Rebecca resisted the urge to yawn.  The auditorium was huge, and the captains and intelligence officers who were all stationed near Earth were all present. At just a rough estimate there were probably four-hundred ships represented here. 

The auditorium was dark and warm.  The soft glow of the massive view screen just added to the sleepy ambience. The speaker… some Admiral who had introduced himself at the beginning, and whose name had since been forgotten was droning on.  The worst part about the whole damned exercise was she couldn’t talk to anyone about what was being said… except maybe Riandri and she was right there next to her.  Just listen and know. 

Intelligence briefings are the absolute worst, Rebecca thought.   She lifted her coffee cup, and thank God they allowed that. Otherwise, she would have long ago been snoring, and Admirals hate that when you do.

Riandri sat back listening intently as the Andorian Admiral, Ishriss Ch’shraalrerh, gave a detailed update on the current tactical situation and the nextly established frontline as well as the estimates of the Dominion’s strength. 

As Riandri listened and catalogued everything she heard for review later she glanced over at Captain Talon. She could see that the woman wished she was elsewhere. She couldn’t blame her either, intelligence briefings were not for everyone. Riandri smirked as leaned over to her, “How are you finding it, Captain? I think there are a few offensive options that are available though we will see if the fleet tagged then.”

“Huh?” Rebecca looked up from her coffee. “Offensive?”

Riandri hid the smirk that threatened to spread across her face. “Yeah, there are several possible options but who knows,” she said with a shrug. Turning to face the Captian she smiled, “Lost in thought?”

Rebecca hid her expression behind the coffee.   For a moment she considered lying,  but she expected honesty from her officers and she should have the respect to give it back. Sighing she glanced over at Riandri,  “Not exactly. Admiral Ambien is putting me asleep here ”

Riandri didn’t even try to hide the wicked grin that spread across her face. “These aren’t for everyone she said but can be helpful.” She glanced at her PADD and the time. “Should only be another 30 minutes,” she said with a pause before continuing, “Want to grab some food and a drink after?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Rebecca said with a grin.

602 Club, Mill Valley, CA-

The ancient bar and grill had been a favorite watering hole of Starfleet pilots for years. The walls were decorated with all sorts of memorabilia including original shuttle mission patches and Chorchan’s original design sketches. 

Rock music played softly in the background as Rebecca and Riandri sat around a table. Rebecca had ditched the black and grey officer’s jacket opting for the less formal and more comfortable captain’s waistcoat.   She had even opened the top of the red turtle neck of her undershirt.

“I am so glad to be done with all those meetings.  I was almost longing for a fight with the Dominion,” Rebecca said as she scooped up a could of French fires and took a bite.

“Yeah, I get that” Riandri said as she leaned back in the chair and looked around. “The worst part is it has been, what, 5 months since the fighting actually started? No matter how we look at it this conflict is only going to get worse. Either they push us or we push them.” A sad look crossed her face. “Space is big enough for everyone. There are whole parsecs that are uninhabited, rich in resources and yet we fight. Such a loss.” 

Riandri looked at the fries and grabbed a few, they hit the spot but she wasn’t sure if she wanted more food or if it was just a habit of having some when she came to this place or the others like it when she was based at HQ. Thinking a change of subject was needed she shifted in her seat slightly and rested an elbow on the table and her chin in her hand, “Nice being home?”

Rebecca shrugged,  “Yeah.  This is the longest I’ve been stationed in the Sol System since the Academy.  Got caught up with family,  saw some old friends… speaking of which…” Her voice trailed off.   She was looking at the entrance and a man and a woman had just entered.

The man was Tony Ryder, little brother of Nick Ryder.  She had dated Tony briefly during her Freshman year.  The woman, was Doctor Tess Ryder, the matriarch of the Ryder clan.

Spotting Rebecca they made their way to her table.  After awkward greetings and introductions, the pair were sitting across from Rebecca and Riandri.   “Becca, look, we didn’t look you up to reminisce on the old days,” Tony started looking at his mother.

“Angel has been kidnapped, ” Tess said simply.  “Right out of my house in Milwaukee. Nick is out on maneuvers and can’t help,  and Julie is doing something with Starfleet Intelligence and we don’t even know where she is.  We need your help.”

Rebecca glanced at Riandri, “Not entirely sure what I can do, but the Denver is at your disposal.”

Riandri was at a loss for words for a moment, “Sorry, did you say kidnapped?” After all her time on Earth, these sorts of things had all but vanished with the exception of some crimes of passion. She glanced at the Captain and could clearly see the concern on her face. “What does the local law enforcement agency have on it so far? If you get me what you can I can run it through SFI. I still have friends at HQ.”

“The local authorities were mostly useless,” Tess replied.  “They assume she ran away.  I know Angel, she wouldn’t run away. She’s sixteen where would she go?”

“Could Julie have taken her?” Rebecca asked.   She had never liked Nick’s wife, their mutual dislike had started since their first meeting at the Academy. Rebecca turned to Riandri,  “Check with SFI and see if you can locate Julie Ryder,  but do it discreetly.  Julie has always tried to groom those girls to be like her.  Maybe she took it too far this time. Trinity is staying with Milo on Starbase 75 while we’re stationed in the Sol System.  I’ll check on her and warn Milo something… weird is going on.”

Riandri nodded, “Will do it now. I was asked to swing by anyways so can have a chat with some people off the record.” She turned to look at Tess, “Can you send me everything the local authorities had as well as an image of Angel? Never know what may or may not come in handy. Here is my comm ID.”  She stood and turned to face the captain, “With you leave ma’am?”

As if anticipating the request Tess handed Riandri everything they knew including Angel’s last known location.

“Of course,” Rebecca said nodding to her intelligence officer.  “I’ll grab Pete and head to Milwaukee. I’ll see if I can find anything there.”

“Thank you,” Riandri said with a nod to both Tess and the captain and turned to leave. As she walked out of the door she tapped her combadge; “Sinclair, I am close by, you got time for a catch-up?”

As soon as Riandri left the 602 Club she contacted her old CO. The now Captain Stuart Sinclair has always had a soft spot for her she knew she wouldn’t have to wait long for a response. She headed to the nearest teleport gate and stepped through from Mill Valley to Starfleet Headquarters. A minute after she arrived her combadge beeped and tapped it, “Go for Lieutenant Nalam.”

“Ria!” Captain Sinclair said in his deep baritone voice. “I am glad your messages. I have time now if you are on site.”

“I am sure. Just arrived, I was at the intelligence briefing earlier,” she responded.

“Perfect. Gives us something to talk about. I would like your take on it. Met me in my office in 10 minutes. I need to wrap something up first. Sinclair out.”

Riandri smirked and silently chucked, ‘Always wrapping something up that one, or diving into some new piece of data. Though I guess that comes from spending your entire career in intelligence overseeing signals and sensor data,’ she mused to herself. She had often wondered why Sinclair had never risen to Captain and had even broached the topic once with him. His only remark was it had too much admin and he would miss the work. She could understand that.

Ten minutes later, after wandering through hallways she had spent several years getting familiar with when she was stationed here, she arrived at Captain Sinclair’s office.  She tapped the door panel to announce her arrival.

A few seconds later the door small com panel on the door buzzed and the door opened. She stepped into the large office where the back wall was a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking to gardens that surrounded Starfleet HQ. The right away was covered in monitors showing streams of data and com signals that the Signals Intelligence Section was working on. She glanced over at them recognizing work that she had done for several years and sometimes missed before turning to look at the large, broad-shouldered man behind the desk.

“Ria, how are you doing?” he said as he stood up from the chair and walked over to her giving her a big hug. Riandri smiled and returned the hug before being released and stepping back. “Thought you were watching what you ate?” she said with a smile making her old CO laugh. “Well yeah, but there is this new Vulcan and Andorian fusion restaurant that opened last year. It is too good not to eat!” He responded and gestured to the sofa. “Seat?”

Riandri took a seat and accepted a cup of tea that Sinclair then offered her. As he took a seat he studied her face for a moment and sighed. “I take it this isn’t just a friendly call from that expression of yours?” Riandri shook her head slowly and wondered not for the first time how he was always able to read her so well.

“Not today and I need this to stay between us,” Riandri said with a serious expression to which Sinclair nodded. “I owe you one anyways. What is it?” he responded before gesturing with his hand and the windows darkened. “Room is secure.” 

Riandri pulled out her PADD and slide it across the table. “A friend of my Captain’s kid, grandkid, not sure exactly, but they are missing, kidnapped they think from her house in Milwaukee. The local authorities say she ran away but they are adamant that she wouldn’t. Her father is Captain Nicholas Ryder of the USS Tigris and his wife is Julie Ryder, SFI. Given this and what I have been told a runaway seems unlike.” She paused for a moment while Sinclair picked up the PADD and scrolled through the information Tess had shared with her; information about Angel and the reports from the authorities as well as her concerns.

Without looking up he responded.“Hmm. Ok, I can understand why they would be concerned. Especially given her connections to the Captian of a Sovereign and an SFI officer.” Sinclair took a sip of his tea before looking up. “I assume you want to look into Julie and see if she did something unbecoming of an officer? That is a big ask Ria.” His voice was serious before he sighed. 

“I know but if a kid is in trouble. I had to ask.” Riandri said and Sinclair stared at her, locking eyes. “Ok. But I will have to ask a couple of friends who may be able to track her down,” he said before pausing. “And I can see about having the sensor data from Milwaukee sent through. The global sensor grid has been upgraded significantly so that all cities are covered. Maybe you will find something in it but I cannot make any promises.”

“I appreciate that Sinclair.” She said as she took a sip of her tea and frowned. “Wait. Did you get promoted? To Captain?”

“Took you long enough,” he said. “But yes. Just the other week; not that I care really though now I am Deputy head of Intelligence and oversee both the Signals Intelligence Section and the Sensors Intelligence Section for this sector. It’s why I can get you that data.”

“I do really appreciate it and congratulations,” Riandria said. 

“Don’t mention it,” Sinclair said before finishing his cup. “Really don’t…You always drag me into things, Ria. But I am happy to help though sadly we will have to put off food for now as I have some chits to call in. I will be in touch.”

Rebecca smiled as the image of her husband,  Milo Talon, appeared on the computer screen. “Hey there Cowboy.”

Milo grunted in his manly way, “Hello dear.  How was your day.”

Rebecca paused to think about the events, but quickly dove into a description of the day’s events.  From the first meeting with Admiral Dailey concerning their current orders.  Dailey also wanted a combat readiness report on the Denver, which Rebecca was happy to report that it was ready.  She finished off the telling of her day with the run-in with Tess and Tony Ryder. 

Milo just patiently listened and then sat back with his whiskey and cola.  When his wife had finished speaking he grunted in acknowledgment and leaned forward.   “You thinking Julie is up to something?”

Rebecca shrugged,  “I don’t know anything,  just that it’s possible.”

Milo drummed his fingers on the desk considering things, “Kidnappings just don’t occur, especially on Earth. The simplest explanation is Julie, but I suppose the Dominion could be involved.”

“The Dominion‽” Rebecca exclaimed.  “What on Earth would they have to gain from kidnapping a child?”  They of course have had a history of replacing people with Changelings from General Martok to Doctor Bashir,  but Angelica Ryder was just a kid and extortion didn’t seem like their modus operandi. 

Milo grunted in agreement,  “Yeah,  that seems unlikely.”

“So that leaves us with Julie.”

“Yeah..” Milo said with a reluctant sigh.  “But call it an old policeman’s intuition but I don’t think Julie Lei-Ryder has anything to do with this either.”

Rebecca sighed, “And Trinity?”

“She’s here, but I will keep a close eye oh her just incase.  She and Ethan are getting close.”

“Oh really?” Rebecca asked with a raised eyebrow.  “Close how?”

“I’m not sure how Trinity feels.  She seems to be keeping that close to to the vest. But, Ethan is smitten.  I can tell when a boy likes a girl, and he likes this one.”

Rebecca considered the implications of this.  She couldn’t just move Trinity out of the quarters.   As part of the agreement when Julie was out on mission Trinity would stay with Milo so she wouldn’t have to return to Earth and live with her grandmother.   It was an odd agreement,  but Rebecca could understand the desire not to leave her friends on Starbase 75.

Angel on the other hand had chosen Earth to pursue fashion design in New York.  The two sisters couldn’t be more different. One wanting to be a Starfleet officer like her dad and the other to build a fashion empire. But, Angel was a sweet girl.  Smart as they came and driven to no end.  She was the best of both of her parents.

Then there was the mother.   SFI to the core, and by Rebecca’s reasoning a psychopath. The woman was egotistical,  narssacistic, and cold.  How someone like Nicholas Ryder could fall for her was anyone’s guess.  Nick had been Rebecca’s best friend since the Academy and without a doubt she owed her career to him. In every way Nick was the opposite of Julie. The two were the poster children of opposites attract. 

“And the girls?” Rebecca asked Milo of their own twin daughters.

Milo gave Rebecca a grim smile, “They miss you.  They keep asking about you.  At least when you were stationed in the Betazed Sector you stopped by every now and again.”

Rebecca frowned. Another reason why she had resisted to returning to Starfleet. “I miss them too.”

“Liv is in a a play from school, and Aimee is trying to learn how to play the piano.  From what I can tell they are pretty good at it.”

“Well, they didn’t get that from me.  I can’t carry a tune in a bucket and you always know when I’m lying.”

“That’s because I know you,” Milo replied logically.  “I reckon you would be for more convencing if I didn’t”, but yeah, don’t sing.  It awful.”

“Thanks,” Rebecca said flatly.

“You said it first.”

“Yeah, but I don’t need you to tell me that.  I know I stink, but the least you could do is give me a little white lie.”

“I’ll remember that for next time,” Milo said with a grin.

“You better!” Rebecca sighed, “I probably should get going. I have some things to take care of before I go to bed.  Tell the girls I love them for me, and tell Ethan to behave himself.”

Milo chuckled,  “I’ll do that.  Probably right in front of Trinity just to embarrass him.”

“You are an evil man Milo Talon,” Rebecca teased.

“Hey being embarrassing is part of the parent job description. I know I thought mine were when I was his age.”

“I can’t argue that,” Rebecca replied. “I love you and good night.”

“Good night dear.”

With that the screen went black and Rebecca’s quarters felt just little too silent… and little too empty.  She missed her family and silently cursed the Dominion for driving a wedge between her and them.

Rebecca entered sickbay, glanced around and found a hulking Klingon standing off to the side. “Doctor Qel’vek?”

He looked up from the microscope that he was looking into raising an eyebrow before rising to his full height and striking his chest in salute. “Qap’la, Captain!” he then crossed his arms over his chest “Indeed, we have met already. Unless this is a…Joke, of some kind.” 

“No joke,” she said.  “While I am not against a good jest those are best reserved for people we know. How are you settling in?”

“Humans joke far more than Klingons. Yet laugh much less heartily.” he noted, before shaking his head“Federation medical and science facilities are considerably better funded than Klingon ones…” he muttered, considering for a moment “Though I have received looks of doubt, I am quite used to these doubts. Healers are not…Valued, in the Empire. But, I have always viewed, that the surgical theater is just as important a battle, as one in the field – for in both cases, you control the fate of another.”

The”In my people’s not too distant past disease,  and infection was a bigger killer of armies than actual battle.  For example in the American Civil War for every three to die in battle five died of disease.   You are doing essential work my friend. Without you and others like you, we cannot keep fighting.”

“Klingons are not so susceptible to disease, but humans are our allies now. And I will ensure that they will not die in a bed, but die on the field with honor and glory in their hearts.” 

“Well, I would prefer the Dominion does the dying,” Rebecca said sardonicaly.

He gave a very small smile at that “They are winning.” he said, his small smile fading “The Yihoh did not know defeat until we fought the Dominion.” he said, a sizable amount of shame in his tone.

“All the more reason to make them die and not us,” Rebecca said.  “God I hate this war.  Space is so big! There’s no need for this!”

“You mistake my hate for defeat, with a hate for war. War is a fire in which warriors are forged. Where I hate, however- is the Dominion’s lack of regard for civilian lives. They are weak, and it is our role to defend the weak. The Dominion cares not for honor.”

Rebecca sighed,  “I understood you Doctor… I was expressing my frustration with the whole situation.   But yes, they have no honor, and it is our duty to protect those that cannot protect themselves. It doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Let us fight hard to ensure that our next battle is a victory, and not a defeat.” Krull returned, nodding.

Rebecca considered the man before her.  An anomaly,  “Why are you here?  I cannot fathom a Klingon would feel much at home on a ship like this.”

“Healers are not valued as they are in the Federation. My House is fallen. There is little for me in the Empire asides my pride…And you are correct, I do not feel at home here, I doubt that I ever shall – but I do not feel at home in the Empire either, at least here I can pursue my destiny without scrutiny.”

“That’s one thing you won’t get here.  Pursuit of the sciences is Starfleet’s primary mission. I came from an engineering background personally. Mom was the XO aboard the USS Missouri… She was killed in a Cardassian raid when I was ten.  I try not to let that color my opinions of them,  but they make it so damned hard.  I have to apologize I have no honor when it comes to yhr Cadis… I saw the broken nose, split lip and black eye on a prisoner we had, and yet I said nothing… ”  

She had no idea why the confessions came boiling out of her, but there was something cathartic about it. Just raw strings of consciousness and guilt. 

Krull looked over her once, and slapped his arm firmly on her shoulder “It is in fire that we are forged, Captain. You are forged of stronger metal than most.”

“Thank you Doctor.  I will leave you to your duties.  If you need anything don’t hesitate to come to me.” Not waiting for a response she turned and left sickbay hoping that dispensing with trivialities would sit right with the Klingon.

Four individuals stood on the rise of a windswept prairie butted up against the Rocky Mountains.  Dominus, Bellitor, and a man named Peter Crawford and his daughter. Before them was a ranch house showing all signs of inhabitation.  

“I agreed to this backwater hell hole because you said no one lived here,” Dominus growled to Peter.

Crawford held his twin phaser pistols in his hands and stared down Dominus, “No one did up until our last sweep last week.  Whoever is in there isn’t my fault.”  He smiled when his fourteen-year-old daughter, Carolyn, gave Dominus an equally sneer look.  She’d been along for the sweep and had been meticulous in her inspection.

“Whoever they are,” she growled, “…we can help them find new accommodations.”  She checked her weapons for the fourth time.  Always be prepared had been her father’s motto since she’d been old enough to remember.  He’d kept her safe in their rough lives, and she’d returned the favor by making any fools willing to challenge either of them suffer.

“Silence your pup,” Dominus grumbled at Peter.  “Women are to be seen, not heard, especially when they are still whelps.”

Bellitor stepped in, knowing very well that this was likely to end in a brawl, “Regardless,  they are here now.  If we kill them, will it draw attention on us?”

Carolyn stared at Dominus but held her temper.  At 14, she’d shed enough blood to fill a few buckets.  She wasn’t afraid of the man, but she was afraid of what would happen if she killed him.  He was useful, and they needed him.  Death wasn’t on the table at the moment.  So a glaring stare was what she settled on.  Peter snapped his head at Dominus, “Same goes for man-children.  As for the killing them part, this section of the prairie is notoriously forgetful when it comes to witnesses.  Even if someone saw or heard it, they don’t want the hell that would come with it.  I say we go meet the neighbors.  And encourage their lives to end quickly.”

Bellitor frowned staring at the house. The last thing they needed was nosey neighbors calling the authorities before they could establish themselves and move on the Federation in San Francisco and Paris.  She wasn’t opposed to killing,  she had done it plenty of times to meet her goals, but she didn’t enjoy it, and never just because.  “We should not kill them,” she said.  “We may need them as prisoners.”

Carolyn didn’t speak; she just looked at her dad, annoyed that they weren’t in motion.  Peter, for his part, nodded to Bellitor, “It’s a solid point.  I can go knock on the door, set for stun, and at least get them on the ground.  Then we can figure out the hell they are and what to do with them.”

Dominus growled and pulled out his phaser.  “Let’s go.”

The quartet crossed the short distance to the yard. Chickens were clucking and picking through the dirt for food.  It was a really nice day for Montana in early April.

A woman was at the door before they even got to the house and waited on them, shielding her eyes against the sun. “Peter? Peter Crawford, is that you?”

In his younger years, Peter might have frozen or paused in confusion.  Those years were past him.  He groaned, “Hells bells,” and stunned the woman, who yelped and collapsed to the ground with a grunt.  Without waiting, he scampered over her body, Carolyn at his back as he charged into the doorway.  An older man spun with an older phaser pistol in his hands.  The Crawford daughter gave a shout as she blasted the man into a stunned heap as Peter cleared the remaining rooms with Carolyn’s help.  They returned to the main room as the rest of their group filed in.

Crawford gestured with his weapon to the woman, “Aunt Tilly Crawford,” and then to the man, “Uncle Angus Crawford.”  The weapons returned to their holster, and he explained, “These two have a habit of going where they’re not supposed to and doing whatever they want to get it.  Tilly’s more hand to hand, and Angus, well, he’s the gunman.”  He stepped over to Tilly’s prone body and, with Carolyn’s help, dragged her to the center of the room.

Bellitor looked around, “This is much too small for our needs, but it is quiet and far enough away from anything that non-random scans will out our little operation.  I think we will need to go underground for much of our operation.”

Dominus grumbled, “And what am I supposed to do in the meantime? Screw the sheep like Crawford and the rest of his family?”

“I don’t give a damn what you do as long as you do it quietly,” Bellitor snapped back.  

Dominus’ hand fell to his hip and his fingers wrapped around the butt of his phaser.  “No woman talks to me like that!”

“Do it, and my crew will leave you here. You wouldn’t last a day before this Starfleet of whatever it is comes down on  you.”

Dominus snarled, murder still in his eyes, but he took his hand off the phaser.  Slapping his combadge, he snapped at the transporter operator and vanished as he returned to the ship.  Bellitor smiled.  She enjoyed getting under his skin.  It would make that night’s adventure all the more exciting.

Turning to Peter, Bellitor glanced at the alternant versions of his family, “I trust you know what to do with them.  We can use their love for each other against them and keep them silent.”

Crawford shrugged, “Dead, alive – don’t really matter to me.  Car, let’s get ’em tied up and shut up.” Carolyn gave a quiet nod while keeping Dominus in her peripheral.  They went to work with very little care or concern for the two.

“Peter, you have done some dilithium mining in your past, haven’t you?  You know the geology in this area best; where should we start building our cloning facility? Perhaps we can hide the entrance in the barn? I would like to get Marcus down here as soon as possible to start cutting the tunnels so I can move my equipment in. Cloning isn’t an overnight process.”

Peter left Carolyn to the tying and shutting as he went to his bag and pulled out a paper map of the area, “The barn is a solid place – you can see some existing mining tunnels already exist here…here…and here.  It’ll allow us some cover and some ease with getting those tunnels braced and built.”  He tapped at the parts of the tunnels that were marked off in big black crosses, “Best we avoid those areas – nothing good came outta there in our reality…pretty sure geology is similar.”  Carolyn sidled up beside him.  She’d done well with the two alternate Crawfords.  He smiled quietly, “Let’s get to work.”

Sixteen-year-old Angelica Ryder stepped out of the teleport gate at the corner of 35th and West Wells streets. Angel shouldered her book bag and tucked a bolt of black wool under her arm and made her way to the two blocks to her grandmother’s house.

It was an overcast day in Milwaukee,  a stark contrast to the sunny and almost balmy weather she has experienced while at school in New York City.  Then there was the time difference which was weird.  The whole gaining and losing an hour in the blink of an eye.  But, she was getting used to it, but it did mess her up quite a bit back in September. 

She stopped and let an old fashioned gas powered car rumble past her before crossing the street.  She had no idea why someone would meticulously restore whatever that was, but she could appreciate the work put into that GTO… Whatever that meant.

Turning onto her street she made her wat to the second house on the right.  Pushing the front gate open she walked up ghe path to  the house.  She fumbled with access code when a voice stopped her.

“You have grown,” a familiar voice announced. 

Angel turned and her face lit up.  Her father was standing at end of the walkway next to a family friend so close that she considered Rebecca Talon her ain’t.  “Dad!” She exclaimed excitedly. She was about to run to him and wrap her arms around him, but she realized  her arms were pretty full.  “Come in!” She exclaimed as she leaned her shoulder into the door and pushed it open. The two familiar faces followed her in and patiently watched as she deposited her heavy book bag and cloth onto a nearby armchair.  She turned and ran to her father and wrapped her arms around him.  “I missed you!  I like the beard.”

Dominus sneared and pushed Angel into Bellitor,  “I ain’t your father, but I will kill him.  After I kill you of course,  but for now we have a use for you.  You are going to help us build our clone army.

Confused Angel looked at the two intruders confusion on her face. “What are you talking about?  Aunt Becca what’s going on?”

“You should listen to him,” Bellitor responded with a malicious grin. “We aren’t who you think we are.” With that Bellitor stunned Angel and Dominus slapped his combadge,  “Dominus to Vindicator: three to beam up.”

Riandri had returned directly to the USS Denver following her meeting with Captain Sinclair. She expect to have a bit of time before he was able to send through any information but she had a couple of things she wanted to check on while she waited. In particular, something that happened the first day she arrived.

She headed to the Intelligence office on the ship and sat down at the desk after brewing herself a strong coffee; she had made sure to bring a hefty stock of ground coffee on board with her. She took a long sip of the coffee and grimaced slightly as it burned a little as she drank it before opening the console and activating her secure link to the SFI servers so the data request would be internal with SFI and not from the Denver. Before she went any further she closed her eyes and sighed then she began to type; ‘Commander Cheon Kyo, Romulan, Tal Shiar.’ She didn’t doubt his loyalties but the Tal Shiar insignia.

Riandri leaned back in her chair, grabbed her mug of coffee, and remembered she had finished it at least an hour before. Rubbing her eyes she stifled a yawn, “MMMaaaybe I am imagining it,” she said aloud to the empty room. After a couple of hours of searching and reviewing the commander’s records, she could only find the barest hint that he had been involved with the Romulans at some point; possible captures and that at best was reading between the lines. Whoever had cleaned the files, it was apparent someone did, had missed a minor bit of information. 

She glances at the clock and couldn’t prevent the yawn. She really should get some sleep. Pushing the chair back she went to stand just as the console beeped indicating that she had a new message. Sitting back down she knew that she was going to be up for a while yet. Opening her messages she wasn’t surprised to see the data package, as promised by Sinclair. “More coffee,” she muttered to herself, “Then sensor and signal data….”

After running to the all-but-empty crew mess hall Riandri returned with a large thermos of coffee. She had debated crewing some more of her own ground beans but what she needed was just a stimulant and she didn’t want to waste her special blend on that. Pouring herself a large cup she dropped into the chair. As she did another wave of dizziness swept over her this time accompanied by a vague sense of nausea. She steadied herself in her seat for a moment as it passed. “I have been up to long,” she muttered to herself but a part of her knew it had to be more than that, these waves of lightheadedness had been increasing ever since DS9 was retaken. “Tomorrow’s problem…” she said aloud as it subsided.

Turning back to the computer she opened the sensor data and signal data from Milwaukee on April 14th. She was surprised and impressed by how much data Starfleet had when it came to the large cities on the planet.  The majority of it was background signals and such but after spending 2 years working in SIGINT and knowing the exact area she was needing to look into she was able to eliminate 99% of data in a short timeframe, though that still left alot remaining.

After several hours she was confident she had narrowed down the possible kidnapping to both location and timeframe. Luck had been on her side, a random sensor sweep had detected a small energy reading which closely matched a transporter signal that took place at approximately 15:00 on the 14th several hundred meters from the nearest public transport facility. Though a slim lead, the margin error from the sweep gave it a 75% chance it was not a stray signal from the facility. When coupled with a communication signal that originated from approximately the same location to an unknown location in orbit she was fairly confident she was on to something. Her gut told her so anyways.

Looking at the clock she blinked in surprise, she hadn’t realized she had been up for most of the night. She paused for a moment, ‘It is really early….but this could be important,’ she thought. She reached for her combagde and tapped it;  “Lieutenant Nalam to Commander Kyo, I need to speak with you about something you may be able to help me with.” 

Without pausing, she tapped it again, “Lieutenant Nalam to Captain Talon, I have something.”

Little had changed in Milwaukee,  Wisconsin, since Rebecca had last been there.  It was just another typical Midwest city,  even centuries removed from the collapse of American heavy industry, the city still had that “rust belt” feel about it.

Doctor Tess Ryder’s house was a well-cared-for three-story red brick house built in the 1880s in the typical Queen Anne style of the era.  Around the parameter of the home was a porch and awning supported by carved wooden doric columns painted white and a two-story turret attached to the right corner. 

“Pete, is the tricorder picking anything unusual up?”

Crawford adjusted his light jacket as he took a look around the block.  He’d never been a fan of cities, and this one wasn’t changing his mind.  He slipped out his tricorder and did his usual surface scan.  “Nothing significant.  Some mild readings that could use some deeper inspection, but nothing that screams and shouts, ‘This is what happened here’.  If only it were that easy.”

Rebecca had her own tricorder out, scanning the area. “I’m reading a trace transporter signal.”

Crawford adjusted his tricorder and mused, “Now that is interesting.  Faint enough to hide beneath the ambient data but not enough to be hidden from view.  Someone’s either sloppy or stupid…or didn’t think anyone qualified would look into this.”

“I wonder if the neighbors saw anything,” Rebecca said, thinking out loud, scanning one house to the next.

Peter looked up at the house, “God, I hope they were sloppy or stupid – would make it really easy for a neighbor to give us something to go on.”  He walked up the stairs to the door, scanning as he contemplated, “The signal came from inside the house.  Whoever took her…they got inside.”

“What kind of signal?” Rebecca asked.

Crawford continued to scan, “Toss me the key.  We’re gonna need to get inside.”

“Key?  Oh, the entry code. 41556.”

Peter opened the door and cautiously stepped into the room, scanning as he walked, “Strongest in the living room.”

“I assume it’s a transporter signature. Can you tell by whom?”

The operations chief knelt down as he scanned the carpet fibers, “It’s a…” he frowned, “It’s not a Federation transporter exactly….”  He scanned with the tricorder once more before opening up his engineering equipment bag and pulling out a portable sensor pack, and activating it, “There we go…now we just connect that here…and…”, there was a beep and a whir as the sensor unit kicked into action, filling his PADD screen with more data.  “Well, they’re not stupid.”  He handed the still-scrolling PADD to his CO.  “They used a…what can only be described as a transporter signal encrypter…but instead of encrypting it…it makes it harder to decode the identifying origin or equipment.  Not impossible…but a bit more challenging than normal.”

“Who has that ability? Dominion? But, why a young girl and not an Admiral or even the president?” The Security Chief said, slowly scanning the room and looking for oddities.  “No sign of a struggle. Almost like the girl knew the abductor… or thought she did.”

Peter agreed as he hooked up to the door security, “The code was entered on April 14th.”  He did a data dump of the door and removed the connection, looking around the room, “No cameras in the house, so no help there.”  He returned to the door and glanced upwards, “No cameras here either.  But…,” he looked across the way and quickly scanned the homes on the other side of the street, “That one has one.”  He took off running.

“Lieutenant!” Rebecca exclaimed watching Peter trot off. Looking at Lieutenant Willis she shrugged,  “Secure the house.  We’ll be back.”

Lt. Alexander Willis was a tall slightly built Native American from the Choctaws in southeastern Oklahoma.  He wasn’t one to get excited and he simply nodded to Rebecca as she took off after her operations chief.

He arrived on the doorstep and gave the camera a once over, “Pretty good camera.  Let’s see.”  He tapped at the door chime, and soon an elderly man opened the door and gave Crawford an odd look.

“What do you want?”

Peter gestured over his shoulder at the house across the street.  “We’re working on a missing person’s case for a friend.  Local police are calling it a runaway.  We’re working a different angle.”  The man peered at him for a moment and then shuffled off back into the house.  Crawford frowned.

“What does that mean?” Rebecca asked having walked up at the tail end of the conversation. 

He shrugged as he turned to her, “Well, he didn’t invite us in, so…,” Crawford glanced up as the man returned, a chip in his hand.

“I heard about it.  Nobody asked me for the footage.  You asked.  You get first dibs.  Find that girl, sir.  She should be back home.”  With a gruff “Bye,” he shut the door, leaving Crawford blinking at the wood.  He slipped the chip into his PADD and held it out for Talon.

“Let’s see.  April 14th…time code…here we go.”

The camera was at an angle where you couldn’t see faces clearly.  A teenage girl came walking down the path with her arms full of something.   “That must be Angel.”

Crawford watched and frowned.  Something was unusual, he wasn’t sure what.

Two figures,  a man and a woman,  approached the gate.  Rebecca couldn’t make out their faces, but there was something familiar about them, and Angel definitely acted like she knew them.

“Well, we know they didn’t force their way into the house.” They continued watching for several minutes,  but nobody exited.  “Damn. I was hoping they would walk out. We could have gotten a clear shot of their faces. We should head back to the ship and analyze the data.”

Peter gave a nod, “We could also do some tracking of the transporter signal and examine the signal itself.”

“Maybe Lieutenant Nalam or Commander Kyo can create a reasonable reconstruction of the data using the profile of our suspects,” Rebecca added. “Is there anything else for us to find here?” She asked, slowly scanning the neighborhood for anything that looked out of place.

Crawford shook his head, “We’ve scraped the bottom of the barrel several times over.  Nothing left but the dust.”

“Then let’s head back to the ship.”  Tapping her combadge she spoke, “Talon to Denver three to beam up.”

Rebecca appeared on the transporter pad in transporter room two with Peter Crawford and Alexander Willis at her side.  “Thanks, Chief,” she said the the transporter operator as she stepped off the pad and walked out into the corridor with her two officers in tow.

“I’d like you to work with Lieutenant Nalam to see what kind of information you can extract from the data we’ve acquired,” Rebecca said to Peter. “Riandri was following her own leads.  Hopefully, she has something that will paint a more complete picture.”

Crawford gave a nod, “We’ll do everything we can to get us on the trail, Captain.”  He headed to the intelligence office with PADD in hand.

Riandri had left a message for the Captain but had yet to hear back. Given how long she had been away, she had stumbled to her quarters and passed out on the bed, still in her uniform. Her alarm jarred her awake after only a couple of hours, and she sat up, blinking as she brushed her blonde hair from her face. Quickly making herself presentable, she headed back to the intelligence office and her work. Getting there, she opened up the files and began to sift through the data associated with the transporter signal and communication she had detected.

Peter walked up to the door of the intelligence officer, remembering the miscreant who had called this place home before.  He’d made everyone hate him, and nobody had really been sad to see him go…or even asked about why he was gone.  They were just glad he wasn’t on the Denver anymore.  He tapped the door chime.

Riandri barely glanced up from the computer and two other displays she was using as she worked on isolating the transporter signal. “Enter.”

The ops chief stepped in, “Lieutenant Nalam, good morning.  Captain asked me to bring you the data we managed to pull from the house and inside…said you had your own leads you were chasing down?”  He smiled quietly, appreciating the look of the room now that a new face occupied it.  She’d improved the decorating which he mentioned, “The office looks better than it did.”

Riandri smiled faintly as Peter entered “Ensign Crawford, good morning,” she said then quickly covered her mouth hiding a yawn as he waved at one of the chairs. Blinking the last of the sleep away she nodded, “I do, I was able to identify an odd transporter signal as well as a communication signal from the house in question. We lucked out as a random sensor sweep was covering the area at the time. Someone or likely more than one definitely beamed out from there. What did you find? We can load it in here and see what we can extrapolate.”

Crawford slipped into the chair opposite her and handed over a chip, “We found a complex transporter signal.”  He explained how it looked and what he thought had been done to the signal to hide it or keep it from prying eyes.  “They’ve mixed it up pretty well, but I don’t know if they expected the crew of the Denver to pick up the case.”

She transferred to data that Crawford presented to her and merged it into her analysis; seeing similarities she was confident that the two were the same but the on-site data was more refined than the board sweep had picked up. “They were not trying to hide the signal at all which concerns me.”

Crawford pulled out his PADD and keyed in a few items, “You know, there’s something I’m still not fully sold on.  They took this girl…and there’s been no ransom call, no note, no nothing.  The place wasn’t even trashed.  Usually, if someone’s looking to get a rise outta someone, they’ll do the full smash and trash.  They did none of that here.  It was clean.”

“That is odd, I do think we are missing something important here. As you said we know the how but not the why?” Riandri said, giving Crawford a sideways glance, “What’s with the ‘full smash and trash’; you watch a lot of detective holos?”

Peter suppressed a quiet smile, “Don’t laugh, but for a long time, I wanted to be a police officer or something.  Did some studying in my high school years – I still dig into that world every so often just to see if it’s still an interest, you know?”  He meekly shrugged, “Dreams of a childhood.  You find anything?”

“This definitely has cleared the data up a bit. The signal is strange, almost federation but not; maybe a modified transporter,” Riandri said with a shrug as she blinked several times and ran her hand through her hair. She could feel another wave of dizziness and headaches coming on. “Part of me feels like I have seen a signal like this before, in a briefing notice,” she said as she tried to keep her thoughts clear, “I, ah, um, I need to…have a think on it. Run a comparative…analysis.” She raised one of her hands to her head and rubbed her temple and leaned back in the chair. “Just, um, give me a second…”

Peter frowned and gave her a careful look, “Lieutenant…you doing ok?”

Riandri blinked her eyes a few times before waving her hand dismissively, “Yeah, yeah…it’s just a headache and dizziness. Been happening since we got back to Earth, comes and goes.”

Crawford made a mental note to keep an eye on Riandri.  He wasn’t a doctor, but his concern for her was growing.   They continued to work on the data.

Ready Room–

Rebecca stared at Cheon over her ever-present coffee.  Leaning forward, she selected a slice of banana bread from the plate between her and her first officer.   Tearing off a bite-size chunk, she popped it into her mouth. 

“How are you feeling, my friend?” She asked, concern in her voice. 

Cheon looked up from the duty roster on his PADD.

“I’m fine, captain,” he said, returning his attention to the PADD.

Inside, he was fighting an old foe, one that he had let slip during an interrogation not long ago in front of a fellow officer.

“That must be one heck of an interesting…. whatever that is that you are reading,” Rebecca teased.

Cheon raised his head from his PADD, saying, “Just the roster for tomorrow,” before tossing it aside, “Not all that interesting.”

He then reached up and rubbed his eyes, letting out a soft sigh.

“Okay, what’s the matter with you?” Rebecca demanded.

Cheon rolled his head back and lowered his hand, his gaze fixed on the stark bulkhead above.

“I’m not certain,” he admitted. “I have a feeling something is wrong, but I’m not sure what it is.”

“Medically, I’m as fit as a horse, and the doctor says there’s nothing wrong,” he says to her. “However, I haven’t felt myself since that Dominion attack,” he admits, lowering his head to lock his brown eyes on Rebecca’s.

Rebecca stared back at Cheon, speechless. Whatever she was expecting, this wasn’t it. After a long silence, she sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “I need you, Cheon. The daughter of our task force commander is missing, who also happens to be a close personal friend. Do I need to look for your replacement?”

Cheon leaned forward as the announcement of a missing person caught him off guard. As he reflected on Jolie, his eyes became cold. “What is her name, and why wasn’t I notified sooner?” His voice had a tone in it that he was certain Rebecca had never heard before.

The inner battle he was fighting abruptly ended as he allowed the demon to flow forward, as he allowed the torture from the Romulan Tal Shiar as they attempted and succeeded in breaking him to flow. Even his outward appearance seemed to change into that of a cold, calculating Romulan Empire agent, even though he was fully human and completely loyal to the Federation.

“Angel,” Rebecca said, surprised at his reaction.  “You have been distant.  I didn’t want to bother you, and I have Lieutenants Crawford and Nalam on it.  We found some security footage of the suspects.  They are trying to decipher the data.”

Cheon brushed aside the remark and tapped an icon on her desk.

“Lieutenants Crawford and Nalam report to the captain’s ready room,” he said over the intercom before closing it.

Intelligence office-

Riandri looked up as the comms activated, and she heard the XO’s command. She looked over at Crawford. “We have been summoned,” she said with a faint smile, her headache gaining traction.  She quickly downloaded the summary data onto her PADD and stood up, causing her to sway slightly until she placed her hand on the desk to steady herself. Inhaling deeply before closing her eyes and focused her breathing. “Shall we Peter?”

Crawford gave her a concerned look, “I’m keeping my eye on you, Lieutenant.  We need you upright and functional.”

Riandri smiled faintly at him, “ I am ok, though I appreciate your concern. The headache will subside in a minute or two, always does. Let’s get a move on, Ensign.” With that, she grabbed her PADD and walked out of the office and towards the nearest turbolift.

Crawford followed her, and as they walked, he asked, “This the first time this kinda thing happened?”

Riandri nodded, “As far as I can recall; at least in any, ah, any consistent manner.” She continued walking and paused at the turbolift, calling it to their deck. “Some days it doesn’t happen at all, other days several times though the frequency has been picking up. I had been meaning to go see a doctor about it but work got in the way then this with Angel.”

Crawford turned to her, “You’ve lived a little longer than I have, so you’ll understand when I say – you gotta care for yourself before worrying about others – no matter the situation. Lieutenant, as Chief of Operations, I’m recommending you for a checkup regarding your symptoms.  We have a doctor, and you have a situation.  Whatever happens with Angel, I…we’re going to need you at full strength.”  He smiled as the turbolift doors opened, “Operations officers are notoriously a bit bossy when it comes to ensuring everyone’s in good shape.”  They stepped into the turbolift, and the doors closed.

Riandri knew he was right, “I hear what you’re saying, Lieutenant. And I will make time once we are done here.”

A couple of minutes later, both Riandri and Peter stood in front of the doors to the Captain’s ready room. She looked over at him and smiled, “All gone, feeling fine now. Likely just stress,” she said as she pressed the door panel to let the Captain and XO know they were there.

“Enter,” Rebecca’s disembodied voice came from the comm.

Crawford gestured for Riandri to enter first with a sly smile, “Age before beauty, as they say.”

Riandri rolled her eyes a that. “You think yourself funny, don’t you?” Her smile bled through into her voice. 

In his head, Peter muttered, “I don’t think I’m funny.  I know I’m frickin’ funny, ma’am.”

She then stepped forward into the ready room and looked at the XO, then the Captain, “Lieutenants Nalam and Crawford reporting as ordered.”

Ready Room-

“At ease, before you blow a gasket,” Rebecca said to her officers.  While on the bridge, she expected protocol. In an informal private setting such as this, she was less inclined to stand on formality.  “I was just bringing Commander Kyo up to speed on what’s going on.”

Crawford handed the Captain and the XO a PADD, “Lieutenant Nalam and I took some time examining the data I brought back as well as information she had gathered.”  He glanced at the intelligence officer, yielding to the floor to her to share what she had found.

Cheon accepted the PADD and looked over its contents.

Riandri nodded at Crawford. “I had found an odd transport signal near the location of Angel’s house along with a weak communication signal to a location in orbit. When I matched this data with what was found at the house, we,” she nodded towards Crawford, “were able to determine it was the same transporter signal, and the more detailed reading showed it to be Federation-like. Almost as if a federation ship’s transporter were slightly out of phase. I have a search running looking for similar events.”

“I am also trying to pinpoint the location in orbit. I have narrowed it down to several hundred square kilometers, but they appeared to be empty at the time. I hope to have more information soon.” Riandri remarked.

“You might set up a continuous scan. If the signature is as unique as you suggest, it might lead us to them,” Rebecca suggested. 

Crawford noted in his PADD, “The out-of-phase variable is odd – usually there’s a good answer for why something is out of phase, and you can track it back and get it sorted pretty quickly.  But here…there’s something just off enough that defies standard scientific resolutions to the problem.”  He tapped at his PADD as he thought and stared for a moment at the result.  He handed it over to the Captain and the FO, “No matter how much we try and separate the variable, it resists a standard explanation.  The scenario tests I ran keep coming back with no joy.  The last one just finished.  Red, red, and red.”  He looked to Riandri and then back to the CO and XO, “There’s another layer here that has me worried as I think it through.  We’ve had intrusions from other realities, universes, and times.  There’s always a nagging piece of evidence that points to the impossible…or unthinkable of the intrusion.  What if that out-of-phase variable is not some kind of error or even misdirection by someone we know…what if it’s from someone we think we know…but don’t?  We watched the footage and examined the house – Angel acted like she knew them.  What if she did know the face…but not the actual person who stepped into that room?”

Riandri pursed her lips and nodded, “A federation vessel or transporter from another reality or universe would definitely cause some phase variance in the signal.”

Rebecca considered the information, “Can we see if the computer could give us the faces of the suspects? As crazy as it sounds I think I know who she thought she saw. There’s something disconcertingly familiar with the suspects.”

Cheon looked up from his PADD and over at Rebecca, a curious expression on his face as he tilted his head to the side.

“Me… and her father,” Rebecca said answering the unspoken question.   “Nick is my best friend.  I know his walk.  I know the shape of the back of his head, the slope of his shoulders, and his mannerisms.  Hell, I should be able to pick myself out in a line-up,” she added.

Cheon nodded his head as he understood what she meant now by her statement of how Angel could have possibly known her kidnappers.

Bridge-

The helmsman sat checking over her station’s console, running diagnostics when a rift suddenly appeared before her. She reached up, on her console, and tapped the comms.

“Bridge to Captain Talon. Captain, we have a situation happening just off our ship’s bow. Approximately 1500 kilometers.”

Ready Room-

Cheon looked at Rebecca when the helmsman’s voice came over the comms. 

Riandri head snapped towards the viewport knowing it was unlikely she would see the rift but instincts were instincts. She then turned to look at Captain, “What the hell is going on?” she muttered as she then turned towards the bridge.

Rebecca was already out of her seat and heading for the bridge,  “I don’t know.” As she stepped onto the bridge she instinctively looked at the viewscreen in an effort to figure out the situation.  “Report.”

Riandri followed the Captain onto the bridge and watched as the rift appeared before the ship. “What is that?”

To be continued…

Angelica Ryder struggled against her bonds.  She was in some sort of facility lying on a cold hard table with nothing more than a sheet to cover her.  She hurt from the restraints. She hurt from the table, and she was chilled to the bone. 

Incredibly a Klingon and a Vorta worked side-by-side in this… for lack of a better term, lab; however, they looked like they were just as much prisoners as she was.  They were just afforded some freedoms thanks to whatever skills they processed.

“What do you want from me?”

The doors parted, and the people who were not her father and Aunt Becca entered with several others in tow.  Not her father gave her an evil smile, “And how is Pumpkin doing today.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Dominus laughed. He was enjoying seeing her suffer.  “Now, who is going to tell me that the pup has to augment DNA for my Army?”

Jericho leaned against the fall after stepping into the room and stocked his goatee. He had to admit himself he had little interest in this child, as long as they didn’t cause any disruption to the running of the ship, his ship as far as he was concerned, not that he would ever let Dominous know he thought that way. He flipped up his tricorder lazily and activated it. After a moment, she shrugged, “Sadly not, no genetic augmentations detected.”

Dominus looked like he wanted to murder Jeter where he stood but instead opted to take his anger out on the Vorta.  He grabbed Maveran by the neck and threw her into the wall with a heavy thump.

Maveren sat up, her voice hoarse, “My Lord, your man is an idiot. Let me show you.”  She scrambled to her feet, never showing her back to him.  Entering commands, she brought up the DNA profile.  “There is no question.   This specimen is a descendant of Kahn Noonan Singh.”

Dominus glared at Jeter. “Splice that DNA with his.  He will be the first of our super soldiers.”

Jericho glared back at Dominus before turning his ire to the sniveling Vorta, “A descendant, how many generations down the line, I ask you?” He looked back to Dominus, hiding the loathing he felt for him, “I was not lying; they have no current genetic augmentations detected; any that are there are either dormant or beyond use.”

The Vorta flinched but didn’t back down, “The DNA is present.  It just needs resequenced.”

Jericho stepped towards the Vorta and then stopped, “It would appear I had not been clear in my statement.” He said as he looked towards Dominus, “If you can prove your worth and find sufficiently intact DNA, then so be it. But next time you speak ill to me, I will throw you out the airlock.”

“Enough,” Bellitor announced.   “She may be a slave, but I have use for her; I do not have a use for you.”

Dominus smirked at Jericho.   There were two people who were a threat to his power: Jericho and Crawford. He would sleep better tonight knowing Jericho was removed from the board.

“You have my DNA.  Let me go, please,” Angel pleaded.

Dominus laughed,  “No, little girl.  You have been a pain in my ass in every reality.  Letting you go is not in the cards.”

Crawford sat at a table working on a console while his daughter worked on their weapons a table over.  She’d had to learn young how to dissemble, clean, reassemble, and more – her life had been lived on the run.  Peter hadn’t shed a tear when he’d killed her mother.  Carolyn had slammed her to the ground to give him a clean shot.  As much as he enjoyed the grandstanding and talkfests, he preferred action and attention.  Peter groused, “I’d recommend shutting her the hell up – the more you talk to her, the more she learns.  Given where she came from and the blood in those veins – she’s not going to show us her full deck anytime soon.”

Dominus let out a hearty laugh at Peter. He  then viciously back handed Angel making  a sickening crunch of cartilage as her nose was crushed. “You’re not going anywhere are you Sweetheart?”

She shook her head through the tears and not bothering to stem the tide of blood. “No sir.”

“That’s right, Dominus said almost gleeful.   He could see her fear and he relished it. ”Vorta, when will be be able to proceed?  I think she will be the face of my officers. Her father has been a threat to my plans in the past.  See the face of his daughter attack him… well, it will be too good to see.”

“I should have the augment DNA sequenced within a couple of hours, and then we can tailor the traits to your needs.  Shall we use white to control them?”

Dominus grinned, “Make them think I am a God!” Then his smile turned serious,  but yes, I do not need them betraying me like her own soldiers betrayed Bellitor.  Give them the white requirement as well.”

Mavern nodded, “It will be done.”

“Keep this up Vorta, and you may have earned your freedom. I am going to get some fresh air.  I do not like this hidden bunker.” With that Dominus glared at Jericho and stomped out of the lab.

Rebecca stared at the screen trying in vain to figure out what was happening.  “I don’t have a clue,” she said, answering Riandri’s question. “Mr. Crawford, what are the sensors detecting.”

Peter had scrambled to his station and very gently dismissed the operations ensign that had been tapping furiously at the console while staring at the image that had appeared on the screen.  “I’m detecting…what can best be described as a bend in time and space – whatever is about to come through is not….”  He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

Suddenly, a ship appeared from the rift. Its shields flashed blue as red lighting rippled over them. The hull appeared to be that of a Federation ship, though it was more advanced than any that the Denver’s crew had ever seen.

The main viewscreen then shifted to show a familiar face.

“Greetings,” was the only thing said as Vausees Vax appeared on the screen. Though she was not dressed in a MACO uniform, she was dressed in all black, from her uniform top to her bloused tactical pants, which were partially covered by a pair of black boots with some sort of shin guard built into them.

She stood there with her arms crossed behind her back, staring at Rebecca and the Denver. Her physical appearance belonged to someone of immediate importance and leadership.

“I am Captain Talon of the Federation Starship Denver. To whom am I speaking?”

Crawford had many questions, but he was busy trying to find the answers to other questions and began to task the operations station with sensor readings, scans, and deeper data interpretation.  Because he was, at the moment, quite alarmed.

Rebecca moved next to Peter’s console and typed out a message to him without even looking at the display,  Alert the fleet and Earth Spacedock, and request immediate assistance.

Vausees’ face flushed as she heard from the background of her ship that they were transmitting a message to Starfleet Command.

‘Captain, that is not necessary, as I am confident that you higher-ups were made aware of my presence before I even entered the event horizon of the temporal rift,’ she said, and a chime came from the communications station as if on cue.

Crawford sighed, “We are receiving priority messages from Starfleet Command, Captain.”  He tapped the console, and he nodded to them for Captain Talon to read.

Vausees shifted her gaze to Peter. ‘Ah, so this is the ship where you got your experience, cap…’ she paused to correct herself, ‘Ensign Crawford. Allow me to explain why I’m here.’

Peter stared at her and corrected, “Lieutenant.” He wondered how many paradoxes the woman had created in doing what she had done.

She turned around to face Cody, who had stood up and moved up next to Vausees. ‘You see, captain Talon, I know your son all too well, an Ethan Talon, if I’m not mistaken,’ Vausees said matter-of-factly.

‘Now the reason that we are here is that it has come to our attention, or rather ‘our’ Starfleet Intelligence attention, that someone from our time and other times along the timeline has entered into your time,’ she said as she looked into Rebecca’s eyes. ‘God, help us all if they succeed at whatever it is that they are doing,’ she said emphatically.

‘It has also come to my attention that a young woman has been kidnapped by said people, and I and my first officer are here to assist you in any way necessary, for which I am authorized to skim the fat off the Prime Directive.’ Vausees said this with a slight grin on her lips as she stood there broadcasting that information as if it were common knowledge. ‘With that in mind, this mission will have to be carried out undercover for two reasons. One, we’re not supposed to be here, and two, in order for this to work, I and Commander Bettencourt will need to be on your crew but not registered in your computer logs. I hope you understand why,’ she stated.

Crawford took the unusual step of muting the channel as he turned away from the screen and stared at his CO, “Captain – as much as this breaks every rule we have…and every rule they probably have…this would explain the readings, the kidnapping.”  He glanced at the woman and then back to Talon, “I don’t know how many universes we’re going to be dealing with here, but they taught us in the academy to trust none of them as far as you can throw them in space…and well, that’s a damn near impossible task as it is.”  His finger hovered over the mute button, “It is amusing I’m at least ahead of her Crawford in promotions.”

“And who’s to say they are who they say they are. They could be Changelings, though this is so fantastical that I can’t even imagine the Dominion cooking this one up.  Still, I don’t trust her that’s for sure.  Inform Starfleet Command of our status.  I’m inclined to impound their ship and strip it apart for information.”

Crawford tapped out the message to Starfleet Command with priority. his eyebrow cocked in curiosity at his captain.  She wasn’t known for tolerating nonsense, and her patience with whoever this was running out.  He wondered where this was going to take them this time.

Rebecca turned and slid into her seat, “Resume audio, Mr. Crawford.” Turning her attention back to Vax, “Captain, I suggest you return from whence you came.  I don’t trust you in the slightest.”

Riandri stood by the door to the ready-room and watched the exchange. She was fascinated by the possibilities that were presenting themselves but the risks and threats that were entwined with them gave her pause. She was about to go and speak to the Captain while the audio was muted but as she took a step forward her balance wavered and nausea grew. She staggered slightly, hoping to god no one noticed, especially the captain of the other ship. Before she could regain her balance fully a hand gripped her arm and she looked over to see Master Chief Jeters. 

“Best watch yourself, Lieutenant,” he said quietly and nodded to an empty station beside her, “Does Star Fleet Intelligence have much on this? Seems like she knows Crawford, damn odd.”

“Wasn’t my area but I know of some events, I can check for more,” Riandri said as she slide into the seat, the spinning of her head slowing. Riandri connected to the station and typed out a message to Crawford’s station. We need the information they have. Even if they go back any incursions must be stopped before it disrupts our timeline.

ISS Vindicator…

Órlaith stood next to her brother Ian at the tactical station aboard their cloaked ship.  Jeter was in command.  An alarm blared disrupting the quiet hum of the ship’s command center. “A quantum rift is appearing two-hundred kilometers off our port bow!” Órlaith announced. 

Jeter’s stood up from the command chair and took a step towards the large view screen, “Show me!” Before him the view screen switched from a view of Earth to the expanding quantum rift. As he watched he could see the ship slip forth from the event horizon of the rift. “Damn it. They followed us somehow.” His mind ran through several options, he could make a jump and leave those bastards on the planet to have whatever horrible fate they deserved befall them but he wasn’t sure if he would survive it. The crew showed little sense and most on the bridge were loyal to Dominus and Bellitor currently. He turned to Órlaith, “Double check that our cloak is working at peak efficiency and get me Dominus.”

“Cloak is fully operational,” Ian replied.  He had that odd smirk of excitement he always had on him when someone was about to die. 

The viewscreen switched and Dominus appeared shirtless and disheveled.  “What?”

Jeter’s looked at Dominus and could barely contain his dislike for the man. “A quantum rift has appeared and a warship has transited through.” He looked at the readings on the side of the view screen confirming his suspicions. “We were followed, the escape you planned didn’t work.”

Bellitor sat up in bed next to Dominus heedless of any modestly, “Who is it?  I seriously doubt it was the Alliance.  We covered our tracks from that reality.” The most recent reality they tried to conquer had blown up in their faces, but they had left a string of bodies in their wake including the clones of themselves which should have satisfied the Alliance that they were dead.

Jeter’s hid his annoyance, “I am not sure WHO it is yet. But the ship is decades more advanced than the ones in this universe, the only safe assumption is they are here for the Vindicator and us.” He let out a short breath, “If we are discovered we will be no match for them and the combined firepower of the Federation ships and defence installations in orbit. We should consider alternatives.”

“Do as you see fit,” Dominus replied. 

“Jeter, I have been doing some research.   Take the Vindicator to the Frakus System.   There’s a known smuggler’s base on the third moon of Frakus Prime.  Speak with a Ferengi name Galin and negotiate a prices for a fleet of ships.  Pay a premium for Romulan and Klingon. Demand a discount for Federation,  Ferengi and Cardassian.”

Jeter’s cocked an eyebrow at that. “That won’t be cheap but I will get as many as possible,” he said without emotion. ‘I do not think this will go as well as she is thinking.

“With ten-million bars of plundered latinum, we have a surplus in finances… it’s power we’re short on, and a fleet of ships will give us a head start until we can build our own.” Bellitor explained.

Several ideas rant through his head at that but simply nodded and said, “Too true.”

“And of us mother?” Órlaith said stepping next to Jeter.

“Hello sweetheart,” Bellitor smiled warmly.  “You and your brother may look like an adult,  but your age acceleration hasn’t given you sufficient experience. Listen to Jeter. Help him the best you can and learn from him.”

“Yes mother,” Órlaith replied.

“Take care of my children Jeter,” Bellitor said.

Jeter’s looked at Bellitor and nodded. “I will get this fleet and be in touch when it is assembled.”

“Oh, and Jeter Kill Galin at the conclusion of your dealings.  Dead men tell no tales.”

His lips curled up into a wicked grim, “That goes without saying.”

The ISS Vindicator dropped out of warp a short distance from the third moon of Frakus Prime while remaining cloaked. 

Jeter’s looked on at the moon as its image grew on the viewscreen. “Órlaith, Ian. What do we have here?”

“I am not reading any military ships in the sector.  All ships appear to be civilian in design.  Several ships are not transmitting transponder data.”

“Pirates?” Ian asked.

“Possible or they could be smugglers. Either way, they don’t want official entities knowing who they are.”

Nodding Jeter’s stood and looked around the bridge before looking at Órlaith, “Bring up the holo display and send a message to this worm, Galin. I don’t want him to know what he is dealing with until it is too late.”

“Then perhaps we could just show up,” Órlaith suggested.  “Surprise has a way of working for those that cause it.”

Jeter pondered that for a moment and didn’t disagree but he also was aware that surprising someone like this could have some nasty side effects as they could be a bit jumpy. ‘Jumpy could work for me though…’ he thought.

“That works for me Órlaith. Shall we pop over and see what they have for us? You’re both with me,” he said. He looked over at Lovecroft, “The Bridge is yours, Lovecroft. Keep the cloak up and an eye on things…” he paused for a moment before looking at Chapman, “Keep the weapons ready to power up in case they are needed.”

Brother and Sister nodded. “This moon sits outside of any jurisdictional boundary and is basically a modern version of Port Royal where smugglers, pirates, and other folks who don’t want to be found can be found here.  These are tough people, ” Órlaith informed Jeter.   “I’m not sure our standard heavy-handed approach will be successful.”

“That is to be expected, but what will work here is gold-pressed-latinum. Greed speaks volumes and for the amount we have I am confident they will listen.” Jeter’s shrugged as he continued and stepped up to the lift, “Besides, if it doesn’t and the Ferengi isn’t open to a construction talk I am sure one of his lieutenants will be.”

Both Ian and Órlaith smirked.   The Vindicator easily outclassed any ship here,  so if they were betrayed they could make quick work of the offender.

Moon side…

People were crammed into the primary city of Nar Shala cheek by jowl. Most of this moon was an uninhabitable wasteland with no natural water.  Órlaith was amazed that there were so many outcasts in one area, especially compared to the orderly neatness of the Federation. 

The people walking the streets of this city were a veritable smorgasbord of who’s who of Alpha/Beta Quadrant species. Humans, Orions, Klingons, Andorians, Nauscicans, Bajorans, Romulans,  Cardassians, and at least two dozen lesser races. 

The streets were filthy and lined with trash. Electric signs advertised any number of services from bars, gambling houses, restaurants,  brothels, ship parts and repairs, and fences for stolen goods. Not everyone on this mooring was a criminal,  but they were all armed to the teeth and looked every bit as tough as living here would require. 

Jeters looked around and smiled, this was the sort of place he felt most at home in, and he knew he would be able to get what he was after here. Looking over at the brother and sister, “Shall we go buy ourselves a fleet and then see what your mother has in mind for it?”

“Agreed,” Órlaith replied. 

“You seem uncharacteristically jovial,” Ian observed Jeter with a suspicious eye.

Jeter snorted a laugh, “I like to think I am jovial all the time. Besides a place like this feels alive, much nicer than the polished state of the federation.” He continued to walk for a moment before casting an eye at Ian, “Why? Does that make you nervous? You have to admit the energy of this place is great, alive.”

“It’s a shithole,” Ian replied contemptuously, “The fact that you are enjoying this is a reflection on you.”

Órlaith gave her brother a curious expression.  The girl often viewed the world with that odd little expression of hers. She was nothing like her family.  She wasn’t given to the cruel violence of her father or the cold calculation of her mother.  She had the same loyalty to her family as her brother,  but she never seemed to do so unquestionably. 

“I believe what Jeter is saying is that this is more natural… there’s a fakeness to the Federation.”

Jeter’s snorted at Ian’s comment but gave Órlaith an appreciative look. “Órlaith understands at least in part. Once you have actually experienced more of what the universe has to offer you may understand.” He would happily see Ian tossed out an airlock but Órlaith had to potential to actually make her own decisions. 

“Shall we get on with things, so you can get out of this ‘Shithole’ Ian?” Jeter’s asked with a little laugh. “If I am not mistaken Galin owns the establishment up ahead. We should be able to complete our business in short order. Hell, Ian, if you want maybe you can go an explore a bit, live a little. The Ferengi are famous for being able to provide for everyone’s vices; likely even yours.”

Ian enjoyed killing.  He enjoyed torture and little else, “I doubt it. Besides,  we have work to do.”

Jeter’s rolled his eyes. “Let’s get to it then.” A few moments later they walked into a large casino with various games being played and numerous young women serving alcohol and mingling with the customers. “I see Dabo girls don’t change no matter what universe you are in,” he muttered with a little laugh. He paused for a moment a looked around before his eyes came to rest on a Ferengi behind the bar, one who seemed more interested in the general activities and workers than in serving people. 

Walking over, not bothering to say anything to the others, he leaned onto the bar and gestured to the man to get his attention. “I need to speak to Galin, go get your boss and I will make it worth your time,” he paused, for a moment, before adding, “in latinum.”

~~~

Seong sat in the corner of one of the upper promenade’s private booths, her presence almost unnoticed by everyone except her employer, a Ferengi. As she sat there, her dark chocolate eyes scanned and surveyed everyone who walked into the bar. When she saw three people enter the establishment, she knew something wasn’t right. She knew almost everyone who walked into the bar.

As she sat there watching, she noticed one of them, a man, walk over to the bar and start talking with the bartender. She could see the slight tension on the bartender’s body shift, from her perch in the booth, and knew that something had been said about her employer.

A small Ferengi shuffled up to the private booth and was met by a large, tree trunk-like arm as one of the guards stopped him. The small Ferengi looked up at the serpent-like man, who looked back at a Ferengi who was enjoying the bar’s entertainment.

Galin looked through slit eye at the other Ferengi, even though his lobes were being played with, and waved the other in.

“Ah, Cuz, what can I do for you?” Galin inquired as the smaller Ferengi halted and knelt before his superior.

“A hooman asks for you.”

Galin sighed as he looked at the two women, “Duty calls my lovelies but don’t stray too far this won’t take too long,” he said with a sly impish smile.

He nodded to Cuz, “Well, bring the hooman here.”

Seong glanced over at Galin and knew exactly what she had to do. She stood up and quietly exited the booth, unnoticed.

Cuz approached the outsiders.  There was a quick exchange and the Ferengi bartender lead the trio across the bar and up the stairs leading to the private booth overlooking the entire bar.

Órlaith and Ian flanked Jeter both carrying disruptors on their belts that would be unrecognizable to those in this reality.  Ian stood with his arms crossed displaying the bulging arm muscles through his short sleeved t-shirt. He wore a dour expression as if to challenge the Ferengi or his bodyguards to try something foolish.  

For Órlaith’s part she stood casually slowly looking around the bar taking in their surroundings.  No threat was unobserved.  She cared less about optics and more about surviving any ambushes. It was in this scan, sitting across the bar at an upper level she noticed a Delvonian sitting casually at a table with a phaser rifle. The weapon was hidden from casual observation, but she could just make out the blackened barrel poking out from the leafy green foliage of a fake house plant.

This would not be the time or the place to kill Galin as her mother instructed. That would invite instant death. They would have to get his trust and get him to let his guard down.  Possibly invite them into someplace private.  Her blood ran cold with the realization that it would likely have to be her coupled with a decent about of seduction. That was an unpleasant thought on several levels.

“The Hooman known as Jeter and his associates,” Cuz announced as he lead them to Galin.  Cuz had barely asked Jeter his name and completely ignored brother and sister until now finally acknowledging their existence. Órlaith knew that would get under her brother’s skin. As her mother said, “He is often susceptible to bouts of testosterone poisoning like his father.”

Jeter’s nodded, “Thank you Cuz, the introduction is greatly appreciate.” He pulled out a bar of latinum and tossed it to the Ferengi, “As promised,” he said before casually adding, “and I have more where that came from if people are willing to work with me.”

With that he turned to Galin, “I have a business proposition for you. I have been told you are the one I, we,” he corrected waving vaguely towards the brother and sister, “need to speak to about obtaining certain items.”

Órlaith leaned into Jeter and spoke softly,  “I would be careful with displaying any kind of wealth here.  It could prompt unwanted attention.”

Jeter’s smirked at Órlaith, “Without the right incentive we won’t get want we want but there is no harm to get on guard.” He turned back to Galin and smiled, “So, are you interested?” 

Galin reached over and retrieved a small container of beetlesnuff, which he offered to the group, before he spoke, “The depends on two things,” he stated, “One being if your Latium is worth its weight, and two what my associate finds.”

Jeter’s looked on at the beetlesnuff and shook his head, barely hiding his contempt for the stuff, “No, I will pass and I can assure you that the latinum is worth its weight. Though I am curious as to what you associate you are referring to. We have come here in good faith to do business and I will not tolerate anything less from you.” 

“A background check may lead to some conflicting information,” Órlaith stated, “That is, if that’s what you are referring to.  For myself and my brother… you’ll likely discover nothing. But, I assure you, our latinum spends just as well, and if you can help us you will be a very rich man… Grand Nagus rich. Probably wealthier.”

Seong entered the room quietly, unnoticed by anyone except Galin. He didn’t even flinch when he saw her walk in, keeping that information to himself, “Background checks, blah.  I despise those things, and you’ll find out what my associate is looking for soon enough.”

Seong emerged from the shadows behind Galin, her face expressionless as she shifted her gaze from Jeter to his company. “It appears that someone is after you,” she said coldly, “and you’ve come here by desperate means,” her cold eyes bore into each of them. “And I know who’s on the lookout for you.”

Galin turned his head to look at Seong, his eyes wide with curiosity. She looked at him and told him without saying anything. “Are you aware of who is after you?” he asked Jeter.

Jeter’s shrugged indifferently, “Doesn’t matter. The real question Galin is how rich you want to be. As my colleague here has said, do you want to be Grand Nagus rich or shall we find someone else who has the appetite for that wealth?” He looked at Seong and winked, “The call is yours really.”

Seong leaned forward, looking Jeter in the eyes, and said a single name, ‘Vax,’ in a nearly whispered tone. She then pushed her hand off the table, leaving behind a single device, the Terran Empire’s comm’s badge, dressed with the rank of Captain and the name ‘Vausees “Ves” Vax’.

Jeter’s frowned slightly at the name and snorted. “Ah, cannot say I am impressed with that. She is always looking to cause trouble,” he said as nonchalantly as he could. He turned back the Ferengi and looked him right in the eyes. “Are you afraid of a name or more interested in money?”

Galin remained silent as Seong spoke because he valued her values above all others. She had proven to him that she was a more valuable asset than wealth could buy. And he knew her worth was greater than all the Latium in the universe.

As a result, when she spoke, he listened but said nothing to encourage her lethal skillset. Skills that he had seen used on numerous occasions when someone attempted to manipulate him.

He spoke up when she said nothing about wealth. “I am an exception to the Ferengi’s, my friends,” Galin said, leaning back on his soft, plush couch. “However, I am not stupid enough to allow Latium to slip through my fingers.”

“Good,” Jeter’s said. “Glad to see that Ferengi’s can always be counted on.”

Órlaith’s hand fell to the butt of her disruptor but didn’t say anything.  Jeter may think this intruder to be inconsequential,  but something about her sent alarm bells off in her head.  The fact that she hadn’t noticed Seong until Seong presented herself was disconcerting.

Jeter watched the new arrival, inwardly impressed at her silent and sudden appearance though all too aware of the possible threat she posed. If what she said was true then she had information that a person from this universe should not have.

Seong had observed Órlaith’s reaction to her unexpected appearance and realized she had an advantage over the woman. She kept this information to herself, hiding it behind an expressionless face as she retreated into the shadows, aware that everyone knew she had done so. She knew, however, that once she was out of sight, she would be free to move without being noticed. She could have taken everyone in the booth out and fled without making a sound, but instead, she returned to her seat in the corner.

Órlaith kept a weary eye on Seong but decided the intruder to not be an immediate threat. But, Órlaith knew she would not turn her back on the woman.

“So Galin, shall we discuss business here or somewhere with less hears?” Jeter’s asked.

“Ships,” Órlaith spoke in a low tone so that only the Ferengi could hear. She was tired of the beating around the bush, and she figured that would get Galin’s attention. “As many as you can get us.”

Galin fixed his bloodshot gaze on the woman, “Why else would you be here, if not for ships,” he said, his tone cold to the touch.

He returned his focus to Jeter. “So, my friend, tell me what kind of ships and crew you’re looking for.”

Seong couldn’t help but grin behind her expressionless face, knowing what her employer was about to do and relishing it. Not many people had her wicked sense of humor, but when it came to Latium, no one was more cunning than Galin, and he knew it.

“Warships, and as many as you can provide. We are not picky as to their origins but they must be functional.” Jeter’s remarked, “Will that be an issue?”

“We don’t need crews.  Mercenaries are problematic.  We have our own solution to that particular need,” Órlaith added.

“Just how many were you thinking about taking control?” Galin asked as his Ferengi lobes started to tingle.

Jeter smirked knowing that the Ferengi saw latinum, “The question isn’t how many we want to control but how many you can provide. Let’s stop beating around the bush, what do you have access to, and what costs?”

Galin felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see that Seong had moved again without making a sound. “I can get you anything your greedy black heart desires, hooman,” he said, looking up into her eyes and nodding before returning his attention to Jeter. “Just name it.”

Frowning Jeter looked at the Ferengi, and tried to maintain his calm, he really hated them at times. “Negh’Var,  Vor’cha, B-rel, and so on. Any Federation ships you may have. Romulan, we are not picky.”

Galin looked at Seong for a split second and she knew exactly what needed to be done. As she slipped unnoticed, Galin returned his attention back to Jeter.

“Hooman, your armada will be waiting for you at these coordinates as long as you have the Latinum for the cost,” Galin reached into his coat and pulled out a PADD, which he handed to Jeter after a brief moment.

Meanwhile, Seong stood in a corner, unnoticed, watching the base’s patrons go about their business, almost all of which Galin had a hand in. Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder, “Took you long enough,” she stated as she turned her head slightly to look into the light blue eyes of Vausees.

“You know I don’t want to be here, Seong,” she replied, “and I’ll never understand why you chose to side with a Ferengi.”

Seong smiled slightly; a slight upturn of the corner of her mouth. “He pays more than the Terran Empire ever could,” she said as she slipped a PADD from her shoulder into Vausees’ hand. “You’ll find them there and I trust that you and I still have an understanding of my circumstances in this dimension.”

Seong didn’t wait for an answer because she knew Vausees well enough to know that if she was betrayed, the Trill would have nowhere to hide, and instead walked away.

Vausees watched as Seong vanished among the throngs of denizens who lived and worked on the base. She knew she wouldn’t be able to track Seong’s every move, and sure enough, Seong vanished from her sight. She sighed and stepped back into the shadows after looking down at the PADD.

“God, I hate this assignment,” she thought to herself as she walked back to the shuttle that had taken her to the base. 

The Bridge of the Denver was bathed in the red glow of the red alert status.  Logically Lt. Alexander Willis knew this was a simulation,  but the sensory imput told him otherwise and he felt his heart rate increase. 

“Aft shields are down,” Wills announced from his station next to Chapman.  “I’m reading transporter signatures.  Intruder alert!”

“I see them! Deploying security team Alpha now. Bravo and Charlie on hot standby.” Beth calls out as she taps on her console to give the orders to the security teams. She, in recent weeks, had restructured the security division onboard, using and training them more as military police officers rather than “security.” Because of the size of the ship, all members were trained as if they were a SWAT team; they were capable of handling intruders or of simply buying time. Beth took a moment to breathe before addressing the shields problem. Even though she knew it was just a simulation, it did not feel any less real. “I see the shield problem. Switching to backups, starting shield regeneration. Firing diversionary phasers!” She exclaims as she hits the present fire controls on her console. Muttering to herself, she walks her through the procedure and curses out the enemy she was fighting.

The hum of a transporter beam marked the materialization of a group of Jem’Hadar beaming onto the bridge.  Alexander already had his phaser in hand and he fired at the closer of the enemy. 

Robert Jeter stood off in the shadows at the back of the bridge, hidden from the direct line of sight of all three department chiefs. He glanced down at the PADD in is hands, and twisted his mouth into a small smile. The reaction times were definitely improving, and they were doing well with the simulation so far. Looking up, he saw the combat team of four Jem’Hadar beam finished beaming onto the bridge. As he watched Alexander shoot one the moment, the soldier materialized, dropping him.

The rest of the bridge crew, personnel from the alpha shift, showed their skill and ducked behind consoles and out of the line of sight while grabbing their own phasers. Not all were fast enough, and the Jem’Hadar were able to catch two of the crew with shots from their disruptors, stunning them.

Beth instinctively hit the bridge panic button on her console, turning on all the lights on the bridge and locking all the bridge executive functions, releasable only with the confirmation of the Captain and First Officer together. She fired back, hitting one of the Jem’Hadar soldiers. Weapons fire was directed toward her, so she ducked down again, firing back in between volleys. 

Alexander took a shot in the shoulder.  He stumbled backward and fell to the deck.  He took aim one last time as the blackness closed in on him, and the beam went wide missing. 

Crawford suddenly felt as if everything was moving too fast for him.  He wasn’t sure what had just caused him to lose focus as all hell had broken loose around him.  He’d managed to do the minimum on the operations console, but when the invasion had happened, he’d frozen.  Peter had taken a grazing blast and was about to fire back when Alexander took a hit as well.  In the moment, Crawford felt very much like a rookie. And he wasn’t sure how to feel about any of that.

Jeter frowned as he watched Alexander stumble back after being hit by the weapons fire from the Jem’Hadar. Any boarding action would have injuries; it was to be expected. He stepped forth, ignored by the Jem’Hadar, and spoke, “Computer end program.”

The program froze, and a moment later, everything vanished save the officers. Several groaned and began to sit up after they had been stunned by the weapon’s fire. “Good job, everyone,” Jeter said, “Chapman, quick thinking on locking out the bridge functions; the last thing you want is to allow the boarding team to gain control of the bridge. Willis, fantastic reaction speed. If everyone moved that quickly, the Jem’Hadar would be down before they realized what happened; just don’t forget to get yourself to cover.”

Crawford didn’t speak, nodding along with the conversations as his mind raced to sort out what had happened.  Had he lost his confidence? Lost his concentration?  There was any number of causes, and his mind was working to diagnose and address whatever it was as quickly as he was able.  He’d need to get to a console privately, that was for sure.

Looking around at the junior officers, Jeter nodded towards the door. “Have a think about these drills and have a debriefing with your department heads to discuss thoughts and changes to your actions,” he said before turning to look at the senior team, “As I said already, great work. A marked improvement in reaction times. Is there anything you would like to add?”

“Chief, if I may?” Beth speaks up with her hand raised. “I would like to schedule another round of these in a week after I have had a chance to review the data from this simulation. I have a few ideas on how to decrease response time while increasing force effectiveness.”  

Jeter nodded in Beth’s direction, “I am happy to run these continually if need be. I wil schedule another round of these in 5 days.” He glanced over at Crawford with an expressionless face and made a note speak to him when he had a chance. He had appeared to freeze which was unlike the young man.

“Unless anyone has anything else, I think we can call it hear. If you have anything you wish to speak about to me you know where to find me,” Jeter said. “Computer arch.”