Eight months ago…

The Federation ship was relentless. The Sovereign-class banked hard to the right. As it came to bear on the Keldon-class Korvarek, it unleashed a volley of quantum torpedoes and a barrage of phaser fire.

Gul Gulan Voskar was tossed to the deck as his whole world had chosen to be torn apart. Consoles ruptured, showering the bridge with sparks. The placid male voice of the computer relayed a series of warnings that Voskar didn’t pay any attention to.

Glinn Siana Mirel was picking herself off the deck as Voskar turned to his tactical officer. “Weapons offline, Sir. Shields are down.”

Dukat promised us that this would be a quick war… I can see he has underestimated the Federation. He was always a shortsighted fool, especially at the Military Academy, Voskar thought to himself.

“Gul, life support is failing,” Operations officer Rika Narin announced.

Good ol’ Rika, Voskar thought. As Two Mokar at the Bamarren Institute, he was part of a successful overthrow of the First Level students. Always resourceful he is.

“I still have a response from the engines. There’s an M-class planet not far from here,” the helm officer added to the cacophony of reports.

“Sir? What are your orders?” Mirel asked.

I need to say something, the Gul thought, but for some reason, he could not find the words. He was so tired, and it felt like he had drunk an entire bottle of kanar. His head swam, and his vision closed in around him.

“Sir, what are your orders?” Mirel repeated.

“Sir, are you okay?” Rika asked.

Voskar fell to the deck; his knees no longer able to support his weight. As the Gul lay on the carpeted floor, scattered with the ruined bits and pieces of his ship, his vision shrank to a single point. He stared at a chunk of something black until his vision blurred to black.

I think I’m dying, he thought as the last of his consciousness left his body.

Colonel Grelar Ironfang stared down his long snout at the nearly hairless creature lying on the metal autopsy bed. He, at least Ironfang assumed it was a male, had strange neck ridges from his oddly round ears to the edge of his shoulders. His face was misshapen with bumpy ridges and a spoon-shaped divot in the center of his forehead. The only fur the creature had was a shock of straight black strands on the top of his head.

“Is it real?” the Colonel asked.

“Yes, very much so,” the doctor replied. “Its anatomy is nothing like what we have seen on our planet.”

“So it’s an alien?”

“I am still waiting on the results of the genome test, but yes, I can safely say this being is of extraterrestrial origin.”

Ironfang let out a low growl of annoyance. “This cannot leave this room. Understand me?”

“Of course, Colonel.”

“If this gets out, there could be panic in the streets. The wreckage of their craft is beyond our scientists. I just hope this isn’t a prelude to an invasion.”

The doctor let out a low growl and held his head low in an act of submission. “Medicine is my domain. Strategy is yours.”

“Then you best remember that if you ever want to talk about what you’ve seen today.” With that, the Colonel marched out of the morgue where four soldiers were waiting. Two with flamethrowers entered as Ironfang walked out. The other two flanked their colonel as he marched down the corridor with the fire alarm blaring and smoke billowing out from under the morgue doors.

Ming had returned to the flight bay after some meetings around the ship. He was pleased with the flight’s simulated scores.  They were smoothing out with Abara and improving with a few modified attack plans.  They’d earned the rest of the evening off.  

Speaking of which….He walked over to a knot of the flight crew with a bit of a smile on his face.  He got nods from all involved before everyone but the ordinance chief and his protege melted away.  Marcus quirked an eyebrow and said, Wow.  I’m not used to being such a buzz kill.  But, since that was the effect, to business I suppose.  How is our protege doing Petty Officer Andrews?”

“She’s doin’ just fine L.T.  She’s picked up things faster than most which got a few grudging compliments from Chief Xellath if ya believe it. She’s also seeming to get a bit more familiar with the Fleet way of things,  Maybe not quite as fast as the hands on and technical side of things but even still she’s doin’ a fine job of getting into the swing of things,” Andrews said with a hit of enthusiasm in her voice. 

The Knight’s commander nodded and glanced at Órlaith, “Think that is an accurate assessment Ms. Murphey?”

“I don’t believe I am qualified to answer that sir. It’s hardly an objective and unbiased assessment and certainly useless.”

Ming folded his arms and studied Órlaith Murphy for a moment before saying, “I can certainly appreciate modesty. Something you’ll want to work on is being able to do an objective self-analysis…or at least reasonably objective anyhow.  It’ll be a very useful skill to attain as, be it Starfleet or private firm, many organizations often ask for such a thing during interviews as well as semi annual or annual reviews.  I personally didn’t see much use for them when I was starting out but I’ve gotten an education over the years which proved otherwise.” 

He glanced over at Andrews after he finished speaking.  The Ordinance chief took the que and said, “The L.T. ain’t wrong about that.  It can be a pain in the backside but it is cert’inly a danged useful talent you’ll wanna pick up.” 

“It’s not modesty.  It’s a matter of objectivity.  It’s impossible to impart an honest and truthful assessment of my performance.  Failures are amplified and success is undervalued or overvalued depending on the individual or situation.. or even my mood for that day. Do I feel like I am doing an acceptable job? Sure. I wouldn’t be here right now if I didn’t feel like I was.”

Ming’s violet eyes focused on his protege as she spoke.  He thought for a moment, reevaluating his approach since the explanation he and Andrews offered wasn’t getting through.  After a moment he said, “Ok…New approach. Another way to put it is to look at your day to day duties.  Pick out two or three things that you feel you’re doing the best at.  Or, if you’d rather, what you’ve had an easy time with….Leaving out the basic stuff in this case. Conversely, think about two or three duties that you have a hard time with.  It’s how the game often works with performance reviews.  It’s how things have largely worked for the past few centuries unfortunately.”   

Órlaith shrugged, “Remember you asked sir. I feel that i am doing everything well. Perhaps social interaction may be my biggest weakness,  but that is not part of my job.”

“In your personal life…That is absolutely up to you.  On the job in the fleet or even in many to most private industries there’s going to be at least some. Most of the time your coworkers and you supervisors aren’t going to be close friends and they won’t try to be.  A certain level of social expectation in most jobs.  It’d be good if you manage to either acclimate to it or else, at the very least, fake it.   I have every reason to believe that it’ll be an asset for you if you do so.”

As he finished speaking Ming’s combadge gave a double chirp.  He exhaled slightly and said, “And that is the five minute warning for my next meeting.  I suspect Petty Officer Andrews can answer any other questions that you have for now.  If not we can talk about it later.  In the meantime as you were.”

Marcus nodded to each of the women with a slight smile before he turned and headed for his office on the far side of the launch bay.   When he got there he sat behind his desk, got logged in and reviewed some of the latest reports and updates while he waited for Sh’iv to arrive.  It was mostly the same ol’ same ol’ although there was one slightly cryptic message from a friend at Starfleet Command.  He was about to read it twice but he downloaded it to the padd for later review.  He didn’t want to be interrupted while he worked on trying to cypher it out. 

Sh”iv stood at the doorway to Ming’s office,  “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes, I did.  Come on in. Have a seat if you care to.  I wanted to see if you’d been able to review the flight performances of Knights 3 through 5 yet,” Ming said amiably. 

Sh’iv stepped fully into the office and stood in front of the desk with her hands behind her back. “I have.  What three lacks in skill she makes up for in in enthusiasm. She has difficulty anticipating enemy maneuvers and can lose big picture situational awareness. 5 is a truly gifted pilot.  Better than me, and possibly better than you. He has raw talent and natural instincts.  Unfortunately he knows that as well, and he can he a bit arrogant and he does not make for a good wingman.” Between 3 and 5 I would prefer 3 at my side. 5 will get someone killed.”

Ming allowed himself a slight smile which ended up being less slight than intended.  The Knight’s CO said, “Your flight leader was accused of being the same not very long ago.   As a matter of fact that is why Ranger Actual put us together.  Abara came across as arrogant then too.  They mistook my quiet nature for smug…Mostly, anyway.   Admittedly I was a little smugger back then.  They figured the two crazy pilots should fly together.  His senior thesis was on Celtic Lore which, along with his very impressive skin tone, lead to his callsign of the Ebony Druid.  The madman from New Berlin, Luna got sidled with the callsign of The Lunar Lunic or Lunartic for short.” 

Marcus tilted his head, “Guess it’s good that Jenna has your wing while Abeo’s on mine.  I know how to handle him after flying with him as long as I did on our last assignment so no worries from me on the matter.  He talks a big game but there is a method to his madness.  BUT, with that being said, that just leaves Knight 4.  What’re your thoughts on the illustrious Vulcan member of the Knights?”  

“Adequate.” She said simply.  “He is a highly proficient and by the book pilot, but he lacks the ability to understand and anticipate enemy actions, and compleatly predictable.  If it doesn’t fit neatly into a textbook he’s in trouble.”

To be continued…

Ming mulled over his executive officer’s opinion of the Knights one Vulcan officer.  He recounted what he had seen of the Silver Sehlat’s piloting.  

He said, “I’m not sure I would say it’s totally uninspired.  It might be better characterized as being locked into a logic-based extrapolation of existing tactics.  Humans and Andorians use a combination some logic with instincts and degrees of fear, fury and/or passion. It’s zig/zags and corkscrews versus right angles with occasional climbs or dives.  In the four fighter flights I’ve been in as well as the pre-fighter shuttle runs I’ve served with a few Vulcans.  Humans, Andorians, Trill, a handful of Tellarites with other Federation species here and there.  My parents taught me that observation can sometimes be as important and on occasion more important than action. Know your allies well and your enemies better is another one they hammered on.”

He chuckled, “I read Sun Tzu well before the Academy and have heard many paraphrases before that.  I found it very hokey when I was younger but as I got older I’ve found some interesting uses for it.  I digress however.  My point is there are a few paths toward the same end.  I had a few seminar courses my third and fourth year at the academy. I ultimately liked those courses as there were some very interesting counterpoints.  Some arguments made more sense to me than mine.   It was a rarity but it happened.” 

Sh’iv just shrugged. “Perhaps I am allowing my people’s bias against the Pointed… the Vulcans to influence my opinion. I will never admit I am without fault. I have room to improve. I get hyper focused on an enemy and I get tunnel vision.  I am reluctant to admit defeat and pull out of a rapidly worsening situation.  But, when I am able to step back and see the larger picture I will be more conservative. It’s a contradiction I know. One I fight every day to find balance between.” 

“James Tiberius Kirk once said that he didn’t believe in no win scenarios.   Frankly I don’t either.   It’s a matter of seeing or not seeing all the options.  Bias, like many other things, is a mindset.  I was taught it was a lack of objective thinking. It’s an ability that doesn’t rid one of bias.  It allows one to step away from bias long enough to get a clearer view of things.  I thought it was philosophical bullshit when I was younger.  I was surprised as hell when I realized that it was a truth as well as a reality,” Ming said musingly.   

Marcus exhaled and shook his head.  He continued, “Anyway. that is something that we’ll be working out.  Flight debriefing at 1200 hours tomorrow in the pilots briefing room.  Barring a livelier discussion than I expect we’ll put theory into practice in drills. We don’t need to start thinking like each other however we need to become more in sync as a flight.  More anticipatory when it comes to our flight mates.    It may not be easy but it is doable.”

Sh’iv shrugged, “I’ll take your word for it sir.”

Ming had heard similar wording and tone.  It’s translation was in the ballpark of either “The old man is clueless” or “The boss is a complete idiot.”  He wasn’t hurt or offended.  It likely happened as far back in the Roman Empire and before.   

Looking thoughtfully at his XO he said, “Any other ideas on how to smooth things out other than exchanging out pilots?  Honestly there’s not anybody that has done anything near bad enough to warrant relieving them of duty as a Knight.  No negligence, the skill is there, the will is there but the cohesion apparently could use some work.” 

She thought for a long moment and with a slight shrug, “I don’t know sir.” 

Marcus looked at Sh’iv thoughtfully for a brief moment before saying, “We’ll set up some holodeck simulation drills for tomorrow at 0900 hours ship time to get more practice in and get some evaluations in.  If it turns out more work is needed we’ll get on it.  Otherwise some extra drill time to keep everyone on their toes won’t hurt. We’ll assess things as needed tomorrow though.  Any questions or thoughts on the matter before that gets set up XO?”

She tapped her chin, “Just unit cohesion drills.”

“That’ll be a focus if not THE focus.  For starters I plan to have you as element leader with Jenna and T’Kown in tow while I observe.  After the initial assessment I plan to jump in with Abara for flight drills with the whole team.  If things are as you say we can start working on fixing it depending on any patterns we see….or don’t see.”

“That sounds like a fair plan,” the Andorian pilot replied.  “Leadership is probably not my best skill so that will give me a chance to work on that.” 

“As the Terran saying goes, ‘You have to start somewhere.’  I will send out the communication out shortly.  Any other questions or comments on the matter?  If not you’re dismissed and I will see you in the morning,” Ming said amiably with a slight smile.

“No sir.”

“Very well then.  Barring any alerts you are dismissed until tomorrow.  Enjoy the rest of the day, XO,” Marcus said with an amiable but dismissive nod.   

Sh’iv snapped to attention.  “Thank you sir.” With a smart about-face she strode out of the office. 

Duty over for the day, Gus had scheduled a holodeck session. He’d left the door unlocked in case anyone else wanted to use the same range for ranged weapons practice. Since he was the first to arrive, he took the opportunity to make some noise. The all metal semiautomatic 10mm barking in his hands, making the steel plates ring and topple as he moved between the fighting positions. With safety protocols on, ear and eye protection wasn’t really needed but Gus wore them anyway. It was a bad habit to teach yourself was his thought. Since it was the holodeck, Gus asked for a dozen more loaded magazines and prepared to run the course again, though he asked the computer to change the plate postions for the next run, which he ran in quick fashion.  

Collins had heard about the training session, so he headed to the holodeck and entered. His ears rang from the sound of the ammo hitting the metal plates.

Setting Michael enter the range, Gus set the guns on the table, muzzles downrange. When the range went cold, he took out the bright orange hearing plugs. “Lieutenant, are you considering cross training today?” The pair hadn’t really spoken much after the debriefing. 

“Considering what happened last mission, I thought doing some more training is not the worse idea.” replied Collins. He went over to the table and looked at the weapons. “Impressive array of weapons you have here.”Gus tilted his head in a nod as thank you to Michael. 

“I find it somewhat ironic that taming a two-kilo pistol accurately under limited duress relieves stress.” He said, then added, “the mission could have gone far worse. We were lucky, Sir. As a Vulcan, I do not believe in luck of course.” Gus said with a slight tilt of one eyebrow suggesting doubt existed.

Picking up a nearby compound bow, Gus told the computer to change the targets. There were 10 inch steel plates, the inner four inches had an insert, colored red. “Many ways exist to silently kill an enemy at distance. Bows, crossbows, blowdarts, silenced, and airguns The trick is you have to be very accurate. Stringing the first broadhead, it pierced near the center, making no noise. The second Gus deliberately hit the outer circle, the noise was similar to a bell, with the broadhead punching through steel target. “Miss THAT target, the enemy is still alive and capable of raising the alarm.” 

Collins nodded. “I understand that. May I try the bow?”“Of course.” Viat offered. “He had the computer add the forearm protector for Collins. ”This is a normal 70-pound draw weight compound bowd. About the upper limit of might pass for a general issue weight.” 

Collins picked up an arrow, laid it near the bowstring, used two fingers to start pulling the bow back, aimed at a target, took a breath and held it, then he released the arrow and let it fly.The arrow nicked just inside where the red inner target started. It wasn’t loud, but it might have attracted attention in a normal, quiet corridor. “There are patterns for 5 round arrow magazines, though perhaps a crossbow or air rifle might be a better option. Especially since archery isn’t normally practiced” Gus offered. Changing gears, he also added, “Lieutenant, you once asked me why I was different from other Vulcans. Their inability to show and properly communicate feelings and emotions does not make them logical. Emotion is not the opposite of logic. Not all Vulcans choose to stunt emotional literacy. Though it is not something the logical ones amongst my people agree with and sometimes looked upon in a negative connotation. “

“That certainly makes you different, but does it make you better?” Collins put down the bow and picked up a sniper rifle. He held it up, looked at it from different angles, brought it up, and adjusted the scope. “Nice feel.”“Built integral supressor. Runs in compressed air. Fires a 325grain .429 inch pellet at 1050 feet per second. Quite deadly, quite quiet. 5 round rotary magazine.” Gus offered

Collins brought the rifle up, sighted one of the targets, and fired all 5 rounds quickly. The group at 25 meters could nearly be covered with a closed fist. “I think we have a winner, but let’s run it up the chain, and offer to present a demonstration to our Romulan allies.” Viat offered to Collins. 

“Hopefully the powers that be will be impressed by my skills.” Collins put the rifle down.

Ming hadn’t forgotten the adventure on the Xoval and his candid but informative and pleasant conversation with Captain Talon on the matter.  He was genuinely pleased with the success of the mission despite the handful of flaws in the execution.  One of which was the Cardassian he disabled but was unable to capture due to the rush to escape.  

Captain Talon had cited the operational safety of the mission and crew as being the reason it was good there were no prisoners.  He still disagreed with that aspect.  The unconscious Cardassian officer could’ve been fireman carried to the Xoval and kept under with tranquilizers or similar until they got home after which the brig and interrogations would be in order.  He knew that there was no point arguing the matter and he hoped there would be other opportunities. While he was happy being a pilot his theoretical knowledge of the Intelligence world gave him some knowledge of the field.  He also had a few electives in that field while at Starfleet Academy as a tribute to his gramps.

The fact he had no idea how much useful information they captured, if at all, was either in and of itself or in aggregate with other resources, itched incessantly in his mind.  It didn’t hurt to ask in most cases.  He looked out the window of his office at the busy flight bay mulling things over as he did so for about a minute before tapping his combadge and saying, “Lt. Ming to Commander Nalam.  Do you have time to talk shop in say….30 minutes?”

Riandri sat in her office going through the recordings and logs of what had transpired aboard the Denver while he was in the Dominion POW camp. The thought of the changeling moving around the ship, using her things and pretending to be her still sent shivers up her spine and made her feel violated in a way she hadn’t expected. She was out to rewatch the final log from the changeling for the umpteenth time when her combadge chimed and Lt. Ming’s voice came over it, “Lieutenant, I would be happy to. I could use a break from this anyway. Shall I meet you in your office?”

Ming was a bit surprised at her offer but it seemed like she wanted to stretch her legs  He replied, “Sounds good   I’ll see you in a little bit.”

The flight commander of the Knights straightened his desk some and pulled up the notes he had on the Xoval mission.  Nothing classified to his knowledge and he had a heavy encryption on it either which way.   He opted to review the notes and compare them to his memory while he waited.

About thirty minutes later Riandri found herself at the door to Lieutenant Ming’s office. She reached out to press the door and chimed then stopped as the whole situation seemed so odd to her. Only a few days ago it wouldn’t have been her but the changeling standing here while she was being tortured by the Dominion. Shaking the feeling off she pressed the door chime and waited for the response. 

Ming stood up and said, “Enter!”

Riandri let out an involuntary sigh as she quickly adjusted her uniform and ran her hand through her hair trying to smooth it back but realizing at the same time that she had likely messed it up even more before stepping through the door, “Afternoon Lieutenant.” She took a quick glance around the office before turning to look at Ming, “So, how are things?” 

“Could be worse. Still reeling a bit over the losses at Betazed.  Nothing like seeing your last command blow up followed by 3/5th of your former wing.  I lost a lot of close friends that day.  Many folks did sadly.  Luckily the Knights came back.  One of them and one of the surviving Rangers took some rather severe radiation but should recover.  In the meantime my wingman from the Rangers was able to step in as Knight 5 for the moment.  At least we were able to hit back with the Xoval operation,” Ming said in a manor a touch more like reporting in than conversation.

Riandri grimaced slightly at the thought of Betazed, “It was a bad day, no question about it but as you say we hit them where it hurt with the last mission; saved a fair few as well, including my own, and who knows how many would have died when the fleet attacked the shipyard.” She grabbed a seat and relaxed slightly, shifting to get comfortable, “Not to mention what could have happened if the shapeshifter hadn’t been uncovered. That was just pure luck, they must have had a breakdown in communication otherwise I never would have been at that prison.” she paused for a moment, “I have already found a couple of little, let us call them, mistakes in reports that were submitted. Nothing major but if given enough time it could have let  lead to SFI making mistakes that would have been bad for the Federation.”

Marcus had heard of the shape shifter scenario and it just furthered his resolve to do whatever he could to help the Federation / Klingon / Romulan Alliance war effort to thump the Dominion.  He added that to the laundry list of reasons he wanted an overall victory.

“I heard of your not so little adventure. Bastards….Another set of reasons to drive the Dominion back into their corner of the galaxy I’d say,” added the Knight’s CO more conversationally but with a little more heat.  

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Riandri said. “It isn’t a great feeling knowing a changeling was living your life.”

“Not exactly a two day leave on Risa I’d venture to guess.  I’m sorry that we both had to endure what we did.  At the risk of sounding dark and/or pragmatic I’m tempted to say that it’s the theoretical joys of war,” Ming said looking especially bland at that last part in something resembling a deadpan delivery.

He actually did smile a bit as he went on gesturing to the two faux leather chairs on the far side of the desk for him, “Anyway, have a seat if you’d like.  The office might be slightly utilitarian in an austere but I did make sure at least the seats were comfortable.”   

Riandri nodded in acknowledgement and took a seat, “Thanks.” After a moment she continued, “So, what was it you wanted to speak about?”

Marcus sat as well then took a breath before starting, “Well, as I suspect you’ve learned, the Xoval mission got very ‘interesting’ you might say.  We got out of there with some varying levels of luck and skill.  The facility getting destroyed was a blow to the Dominion for sure.   There was a primary data dump and a secondary grab of data rods however.  I happened to grab a vast majority of the data rods myself.  I’d hoped to drag a Glin I knocked out along with us for interrogation down the road but ….  Other operational considerations took priority to my dismay.” 

He paused taking another breath to allow for processing (and perhaps a bit for presentation) more than the necessity before going on, “Realizing I’m likely not privvy to what was captured I suppose I was wanting to ensure that at least some of what we captured information wise was worth it.”

Riandri nodded in understanding, “I have read the report, both the official one and the unedited version. The mission was a clear success but it did go sideways and I think everyone did the best that could have been expected of them.” She paused for a moment and took a deep breath before continuing, “I am aware of the potential to capture the Cardassian soldier and how his capture would have saved his life. The loss of any life is unfortunate but I do believe the right calls were made. Any delay could have resulted in the station detonating while the team was still on board.” She gave Ming a slight smile suspecting that the words didn’t help to alleviate the feelings he had, feels she could relate to having been in similar situations in the past.

“As for the data, all of it has been passed up the line for in-depth review and analysis. I was able to go through only a small amount before we transferred it but it appeared to be good intel. The top level information, which isn’t classified showed that there were several Galor and Keldon class cruisers docked for repair with several more nearing completion, not to mention a dozen or so Gem’Hadar fighters docked. All of these were destroyed. That alone made it worth the effort.”

Ming chuckled softly and said, “I’ve had a friend named Joel since we were kids.  He often teased me for being an overachiever.  That if I didn’t nail every aspect of a project, mission, or test I wasn’t happy.  Here I’ve been rather hoping for another infiltration mission so I’d have another crack at a live capture for interrogation.  It’s unreasonable I realize.  That doesn’t negate the desire however.”

Riandri smiled softly at that, “I would not expected that from a fighter pilot, if I am honest. I have been on several such raids and it is harder than you might expect to capture a prisoner.” As she did she couldn’t help but think back to her time on the Dawnbringer before she joined the Denver, “The lives of your team always come first.” 

He tilted his head as he added, “I got friendly with a professor of intelligence operations at the Academy.  He ALMOST convinced me to switch from the path I took.  I never entirely got it out of my system I suppose.” 

“Well, next time it is needed, I would be happy to have you sit in and observe if you like. It is never to late to make a career shift,” Riandri said with a smirk.

“Absolutely.  If nothing else, acquiring more skills will make me a bigger asset to the Fleet.  And if I do eventually decide to switch to the fleet’s intelligence services as my primary role it’d not be the first time anyone switched in-between departments. Either which way I look forward to getting some more exposure to if not experience in the field,” Marcus replied with a small smile.  

Riandri smiled, “I will let you know.” She stood up and made for the door then paused and looked back, “Thanks for the chat by the way, it was…” She looked lost for words for a moment, “a nice distraction. I appreciated it.” 

Marcus stood with Riandri and smiled at her words.  He told her with surprising sincerity, “I’m glad.  The feeling is mutual.  Hopefully we can find more to talk about soon.”

“Agreed, see you soon,” with that, Riandri left and made her way back to the office thinking about the never-ending challenges of the war.

Even since the initial flurry and attacks that followed the entry of the Romulans into the war the Dominion had pulled back into Cardassia. Wars tended to do that. Periods of intense hot and cold actions.  

The Denver was assigned a remote sector along the border to patrol. The ship had been in the thick of some of the War’s most devastating actions from Tyra to Betazed. Someone in Command must have decided they needed a break.  While Rebecca was thankful for it there was still the threat of the Dominion looming over them, and she would have preferred to just get it over with. 

A sound of alarms filled the bridge. Rebecca shot out of her seat, “Report.” A cacophony of beeps emanated from ops.  Lieutenant Jowita Przybyszewska turned to face the Captain.

“Long range sensors ‘ave detected something in a nearby system, it looks like a warp explosion,” she explained.

“Captain, records show that is the Luphira System.” Cezear quickly read through the data on his screen. “According to this they were at a pre-warp technology level. “ as he turned back toward the captain. 

Rebecca turned to Cezear, “Pre-warp? Ms. Jones set course for the Luphira system. Mr. Beattie, I want a full report on that system. Ms. Przybyszewska analyze that explosion.”

“Captain, According to the latest data. The Luphirians were still using solid-state propulsion systems and a rudimentary impulse drive technology. “ Cezear added.

“I can confirm this Captain. The latest intelligence from SFI matches this also. If they were close to achieving warp drive, we would have an observation satellite in orbit. Command is keeping an extra close eye on such civilizations,” Riandri said from one of the all-purpose consoles don’t the bridge as she shook her head. “They should not have access to that level of technology.”

Rebecca nodded, “I think this deserves a look. Ms. Jones; time to the Luphira System?”

Calculations already run, Arin offered, “Warp 9? 5 hour, 21 minutes, Captain.” She the algorithm plugged in should the needs arise for change in velocity.

“Cezear,  Jowita,  get us a full report on everything Starfleet knows about these people.”

“Yes, Captain.” Jowita’s console resumed its incessant beeping as she went to work.

“Sending it to your PADD, Captain.” as he typed on his main console. 

“Riandri,  you have the bridge commander.” Rebecca retreated into her ready room leaving the crew to their orders. 

Riandri nooded as stood up and strolled to the Captain’s chair, “The Bridge is mine ma’am. I will update you when we are close to the Luphira System.”

Bridge: 15:00 hours – Luphira System….

The Denver dropped out of warp and headed for the fourth planet in the system.  It was a nondescript ball of blue, no different from countless other Class M planets all over the galaxy. 

“Captain, showing a few hundred million life signs, looks to be Post-industrial technology’” Cezear quickly begins to type and adjust his main console. “Jowita, can you confirm this on your scans? Something is not right.”

The Pole peered quizzically at her screens. “Dere is technology dat should not be dere… materials analysis, power signatures… it’s…” she turned and looked directly at the Captain. “…Cardassian,” she finished with tones of confused wonderment.

“Captain, I can confirm that. What’s more I’m reading signs and of a powered down cardassian warp core coming from a city in their northern hemisphere.”

“So a pre-warp civilization just made the leap into interstellar travel thanks to our Cardassian friends. Suggestions?”  Rebecca crossed her arms and stared at the planet below on the viewscreen.

“Captain, I don’t think its going to be that easy. Scans are showing that the explosion was on the planets surface, not in orbit.” the image on the main view screen switched to a city that is now rubble and ruins. “Looks like the explosion emeinated from this point here. Half that city is just gone.” as he typed on his console and the image zooms in. “They may have been trying to reverse engineer the cardassian warp core.”

“That complicates things doesn’t it?  They are experimenting in a technology they are not ready for, but experimenting nonetheless.  That cat is out of the bag, and we aren’t going to easily shove it back in.” Rebecca observed.  “This is were the Prime Directive is a little less clear.”

“If dis is Cardassian technology den dey are already aware of Alien civilizations in de Galaxy and like you said we cannot stop de technological contamination. But maybe we could render assistance in proper use of de technology to prevent more distasters?” Jowita suggested. “Look at it like a humanitarian mission, perhaps?”

Riandri frowned as she looked over the data coming, “I would have to agree on this. Some of their people, their leaders, scienists and most likely military,  are clearly aware of the Cardassians at least. I would assume a ship went down on the planet so they could have alot of information about the various powers.” She paused and thought back to events over five decades before when she was travelling, she had seen first hand the damage advanced technology could do in the hands of less developed races. “They will have limited experience handling the fall out of such a blast, we should render aid and whatever guidance we can.”

“Can we disguise an away team to assess the situation directly? Or should we just locate their leadership and make ourselves known?  I think we have a moral imperative mitigate the contamination one way or another.”

“For starters, let us assume a few things. They may not be smart, but they are smart enough to build a warp core. That makes this first contact, regardless of where it came from. Also, what are the chances they don’t have Cardassian bodies or even prisoners?  We need more information. Class 5 intelligence probe. Beyond that, this is purely aid. They need help.” Arin offered.

“Launch a probe.” Rebecca ordered.  “We’re operating in the blind here. Any information will be helpful.  Doctor Haigh there are likely mass casualties around the accident site. Prepare your department.”

The unamused drawl of the Doctor came over the bridge speakers. “Acknowledged.”

The probe launched and  started to scan the planet below with its specialized sensors. Data flowed into the operations station.

“It will take a moment to run de comm chatter trough de universal translator…” Jowita kept everyone updated as new information was collected and analysed in basic form. “Dere is considerable trace matter from the explosion in the atmosphere, smoke and dust from destroyed buildings, plus trace amounts of coolant compounds and non-naturally occurring substances, duranium, titanium, scans suggest dey do not commonly use dese materials. De residual warp signature is Cardassian, but dere are some small differences. Materials analysis near ground zero suggests remnants of a Cardassian ship, but de blast has thrown wreckage for miles, we will probably never know what type. Dere is no discernable damage to subspace. Analysis of the blast zone based on population density of de rest of de city and de radius, casualty assessment is running into de tens of thousands. Com chatter…” Jowita waited a moment for the computer to finish, “…suggests de hospitals are overwhelmed, de city has declared a state of emergency. Dere are no satellites in orbit dat would obviously be able to detect us Captain, dey are all pre-warp and mostly for planetary communication.”

Rebecca tapped her chin and then with decision, “Ms. Nalam assemble an away team.  Get with the doctor and organize medical relief. Ms. Przybyszewska, see if you can locate where their leader is. It appears it’s time for first contact. Collins alert the tactical recon team. I want them stuck to the away team like glue. Last thing we need is to lose people in a humanitarian mission.”

“It will take a few moments for de computer to store and parse de comms data,” Jowita said, her attention on her console. “I will let you know when we have a location.”

Rebecca gave the ops officer a curt nod, “Thank you.”

Riandri stood and nodded to the captain, “Right away; Collins and Beattie, you’re with me. I will let the good doctor know what is needed.”

“Aye.” Collins rushed out to grab his gear before they left. Jowita spoke up from her console.”Captain, we have a probable location on de leader, but only within a few miles. It is close to ground zero in what appears to be de Capital, called Delos.

Rebecca nodded, “Very well.  Why don’t you accompany the away team. There’s likely to be a need for someone with a more technical mindset.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Jowita stood quickly and departed the bridge, smiling to Lieutenant T’Leya who took over the station as she left. She hadn’t been anticipating this order, an opportunity for an away-mission was always an exciting diversion from ship operations.

Riandri made her way to the turbo lift and tapped her combadge; “Commander Nalam to Doctor Haigh. We have a medical emergency and need to pull together humanitarian relief can you get your team ready?”

Lavender had been monitoring bridge activity and comms since the explosion was detected from her office in Sickbay. She was expecting such a request and had prepared as much as she could, although the scale of the problem was going to be overwhelming. Sickbay staff buzzed around preparing in the rooms outside.

“It’ll be a drop in the ocean,” she replied to the X.O. “but we’ll do what we can.”

Riandri sighed understanding the truth in that statement before she responded, “Very true, but for those whom it helps will mean the world; or the ocean in a drop if I continue the metaphor. Do what you can Doctor. We will be beaming down from transporter room 1 in 20 minutes.”

In her office Lavender sighed as she stood from her desk.

“See you there, sickbay out.”

Riandri tapped her com badge off just as the lift came to a stop, stepping off she made her way to her office to grab a couple of quick items she thought may be of use before making her way to transporter room 1. She arrived to find herself alone with only a couple of minutes to spare before the scheduled departure time. “Early bird gets the worm I guess,” she muttered to herself as the door opened behind her. Lavender swept into the room, phaser on her belt and a med-pack slung over her shoulder.

“My team is preparing,” she explained, without offering a greeting. “Hopefully we can co-ordinate with whoever’s in charge down there and send them where they can do most good.”

Riandri smiled at that, “Agreed, this will be delicate though as it is also a first contact situation. We know they have had some interactions with the Cardassians but not sure to what extent. Could have been a crashed ship for all we know or a rogue faction. We need to tread carefully.”

“Fortunately your Doctor is known for her tact and diplomacy so you’ll be just fine,” Lavender observed, wryly.

Riandri smirked as she glanced at the doctor, “I am sure it will be.”

Collins arrived in the transporter room, carrying what gear and weapons he thought he would need.

Riandri nodded towards Collins, “Got everything you need? We aren’t going to war but then again who knows what we will find. Is the Tactical Team ready?”

“One should always be prepared when going into a potently hostile situation.” Collins paused. “The Tac Team is ready.”

Lt. Przybyszewska entered the transporter room, a phaser clipped to her uniform.

“Captain asked me to join,” she explained.

“Great, I think that is everyone for now but I expect we will have the rest of the medical team and possibly additional security joining us shortly,” Riandri said as her expression became serious. “We have identified their front-line field hospital and will beam down there, hopefully with the go-ahead from their leadership. I am hopeful that the offer of assistance will not result in a hostile reaction but if it does be ready and we will beam out right away.”

She looked at each of them for a moment, “Any final questions?”

Everyone shook their heads.

A few moments later her combadge chimed and Commander Jeter’s voice came over the com, “Nalam, you have been given permission to land but the information may take time to trickle down so be careful. They are going to be on edge.”

Riandri nodded in silent understanding before responding, “Thanks for the confirmation. We are beaming down now. Nalam out.”

She turned back to the other, “Everyone on the pad, let’s go.”

Varael Stormclaw paced.  It wasn’t a behavior he usually engaged in. His all-black fur now showed speckles of gray, though his gold eyes shone bright and sharp. Walking into the breezeway, he moved to the inside arboretum. Thousands of scents entered his nose. To humans, it would be the equivalent of white noise. Varael’s mind relaxed slightly. 

It reminded him of the old cliche, ‘May you have interesting adventures.’ Several things were converging, and his people needed to be wary. The crashed ship yielded secrets and mysteries his people were still unraveling and likely would be for a decade or more. Not only were the Luphirians not alone, but the aliens that crashed were advanced. The intentions of said aliens were in dispute among most council members. Some believed it was a failed invasion, pointing to the armory and antimatter warheads discovered on board. Others weren’t convinced as the tech was advanced and external damage had been observed. Plus, what could they want from their planet? 

When the next ship showed up, it seemed inevitable. How Luphirians accommodated themselves in these next few years could determine their fate in the now more crowded galaxy. 

Varael ordered the designs. schematics and equipment should be equally shared between tribes. It spurred the rapid development and reverse-engineered indigenous first-generation tricorders, disruptors, and even replication on a massive industrial scale. 

They had gotten into things only partially understood with the incident in the Southern desert. Learning at this level, like the early atomic programs not that many decades ago for the Luphirians, could be fatal on an entirely new level. 

General Swiftclaw and Colonel Ironfang approached the Alpha Sentinel. The general bowed his head in an act of submission. “Pardon me, sir, there has been an incident.” Swiftclaw had soft reddish-brown fur that tipped black at a pair of ears, one of which was missing a large chunk.   Grey fur was coming in on his muzzle.

Pausing for a contemplative second, Varael turned around to face his cabinet. “What is it?” He said, asking them to continue the report. 

The two officers glanced at each other.  “Delos City is gone,” the general announced.

Varael pondered the words. “Gone? What do you mean gone?!” Every word not spoken angered Varael more. Baring his teeth slightly, he said, “Tell me the whole story.” he offered to both of them, then added, “Be very glad I am more civilian these days than your commanding officer. Your reporting skills need practice.”

“We mean exactly that.  The FTL test was unsuccessful, and the warp engine exploded, pulling a large amount of matter into sub-space. At the same time, matter outside the warp bubble was annihilated.” The General didn’t back down from the challenge and exposed the tips of his own canines.

Varael softened somewhat without backing down as he sprung into action. “Your tact needs work.” He said, walking back to his office as the officers followed him. “Scramble all available medical personnel and army for support if you haven’t already. Establish a safety perimeter and whatever the scientists tell you. Add twenty-five percent. We need a buffer.”

“It will be done as you command,” The General said bowing his head a placing his fist over his heart in salute.

Varael returned the salute. Turning around, he walked behind the desk to sit down.

The two military officers turned a marched out of the office with their orders.  They closed the door behind them and then there were orders shouted as they assembled the necessary resources to fulfill the Alpha Prime’s request.

The office fell silent again, and Vareal was alone. A whine broke the silence and the office was bathed in a bright blue light. From that light four strange looking aliens materialized before his very eyes. One of them with an impressive mane,  the color of the red rocks of Thalor, stepped forward with its paws open in a gesture that could be interpreted as a sign of non-threat.

“My name is Captain Rebecca Talon of the United Federation of Planets,” it spoke in a high pitched tone that sounded nothing like a Luphirian, yet Varael could understand every word spoken.  “These are my officers; Lt. Commander Jeter, Counselor Qetax. and Ensign Viat.”

The joined Trill Counselor smiled, “Greetings, I’m Emimi Qetax. It’s an honor to meet you.”

She did not get into how she was both a Trill and a joined one at that. It was likely enough to process having so many varied individuals beam down at one time, and she figured that her spots likely spoke for her uniqueness as much as she could have.

Jeter, tilted his head to the side slightly and smiled without showing any teeth and nodded slightly to Varael, “Sorry for the rather abrupt intrusion, we come in peace.” As he said it he couldn’t help laugh inwardly as he had always wanted to say that line.

Varael’s eyes narrowed as he stood behind the desk. Initially, he considered it an elaborate hoax on his person—one in incredibly bad taste. The room was set up, so the desk was always downwind. It was all smoke and mirrors until he smelled the new, nearly hairless ones. 

They did smell different from the original beings with cranial ridges. Unsure if they could be from other places. but he’d also seen young pups mutilate themselves with tattoos or cropping their ears. The encounter suit Varael wore hid the fact that his whole body was on edge. Hackles raised in response.

After they spoke, he was unsure but knew his people were out of their depth, especially considering the catastrophe. Gathering his thoughts and courage, “I must say your timing is interesting, to say the least. I am Varael Stormclaw. Alpha Sentinel of the Luphirian Tribal Council. I speak for the pack.” 

Emimi Qetax remained still, preferring to let the Commanding Officer take the lead in the immediate negotiations. She had made her presence known, and was willing to offer advice when needed but was not about to throw her weight around or her experience. Most joined trills had learned that not all experience was worth sharing and other species found it annoying when you kept bringing up past lIves in places they were not directly applicable.

“Well, it isn’t a coincident Alpha Sentinel if that is your preferred title. We detected the explosion and were surprised, given your level of development. We understand the damage such a blast could inflict. We came to offer aid and what help we can,” Jeter said as he took in the reactions of the Luphiran.

Not missing the catch in that sentence, Varael bristled a bit, then chuckled. “Our level of development,” he repeated. “Isn’t that a polite way to say, how did you build that?!” He walked around closer to the group, genuinely curious. Scent was such an essential sense for Luphirians. Varael wondered how the newcomers smelled anything with such tiny noses. “Call me Stormclaw. You probably guessed part of the puzzle. We know enough to be dangerous now, which is most likely why you are here.” He paused. “Since you understand our language, I imagine you’ve been listening to our transmissions and know about the ship that crashed last season. It provided as many mysteries as it did answers. Boosting our leap to the stars. A journey to the star is compelling, is it not, Captain? The venture into the unknown.”

“Dangerous…” Rebecca repeated letting it percolate.  “Yes, moving in this direction when you aren’t ready is dangerous, but thay particular bell has been rung and now we are here to mitigate the damage the contamination has created.”

Thinking of the potential for upcoming aid, Varael said, “From the heart of the pack, thank you, Captain. After the first nearly furless ones crashed in their starship, I expected more to arrive.” While the pheromones he detected were unfamiliar, Varael wasn’t sensing anything but normal anxiety, mostly his own. “Our people are smart, Captain. Though the popping in is something I must prepare them for.”

“The others should not have come here, but they do not adhere to our Prime Directive.” Rebecca added.

Genuinely curious, Varael asked the group, “How common are such events? Cities obliterated. A great wound for my planet and my people. ” Though his question was dual purpose. He needed to know how far he could trust this group.

Rebecca looked at the others to confirm her coming statement,  “From an accident like this? I am unaware of it happening in my lifetime. At times of war… unfortunately, it’s far too common.” She felt honesty was the best course here, even if it could cause a level of fear. However, the truth of the matter was: the strategic implications were obvious and skirting it could be seen as deceptive. 

Reading body language was something nearly genetic to a Luphirian. He had seen enough interaction to know that very little was scripted. While the newcomers weren’t his race, Varael had  “Captain and others; while time is of the essence, join me in a small drink to this historic occasion. Walking to an ornate wooden bar, he took down one of several large leather bladders. “This is from a vine we call the hate berry that lives on the edge of the western desert. I think the name lives on because drinking too much will make you hate yourself the following day.” He said with a chuckle. Opening the top of the flexible bladder, Varael deftly aimed at his mouth, taking a long pull of the fermented beverage. He then passed it to the Captain first. “Perhaps there is more we can share than just a drink.”

Rebecca took the bladder, hesitated and squeezed a mouthful.  She wouldn’t normally drink alcohol,  but in a situation such as this discretion was probably the better part of valor. She handed the pouch behind her for one of the others to take a drink. 

Jeter took it and gave it a quick sniff before a smile spread across his face. “Smells nice. I guess a little sip wouldn’t go amiss.” With that he squeezed out a mouthful and swallowed. “Thank you Stormclaw, I wouldn’t mind getting a bottle or two to that myself.”

Following suit Qetax took the bladder and took a swig. She was not a drinker of liquor, human or Trill or otherwise, but she managed to keep a straight face and not show how much she disliked it. She knew the science behind intoxication and that such a small amount would have no effect on her or the symbiotic bonding process, but she hoped there would be no further occasions that she would have to be ‘tough’ or whatever this proved.

”It is a taste I will not soon forget,” she said wanting to balance honesty with being sensitive.

“We have an obligation to help you on a humanitarian basis,  but I hope you do not expect an exchange of technology and any more information than you absolutely need. Rest assured under normal circumstances we wouldn’t be here. It is put people’s highest command not to interfere with the natural development of a civilization.  Unfortunately your civilization has been contaminated, and it is my intention to unring that bell as much as possible.”

“I understand and agree with that nearly unanimously. I wasn’t expecting to do anything but bury the pack more than a few handfuls of minutes ago. My people are already crawling around the moon and nearby planets, so the attraction of an interstellar craft was irresistible. Could you say your people would have let something like that sit if you were swapping places?” Varael asked. 

Jeter nodded at that, understanding exactly where the Luphirians were coming from. “I can honestly say Humans, our race,” he said gesturing at the Captain and Ensign Viat, “would have done the same as you. but that doesn’t change the fact that the arrival, well crash, of the Cardassian ship catapulted you decades or even centuries ahead in the development. As you can now understand that are great risks associated with that. The damage from an antimatter explosion is nothing to make light of.” He passed for a moment before continuing, “You mentioned the nearly furless, were there any survivors? Anything you can tell us about them?” He gave the Captain a glance as thoughts of possibly recovering the ship’s core crossed his mind. 

“We interned them since most were less than cooperative. Maybe not the smartest move, but they are well treated.” Varael said honestly. “They are allowed, under watch, access to any part of our society they want to. So far, not many have left the settlement we set aside for them.” He paused momentarily, “May I say I find them a disharmonious people. Perhaps it is just a clash of personalities. However, I do not sense the same discordance here.  Though you may be more on your best manners.”

Jeter glanced at the Captain for a moment before looking back to Varael, “I am glad to hear they have been treated well. “Would we be able to see them if possible?”

Rebecca who had been silent considering things spoke to Varael’s original question, “To be honest with you, when my people were in your position we were too busy killing each other in a world war. It took first contact with another species,  the Vulcans, for humans to finally put aside our differences. And as Mr.Jeter said, I would like to visit them as well.”

“Then we shall go see the Others.” Back to Jeter’s point, Varael offered, “Not that we haven’t had our wars, Commander Jeter, but the harmony of the pack is more important. This incident appears to be a catalyst for us as well.” Walking to the desk, Varael deftly punched a button. “Elara, have Saariq bring my vehicle out front. We have guests.”

“At once, Varael.” Elara answered through the speaker, wondering when someone had slipped past her. 

Turning to the Captain, Varael offered. “Perhaps they will be happier to see you than they were to see us.”

Jeter’s hid a cringe at that comment, ‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that…’ he thought to himself. He took a deep breath as he glanced out the window, “We appreciate that, I also wanted to let you know that a group of our doctors are ready to beam down to what we have identified as the front-line health facility in Delos City with first aid materials to help the injured. I am aware that their arrival may cause a but of a surprised but before they go down I wanted to ask for your permission first. Perhaps if, allowed you could inform the local officials to avoid any misunderstandings?”

Rebecca caught a flash of Jeter’s expression and smirked. She was fairly certain what he was thinking.  It was likely the same as her own. 

Varael saw the glance the officers exchanged. Having been a general officer most of his life as well as a politician, he knew they had information they were not willing to gleefully share. He filed that little tidbit away. It would be a far truer gauge of the newcomer’s worth.  He offered, “Having seen your pop into existence inside a building. There are structures nearby that will serve that purpose. Until my people get more use to that. Perhaps that would be better. Follow me to the conference room. We can open the planetary network from there. 

Rebecca and the rest of the Starfleet delegation followed Varael down the corridor.  She noted the armed security that fell in behind them.  They held a respectful distance, but were well within the ability to to defend their leader if it should come to that. Gus spoke for the first time. “Captain, perhaps a shuttle team would be less intimidating initially. These people do possess sublight spacecraft. 

“I think anytime delays will cost more lives on the ground. If Commander Nalam has her team beam into, out of view, they can start working right away,” Jeter said as they made their way to the ground transport. “That said, Varael I would appreciate your thoughts on the matter.”

Thinking for a moment, Varael said, “Commander. You are quite right,” Varael replied, two stationary guards opening heavy double doors.  He added, “Since you are not our first alien visitor, this will be less of a shock.”Reaching the podium, a crew was already moving around, as were the others. “Tiza, I want a wide shot. These people have come to help—no secrets from the pack.” Tiza nodded, getting ready.

Lights came on, and the room went silent. “Great tribe. There has been a great tragedy in Delos City. While we don’t know the extent of the damage, this is the time to come together as a pack and heal. Also, we have other visitors that have come to help us. ” He said with a flourish of his hand. “Captain, can you say a few words, or any of your officers.”

“I would rather not,” she said under her breath. “Starfleet is going to have kittens over this.”  She gave Jeter an expression of tne condemned heading for the gallows. In front of the mic she took a deep breath, “You may call me Becca. As you can see I am not from this world.  I will not be answering questions,  but I will say I have dispatched medical,  and engineering personnel to help in Delos City. We will provide medical assistance to those in need along with basics such as food, water, and blankets to those in need. That is all.”  She stepped away from the podium in an attempt at  disappearing between her officers and the local security. 

Emimi Qetax stayed in the back and did not say anything. She was not particularly a public speaker, and more over they did not know much about the cultural relevance of therapists and counsellors that would make her feel confident speaking in front of such a large crowd. Many cultures, even ones that had them, found the idea of sharing your fears and other weaknesses to be yet another sign of weakness. Many cultures distrusted counsellors or did not like them. Thus it was better to remain silent, and leave her fellow officers who were better at this to do the speaking.

Once settled into the interior of the ground transport next to Jeter and across from Vareal she glanced at her strategic operations officer and took a deep breath. “Alpha Sentinel,” Rebecca started.  “You should know that we believe your uh… guests are Cardassian.  They are members of a vast Interstellar Empire known as the Dominion. We are currently at war with the Dominion.”

Jeter nodded in agreement, “There is no point hiding the fact as it would be apparent very quickly.” He watched the Luphirian’s face trying to guess what he might be thinking but found it hard to read before continuing, “The Dominion is currently working to subjugate this entire region of space, we, the Federation, went to war to stop that.”

Realization dawned on Varael’s face as he remembered the shared looks among the away team. “Very little escapes a Luphirian reading of body language. Deception is rare among the pack, as falsehoods damage the harmony of relationships. Thank you for finally telling me. It changes nothing from my perspective.”

“I do not want you to think we are a violent people,” Rebecca said with regret in her voice. “What the Cardassians… Uh, aliens will likely try to paint us as the villains.  Most of it will be lies, some the truth. We have made mistakes. Most of us with the best of intentions,  and some not so pure, but I promise I will be honest with you and as open as possible.”

“I can understand that,” Varael said casually. “Do not misread me, Captain. What I meant was nothing changes since either of you could easily overwhelm my people; it is quite apparent.” He paused as much for effect as thought. “My question to you is, why am I better off in your Federation hands than this Dominion?” 

“Hard to say,” she replied. “I guess that depends,  but if it were me I wouldn’t want to be subjects of the Dominion. If you are lucky they just tap your world for resources and bring you into the larger galactic community.  If you are unlucky they may deem you inferior and genetically modify you to make you their slaves.  If you are really unlucky they might wipe all life from this world and strip mine it bare to fuel their empire. The Federation will ignore you until you have attained your own warp drive. In that event, you will be able to choose your own destiny. If choose to join the Federation,  just know, you are not allowed to leave paradise.”

Jeter listened patiently while the Captain spoke to Varael before chiming, “As she said, we will leave you be until you are ready to join and that would be your choice.” He paused and looked out the window for a moment before looking back, “I know it is a lot to take in but we will answer any question you have to the best fo our ability.”

Varael spoke with intent but calmly. “I already felt the disharmony from your ‘Cardassians’. Slavery is an abomination and heresy against the whole of the pack. Time to see if have outgrown our Den. Capatin, our die is now cast. Please help us.” He said, addressing the entire away team.

Following a glance at the Captain, Gus and Emimi, Jeter nodded solemnly, “We will do what we can.”

Things had been busy around the Denver since the Xoval mission. It was a time of war however which made activity a necessity for a ship like the Denver.  The Nebula class had the dubious honor of being one of the most flexible mid range starships since Jonathan Archer was the president of the Federation. That was Ming’s professional opinion of course but he knew he wasn’t alone in this belief.  Others agreed.  Denver was the second Nebula class he served on and the years forged his high opinion of the class. 

He sighed as he made his way through the corridors of the USS Denver. War. William Tecumsa Sherman was right.  He once said, “There is many a boy here to-day who looks on war as all glory, but, boys, it is all hell.” 

The man knew his stuff Ming thought.  He wrote a major report on General Sherman for one of his classes to earn his minor during his final year at Starfleet Academy so he was well aware. Ming experienced it first hand.   

Ming stopped at the door of the office belonging to LT Emimi Qetax.  Her schedule had been reported by the computer as clear and he hoped it wasn’t wrong.  After taking a deep breath he activated the door chime. 

The Joined Trill was not sure if indigestion was part of the joining process. No, it was not really. Not in her memories of her past joinings, but she had it. Maybe, and more likely it had been lunch. She was dealing with that trying to cure it with tablets as opposed to a trip to sickbay, when her bell rang. Standing from her desk the said, “Open.”

Seeing Lieutenant Marcus Ming she smiled, “Hello, how may I help you?”

Marcus smiled and nodded, “I hope I am not interrupting.  The computer said you had some open time and I had hoped we could talk for a little while.  In an official capacity I mean.” 

The Councselor nodded, “Of course, I did not expect you meant otherwise.”

She set the tablet down on her desk and stood to properly welcome him into the office. The joined trill gestured to both a couch and a chair so that he could get comfortable however he felt most… well comfortable. A couch was often a little too much for patients at first, who associated it with intensive therapy.

”What did you want to talk about today?” Qetax asked.

Ming took a seat on the couch not even giving it a second thought.  He nodded gratefully to the Trill as he settled in with a look of intense thought in and around his eyes especially.  He said. “Well, the war.  Anyone who said it’s been easy is either a member of a warrior culture, a liar or else I’d have serious reservations about them.  I’d thought I had been managing it well.  Maybe I had been.  Until the Battle of Betazed. Since then I’ve been feeling like my emotional stability if not my sanity has been dancing on a razors edge. I’ve had doubts here and there but I’ve had more doubts and way too damned many night horrors since that day.” 

He took a deep breath before adding, “I have a holodeck session planned where I intend to recreate the Fort Tuthill recreational nature preserve outside of Flagstaff Arizona later today.  I had a lot of camping trips there growing up and it’s always been a place of serenity as well as relaxation for me.  I’d never doubted that until recently but I figured it’d be worth a try.” 

Qetax nodded, “I know the Battle of Betazed was hard. The physic discharge of Betazoid dying, that’s hard even for non-empathic species. Having a strong negative reaction to war, or a battle is not a reason to question your sanity though. I would be more concerned if you had no reaction, if you simple went on as if nothing was wrong.”

”I went to the Academy on Earth, but I was never at Arizonia tell me about it, and this Fort Tuthill. Did you grow up in Arizona?” Qetax hoped that her questions would get him thinking deeper about this place that had once been a source of relaxation for him, and maybe could be again. 

“The Knights were out in the middle of the fight.  We saw other Federation starships explode at close range.  Other fighters at various distances.  The last starship I served on destroyed within sensor range and at the edge of line of site.  Three of my former flight killed while I was trying to escort them to safety.  One was a good friend….The other was my former CO and….” Ming trailed off.  

He wondered if he should continue.  The skullduggery was eating at him which answered the question nanoseconds before he found himself continuing, “She was my lover for almost a year.   My wingman from the Knights and another of my former flight got severe radiation poisoning from either a new Dominion tactic or a damned unlucky shot that exploded in close proximity to both fighters.  The only saving graces were that nobody else was hurt, our wounded pilots should make a full…or nearly full…recovery, and the one member of Ranger Flight able to fly was my former wingman.  That was a bit more up close and personal than most other folks had to experience on the Denver.”    

Ming paused for a deep breath with a slow exhale.  He actually smiled a little as he went on, “New Berlin, Luna was my home growing up.  My father taught at National Taiwan University two days per week then at Nothern Arizona University two to three days a week.  The northern third of the state is rather high altitude for the region and mostly evergreens with certain areas having birch and aspen trees.   The southern two thirds are desert and reside a few thousand feet below the northern third.  Saguaros, Barrel Cacti and Prickly Pear cacti.  The fruits from the last has a sweet but tart flavor to it that I grew to love…Once I learned to peel the skin off which had small thorns on giving the cactus it’s name.  The paddles of that one are also edible if you shave off the thorns too.   I often struck out on my own to learn more about the history of the surrounding areas.   History was a love I learned to appreciate thanks to my father.  Some of that included some of the survival techniques of the ancient residents of much of the surrounding areas as well.”

Ming wrapped up the tale, “There was a recreational area not far from Northern Arizona University which started off as a United States Army training and rec area hence the name.  Toward the end of the 20th century / early 21st century it was turned over to the local government to administrate as a park and campground.  By the time I got to the Academy I’d found that I enjoyed camping at that camping area and did so when I could.  I had a lot of fun there and it was also quite relaxing to me.  If I needed to destress and have sort of an emotional reset that as a go to.  Has been ever since.”

The joined trill nodded, “Life can be, and Is, filled with pain. I have memories of enough lifetimes to know that even during a quiet and uncomplicated life there are moments of stress and loss. I have buried husbands and wives, and it never hurts less. To go through as much as you have in a short time, well I would not blame you for curling up and feeling defeated by life.”

”Yet here you are, one of life’s survivors. I can’t promise an end to your pain, but I will listen and try to bear what I can. Do you have memories of your friends or your former CO you wish to share,” Qetax asked.

“Ranger 2 I didn’t really know.  He transferred in when I was being transferred to the Denver to take command of the Knights.  Ranger 3 was also pretty new only having been there a little over two weeks before I left.   Ranger 4 was fun.  She was the first to buy rounds, jump into a fight, and was Ranger 1’s primary wing mate.  Günther, Knight 5, was a fantastic wingman.  Eager to do the right thing and was able to keep up with my erratic flight style,” Marcus started off.    

After a pause he went on, “I’m hoping Ranger 4 and Knight 5 will make full recoveries from the radiation exposure. They were being transferred to Starfleet Medical on Earth for treatment so I am hopeful.  They’re both damned good pilots and even better people.” 

Ming’s face reflected the worry and sadness as he went on.  Grief took over his facial features as he continued still, “The wing leader of the Rangers and I were quite close for a good while.  It’s technically a violation of protocol but we were lovers for a while.  Fighter pilots aren’t known to have the longest lifespans as a general rule so we figured it wouldn’t likely matter either which way.  Our physical and romantic relationship went on hiatus about a month before I transferred to the Denver. Apparently that is when she put me in for a promotion and recommended me for my own command.  She felt that my growth as a Starfleet Officer was paramount and she felt I was ready for the next step. To go through all that only to watch her die less than a year later has been difficult to process.  She was one of my closest friends ever I’ve come to realize.” 

The pilot did manage a small smile as he added, “The only remotely positive part was that Ensign Abara, formerly Ranger 5, is now Knight 5.  He was my wingman in the Rangers and has taken over as my wingman in the Knights.”

The life of a fighter pilot was clearly more dangerous than that of a Counselor. Emimi Qetax felt a twinge of guilt listening to the loss that her patient had experienced when she herself had lived a fairly comfortable and safe existence. Even her past lives, or rather Qetax’s past lives, had been much more sedate and orderly.

”I imagine your wingman is someone you end up quite close to,” Emimi observed, “Someone you trust and value, possibly over most others. I’m glad you feel that you have someone in your corner. It’s important to realize no matter how hard things get, you’ve always got people who value you.”

Marcus nodded agreement.  He recognized much of the wording as psychiatrist / psychologist tools but that’s why he was here.  He realized, at almost the same instant, that he was feeling dangerously close to being burnt out.  That was why he had plans for the holodeck excursion.   

He replied, “Of all things if someone told me when I left the academy that be in a war such as we’re in someday I’d likely call them a liar.  I’d never imagined the possibility of the sheer magnitude of death going on out there.   Just the losses of the Battle of Betazoid is staggering.  Seeing the numbers is horrific enough.  To have seen it was exponentially worse.   Everything leading up to it desensitized me somewhat but it was still astonishing.” 

After a pause, Ming said, “If it wasn’t for those in my flight and ground crew…and the crew of the Denver…I’d be much worse off.  Most of the time I am too busy or too distracted to think of things like that which makes it a bit easier to manage too.  We all have our coping mechanisms I suppose.”

Qetax nodded, “That is almost always universally true. The mind is resilient and finds a way to survive in the short term. Perhaps not all coping mechanisms are healthy in the long term, but hopefully we will all have a chance for healthy self-reflection after the war. I have seen a few wars, and the after math is always a time for healing. Nabin Qetax was a witness to the war with the Romulans long ago, I remember afterwards it was a hard time.”

It was tricky balancing memories of various previous hosts, and taking ownership of them and yet allowing for Emimi herself to have a place. She smiled, hoping that this was a comforting thing to have said.

Marcus nodded and opened his mouth to speak when his combadge did a double chirp.  The pilot sighed and said, “And that’s my reminder that it’s time for my next appointment.  I would like to pick up at a later time however.  Care to send me your schedule openings starting at few days out?

“Of course, and if I’m not with another patient I’m always open to talking,” Qetax picked up a PADD and loaded her schedule, forwarding it to the other officer, “My schedule is also publicly posted along with the other counselors to make things easier.”

She smiled, hopefully she was some help. Marcus fixed Emimi with a fairly high megawatt smile before saying, “Thank you.  I’ll be sure to take advantage of that.  I suspect we’ll be talking again before too long.  Until then I hope you’ve got fair skys and the wind at your back as was often said by pilots of old.” 

He gave the councilor a friendly nod of thanks before heading out of the office.  No rest for the weary. 

Qetax watched him go and then settled in on the couch to do some reading of some journals she was behind on.

The smoke-covered ruins of what once was Delos City burned as secondary fires caused by the antimatter explosions continued to cause chaos throughout the city. At its centre, a large crater stood where the downtown core had been. Rescue efforts by the local Luphirians were hampered as they tried to reach survivors buried in the collapsed buildings as most of the remaining structures were at risk of collapsing further.

Dr Silverpaw moved up to the next bed in her cobbled-together field hospital and let out a low grow as she looked over the next patient, a young unconscious male who was covered in burns. She picked up the small pad of paper that one of the nurses was using to record the patient’s information and sighed inwardly and thought to herself ‘That damn explosion, what caused the blasted burns!’ She started to do her standard checks when she her shouting from across the road and looked up at the partially collapsed remains of the Delos Central Hospital. As she did she could see several figures running out of it with their arms full of medical equipment and bandages before she heard a loud crash and a cloud of dust billowed out from the entranceway and several windows.

“Great, just what we need,” she muttered under her breath. She put down the pad of paper and looked towards one of the few remaining nurses, “Go get whatever supplies they pulled out of there. We mine as well put them to good use.”

Before the nurse could even take a step there was a cry from the other side of the tent as glowing blue lights appeared in thin air and seconds later several creatures stood there with multiple large boxes beside them.

Silverpaw, even in her exhausted state growled and bared her teeth at the unknown intruders but there was not much force behind it. Before she could do anything else a woman, she assumed, with long pale hair stepped forward and held up her empty hands in a gesture she thought was to indicate she wasn’t a threat.

“Hello, I am Lieutenant Commander Riandri Nalam, from the Federation of Plants. I know this will seem very strange and it isn’t how we do things normally but you and your people need help. We are here to provide whatever medical assistance we can.”

Silverpaw looked at this strange creature, Riandri, and could only nod in acknowledgement, unsure if she was accepting help or just nodding for the sake of it.

“Great, our medical team here will help as best they can but while they do is there someone, a local official I can speak to? I don’t want to cause any alarm we have been in contact with your Alpha Prime and he is aware we are here, I expect word will reach you soon but lives are on the line so we didn’t want to wait.”

“I, um, appreciate that. There are a couple of law enforcement officers here helping if that works?” Silverpaw said before looking at the nurse, “Go get them, say nothing!”

Riandri smiled, “Dr Haigh, if you will. There are patients that could use your help. Collins can you keep an eye on things until we are confident our appearance won’t cause too much trouble and then bring down the rest of your team?”

Lavender nodded and produced a medical tricorder from her belt. “If I may,” she said to Silverpaw, although it wasn’t really a question. A quick visual triage suggested the young male the native had been close-to when they beamed in was the worst affected. The tricorder showed a mix of first, second and third degree plasma burns and some native pain relief in the patient’s system. The tricorder returned to its pocket Lavender opened her bag and acquired a debridement tool and a dermal regenerator. She thought against administering any further pain relief until she could analyse the drugs already in their system and went to work cleaning the wounds. 

“Aye.” He nodded, pulled out his tricorder and started scanning. His rifle, lowered, was there if he needed it. His tricorder showed no evidence of hostile forces nearby, but in situations like this, panicked people might resort to violence where unknown people are around. =/\= Collins to Denver. Commence transport. =/\= When the tact team appeared, he had them setup around the perimeter of the makeshift encampment.

Collins returned to Riandi’s location. “The tactical team has been deployed, sir.”

Riandri nodded, “Great, the local officials know we are here to help but it will take time to trickle down to everyone. If there is any trouble we will pull back and beam out rather than engage. We are here to help after all.”

She turned to Lavender and Silverpaw, who was watching in fascination as the doctor worked, but before she could speak a large Luphirian wearing a dirt and dust-stained uniform entered accompanied by the nurse. Shadowpaw turned and quickly moved over to the officer who looked shocked to see the Federation officers.

“Greymane, I wanted to introduce you to our new friends. They are here to help treat the wounded,” Shadowpaw said quickly as she saw that he was viewing them as a treat.

He eyed each of the officers for a second before speaking, “I was just told a moment before your nurse found me that we had some visitors who would be helping and to provide what support I could. I didn’t expect them to be…alien.” 

“I understand your apprehension, I am Commander Nalam of the Federation. Our Captain is speaking with your Alpha Prime and he gave us permission to provide support. I know this is an unusual situation but any support you can provide would be helpful. Our Security Officer, Lieutenant Collins, is tasked with ensuring the safety of our medical team. If you can work with him we can bring them down and start treating you wounded.”

Greyman nodded hesitantly, “Very well. Though I have many questions.” After a moment he looked at Collins, “If you follow me I can show you around the hospital and introduce you to my team.” He glanced at the several armed tactical officers he had noted, “You can bring them if you want but my people here are more interested in finding the wounded and getting them here than fighting.”

Collins looked at Nalam to see if she thought it was a wise suggestion.

Riandri nodded to Callum, “Get a lay of the land Lieutenant, though leave a couple of the tactical team with the doctor. We will start bringing down the medical team shortly and having two extra pairs of hands will help.”

“Aye commander.” Collins pointed to 4 security officers. “You 4 will go with me, while the remainder remain here to protect the hospital. Keep your weapons low, so as to not disturb the population. Understood?” The 4 nodded. Collins looked at Greyman. “Whenever you are ready, sir.”

High above…

Sh’iv stared out her cockpit windscreen.  The devastation radiated outward from a central point.  Where a lab and city must have been was nothing more than a crater and radiation spikes.  “There must be millions dead. Here one minute and gone the next,” she said over the intercom to no one in particular. 

Ming was seeing the same thing his XO was.  He pushed the rising fury off to the back of his mind with practiced ease as he did so.  He said quietly, “Undoubtedly…Such a needless waste of life.  Such is war on the scale this has become though.  Doesn’t make it right nor does it make it easier.  The devastation is stunning in all the worst ways.” 

Knight 5’s basso voice followed Ming’s, “I still canna phantom scenes like this.  It can make the soul sick it can.” 

Marcus made agreeing sounds to his old friends words.  Knight’s 3 and 4 were in high orbit in an observation pattern ready to dive at the first sign of trouble in addition to watching for sneak attacks from on high.  He opted for that since Sh’iv, Ming and Abara had the most complimentary flying styles while 3 and 4 were the better match of skills.  

“You’re right about that old friend.  Luckily the Denver’s got a skilled crew helping out on the ground.  I’ve hopes that they can help the residents of this city start the road to recovery.  Such a path is never easy but…” Ming started before he was interrupted by a beep from one of his sensors.  

Knight actual looked at the readings for a moment before adding, “Knight Actual to Knight 2 and 5 … I’m reading a radiation spike but can’t get clear details on it.  Are you both able to read it any better than I can from my angle?” 

“Too much interference,” Sh’iv replied as she worked her sensors.  Suddenly alarms blared.  “The radiation is masking weapons fire! I’ve been locked on to!” She slammed the throttle open and rolled hard right into a steep dive. A heartbeat later something slammed into her fighter and the console display lit up with damage warnings.

A particle beam burned through the air and slammed into Sh’iv’s fighter shearing a large portion of the port wing clean off causing the ship to begin to spin out of control and it rapidly lost altitude.

Fire alarms filled the cockpit.  The ship shuddered again as the it started to break apart in mid-air. “Mayday, mayday, mayday,” the Andorian shouted into the comms,  but the transmission was never sent, the radio antennas damaged in the attack.

With practiced skill she dumped the last of her power reserves into the RCS packs.  She had to stabilize the ship before ejecting.  Firing the thrusters it snapped out of the spin in a nose down attitude.  A quick check of the indicated air speed and she swore. 800 knots. That was well over the safe ejection speed, but she was out of options. 

“Ming, I hope you have Denver ready to beam me up.” She slammed the visor of her helmet home, and pressed the environmental controls on the sleeve of her flight suit and a second later she was rocketing away from her stricken ship.

Ming swore and radioed, “Denver! Knight two extra vehicular!  Lock on and energize.  Again, lock onto Knight Two and energize!”He then commed, “Knight’s Three and Four, get down here!  Keep alert for masked targeting emissions!  Same goes for us Knight 5!”  

“Too much interference to get a transporter lock Lieutenant,” The transporter operator responded. 

Sh’iv woke up outside the fighter. There was a sense of falling, but it was a controlled fall.  Glancing up she could see the same silvery parachutes used by orbital skydivers. Another particle beam seared across the sky.  It appeared to be from a ground based battery.  That looked like a Cardassian phaser.,” she thought to herself.

Keying the shorter range comm system on her suit she shouted in desperation knowing all too well that the warning would come too late, “Incoming low!”

Ming growled at the response not hearing Sh’iv’s radio call.    He said, “Knights 3 and 4…This is Knight Actual — Drop to 10,000 feet AGL and continue the combat air patrol for us.  Watch out for ground fire.  We have hostles down there.

”Knight 3’s voice came over the radion, “Ya got it boss!  Comin’ down to 10,000 feet AGL pronto.”

Marcus replied, “Knight Actual acknowledges.  Knight 5….Remember the Planetia Roll Drop maneuvers?”

Knight 5’s basso lilt came back, “Ya’ canno’ be serious Knight Actual.”

The Knight CO replied, “Damn right I am.  Kill anything that looks like AAA.  On three…..Mark….Mark……MARK!”

Knight Actual and Knight 5 simultaneously rolled away from each other and dropped below the shroud.  They were maybe 25 yards off the ground when Ming saw a Cardassian ground-to-air weapon.   Abara saw another in his sights.  Within a second of each other, both men radioed, “Rifle!”

Micro torpedoes leaped from each fighter and, within seconds, blew the Cardassian artillery away in a pair of matter/antimatter-generated fireballs.  Without another feasible target, visible in close proximity Ming radioed, “Knight 5….Keep your eyes peeled.  Mark 1 sensors as well as your fighter’s.  I’m going to do a flyover of where Knight 2 aught to be.” 

Sh’iv hit the ground hard, the impact sending pain up her legs and spine.  She rolled to the ground and in a single smooth motion severed the lines to the orbital parachute and pulled off the EV helmet sucking in the fresh air of the planet.  “Well, that just happened.”

She was in the middle of nowhere.  Tall evergreen trees lined the southern facing slope that angled sharply down to mee the opposing ridge that rose up again.  “Couldn’t have crashed next to a transport could you?” 

Sighing she stipped out of her flightsuit and pulled out her survival pack and inspected the contents. Satisfied nothing was damaged she made sure the homing beacon was active and sat down in the rocky soil and began to much on a bar of Starfleet rations to wait for rescue. 

Collins heard the explosions and saw the fighter exploded. He tapped his commbadge. =/\= Collins to Denver. I just saw a fighter destroyed. Any intel on the pilot? =/\=

“We lost the Knight XO. We’re still waiting on a report from Lieutenant Ming,” the replacement operations officer on the Denver responded.

Moments after the first emplacements were destroyed and about the time Collins reached out to Denver, Knights Actual and Five took another in addition to taking out some bogies on the ground with extreme prejudice. Marcus checked his board and confirmed the alert was a friendly beacon.  At which point, “Knight actual to Knight five:  Looks like Knight two fired up her beacon.  New course is 142 degrees relative.  Turn on a count of 4, copy?” 

Abara radioed, “Knight 5 to Actual:  Copy bossman.” 

Knight 1 radioed, “Mark, mark, mark, MARK!”

The two fighters altered course.  Once settled onto course Marcus radioed, “Knight Actual to Knight 5…ETA two minutes and 35 seconds.  Concur?

Abeo came back, “Knight 5 concurs Knight Actual.” 

Ming then did two things.  First, he went to the frequency for the ground forces and said, “This is Knight Actual to friendly ground forces.  Knight two is down. I and Knight five will be over her location.  Expecting easy extraction. If it turns into a furry hairball we might need a hand.  Anyone read?”

‘Confirmed.  Much appreciated and we’ll be in touch either way.  Standby…Knight actual out until we’ve got something to report,” Ming said not hiding a sense of relief. 

From there he shifted to the flight frequency and aimed the signal so that Abeo and Sh’iv should be able to receive, “Knight Actual to Knight Two….do you read?  Knight 5 and I should be there in a bit over 90 seconds.  Please acknowledge.”

“Good to hear your voice sir,” Sh’iv responded. “What’s going on?”

“Knight 5 will be providing cover for us with EXTREME prejudice while I dust down and pick you up assuming you’re done with your R&R, XO.” Ming replied interjecting a humorous / playful tone toward the end. 

“I’m in no rush to get my wings clipped,” ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Sh’iv replied. 

Ming couldn’t surpress the smile at Sh’iv’s response.  He replied, “On site n 45 seconds….Will survey the sitution and dust down.  Standby Knight 2….Knight 5, eyes open.”Kight 5’s basso came back, “Confirmed Knight Actual.  Eyes peeled.”

Marcus landed close as possible next to his grounded XO and opened the hatch just long enough for her to climb up and take the secondary seat in the craft.  He said, “Glad to have you back Sh’iv,” as he closed the hatch and launched back in.

He dialed into squadron and ground force frequancies and advised, “Knight Actual with Knight Two launching. Knights…Let’s finish our work so we can head home.” 

The ground transport bounced along the road. Rebecca had never ridden in a car and there was no sensation quite like it.  Buildings gave way to farms. The flat tilled land had various greenery growing from a soil so dark it was almost black. She was not a farmer, but even she knew this was prime growing land.

Jeter looked out the window lost in the wide open land around them. While he enjoyed the view he had to admit he preferred being back onboard the ship, a spacer through and through. “You have a beautiful world Stormclaw, it looks a lot like our homeworld.”

Qetax nodded, “It is like the Trill colony I was born on, and sort of like our home-world as well.”

It seemed, at least to the counsellor that lush planets were more supportive of life, though there were notable exceptions. The multi-ton vehicle and its escort sped along the farm roads at 100kph, holding its occupants in near luxury. While the vehicle was clearly armored, the interior was dark woods, leathers, and metal. 

Turning towards the young woman, Varael replied, “Thank you, Lieutenant, though I wish you could appreciate the olfactory part more. The black-eyed night melon crop is due soon. Even now during the day, there is the merest hint of sweet orange. In a few days, no doubt it will be quite noticeable. 

The pair of large truck-like vehicles turned a corner, Varael offered, “Only a few kilometres now.” A million questions ran through his mind to ask, and with the welfare of his people at stake, they all seemed inane. Though one came to mind. “Do you people ‘beam’ everywhere? Just popping up at will all the time seems energy expensive.”

Jeter smiled at that, “It is a very useful piece of technology and it does have substantial energy requirements though we have found ways to ensure they are met. We don’t use it for everything though, there are cases where it cannot be used, some planets naturally have hazards that prevent it and some material doesn’t handle it well. In those cases, we use shuttlecraft to transfer material and people. We may use them to bring in some of the relief add so ensuring your air defenses don’t target us will be good.” 

Varael smiled, pointing a finger towards his assistant, on the PADD-like device linked to his office. “Already done.  I have coordinates for the several warehouses near enough to the sites to be good candidates.” Holding out the device, he offered it to Gus. “Strangely silent this one.” Varael indicated. 

Taking his own PADD, he synched the two and relayed the coordinates to the ship. Gus replied in an even calm tone, “No offence was intended.” When Varael dismissed it with a wave of his hand, he told Gus.”I know the gaze of a warrior when I see one. Do not apologize for guarding the pack. Few professions are held in higher regard among my people. The health and harmony of the pack come first.”  Gus tilted and bowed slightly in respect. 

Coming up on a gated community. They slowed long enough for the gate to open. “Mind you, we added this to let the others have privacy. They can come and go as they please, though they need to sign in and out and take a locator device. We suggest they take escorts. Safety first. Especially since the accident.”In a few hundred yards was a building. They pulled and stopped. “Shall we?” Varael asked.

“Yes, of course,” Rebecca replied. “Do you mean the Cardassians are not being treated as prisoners?”

“And what accident? Did they injure some of your people?” Jeter asked, concern evident on his face.

“We did have a few minor incidents. Scuffles mostly. There was an incident with a trio of others, that slew their escorts and took their weapons. They managed to steal a shuttle after killing the ground crew. The shuttle was destroyed after trying to ram the fighter sent to force them back to the planet.” He said in a very straightforward manner. Then added, “I won’t say it is a shining moment of harmony, but I also don’t condone mass murder.”

As they got out of the car Jeter shook his head slowly. “Neither do we. I am sorry for the loss of life, on both sides.” 

The group made their way through a checkpoint drawing a number of very curious and at times almost hostile looks from the guards on duty. “I assume we need to sign in?” Jeter said as he looked at one of the guards and back to Varael.

Varael looked at the base commander, standing directly facing him, and offered. “Their scent is natural. Weapons down, my orders.”  The guards complied, though a few hesitated until the commander corrected him with a glance.“These are different people. They are here to help. Give them every courtesy.”  

The deafening roar of jet engines marked the approach of a pair of fighters. The pilots deftly skimmed the treetops flying below the primitive sensors of the Luphirians. With precision and speed, the aircraft weaved through the dense forest, their metallic forms briefly visible before seamlessly blending into the shadows. 

“Those aren’t ours,” Rebecca said trying to make out the approaching craft.

Jeter looked up as the two fighters approached, “This doesn’t feel right.” He turned to Varael about to speak as he tapped his combagde, “Denver, give me a status….”

Varael’s head whipped around at the now obvious noise. Being so used to hearing fighter jets, it wasn’t a conscious thought for him. Both lips curled in anger and he even emitted a discernable low growl.  The aircraft was so close now that the engines covered most of the sound. Gus looked over in concern as the sound was primal and saw where Varael’s gaze was pointed.

The fighters thundered overhead near the speed of sound,  the wings displaying markings of the Luphirian military.  As they closed in on the base they released their bombs and pulled and shot skyward. The ensuing explosion sent Rebecca flying backwards, her ears ringing. Two buildings were completely obliterated and the surrounding structures erupted in flames.

Gus moved toward Lieutenant Qetax, but only made it partway. Varael got stuck at the moment and yelled, “COVER,” but his timing was off. Since he was only partially in motion, the blast knocked him sideways into the pavement a few meters away. 

Qetax was knocked off her feet as well, but she recovered staying low and scrambling over to Gus. Though not a medical doctor she had to take First Aid courses while at the Academy and while she did not make use of those skills often it was something she had in her tool kit. 

“You okay?” she asked, capable of dealing with superficial and non-serious wounds if it came to that. It had been a long time since anyone had shot at her.

Gus shook his head, his ears ringing loudly, he barely heard the lieutenant’s query. Finally nodding, he slowly stood up. Tapping his comm badge, he called the bridge, starting a quick sitrep. Varael was already up. He was on his handheld communicator, orders going out rapidly. Civilian orders went out as well as military requests through people he could trust. 

Jeter regained his feet quickly and ran over to help the Captain regain her feet, “Are you ok?”

Accepting Jeter’s hand she stood still trying to get her overloaded senses to settle, “I wouldn’t say this is my best day.”

“You could say that again. I suspect we may have landed ourselves in the middle of a coup attempt.” He looked over at Varael and shouted to get his attention, “We need to get to the prisoners! Can one of you men let me through?”

“Open the gates!” Varael ordered. “That’s an order.” Any loyal troops would know the sound of his voice. There was no time to get any heavy weapons. Still, he quickly retrieved one of the newer energy carbines from his vehicle. Looking over at Gus, “I’d get that weapon ready in case though cowards come back.” Varael offered, his voice incredibly low and rough. 

The roar of the engines suddenly grew louder with the jets turning on a wing.  They came in low. This time a bit slower than before. As they closed in their machine guns opened up ripping through the convoy of Varael’s cavalcade of cars. Bullets whipped past as once again Starfleet and Luphirian dignitaries dove for cover leaving fiery wreckage in their wake. 

Vareal stood his ground away from the vehicle. Flipping the selector to burst, he pulled the trigger in a practiced manner, a few sparks hitting one of the crafts but doing little. Then the fighters shot skyward and they were gone leaving behind an eerie silence. 

Jeter looked over at Gus, “Get Denver to track those fighters, if they start to come back I want them brought down.” He began to start moving towards the prisoners building then stopped, “Actually, have Denver track them back to their base, that is if they don’t return to hit us again. Then beam the pilots to the brig. I have some questions for them and I am sure Varael will as well.”

Gus relayed the information to the bridge, quickly suggesting a tractor beam might also be possible.

“Honestly, I was putting their heads on a pike in the middle of the capital as a warning to the next seven generations that disharmony to the pack will not be tolerated,” Varael said.  “Sadly, that won’t happen.” he said then added, “Yes, Commander. I would like that opportunity very much.”

“I understand that desire, betrayal is hard to stomach,” Jeter said before looking to the Captain before returning his attention to Varael. “I suggest we get to the Cardassians, then get you somewhere safe as I expect you need to contact your allies.”

“Sound advice, Mister Jeter. Plans are already in motion.” Varael said. Like himself, his assistant wore a light armor, so that pride was the worst of her injuries. “Load the Others into trucks. Intersperse guards as well. Let the cowards show their true discord of spirit of they return to attack.” 

“Let’s get back to the Denver,” Rebecca ordered. “We can use the transporters to pull any Cardassian life signs back to the ship. And at this point I don’t give a damn about the Prime Directive.”

“That would be a very sound idea Captian. Though we should notify Commander Nalam and let her know what happened, they need to either be retrieved or will need additional security,” Jeter added quickly.

Rebecca nodded and pressed her combadge, “Talon to Commander Nalam.”

Many miles away Riandri tapped her combadge, “Yes, Captain?”

“Heads up, we were attacked by their military.  We don’t know much, yet, but the base the Cardassian survivors were being housed was bombed and they attacked their leader’s cavalcade.  We’re beaming back to the Denver.” Rebecca told her XO and Intel officer.  The implications of a military coup was obvious,  but without evidence that sort of speculation wasn’t something you transmitted on an open com frequency. 

“I understand Captain,” Riandri remarked then paused for a moment before continuing. “One moment….Captain, we have a column of soldiers approaching the hospital. I will be in touch.”

“Understood. Keep me posted.” She closed the com and slammed her combadge again. “Talon to Denver. Beam us up.”

A hush fell upon the aide center as a line of uniformed soldiers marched up the street. There were at least fifty in the orderly formation led but an all-black Lupherian in a grey wool uniform. Their boots made a rhythmic click as they approached. Sunlight gleamed off the barrels of their weapons and their polished black boots. Civilians ducked out of their way.

At the edge of the aide center the leader held up a hand and an officer shouted, “Company, halt!” For a long moment, there was silence, only the moans of the injured made a sound. “Bring the prisoners to the front!” the leader shouted.

Several Lupherians from the back peeled away from the formation dragging Starfleet officers clad in teal uniforms. The medical team that had been dispatched to search for survivors within the ruined city.  Dr. Lorsa looked worse for wear. Her Bajoran nose was canted at an odd angle and dried blood streaked across her face. Her uniform was torn and strands of hair were free of the ponytail. The rest of the medical team looked to be in somewhat better condition but they all showed evidence of rough treatment.

“Who is their commander?” the Lupherian leader demanded.

Riandri looked out of the tent and frowned. “Why is it whenever you try to help people this shit always happens?” she muttered under her breath. The heads-up from the Captain had only given her a few seconds to think about possible scenarios before this group had shown up. She glanced over at Dr Haigh, “I may piss them off.” With that, she tapped her combadge, Denver, emergency beam out for Dr Lorsa and her team. They are surrounded by a pack of Luphirians , don’t leave a single one there.”

“Commander, we are unable to get a lock. The radiation from the blast has started to move in your direction preventing the beam out,” came the voice over the combadge. 

“Damnit,” Riandri cursed. She turned to Dr Haigh, “Can you check the radiation levels, we may need some anti-radiation meds shortly.” Lavender tore her intense frown away from the Lupherians and opened her regular tricorder to scan for radiation.

“We’re alright for now,” she said in a low voice, “but not for very long. Let’s make this fast.”

Riandri sighed, “Collins, we have an issue here with the locals, the Captain has reported an assassination attempt on the Alpha and our team. We have a potentially hostile force at the camp who took Dr Lorsa and her team captive. I want your team to provide cover while I have a chat with them. Give me an assessment of your ability to neutralize them quickly.” She paused for a moment, “Will Greymane assist us?”

Collins looked at Greymane if he would give assistance. “Nothing from Greymane, commander. I will take position around them and make ready to take them out.”

Riandri stepped out from the medical team, flanked by two of the tactical team who had remained with her and the doctor. “I am Commander Nalam of the Federation Starship Denver,” she said, her hand resting on the phaser at her hip as she let her annoyance with the situation flare inside her. Beside her, the two officers from the tactical team moved to gain some cover. She stared at the Lupherian leader, “Can you tell me while you attacked my people? People who were here saving the lives of yours at the request of your leaders? Something I would have expected your soldiers to be doing.”

“General Swiftclaw,” the Luphirian leader replied coldly. “You alien invaders are no longer welcome.   You will be purged from our planet along with anyone that invited you into our packs, or gives you aide and comfort… irrespective of rank or position.”

Riandri tilted her head to the side quizzically as she stood completely relaxed, “Alien invader? Far from it General, we have come with no ill intent and are only here to provide aid to your injured and to provide assistance to avoid a similar disaster.” She gestured towards the still-smoking ruins of the city. As she spoke she tried to push a sense of calm and friendship towards the General and his troops. Though she was not well versed in her species abilities at telepathy she had been slowly acquainting herself with them.  She looked past the riled-up General quickly before locking eyes with General Swiftclaw, “Doctor, I hope you and yours are ok? I would very much like to discuss this with civility and respect.”

The General curled back his lips. “Respect? You invade our lands, and sabotage an engine so it explodes so you can weaken us and invade? There will be no respect given when such insult has been issued.  No, there will be no discussion.  Leave our world. You have one hour,  and to ensure you heed my orders we will keep your people prisoner,  and for every 15 minutes past that hour I execute one prisoner. If by two hours all you primates are not gone I will order and airstrike and kill every living organism within two square getron from here.”

“Oh, I see. So a direct threat then? And what reassurances do I have that you won’t hurt any of my people any further? ” she said as she grew tired of the threats, diplomacy had never been her strong suit. “Why do you feel that we have sabotaged your engine? What would we gain from doing so? And why would we invade your world? Space is vast, there is no need for such actions or such pointless loss of like. Ask yourself that General.”

Collins and his unit had moved into position. There was a clear line of sight of Swiftclaw and his troops. He tapped his combadge. “Collins to Riandi. In position. Give the word and we can neutralize them quickly.”

Riandri heard the report through the comms badge and tapped her fingers on her side a couple of times to indicate to Collins and the team to hold for the time being.

Collins received the message and held up his fist to show the team to hold.

Lavender desperately tried to keep her rising fury under control. Being impertinent was one thing, but roughing up her medical staff was quite another. She was stuck between her oath as her Doctor and her responsibility as a head of department, between her gang upbringing and the duty of a Lieutenant Commander. She wanted to go full gang warfare on the soldiers who were holding her staff, but diplomatically that was suicide for what they were trying to achieve and she had to look at the bigger picture. They would need the Luphirians on the side if they were going to help the population. Her small stature wasn’t particularly imposing but her scowl said plenty. She mouthed “It’ll be okay” to Ephe and gave her a reassuring and determined nod as she did so.

“We will not tolerate an invasion without fighting back.” He turned to one of his lieutenants and a moment later one of the engineers that was accompanying the medical team was pushed forward.  They had been assigned to the med teams to access the integrity of the buildings before they entered to look for survivors. 

Ensign Aoife MacKenzie had her hands bound in front of her.  Her curly red mane flew in all directions, her eyes wide in fear.  The Lieutenant kicked her knees out from under her and she crashed to the concrete.  As Aoife groaned in pain the Luphirian lieutenant drew his side arm and fired one shot into Aoife’s back.  She fell limp, blood pooling around her.

“You now have a guarantee that your people WILL  be hurt,” Swiftclaw growled. “I make no promises that I won’t hurt your people further.  You have one hour and I start executing the others as well.”

Riandri didn’t flinch as the shot was fired but rage boiled in her and she had to focus on not pulling her phaser from its holster, “I will not forget this General.” 

Swiftclaw, his fur bristling with tension, simply turned his back on the scene, his sharp eyes scanning the area for any signs of trouble. With a commanding roar, he barked out a series of orders, his Lupherian soldiers falling into formation with military precision. They herded their prisoners before them, the captured individuals casting fearful glances over their shoulders as they were marched back in the direction they had come, the echoes of their captors’ footsteps reverberating through the skeletal walls of a destroyed city.

Riandri gestured to the security officers to move up as she ran to Aoife and called for Dr Haigh. As she pulled out her tricorder she began to scan the young ensign and let out a sigh of relief as it indicated that she was still alive, the bullet had ruptured a lung and grazed her heart. “Damnit,” she swore out loud. Doctor we need you now.”

“I’m here!” Lavender knelt quickly by Aoife, throwing her med-pack open. She checked for responsiveness but the Engineer was unconscious.

“It’s Doctor Haigh, McKenzie, I’m here, okay? I got you,” she said, her voice and her grip equal in their reassuring firmness. She moved quickly, first taking a quick scan to check exactly what injuries the Ensign had, following up with a Hypospray. She manipulated the controls and shot Aiofe with three separate doses.

Fucking savages using projectile weapons… Lavender nearly spoke the words out loud but kept them to herself as she assessed what to treat first.

Riandri watched the doctor work before turning to look up where she expected Collins’ and his team to be before tapping her combadge, “Collins, get down here. We need to get our people back and need a plan.”

Without waiting for a reply she connected to Denver, “Nalam to Denver, Ensign MacKenzie has wounded. Have you been able to sort out the transporter issue? We could do with a beam out for her or more boots on the ground.”

“Not yet for your location,” Rebecca replied stain in her voice. “The Knights are in your area. I’ll dispatch Ming to your location.”

“I appreciate that. We have encountered a hostile ground force and they have taken Dr. Lorsa’s medical team captive and are threatening to kill them one-by-one if we don’t pull back. I only have a handful of security staff down here and I will not leave them with the Lupherians,” Riandri said as she continued to stare in the direction the crew was taken.

“We’re getting our people out of there. I’ll dispatch shuttles and runabout to pick up our people and any injured Lupherians.  We’re here to help so I don’t want to just abandon those we are actually helping.  As for the prisoners let’s hope evacuation satisfies the rebel contingent. I won’t put more lives at risk nor will I fight a civil war for the Luphirians.”

“Understood Captain. Can you send a couple of sets of pattern enhancers down with the first shuttle? I haven’t checked the numbers yet but with luck, they may be able to cut through the interference so we can get our team out if needed.”

“I’ll send some down with one of the shuttles.”

Collins and his team raced back to Riandri’s position. “I saw him kill her! I had him in my sights and I should have fired and ended his life.” He stood before her. “I swear that he will pay for what he did, commander.”

“She is alive,” Riandri said, “I told you to hold, and you followed the orders. He intended to do this from the get-go but we have to make plans.” She turned and looked in the direction the prisoners had been taken, “We will them back.”

“If I get him in my sights, I will kill him.” Collins posted security around their position in case of another attack.

Riandri put a hand on his shoulder, “Let’s get our people back first and then go from there. The Captain is right, we cannot fight a civil war here.”

Ming was on the holodeck, sitting in a camp chair, doing the age old thing you did in this situation.  He was roasting a marshmallow.  It was cliche but the liked the ritual of the thing and, not that he’d admit it to many, he was a fiend for smores.  As a kid his family had gone to Mount Lemon in Southern Arizona just shy of 300 miles south by southeast of Flagstaff where his dad taught history.  It was a tradition over many years in the summer which he had grown to love. 

He hadn’t been back there since joining the Fleet.  It was even harder between the tension with the Klingons prior to and during this war with the Dominion.  Looking over to his tent he huffed at himself.  It was rather large and very cush.  His parents would have chastised him but with the war on he wasn’t going to rough it on his down time if he had anything to say about it.  Dinner had been some rainbow trout from Rose Cayon Lake that he’d grilled on this same fire.  Amazing what could be done with a fish, utility knife, a stick and some lemon.  The guts had fed some hungry ants some distance away from his camp and the only other thing left was the bones which he had tossed into the fire for incineration.  He was thinking deeply as he enjoyed his first smore.   

The thoughts included the visage of Lieutenant Arin Jones. It wasn’t anything really erotic although he’d be a liar if he said she wasn’t beautiful.  They were friends and he was happy with that arrangement.  None the less there it was.  

He’d just finished the Smore when he heard a song dog let out a rather melodious howl.  Then came another.  Soon a whole pack was calling out as a method of communication to it’s members.   He always thought it sounded rather beautiful.  Always had … especially as he got older and became less fearful of the animals.  He had learned that they did not attack humans without reason….or in an opportunistic move if you let down your guard.   A long-lasting fire often took care of that and he’d become quite good at building those.  

Ming smiled taking in a deep breath.   The smell of the campfire, the scent of the trees, the earthy scent of the soil, and the fresh air was also something that had captivated him early on.  If there was such a thing as a happy place this was it for him.  He was glad he had blocked off a long stretch of open time for this Holodeck as he hadn’t slept in a tent for way too long.  

The doors swished open, letting in the ambient ship light as Arin walked in. The doors closed around here, returning the lighting and mood to the proper setting of the holodeck. Walking over near the fire, she set her small pack down a couple meters from the fire. “Seriously?! Orange rocks, snakes, and dirt? No tropical beaches? Mountain stream? Five star hotel?” Arin commented. Her Irish brogue was always thicker when she was agitated.  Getting into fine form, she added. “Boyo, I think the donkey kicked yer head one too many times..” Looking around, she frowned. “Computer. Add one outdoor rustic wooden oversized pine couch, with outdoor removable cushion.”

As the furniture appeared, Arin pulled her sleeping bag out and lay it out on the surface. Ming grinned at his camping companion.  

He said, “Not much in the way of snakes around here aside from the occasional Diamondback Rattler.  They’re scarce on the ground this time of year.  Too bad as they’re good eats. Fund that out in the real world after it coiled up when I was just walking by.  My spade was faster than it’s strike and the rest is history.  I still have the rattle and the tanned skin back home in New Berlin.  The Fleet tried to convince me to becoming a ground pounder when they found out about my martial arts and survival experience.  I convinced them I was more useful in the cockpit.  It was oddly satisfying when I ended up levelling my combat training instructors at the Academy and taught the Survival course instructor a few things.”

He chuckled and added, “And the red rocks are about 65 to 70 clicks south by southwest.  It’s quite beautiful actually. Sedona was one of my favorite places to visit growing up.   There’s some rather impressive places and sites in the North American Southwest.  Looking forward to going back when this damned war is over and done with.” 

“There are times when you ken be so in tune with the way I think. Then there is now. ” her brogue going strong. When Ming mentioned the war and wanting it to end, she softened. “Let’s at least try to get a few shots of our own in first please.” Opening a thermos, she poured them each a spiked coffee and passed one of the blue and white enameled cups over to Marcus. “Though Lord knows I hope you’re right.”

“I absolutely want to get the chance to give the Dominion at least one more solid kick in their collective arses.   Maybe two.  The gods of old know damned well that I owe them that at least.  After that they can feel free to surrender.  I originally signed up to explore.  I am unafraid of a fight when necessary but I’d like to go back to that sooner versus later,” Ming replied eyes watching the holographic flames dance.

A slight smile graced his lips as he looked up to the half Orion helm officer sitting near him and added with a sparkle entering his eyes toward the last sentence, “And the old adage of, ‘If everyone liked the same thing it’d be a boring galaxy’ has some truth to it.  Something to be said about adventure.”

“Change of subject. Things are morbid enough around here. Do ya just need ta be moody?” Arin asked her friend.

Ming exhaled and smiled apologetically.  He said, “Sorry. I’ve had a few former crewmates tell me I seem more serious.  Must be something about taking a combat command.  The Battle of Betazed didn’t help.  Among the ships lost was the USS Tucson.  Over 400 of her crew killed including the flight leader, flight XO and a pilot.  My last posting, many of my friends and collogues…two members of my last flight….one of which was formerly a romantic interest.  I pretty much had a front row seat to watch them all die.”  Marcus visibly winced.  He drained the cup and shook his head saying, “And I’m sorry again.  I put this holodeck program together to escape the war and the worries of…”  He gestured to where the door was, “….Out there.  It’s picked some odd times to pop back into mind.” 

The Knight’s CO closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose before slowly exhaling.  He quite obviously started to calm as he said, “I managed to get the holodeck to replicate the smell of this area closely if imperfectly.  It’s pretty damned close though.  Fort Tuthill Recreation Area.  It’s been a United States Army rec area and a public park / historical site run jointly between the US Army Reserve and Coconino county right up until the dissolution of the United States Armed Forces in favor of the world government.    The County took over from there with help from Starfleet Command.  Northern Arizona University is a few clicks north of here.  With a parent teaching there part time it became a place to…escape and rebel as a teen.   During my time off at the Academy and leaves prior to the war I’d come back to rest and unwind.  It’s helped more than not.  It always seems to….and now I have the best company I can hope for in one of my favorite places in the universe.  At least a recreation of it.”

With that last sentence he pulled out a mostly full bottle of Tullamore DEW adding with a bit of a grin, “Compliments of County Cork. Invented in County Offaly in your old neck of the woods judging by the accent.” 

“Thanks. You could try the Irish coffee I handed ya.” Arin pointed out. “Sorry for being miffed earlier. One of my new ensigns is being a donkey and performance review are due soon. So there more joy to spread.” The coffee had cooled down long enough that Arin drained the mug. Placing it back in her bag, she had the computer replicate some marble whiskey tumblers. She poured herself a few fingers. “This is a nice place. It just reminds me of one summer I spent in the Ozako desert back home. Average was close to 40 C.” 

Sipping the whiskey, Arin commented. “So what would you be doing if not for Starfleet? Me? I’d be back home working on airfact, so not much would change. However, I do like piloting starships. At least the ones that seem to have charm.” 

“I’ve got a wanderers soul so I have been told.  I visited many places on Earth over the years.  Every continent, scores of cities….At the risk of sounding macabre I found the Catacombs of Europe to be fascinating.  How we face death is as we face life I’ve found.  There were whole necropolises in antiquity.  Then there’s the canals of Venice, the French Quarter of New Orleans, the rolling hills of Ireland, the Scottish marches, the American Pacific Northwest, the Southwest, the Japanese Isles, and so on.  I’m grateful that I joined the fleet.  It’s been one hell of an experience war or no.  If I hadn’t joined Starfleet I’d likely have been a merchant mariner or private merchantman.  Figure I’d be a department head by now if I were on a boomer ship if not second officer,” Ming finished with a sparkle in his eyes.

Arin pulled some bagels and salmon spread out of her bag. “Why didn’t you just ask for a deep-space assignment? It’s not like you haven’t had time to ask.? She asked, curious about his answer, then added. “I would kill for a fresh tomato. Red plastic is closer to what comes out of the food slot.”

“A friend from the Academy turned me on to this delicatessen in New York City…Lower East side more specifically…that makes the most delicious bagels with the whole schmear as they often say.  From scratch no less.  We’ll have to hit there next time we are in Sector 001,” Ming said with one of his boyish grins.

Hearing his answer, Arin commented, “That is very interesting. Doesn’t answer my question, however.” She shot him an unamused look. No roots to hold you down? Is your indigenous name, “Wanders in space?”  Arin added, teasing him a bit.

“That’s not far from what my Navajo friends were calling me.  And regardless of if I’d picked a deep space assignment or the path I did chose I’d still be dancing in this little soiree with the Dominion.  It simple felt like the path I needed to take.  Who knows what’ll be after the war though,” Ming finished with a bit of a wistful tone.   

He paused and said a bit more soberly, “I haven’t thought about any of that for a while.  First time I used this holoprogram in a while as well.  I got a message not long after the retreat from Betazed from my flight leader from the Tucson.    She asked me to live the best life possible.   I’ve started thinking very hard about it especially since I saw her die in that furball.” 

Was there grief in his words he wondered or was it his imagination?  He hoped that his famous …. or infamous …. poker face didn’t fail him.

Knowing when not to break out the toolbox was just as important when it came to emotions. Staying in the moment, she stoked the fire and refilled the glasses.   

Marcus gazed into the fire as it was stoked and as the drinks refilled.  After a moment his gaze shifted to Arin.  He tilted his head ever so slightly and smiled at her as he said, “Life can be funny sometimes.  It’s reaction to a person’s choices and the whims of … fate, luck, a universal butterfly effect .. whatever one prefers to call it.   Past events make us who we are.  We become what we chose to be.   Wherever we go from here I am genuinely glad it’ll be with you, Arin Jones.   True friends can be hard to find.”

“The best way out for all of us together. Letting the Dominion split us into factions was the issue to begin with. Though no one in either quadrant can claim good guy status all the time. And while I know the solution won’t be tomorrow, I’d just like to be part of the bloody conversation to fix it.” Arin said, slightly annoyed at the situation everyone was in. To punctuate the sentence, she threw the last drops of whiskey into the fire, creating a small bloom of fire. “Thanks. If people just stop lying to each other, it can be so much easier to get along.”

Ming nodded and replied, “The Dominion would love to see back biting among the Alliance.  Luckily that is nary an issue aside from the damned shape shifter infiltrators.  I never was big on lies.  Too hard to keep it all straight as the lies get bigger.  Honesty is damned near always easier to keep track of in my experience. Thus I prefer honesty.  Life’s got too many twist and turns without BSing anyone beyond innocent ribbing perhaps.  It’s just too much effort.”  

“War is something this part of space had a problem with centuries before the Dominion showed up.” Arin offered. Plus, we can’t divide the shapeshifters. The Jem’Hadar and Weyoun donkeys are bound genetically to believe the shapeshifters are Gods. So, that leaves the Cardassian angle. Or just build more guns.” Arin paused, then added. Though you’re missing horses, leather saddles, and such.” She mimicked a pistol, each finger and thumb, and made a menacing face at Marcus.  

“Mainly skirmishes for the better part of the past century.  Some were longer and more vicious than others, but nothing close to a real, drawn-out war.  The Earth Romulan War might’ve been close but the Cold War with the Klingons weren’t quite a match for this.  I mean, The Klingons were lukewarm friends at best, and the Romulans were standoffish before the Dominion’s aggression, to put it nicely. Now the Klingons are staunch allies and the Romulans are ALMOST warm and friendly. 

Pardon my language, but that just shows how big of a shitshow this war is.  Betazed wasn’t a battle.  It was a slaughter en-mass with a 2:1 advantage held by the Dominion.  Unfortunately, this is a level of fighting this part of space hasn’t seen in quite a while.  I hope to whatever Gods that are left the like is never seen again.  Unfortunately, the winner, whoever that ends up being, will have to live with an itchy trigger finger to avoid a repeat of this horror show.  If not permanently then for a long while.  Sadly, the history books are rife with stories like that.  I’ve seen in many historical codexes between my history classes at the Academy to not long ago looking for tactical inspiration and, silly me, hope,” Ming said in a generally straightforward tone that was, for the most part, like he was offering a briefing. 

Marcus paused, then let out a slow, long breath, his eyes raising to meet Arin’s as he said, “I hope it’s not as bad as my worst fears.  My hopes for this whole thing are buried in cynicism and tactical mixed with historical comparisons.  I’ve run into too much disappointment, I suppose.   When faced with something this damned big, I’m not sure I can AFFORD to be overly hopeful, ya know?”

“The human race will survive. So will the Alpha Quadrant.” Arin said simply. “I’m not going to worry myself into an ulcer thinking about things I cannot change. What I will do is help you come up with devious things we can do to help change the outcome. Do our part. ” She up-ended her marble glass, refilled it, then tapped the bottle against Marcus.

Ming took the bottle, emptied what little was left in his glass and refilled.  He set the bottle aside and took a sip from the freshened drink.  He said, “Being an unholy terror in the eyes of the Dominion would be fine with me.  The Xoval mission was a good start.   I’m not quite bent on bloody vengeance but a few more solid vicious kicks in the arse would do nicely. I’ll take what I can get at this rate.”

Marcus paused for another sip of his drink and smiled, “Unlike some others out there I at least know when to take a break from all that from time to time.  Seems a bit unhealthy to do otherwise.  That being said maybe we can talk about other things. I did plan on this being more or a social gathering than a work retreat after all.” 

“You talk. I wanna ride.” Arin said. then added, “Computer, Arch. Add two horses, a Morgan, and a Palomino. With saddles. Also, change the time of day to an hour before dawn and add thirty percent cloud cover at high altitude.” Two horses appeared. An auburn-colored Morgan and a spotted fawn-colored Palomino.  The sky to the east became lighter, and streak clouds started to pop a hint of violet.  “Computer add  6 sugar cubes to my pocket.” Reaching in she walked up the reddish mount. “Hey there, lovely.” Holding out her hand flat with two of the cubes. It ate as she rubbed the patted the side of the horse with her hand. Grabbing the saddle-horn, she swung up and over, in one polish move.  “You coming?” 

Marcus smiled, and said, “Computer:  Replace Palamino with Sirocco from program Ming: Moonshadow.  Full tack.  Also add two carrots and two red delicious apples.”

The Palamino horse was replaced by a bay Arabian with a white crescent shaped bit of white on his forehead who stood at roughly 14.5 hands in height.  Ming checked the saddle bag on the horse’s right and smiled seeing the requested produce.  He gently patted the horse’s neck before climbing up into the saddle with practiced ease.  

Grinning at Arin he replied, “Ready whenever you are, Lieutenant.” 

Arin put a hand on the horn, and a foot in the stirrup, then swung deftly onto the saddle in a fluid motion. “Let’s go, donkey. ” She said while looking Marcus, sticking out her tongue and spurring the red morgan into a slow trot.Grinning, Ming leaned over the horn and said, “Not sure where this is going, little brother, but you put on a good showing you get extra molasses in your feed.”

He straightened a little, settling in, and didn’t even signal when his horse got underway and smoothly started catching up to the Denver’s Orion helm officer and her mount.  Ming couldn’t help but smile…The reproduction of his horse was a good facsimile from the start and became more and more like the original every outing.  

She’d spent nights on the prairies before with wind that seemed to cut through to your core. The wind was blowing but it wasn’t cold. With the sun starting to brighten the morning sky, the palette of colors started to mix and morph as the day begun. 

“There’s a trail that is especially beautiful this time of year…Especially this time a day and at sunset. It’s just over there,” Marcus gestured before turning his mount toward that direction.  His mount shifted for a moment. 

Ming chuckled as he patted then caressed his horse’s neck for a moment before saying to Arin, “Even Sirocco is fond of it.  We tend to agree on many things, actually.  I actually called him my big little brother.  He died a few years ago but I recreated him in the holodeck for whenever I missed him.”

Arin chuckled, “Computer, load character Joan of Bark.” An oversized Rhodesian Ridgeback appeared trotting along in sympathy. “Hi, girl. ” Arin offered, scratching her head. “I had her from age eight up to just past Academy start.” 

Marcus chuckled.  He loved dogs and always had.  He looked down from his seat on the Arabian’s back and said happily, “Hey puppy girl….Very nice to meet you.”

The pilot grinned and looked up after getting a few tail wags and a doggie grin.  He looked at Arin, “I think that this should be a fun time all around.  Only one way to find out however…..Shall we?”

The minute Rebecca materialized on the pad of the transporter room she stepped off and rushed to the control console.  Those jets could be back at any moment. Whoever was behind this attack wanted Vareal dead, and the Cardassians dead. 

Her fingers danced over the controls. As she did Jeter moved next to her and she gave him an appreciative nod. “I am reading only three Cardassian life signs.”

“Well, best to get them out of there,” Jeter’s hands deftly moved across the controls as he isolated and locked onto the three signs. “Energizing,” he said but paused for a moment as no one appeared before them, “To the brig that is.”

He tapped his combadge quickly, “Jeter to the bridge. Are you still tracking the fighters that attacked the prison compound? Any further contacts closing in on it?” Without a pause, he glanced at Varael, “Your people are exposed there; I would like to know if there is another potential attack heading their way.”

He sniffed the air tentatively. Sterile. Clearly, this beaming was no magic trick but the real thing. As he regained his senses over the action, Varael responded to Jeter, “I, too, would like to know that, Mister Jeter. If you can show me a map of what just happened, I should be able to help you find them.  Military aircraft like that take a long runway.”

“We’ll escort you to the bridge,” Rebecca said. “Ensign May, have security escort the rest of our guests to quarters.”

“Aye, ma’am.” 

Rebecca led the trio out of the transporter room, down the corridor and to a turbolift.  It was a short ride to the bridge as they stepped out. The image of the planet was being displayed on the viewscreen.

“Ms. Jones bring up a map of the planet,” she ordered. 

“Aye, Captain.” Arin pulled up the data from the ship’s sensors. Overlaying the jet’s flight from first detection to the direction of the egress led the attacking craft not only on the front viewscreen but also to terminals near Varael. Touching the map, Varael indicated any large airports nearby, larger city private runways, and even a few long straight roads that had bunkers in the past. 

The wonders that met his eyes and other senses were nothing short of incredible. Taking it all in, Varael waited for the ship’s crew to follow the Captain’s orders. 

”Do we have the location of those attacking jets?” Rebecca asked.

Jeter stepped over to the operations console and quickly pulled focused in on the jets. “There are 150km from the base currently heading North West. If they continue their current trajectory they will reach this military base,” he said highlighting one of the bases Varael indicated, “in the next 4 minutes.”

“There is no radiation in that region, we will be able to get a transport lock on those pilots if needed,” Jeter said with a smile. “They may be able to tell us who ordered the attack.”

Rebecca sighed and drummed her fingers on the nearby console. “No, let them go. The Prime Directive is still in play.  This is clearly an internal dispute and I can’t justify satisfying our curiosity.  We are already operating in the grey.”

“Captain?” Jeter said with a question left unsaid, though his frustration was clear to see. “What if their aircraft reported technical difficulties and we happened to save their lives?”

Having played arbiter and tribal harmonizer for so long, Varael understood the Captain’s position, though he didn’t like it. “Then can you beam me to the base control tower?” Varael asked. “I’d rather have the beast by the throat than hide while my people and yours suffer.”

Rebecca nodded, “This is an internal Luphirian matter I can’t stop you.  It’s safe to say whoever is connected to those jets also has our people.  Mr. Jeter do you want to be our representative? Being with their leader makes this more of an official diplomatic action rather than kidnapping pilots to question them.”

“I would be happy to Captain,” Jeter said, a face of cool determination settling over his features. “If we do find whoever is responsible for the attack and kidnapping of our people, shall I negotiate aggressively to get them back?”

“Mister Jeter, we have an expression. Don’t be afraid to bare your teeth when you’re right.” Varael said, pausing for effect. He then added, “We will need to be stubborn today. Hopefully with all our furs intact.”

Jeter nodded to Varael, “I appreciate the sentiment.” He turned to the Captain, “With your permission, I think it’s time we introduce ourselves.”By now, the crew should be more familiar with Luphirian’s looks as a wicked smile crossed Varael’s face. It was a mix of tension and anticipation. 

“You are dismissed.  In the meantime counsellor,  I want you to have a chat with our Cardassian friends,” Rebecca ordered.

The joined Trill tugged at her uniform and nodded, “Yes ma’am.”

Being placed in a position to deal with Cardassians was a bit outside of her normal duties as the ship’s counsellor, but she figured that she was adaptable. Cardassian psychology was a bit different than Trill, human, or any other Federation race (as they all were from each other) but the counsellor knew that adapting and being flexible was all part of the remit.

“Does every room in this ship smell so…sterile?” Varael asked Jeter as he followed him out. 

Jeter let out a little laugh at that as the turbo lift door closed, “Not every room but in general most are. Don’t worry though, we’ll be back planet-side in a few minutes and hopefully get hit whole mess shorted out.”

“Denver to Knight actual,” Rebecca’s voice came over the com.

Ming perked up as he heard the voice of his ship’s CO.  He responded, “Knight Actual to Denver…What’s going on?”

“The away team was attacked and Ensign MacKenzie was shot. Theta radiation from the warp explosion is preventing transport. I need you to play ambulance and the Ensign and doctor back to the ship.”

Ming’s face paled followed in seconds by a groan which swiftly turned into a soft but angry growl. Someone was going to pay for injuring his protégé…But right now it was time to care for her and her and her injuries.   

The CO of the Knights signalled back, his voice barely hid his worry and anger, “Understood. How bad Denver?  Can we load her in the second seat of a fighter with the doctor doing the same in a second?  Recognizing we need to hustle her from here back to Denver in nothing flat of course….It’ll be tight with two people in the weapons officer seat. A reminder of the obvious here but Valkyries aren’t as roomy as a Danube, Denver.”

“She’s dying Lieutenant. Once you are out of the radiation zone transporters should work so you don’t have to get back to the ship, just away from the effected area.”

“Understood, Denver.  Knight Actual enroute,” Marcus said seriously before closing the channel and making best speed to the designated LZ.   He didn’t know Aiofe well but he wasn’t going to let her die if there was anything he could do anything about it.  

Lupherian Triage Center…

Aoife lay on her back staring up at a polluted sky. Breathing was hard, she couldn’t feel anything below the waist, and yet she felt no pain. Her mind was fuzzy and she tried to piece what had happened together, but the more she tried the more disjointed the sequence of events became. 

“Wha… wh… what… happened?” She rasped which sent her into fit of coughing that sprayed blood.

Lavender placed her instruments down quickly in the medpack and eased Aiofe back down. 

“Don’t move,” she said firmly. “You were shot with a projectile weapon, Ensign. I’ve given you enough Terokine so you won’t feel the pain but you must, not, move. Do you understand?”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Aoife wheezed. She coughed again spraying more blood. “I’m sorry Doc…” Her eyes closed and her breathing stopped.  But something in her refused to die and she took a breath.  Her eyes opened and she continued like she had just been paused “… Sorry Doc. I didn’t keep your people safe.”

With one hand placed gently on Aoife’s clavicle to stop her moving too much Lavender skilfully dematerialised the bullet from where it was lodged on the inside of one of her ribs. That was one problem resolved, but Aiofe had plenty more that needed resolving quickly if she was going to survive.

“Apology accepted, Ensign,” Lavender drawled with a calm confidence that contrasted the rapid movement of her hands as she switched tools. Her medical tricorder sat on the ground next to Aiofe displaying her vitals. Lavender picked up a Cellular regenerator and started to repair the holes in her lung. “Between you and me neither did I. They’re Commander Nalam’s responsibility now. You and I will get back to worrying about them when you’re all fixed up, okay?” In saying this Lavender tried to give Aoife something to concentrate on that wasn’t her injuries. 

The roar of engines echoed through the air as Knight Actual descended for landing, the sound echoing across the square. As the canopy of the ship slid open with a hiss, Sh’iv wasted no time, leaping out of the back seat and onto the solid ground below. The rush of wind tousled her hair as she landed,  boots thumping on the pavement.

Ming stood up in the cockpit after switching it to ready idle with a quick code only he knew for a quick takeoff once he got back into the pilot’s seat and not before.  He looked around and spotted the Denver’s CMO and the young patient under her care he was to transport.  He ran in their direction and stopped short not wanting to interfere though. 

Marcus said looking concerned at the Ensign, “Doctor….Lavender…Captain Talon ordered me to land and pick up you and the patient in my fighter.  It’s far from ideal but it’s the best we can do in short order and we can squeeze you both in the gunner’s seat.  It’ll be close quarters but time’s of the essence as I understand it.  Seems that the reports were right.  Is the patient fit to move?”

“Barely,” Lavender commented, with some inner surprise at the use of her name. Ming had obviously been paying attention, even though the two hadn’t properly met that she recalled. She glanced at her medical tricorder to get a read of Aiofe’s vitals and started to stuff her gear into the medpack box. “Do your best to keep things smooth. What’s the word on a beam-out once we’re clear of the atmosphere?”

“Barring any fire it should be a smooth flight.  If anyone gets cute I’ll keep it as smooth as can be but we’re as sure as can be the immediate area is now devoid of anything that can act as Anti Air Artillery.  If someone gets cute I have Knights 3, 4 and 5 continuing air patrol and they’ll be covering us on the way out. One shot will be all anyone will get in the unlikely event someone does get suicidally brave.” 

He paused then added, “Captain Talon said we should be able to transport shortly after clearing the atmosphere.  If anything changes you’ve got the man who currently holds the lunar run’s record time at the helm.  It’ll be the smoothest hotrod run ever if needed.”

Sh’iv stared up at her commander as Aoife was being helped into the fighter. It was going to be cramped in there with the Doctor too, but Ensign MacKenzie was in bad shape. There just wasn’t the time to waste.

“Whatever that is going on the wing needs to be at full strength.  Put Órlaith in the spare fighter.” Seeing Ming’s expression she smirked,  “Yeah. I know, but she’s been putting five to six hours a night in the simulator. I hate to admit it, but the kid has skill.”

Ming grinned as he grabbed his helmet and said, “Good.  Glad you think so.  Knight 5’s gonna dust down in a minute or two to pick your ass up.  Órlaith’s taking my old Peregrine while you’re taking Abara’s.  Since we’ll be a flight of six she’ll be your wingman Sh’iv.”

Sh’iv frowned, “I won’t go easy on her.”

Ming’s mouth quirked upward on the left side as he said, “You don’t have to be.  Just do it in moderation.  She’s supposed to be learning about the Fleet.  The Captain believes in her and she’s my protégé so she’s my responsibility. Baring that in mind….Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” 

Marcus slipped on his helmet before he broke into a big smile.  He didn’t quite need to guess his XO’s facial expression as he heard her rather sharp and rather disrespectful response.  He disengaged the safety systems and got the other systems back to full.  All told it took less than a minute.  After a quick review of the board he looked back and said loudly, “Ready?!”

Lavender peered out from behind Aiofe who she was trying to support as best she could.

“Let’s go,” Lavender replied firmly. “Aiofe, we’re flying you up to the ship. This is going to be bloody uncomfortable but it won’t last long.” The doctor had that authoritative tone of Medical Professionals speaking to patients who were in distress or semi-conscious.

“Damn right,” Ming muttered.  He then said louder after a few more keystrokes, “Canopy secured.   Taking off….Steady, smooth and as urgent as can be keeping the second point in mind.” 

As his fighter took off he saw Abara’s fighter coming in for a vertical landing right next to where he was launching from.  He keyed into the primary fighter frequency and said, “Knight Actual to Knights 2 and 5.  2…As soon as 5 lands and goes lid up, take a seat in his fighter’s gunnery seat.  5, soon as Knight 2 is onboard, take off and make to the Denver best speed.  We need to get everyone back into play ASAP….Maybe a bit sooner.”

Knight 5’s basso came on the frequency, “Confirmed Knight Actual.  Touching down and popping the canopy.”

Sh’iv jogged across the lot and climbed inside, “Thanks for the ride.”

After his scanners noted Knight 5 taking off with his XO on board he had a thought.  He got back on coms saying, “Knight Actual to Knight’s 3 and 4.  It’s just you two for a brief time.  Me and Knight 5 have been ordered on a critical ferry run as you may’ve heard.   Knight 3 is in command while we are gone.”  

Ming switched to a direct and secure frequency he had set up to Knight 5.  He said, “Mr. Abara….New plan.  Stick with my fighter.  With Ms. Mackenzie in such rough shape I can’t maneuver much.  You and Sh’iv will need to be our cover, Druid.” 

“Of course, Marcus.  We got your back,” Knight 5’s basso voice rumbled over short range subspace. 

Ming switched the coms to active standby so he could hear flight coms, urgent coms between Denver and the ground.  He goosed the engines to coax a bit more speed out of the fighter.  He said, “Hang on back there.   We’ll be back on Denver in roughly two minutes.  I aim to get everyone back from this alive.”

In the other seat, Lavender was hoping beyond hope that the presence of Aiofe was masking Marcus’ view of her face, which was bathed in cold sweat and panic. It hadn’t occurred to the doctor until they had been shut into the fighter that this would be her first time in space in anything other than a large and dependable Nebula-Class since the destruction of the Starship Manitoba, an event forever imprinted in her mind by her being stuck in the remains of sickbay in the pitch black and without gravity as the large chunks of decimated saucer slowly rotated in space. She had spent her time groping in the dark for a light source and considering if she would die of cold or suffocation first. Fortunately that day the Jem’Hadar had wanted prisoners. But, since then Lavender had become somewhat claustrophobic, to put it mildly. She balked at the sight of space so close through the cockpit screens and stared at her medical tricorder, watching Aiofe’s vitals, letting the numbers bring her back to her medical training. She focussed on that, telling herself she wasn’t in a fighter at all and she was safe, over and over. She swallowed.

“Good to know you pilots set such high standards for yourselves…” she returned. Marcus probably didn’t know her well enough but anyone who did know her well, of whom they were precious few now, would have detected from the raised pitch and the slight waver in her voice that Lavender was not doing well.

Time was running out and at last Aoife’s heart gave two weak beats before stopping.   Lavender’s tricorder blared in alarm.

“Aoife? Aoife!” Lavender exclaimed. “Smoothness be damned, Ming get us to the ship now.”

“Knight One, you have cleared the theta radiation,  and we have a transporter lock on the Doctor and Ensign MacKenzie.  Lower your shields,”  The Denver’s com officer transmitted. 

Ming’s heart was racing worse than it often was going into combat especially with the anguished words of the doctor.  He tapped a few buttons with effecent ease before glancing backwards for a moment, checking the situation which looked worse than before.  

Returning his gaze on where he was going Ming tapped another button and said, “Knight Actual to Denver.  Shields down…Energize!”

[[Content warning: panic, reference to domestic abuse]]

Sickbay

Lavender flopped into her office chair wearily. The last half hour had been manic and filled with adrenaline, but Aiofe was safe. Lavender had repaired all of the damage done by the bullet, the projectile was removed, the exit wound closed and the damage to her heart and lung rectified. Now the Ensign was sedated and resting with pleasingly stable vitals. Lavender wanted to keep her under a while just to make sure her heart wasn’t stressed as the repairs bedded in. There was still much to be done, her team were still in Lupherian hands down on the planet, but Lavender just needed a beat to regroup. The doctor rested her head back and closed her eyes with the intention of a few seconds respite. But there was to be none. Images of her ascent from the planet in the fighter greeted her with every shut of her eyes. The normal calming blackness of the inside of her lids was punctuated with stars that moved and swayed with the motion of the fighter that in reality it was now somewhere many miles away.

“Fuck…”

Lavender opened her eyes. The relative comfort and security of the vast Starship Denver was entirely stripped away when in such a small craft. The starship was stable, vast, a huge building or even a small village in space, comfortable, composed and reassuring, with powerful shields and even more powerful phaser banks. The Fighter on the other hand bucked and jerked, the vast, cold hostility of space just inches from where she had sat cradling the ailing Ensign McKenzie. Lavender closed her eyes again. Even when she tried to wipe the dancing stars from her mind’s eye, they were replaced by the blackness of the stricken Starship Manitoba’s sickbay. Lavender’s balance buckled as her mind told her she was weightless again, drifting about with only the light of a PADD to stop from crashing into walls and biobeds. Lavender gripped the arms of her chair. The wondering of how she would eventually die in that situation returned with force. It haunted her nightmares but she rarely felt it during the day. Her eyes popped open again and her vision blurred, the lights of the computer readouts on the opposite wall casting lines of colour across her Vision like a swaying camera.

“Get a fucking grip, Lavender…”

The Doctor started to breathe more intentionally, to setup a calming rhythm. She had learned the 4-7-8 technique years before that did still help to calm her in moments of anxiety. She thought of something cheerful. She thought of Arin and her jokes to try to calm herself.

“Grape juice and torpedo coolant. Grape juice and torpedo coolant.”

Thoughts of Arin inevitably led to thoughts of fighters. It was only then that Lavender’s brain clued her in to the concept that she may need to return to the planet. She may need to return the way she came up, in a fighter.

“No no no no no no no no no…”

Lavender gripped the arms of her chair hard, her nails digging into the cushioned upholstery. Her eyes were wide open, but the comfort of the bright lights of sick bay was null. Sweat started to appear all over, making her shiver in the cold. Lavender didn’t notice it much. She was more concerned with the fact that the colour seemed to have drained entirely from her vision. What had been an orange and blue ACARS panel, blurred by panic but coloured none-the-less was now greyscale. She gasped, her breath shuddering in her chest.

“Lavender, I just wanted to check with you…” it was one of the nurses who approached the office door and took a step inside.

“GET OUT!” Lavender screeched, her voice gutteral and wild and utterly alien to how she usually sounded. It was sadly familiar though, it was the sound her mother had made when her father had been beating her, or was just about to. The nurse turned-tail and departed hastily without a word. You’ll get complaints about me. The words she had spoken to Captain Talon echoed again in her confused mind. She couldn’t even apologise or explain. What would she do, admit to having a complete and fall-apart panic attack in her own office in the middle of the day in the middle of a crisis? Lavender tried to breathe. Her mouth was dry as hard, cracked earth.

The office was a black and white movie still, and this only served to fuel Lavender’s panic even more. She gasped for breath, her heart hammered in her chest. Beads of sweat formed on her face even through her foundation, ruining the smooth, unblemished facade of her mask. Lavender’s vision tunnelled. The edges were a blur, all she could see was the ACARS panel now, but it seemed much further away than the three metres or so it actually was. Lavender’s hand rose from its comforting grip to hover over her com badge in a move that was jarring to what grasp remained to her of reality and yet may become necessary. She may need help. Doctor as she was, Lavender wasn’t entirely sure what was happening to her. Perhaps a sedative would help but there was no chance she could get to a hypospray unaided. She sat a moment, her hand hovering two inches over her badge. Things had stablised. They were still bizarre and petrifying, but they were stable.

Lavender listened to her own breaths a while, she felt the beads of cold sweat on her face, she felt for the first time the wetness of sweat between her back and her uniform. She listened to her own exhales, made artificially loud by forcing the air through her teeth, 4-7-8 style. The hand returned to the arm of her chair, slowly. She felt the band of her sports bra exerting pressure on her rib cage, usually a feeling dialled out by her mind, consigned into irrelevance for her day-to-day work. She felt her toes in her boots, her toes in her socks in her boots, she felt the warm comfort and softness of her socks, somehow saved from the moisture of sweat.

The C.M.O. had no idea how long she sat, taking in every feeling she could feel, using each to solidify her grip on actuality. Her brain reasoned with her that in the moment, she was in no danger.

You’re just sat in your office. Nothing’s going to hurt you. Nothing’s going to hurt you. Nothing’s going to hurt you. Nothing’s going to hurt you.

In time, her periphery came back into focus.

Good, that’s progress. Keep going. Breathe slow. 

Lavender could now read the text on the ACARS screen opposite. She looked to the computer terminal on her desk which was now also legible. She listened to her breaths, fast, but slowing. The sixteen millimetre Kodachrome film of her office slowly graduated to Technicolor, starting in the middle, until her surroundings looked vaguely normal again. Lavender thanked whatever deities may or may not exist.

She felt sick. Shakily Lavender stood, grasping the edges of her desk and she sidestepped slowly around it like an old movie star backing along an impossibly small ledge part way down a deep ravine. An experimental step, then another, another and another, her hand now released from the stabilising edge of the desk. Pride at being able to operate somewhat normally again. Her arms were out to her sides, regaining basic balance like a toddler learning to walk. Arm outstretched, she felt the surface of the wall opposite. Lavender stood, braced by her arms, facing the empty wall a while longer, making sure her balance had fully returned.

“Computer, water, room temperature.” Lavender snatched at the glass as soon as it materialised, creating waves in the surface that lapped over the edge and on to her shaking hands. She drained it in one, gasping for breath afterward. A bead of water ran down the right side of her chin and she wiped it away, smearing pale foundation on to the cuff of her uniform.

One more deep breath, come on.

Lavender pushed off from the wall. Without a single word to her staff she made for the door and exited sickbay at pace, making for her quarters.