she said to the bartender as he slid a very fruity cocktail made from the outer husk of a pineapple garnished with a cherry and a silly little paper umbrella. She took a sip of her drink and smiled at Cheon. “Are you sure you don’t want one?” She asked looking at her first officer through her dark sunglasses. 

Cheon smiled at Rebecca as he looked at her. He shook his head, “No, thank you though,” he said as he turned his head to look at his beautiful wife waist-deep in the water.

Even though the Denver had been placed in dry dock and most of the crew had been placed on leave he could not fully relax like everyone else. His eyes constantly scanned their surroundings discreetly. 

Riandri suppressed a yawn as she approached the bar where she saw the Captain and XO; she had been struggling to sleep for the last week or so. She had to admit the weather here was a nice change from her cabin; access to the ocean always made her happy.  She was wearing her hair down over her shoulders, something she would almost never do if she was onboard a ship, and a flowing light pink sundress over her matching bathing suit. Seeing the Captain and XO she couldn’t help but feel a bit of an outsider with this crew after all they had been through; after all, it had been less than a month since she was assigned to the ship. As she reached the bar she began to say “Hi,” but stopped as she blinked suddenly and wavered as a wave of dizziness washed over her yet again. She reached for the bar to steady herself for someone grabbed her arm before she could steady herself and helped to support her balance. 

Riandri looked up and saw the figure of Master Chief Robert Jeter standing beside her holding her arm. “You ok, Lieutenant?” he asked as he helped her to a chair beside the captain’s seat. “Thanks, Master Chief, just didn’t sleep well that’s all,” Riandri responded to which Jeter’s just nodded before turning to the Captain. 

“Captain, Commander.” Jeter’s said with a nod, forgoing the more formal greeting as they were off duty though his uniform suggested otherwise.

“Master Chief,” Rebecca replied with a happy grin.  The war was far from over, but for now, the fighting had stopped and the horrors of the front line seemed like a distant memory.   “This is a beach… a quite famous resort actually and here you are standing there like a stuffed shirt not enjoying paradise. How about a drink? A little alcohol might loosen you up.”

Jeter’s looked around and sighed, “I guess I could…” he responded before opening the top flap of his jacket and calling over to the bartender. “One Dark and Stormy,” he asked before putting a hand on Riandri’s shoulder, “And for you Lieutenant?”

Riandri frowned slightly, the headache slowly going away after the spell. “So many choices…” she said pursing her lips as she thought, “I guess a Tequila Sunrise for me.” She said with a smile. “When in Rome right? Well, Mexico.”

“Should we grab a larger table?” Riandri asked looking out at that patio and the shadows of the palm leaves as they swayed across the tables.

“Yes, let’s do that,” Rebecca said with a smile.  “How are you settling in Lieutenant?”

“Well enough, thank you Captain though I have spent only two and a bit weeks on the Denver everyone has been welcoming,” Riandri said as she stood up and headed to one of the nearby tables. “I look forward to getting to know everyone.”

“Well, it’s kind of why I brought everyone down here,” Rebecca said.  “Not everyone has family here on Earth to see to… or will see,” she said looking in Peter’s direction. 

Crawford raised a glass of hard cider, “Family is relative, pun intended.”  He was keeping his distance from his family’s farm and ranch in Montana.  They hadn’t sent him a message since he’d left for the academy and he had quietly hoped they’d come around eventually.  Those chances died the longer he continued his service to Starfleet.  He went to help Riandri with the tables.

“As my dad says, ‘you can pick your friends.  You can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your family,” Rebecca teased Peter.

Riandri was just sitting down and looking forward to her drink when she heard Rebecca’s comment, “Gross, that isn’t the image I want when I am about to have a drink.” She glanced over at Peter and pushed a chair out next to her, “Grab a seat.”

Peter gave her a side glance, a quiet smile crossing his lips.  He had been honest with Captain Talon regarding his passing comment about Riandri looking better than Nixon – he wasn’t going to try and ask her out on a date or anything.  He was going to indulge his curious nature with her as there was something about her that struck him in a way he hadn’t felt since the academy.  He gave her a nod, “Thank you kindly.”  As he sat he accepted the chilled glass of cider and took a slight sip, the flavors bringing back memories.  “It’s my first time down south.  Lots of travel off-world…but never really wandered much.”

Riandri took a sip of her just after the server delivered it. Looking back at Peter she smiled, “I have a couple times, traveled a bit. I have to say the food, drinks and tropical beachs are great. If you get the chance there is alot to see on Earth.”

Rebecca shrugged and raised her pineapple,  “To the Denver !”

Jeter’s smiled and raised his glass, along with Riandri and they both echoed the statement, “To the Denver!”

Though having spent the first week of his time aboard the Denver in relative isolation to the rest of the shore-leaved crew, Doctor Krull had after that made his way to Earth to meet with his Captain, shore leave or no. He looked up towards the group of relaxing Starfleet…warriors? Employees? Though their relaxation was weakness, he did not at all disapprove of it in this instance; each of them had been through a lot – and feasting was certainly in order. He took a few steps over and raised a glass of…rather silly-looking bright yellow drink with a pointless umbrella which would not even protect its contents from the rain. “May our Blood Scream! To the Denver!” stated the Klingon, no doubt surprising anyone who did not realize he’d arrived.

Crawford nearly jumped out of his skin as the Klingon shouted in his language a toast.  He didn’t stare at the warrior.  He tried not to glare.  He settled on nodding with his cup raised.

Rebecca smirked, “And bring honor to our ship and ancestors!”

Seong placed a hand on Peter, “First time not hearing a Klingon sneaking up on you?” she teased as she let her hand slip from his shoulder as she moved over, and placed a kiss on her husband’s cheek. 

Krull nodded firmly and then slammed his fist against his chest. “Qap’la!” he stated, bringing the drink up to his lips briefly before tasting how sweet it was and feeling a little disgusted, lowering it down again. “I am Qel’vek, son of Kla’vek – of House Krull, Captain. It is…Good. To finally meet my new Captain.” 

Rebecca stood and returned the fist gesture, “Rebecca,  daughter of Jonathan of the house Sandoval, and I welcome the warrior Qel’vek to the Denver.  May you bring honor and glory to your house.”

A bushy eyebrow raised, surprised at her knowledge of his culture, he brought the glass up and drank it down, honoring her culture in turn, at least to him. “And to yours,” he stated, his voice deep, graveled, and yet reverent.

Peter turned in his chair, sipping at his glass, “Peter, son…well, doesn’t matter.  House Crawford.  Welcome to the Denver.  May your journey with us bring what you need and seek.”

“Of course, it matters, Peter of House Crawford. I thank you for your wishes.” noted the Klingon

Jeter’s sat back and watch Krull without expression on his face, ‘Krull be definitely keep things lively onboard,’ he thought to himself as he took a sip of his drink, ‘Hopefully, not too lively…’

***

Burkley shivered as he stood there on the transporter pad, he still couldn’t get used to the subconscious cold that he felt every time he used it. He turned and looked at Aoife and smiled as he leaned down and whispered, “You look, great sweetheart.”

“Sir,” Aoife replied standing before Burkley at parade rest. “I believe the captain is waiting on you.”

“Aoife we’re on leave. If the captain needs me she’ll find me,” he stated as he looked about the resort. “Besides, I didn’t pull you away from the Denver and insist that you wear something comfortable to a resort to have you not relax,” he said with a grin on his mouth. He held out a hand to her. “Shall we?”

“Sir, I don’t know exactly what you are planning,  but I have my suspicions. You are my direct superior,  and I have to work with you in close proximity every day. I don’t think heading down that road is wise. In the future and we are no longer in each other’s direct chain of command we can explore something.”

Burkley stood there in shock but he could not deny her logic in the matter. “I guess you are right,” he stated as he lowered his hand. “If you need McKenzie I’m but a call away.”

With that, he slipped away and disappeared into the thick of people that moved about the area.

“Warning. Antimatter injector failure.”

The cool, vaguely feminine voice of the Runabout’s Computer interrupted the silent reverie of Lieutenant Araan Ragez. the Orion Science Officer placed his feet back onto the deck (as they had been comfortably propped up on the copilot’s seat) and looked at the flight operators panel. His trip from Corvan II had thus far been uneventful, bordering on tedious; perhaps this little glitch was just what was needed to spark his neurons into firing again.

“Computer,” began Ragez, “why have the antimatter injectors failed?”

“Unknown. Routine Level Five diagnostics revealed unspecified issues. Procedure to shut down warp engines was initiated 0.0015 seconds following diagnostic.”

“Thanks…for nothing.”

“Please restate inquiry.”

“Never mind. Cancel inquiry.”

Araan looked again at the Flight Operations panel. Here he was, a lone Starfleet Runabout in the interstellar void, stuck at sublight speeds. Literally years away from the nearest Starfleet outpost. This was not turning out to be his day.

“Display diagnostic results,” said Ragez. Within microseconds, his state board was flooded with data. Numbers, so many of them…most of them he understood, even if only in the peripheral sense. The computer’s analysis, as usual, was spot on; the diagnostic revealed absolutely nothing of value. Results listed as inconclusive. “What are my options, Computer?”

“Please restate inquiry.”

”There has to be a reason for the failure of the antimatter injectors. And yet the diagnostics are only reading an unspecified malfunction.”

”Affirmative.”

The Orion drummed his fingers on the arm of the cockpit chair. As long as the diagnostic board read a problem in the injectors, said injectors would remain shut down. There was only one way to get around that, but it was risky; and until he had more information, it was a risk Araan was unwilling to take. 

“Computer, when was this runabout’s last software update?”

”<i>Runabout Congo received a software update seven hours before departing the orbital complex at Corvan II.</I>”

”And did that include updates to diagnostic protocols?”

”<i>Affirmative.</i>”

Checkmate. There was the problem, just as plain as the smirk on his face. The Dominion had been stepping up its digital and computer warfare game as of late…it was precisely the reason that Araan’s small team had gone to Corvan in the first place. Starfleet had noted that world’s defensive grid was aging, and used computer Systems that could be considered vulnerable. The Computer Science team had seen to those badly needed upgrades to protect one of the Federation’s key dilithium suppliers. Two other Starfleet facilities had been infiltrated by Dominion-designed malicious programs that masqueraded as standard diagnostic updates; resetting the systems had been fairly straightforward. 

“Computer, suspend all routine diagnostics.”

”<i>Procedure is not recommended.</i>”

”Override. Authorization code Ragez five six delta victor.”

”<i>Diagnostic Override confirmed. All systems back online.</i>”

”Resume course for the Denver. Warp factor five.”