Episode 1x01

 

 

Starship Bound (I)

 

Star Trek: Osiris

Episode 1x01:

Starship Bound (I)

Prologue

 

For nearly seven years Admiral Thomas Kelley had been the commanding officer of the Martian orbital shipyards known as Utopia Planitia and had seen the worst ravages of the Dominion war as battered ships came in for repair and new ones were built to replace those that had been destroyed or damaged beyond salvage. The war had ended less than eight months ago and Planitia had never been busier as impossible repair schedules were posted by the Commander-in-Chief to get Starfleet back on its feet. From his office Kelley was looking at the latest ships to come in and the crew transfer lists. Many wanted Earthside postings after their battle-damaged ships came in for extended periods. This was going to be his last tour of duty before he retired and he wanted to leave his mark but there had been no way to do that, until now. For most of his life Kelley had wanted to be an engineer and he had been until the bridge crew had been killed in a battle with an unknown species.

He had taken command and when the battle was over he transferred from mustard yellow of engineering to the red of command and never looked back. There were times when he wished that he was back on a starship but he knew that those days were over. In his hand was a padd with the designs of a brand new ship-class, the design that he had worked on in his spare time for the last ten years. Before the war began Starfleet Command had agreed to build the design as the latest edition to the deep-space exploratory fleet, the Sovereign. The design was put through its paces and eventually Starfleet agreed to put the vessel into production. Many had been built, including the new flagship, the Enterprise. Kelley often thought about his ship and now was no exception. He had finished looking over the reports generated by that day’s repairs and problems and was about to go home when his combadge chirped.

‘Kelley.’

‘Sir, a ship has just dropped out of warp. It’s another Sovereign-class and its commander is asking for a docking berth,’ his aide responded.

‘Lieutenant, why is this a problem for me?’ Kelley asked.

‘They asked for you specifically.’

Kelley had to think for a moment and then remembered that one of the berths had just been repaired. ‘Give them berth forty-seven. I’ll meet them there.’

‘Aye sir, Dgev out.’

Kelley sighed, suddenly thinking that his day might last for quite some time, much longer than he had hoped. He beamed over to the docking berth and reached the window in time to see the ship come in to dock. His heart stopped in his chest as he saw the sleek ship glide into its berth.

‘Kelley to Dgev.’

‘Sir?’

‘Who is the commander of that vessel?’

‘Admiral Astor.’

Kelley sighed. He shouldn’t really have been surprised. But he was surprised when she materialised in the berth’s transporter alcove ten feet from him.

‘What do you think of her?’

‘What am I supposed to think? She’s my baby. Why is this one so important?’

‘Because it just rolled off the production line,’ she answered.

‘Why bring her here, do you have a plan up your sleeve?’

‘As always,’ Astor smiled and then turned to face Kelley.

Admiral Geraldine Astor had aged gracefully. She was reaching her ninth decade but was still as spry as she had been thirty years before. Geri Astor smiled at Kelley and then she turned to face the ship.

‘At the moment she’s got a skeleton crew but she’s performed well above expectations. Her maiden voyage was a roaring success. The crew have already been assigned, except for the senior officers.’

Kelley looked at her for some kind of hidden agenda. ‘Who did you have in mind for commanding officer?’

‘My granddaughter,’ Astor answered.

Kelley grimaced. ‘She hasn’t been a captain for that long and I think she’s inexperienced.’

‘She’s your niece for heaven’s sake,’ Astor scolded him. ‘Don’t play devil’s advocate with me Thomas. I know you far too well. You know as well as I do that she’s much stronger now than she was before her ship was destroyed.’

‘I was thinking of that very incident,’ Kelley retorted. ‘Losing your friends…and lover…like that can be devastating. She’s been on Earth since she was rescued from the escape pod, and I seriously doubt that she’s been mourning her crew.’

Astor’s smile faded. ‘She has been mourning. I’ve seen her visit his grave almost every other day.’

‘You’ve been keeping an eye on her.’

‘Of course, she is my granddaughter and my only remaining blood relative.’

Kelley nodded his head in acquiescence. ‘Do you honestly think she’s ready?’

‘I wouldn’t be asking for her if I didn’t. I might be her grandmother but my primary duty is to Starfleet and making sure that each and every starship has the best command crew that it can.’

Kelley grudgingly admitted that. ‘I’ll call her here.’

Astor laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘I would appreciate it if you went to Earth to talk to her.’

Kelley sighed. ‘I’m far too busy here.’

‘Good, that settles it.’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’

‘Haven’t you heard?’

‘Heard what?’

‘Richard is shuffling the Admiralty around.’

Kelley sighed again. ‘Who’s moving where?’

‘I’m moving here,’ Astor answered, waving her arms to indicate the shipyards. ‘And Kathryn is taking my place.’

‘Chevolleau?’

Astor nodded.

‘It could be worse. How long do I have?’

‘You can go and talk to her whenever you’re ready.’

‘I’ll go as soon as I can.’

Events conspired to prevent Kelley going to see his niece for nearly six weeks.

 

Chapter One

 

San Francisco’s Presidio Cemetery was not actually within the Presidio, which was now the headquarters of Starfleet Command (as it had been for the last two hundred or so years), but located nearly two miles away from it. There were now thousands of graves, those who had died bravely in battle for Starfleet and the Federation and many whose names were only that because their ships had been destroyed. Commander Joseph San Miguel, formerly the chief engineer of the Nova-class USS Bristol, was laid to rest here in name only. Elizabeth Astor stood by his plaque as the rain poured down around her. She took no notice of it or anything else until she felt a presence behind her. She self-consciously reached up and wiped away the tears with her hand.

‘Lizzy,’ said the voice and she turned.

‘Uncle Tom?’ she asked. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I came to see you.’

‘Why here?’

Kelley had no immediate response to that and it was plainly obvious. ‘I’m sorry about Joe. I know you two were close.’

It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough but she understood the thought. ‘Thanks. We planned on getting married after the war. Guess the Dominion had other ideas.’

Kelley looked around and spotted a name that was familiar to him, to both of them. ‘I didn’t know that she was here too.’

Astor turned to face the plaque and another tear came to her eyes. ‘They’re all here,’ she told him and pointed them out. ‘Captain Margaret Astor, Captain James Astor. Commander Janine Kelley is out there somewhere,’ and her hand went to the actual graves.

Kelley faced her once again. ‘Come, let me buy you a coffee.’

The archaic phrase made her smile. ‘Why did you really come here?’

‘I have something that I want to talk to you about.’

‘What?’

‘Come on, let’s get out of here. It’s a little depressing.’

Astor had to agree with that and agreed to being led away with her arm in her uncle’s. They walked to a café about a mile away and by then the rain had stopped. Kelley took a seat and Astor sat opposite him. A waiter came and they gave their orders, sitting in silence until the drinks were in front of them and the waiter had gone.

‘So why did you leave your office?’

‘I’m retired,’ Kelley answered.

Astor looked shocked. ‘Since when?’

‘About three weeks ago,’ Kelley answered and took a sip of the tea.

She shot him an odd glance. ‘How come I didn’t know?’

‘Why would you, you’ve been on extended medical leave and not privy to top-level secrets.’

‘Your retirement would hardly be considered a secret.’

‘True, and what I have to talk to you about isn’t a secret either.’ Astor looked intrigued and Kelley saw his chance. ‘I’ve spoken with your doctor at Starfleet Medical and he thinks that you’re ready to rejoin the community.’

‘I’m not sure that I am,’ she retorted and downed her tea almost in one gulp.

‘I think you are and…’

‘And what?’

‘And so does your grandmother,’ Kelley admitted.

‘How did I guess that she would be involved. What are you two cooking up this time?’

Kelley tapped his foot on the floor, a sign of his thinking of an answer. ‘Your grandmother has taken over my post.’

That made Astor sit up. ‘How come?’

‘Last tour of duty, like mine. She wants to retire.’

‘At nearly ninety, I’m not surprised. Most retire a good twenty years earlier.’

‘As the former Director of Starfleet Operations she made one final request and it was immediately granted. The Commander-in-Chief signed the orders straight away.’

‘What orders?’

‘For a new ship to be temporarily assigned to her until a replacement could be found,’ Kelley answered her question in such a tone of voice that she couldn’t mistake the intention.

‘Me?’

Kelley nodded as he downed the rest of his tea.

‘I don’t think I’m ready.’

‘Well, your grandmother thinks you are because she’s been talking to her replacement about selecting senior officers that you’ve worked with before. As many as possible.’

‘Who’s replacing her?’

‘Chevolleau.’

‘An inspired choice,’ Astor acknowledged. ‘And she just went along with it?’

‘Your grandmother has a lot of clout.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Well?’

‘Well what?’ Astor asked.

‘Will you accept the assignment?’

‘I want to see the ship first.’

‘Come by Planitia tomorrow evening and I’ll show her to you. I want you to wear your uniform.’

Astor smiled wanly.

 

At 1700 the next afternoon the striking figure of an attractive woman in her late thirties materialised on the transporter pad. Her dark brown hair flowed in waves down her neck and shoulders and made her look like a mythical siren. Standing at the transporter console was Admiral Thomas Kelley, he was the only other person there.

‘Glad you could make it, Captain.’

Elizabeth Astor was wearing her uniform. The grey-ribbed band covering the upper chest and black the rest of the way down with a coloured undershirt denoting the specialist division of science, security or command, and the rank pips on the undershirt.

‘I wanted you to come here so you could see the new ship. We’ll take an inspection pod so you can see what she looks like as we go slowly.’

Astor followed her uncle to the inspection pod and then stared out the window as the pod passed several docking berths. She recognised the classes and mentally ticked them off. There were Oberth, Miranda, and Saber. Galaxy, Akira and Freedom. Even a few Ambassador and Excelsior. There were some that she didn’t recognise and Kelley was staying quiet, allowing her the time to think. After almost twenty minutes he coughed politely and Astor turned her head toward the front of the pod.

Her eyes widened when she saw the vessel. It was the most beautiful sight that she had ever seen. The elliptical saucer section gave way to a tapering engineering hull from which the two graceful nacelles sprouted. The design was stylish, aesthetic but still practical. She felt a tear come to her eye and quickly brushed it away. Kelley directed the inspection pod to virtually float past the huge vessel.

‘Wow,’ was Astor’s first vocalised thought.

‘Twenty-four decks,’ Kelley was telling her the specifications. ‘Auxiliary craft consist of six type-8 shuttlecraft, six type-9 shuttlecraft and four type-11 shuttles. The weapons are the brand new mark-IV photon torpedoes, Q-II quantum torpedoes and the type-XII phaser arrays, the new regenerative shield technology…’

‘All the comforts of home,’ Astor completed.

‘Exactly,’ Kelley replied, slightly miffed at not being able to complete the list. ‘What do you think?’

‘She’s beautiful.’

‘She’s yours,’ Kelley told his niece and she smiled.

‘Bring the pod around. I want to see her name.’

Kelley did so and as the pod reached the bow Astor could see the name clearly. She rolled it around her tongue as if was a sweet.

‘Sovereign-class,’ Kelley said to her. ‘Just like the Enterprise-E.’

‘Osiris,’ she muttered as if in awe.

Kelley programmed the pod to make another pass. ‘I need to tell you a few things about what your mission will be. The executive officer will give you a tour tomorrow.’

‘Who is the executive officer?’

‘That’ll have to be a secret. I like to keep everyone on their toes.’

‘Grandmother’s been a bad influence on you.’

Kelley smiled. ‘Starfleet Command kept telling me that it needed all the ships it could get to patrol the outer fringes of Federation space, just in case anyone tried to attack while we’re rebuilding our fleet. That’s the official line and I’ll be honest with you, its nonsense.’

Astor nodded but kept silent.

‘Many of the systems in the outer fringes believed that the Federation was losing the war or that the Federation had deserted them and they reclaimed their space, taking control of other systems as well. Many of the systems that the Federation annexed during the war had no strategic importance. It was just a psychological ploy as we lost more and more territory to the Dominion. Technically, it is actually Federation space but I doubt many of the races within those sectors realise that. Your job will be to remind them that they’re in Federation space and solve any disputes that might arise, either as a result of being reminded or just the fact that they’ve been on their own for years.’

‘And continue Starfleet’s mantra of peaceful exploration?’

‘Yes and no,’ Kelley answered. ‘Explore the sector, yes, but make sure that the sector is stable beforehand. See if you gain allies too, Starfleet needs all the help it can get.’

‘Shouldn’t be too hard,’ Astor replied with a smirk.

‘Captain, I have to warn you. Starfleet Command has assigned you the Serik sector. It has many problems and a fairly high number of inhabited systems, many more than other surrounding sectors. You’ll probably have your work cut out for you as soon as you arrive, before you get down to any exploring.’

‘Not a problem, sir,’ Astor told him. ‘We can handle anything that space throws at us.’

‘That’s the response I was hoping for. You’re not scheduled to leave for another two months or so, it should give you ample time to familiarise yourself with her systems and crew.’

‘You’re sure you won’t tell me who my executive officer is?’

‘No, these are my last few hours in this uniform and to be quite honest with you, I will be quite glad to enjoy my retirement.’

‘Are you going to find time to make a family?’

‘I’m nearly fifty, Lizzy,’ Kelley replied with a smile.

‘So, what has age got to do with anything these days?’

Kelley had to admit that several of his fellow officers had younger partners, often much younger. ‘Very true.’

The inspection pod had made its pass and was bleeping for attention. Kelley took the controls and piloted her back to Planitia’s main hangar. When they had docked and emerged from the pod Kelley’s combadge chirped.

‘Kelley here.’

‘Sir, Admiral Chevolleau is on subspace for you. It’s urgent.’

‘I’m on my way, Kelley out. Sorry Liz, we’ll have lunch tomorrow and I’ll hand you over to your exec.’

‘Thank you,’ Astor said sincerely.

Since seeing the ship she did start to believe that she really could be ready to be back out there. She felt that the great void was calling to her. Time to say goodbye to her neighbours on Earth for a while.

 

Chapter Two

 

Captain’s Personal Log, stardate 53704.9:

After three months of shakedown cruises my crew and I are finally ready to leave Utopia Planitia and any help that Starfleet and the Federation can provide in difficulty. Admiral Kelley was right, I have worked with most of the senior staff before but I wish that he had told me that he was assigning me Aaron Wright as my executive. He and I had been lovers once and it had ended badly. To be blunt about it, Aaron was part of my past and he’s now part of my present again. I thought at first that it would be awkward but it would seem that our previous relationship is most definitely relegated to the past. We have a very good professional relationship and I can’t see any reason why I should bring up the past. The Osiris is the most advanced deep-space craft in the fleet. My uncle designed a powerful little cruiser and I am honoured to be her first official captain…

 

Astor paused in her recording of her log as the door to her quarters chimed.

‘Enter.’

‘Captain Astor,’ the strong female voice intoned as the doors slid open.

Astor gaped. She had never met the Admiral but the woman’s exploits were well known. Kara Chevolleau was the now-legendary captain who had fought the Dominion and returned her crew home from the other side of the Gamma Quadrant. Now, here she was, standing on the threshold of Astor’s quarters.

‘Come in, Admiral,’ Astor replied and gestured toward a seat.

‘I can’t stay long,’ Chevolleau said but did sit down.

‘I wasn’t aware that we were being given a top-brass send off,’ Astor began.

Chevolleau raised her hand dismissively. ‘It is not what you think. The Sovereign-class starships—and the Osiris in particular—represent Starfleet’s newest technology and what I believe can be one of her finest crews. I’ll be honest with you, Captain. Since the end of the war there have been numerous bushfires to put out and I’ve got almost every available ship on it. The Corps of Engineers are fixing things across two quadrants and the fastest ships in the fleet are acting as couriers to ferry supplies here and there. You, and a handful of other captains, are spearheading our new era of exploration.

‘In the last ten years Starfleet and the Federation have faced the Borg, the Cardassians, Klingons, and the Dominion. We’ve lost our way over the last fifty years and I for one think it’s time to do what we were chartered to do. Unfortunately Fate has other plans. While the ships that we originally planned for the new exploratory era are currently putting planetary governments back together, Starfleet has decided that we still need that to happen and your ship has been chosen. The Luna-class ships are still in development and I know that certain admirals already have ideas for who will command them, but I was holding out for you.

‘Sorry about being unable to wait, but I do have several obligations to juggle. Hopefully you won’t be diverted in the next few hours. I just came here to wish you good luck and to say that, for the moment, you are Starfleet’s only vessel in Operation: Explore.’

‘Admiral, shouldn’t we wait around in case anyone needs help?’

‘I’ve got plenty of ships to help. Starfleet Medical has just bullied the Admiralty into providing six new medical ships and Captain Scott at the Corps of Engineers is pushing for more ships, but we haven’t got enough engineers to staff them.’

‘So we should be out there looking for friends and exploring every cubic millimetre of our fair galaxy,’ Astor returned to Chevolleau’s smile.

Chevolleau was about to say more when her combadge chirped. ‘Chevolleau here.’

‘Admiral? It’s Commander Tyrex. We’ve just received a distress call from the Clementine, they’re stuck in a minefield that shouldn’t be there.’

‘Talk to Captain Scott, send his engineers out there, Chevolleau out. Sorry about that, Captain. Where were we? Ah yes. Exploring your little sector might not seem glamorous but it is needed. The Federation have a lot of protectorates in the far reaches and they need our help, they need to know that we’re still here.’

‘They will, Admiral,’ Astor replied. ‘Some may join and others may wish to trade but I’m aware that none of the above will happen if the balance of power in the sector is upset.’

‘Good answer. Well, I’ll leave you to your last minute preparations. Once again, good luck.’

‘Thank you Admiral.’

Once Chevolleau was gone, Astor looked at the chronometer in her quarters and realised that her personal log would have to wait. She had to launch within the next two hours.

 

Those two hours passed quickly and Astor took her seat on the bridge. Her senior officers were all seated at their stations and they were ready to go.

‘Lieutenant Talen,’ she said, talking to the Aenar Operations officer, ‘signal the Dockmaster that we are ready to depart.’

The Operations console was next to the Conn console, at the front of the bridge. ‘Aye sir,’ Talen replied and his fingers flew across the console.

The Aenar had met Astor during the war, at a layover on Deep Space Nine. He’d expressed a wish to be transferred and Commander Astor had got him assigned as operations officer on the ship she was first officer on, the Nova-class Bristol. Talen had stayed on the Bristol until it was destroyed. He was one of only eleven to survive.

‘Dockmaster to Osiris, you are clear for departure. Spacedock out.’

‘Cast off all mooring lines and set thrusters to station-keeping,’ Astor continued.

‘Mooring lines away,’ Talen responded.

‘All departments report operational,’ Commander Aaron Wright added.

Wright remembered serving with her, while she was a Lieutenant Commander, on the Miranda-class Ulster where she saved his life twice. Once from an exploding conduit after a battle with the Cardassians and the second time on an away mission to a planet where civil war was rife.

‘Ensign Larson, one-tenth impulse until we clear the dock.’

‘Aye sir,’ the Human helmsman replied.

Larson had only just graduated from Starfleet Academy. But Astor had known his father, had served with his father on the Ambassador-class Newbury while she was an Ensign and, in typical Starfleet fashion, had promised that if his son graduated then she would pick him to be under her command. John Larson died during the war, when the Newbury was destroyed. He was the Captain and went down with the ship. He was the only one that didn’t survive. Larson had been the Captain of the Newbury for thirty-one years. If Larson was even half the man his father was then he would be a bonus for any Captain. He had the massive helm console to himself at the very front of the bridge, just a little back from the viewscreen.

The lights on the Osiris’ hull lit up with intensity, showing to all and sundry that she was ready and she was going. Larson engaged the impulse engines and the sleek starship glided out of the massive docking berth where she had been since arriving a few months ago to undergo final tests and get her full crew complement. Astor’s eyes glowed as she watched the spacedock recede in the distance before the front-view was restored and the vastness of space beckoned to her very soul once more.

‘As soon as we clear the system go to maximum warp,’ she advised Larson. We want to reach our assigned patrol sector as quickly as possible.’

‘Aye sir,’ the helmsman responded.

*          *          *

Captain’s Log, stardate 53748.7:

After sixteen days travelling at high warp the Osiris has arrived in the Serik sector and we are making final preparations before we start our exploration. At present there are no problems for the crew to deal with, or rather, none that have been communicated to us. The sector wasn’t well explored when the previous Starfleet vessel, the USS Malvinas, was here as its only remit was to find allies against the Dominion. Commander Wright was the second officer on board at the time, under the command of John Stapleton, and therefore knows the sector better than anyone else on board. His knowledge will be invaluable as we try to maintain the balance of power here. Our mission here will be to solve the problems that will inevitably crop up and also to fully explore the sector, finding resources that the Federation can use and perhaps some inhabitable planets which might be suitable for colonisation.

 

The landscape and size of Renera IX made it more like a moon than a planet but it orbited the hot sun at a distance roughly equal to that of Earth in the Sol system and as a consequence was exceptionally hot even in what should be the dead of night. The same side of Renera IX always faced the sun and so night was an arbitrary period of time in the planetoid’s orbit. The cold side was too cold even for an unprotected Aenar but the hot side was just about bearable, even a Cardassian would have enjoyed it. It was an unusually high-gravity world and it was the perfect exercise for a man who had spent too much time in space and not enough in the gym. Even a stroll was likely to make one sweat profusely and this hike certainly made Commander Aaron Wright sweat. Mount Valparaiso was his name for the highest mountain on Renera IX and he was climbing it without aids. Well, actually he was cheating.

The holodeck programme he’d had created for him gave him the sweaty workout he needed without any of the dangerous radiation effects that he would have had had he been actually been on Renera. It was the middle of the night on board the Osiris but the two senior officers were not asleep. They were walking side by side up Mount Valparaiso. Captain Astor was walking beside Commander Wright and talking about anything that entered her mind, it was her defence mechanism when she was getting tired out but she continued nonetheless, not wanting to falter in front of him. He suspected that she had requested a transfer after their relationship ended. But none of that mattered now, they had become fast friends and their previous history made them comfortable with each other. They had almost reached the summit when Astor’s combadge chirped.

‘So much for a night-time stroll in hell,’ Astor said sarcastically and then tapped her combadge to reply. ‘Astor.’

‘Sir, its Lieutenant Davies on gamma shift,’ the young voice replied unnecessarily. Astor knew very well who the gamma shift commander was, she’d assigned her personally last week. ‘We’re receiving a distress signal from one of the nearby planetary systems.’

‘Which system?’ Astor asked.

There was silence for a moment. ‘The Abanaki system.’

‘Damn,’ Wright cursed before getting control of himself again. ‘The Abanaki Triumvirate.’

‘Thank you Lieutenant. We’ll on the bridge shortly, set a course – full impulse.’

‘Aye sir, Davies out.’

‘Computer, end programme,’ Astor said, taking control of the situation.

The arid mountainous landscape disappeared, replaced by the brand new holodeck grid. She looked at her executive officer with a glare which told him that she wasn’t impressed with his outburst, but also conveyed acknowledgement that he knew what he was talking about. ‘Start talking, Commander.’

‘The Abanaki Triumvirate are very much like the Roman Empire’s political trio of Pompey the Great, Julius Caesar, and Marcus Crassus in around 60 BC, two and a half thousand years ago. The Triumvirate run everything within the system, much like the Vulcan High Command did about two hundred years ago. The Triumvirate are quite xenophobic. Well, they were when Stapleton spoke to them.’

Astor felt it polite not to make her view of Stapleton known to her executive officer even though he seemed to think the same of his former commanding officer. ‘But they’re supposed to be members of the Federation?’

‘They were made a protectorate during the war, like some of the other warp-capable species in this sector,’ Wright replied. ‘No formalities were ever observed because Captain Stapleton didn’t really care about the mission, he was just happy to be away from the war. When the Malvinas left, this sector was left to its own devices and I have to say that the sector was unstable then, but Captain Stapleton ignored me and the other senior officers when we mentioned it to him in a briefing. I know that the conversation never made it to his log.’

‘Commander, have I given you permission to speak freely?’

‘No ma’am,’ Wright replied, abashed.

‘I’m well aware of John Stapleton’s shortfalls, I made my views known when he came up for promotion, but the Admiralty overrode me. I was just a Lieutenant Commander back then, so what I said wasn’t taken seriously.’

‘Wish they had taken your advice.’

‘So do I, it would mean that we wouldn’t be here to pick up the pieces of his incompetence. But we’re here so I suggest we get along with what can. I suppose we’re probably going to be unwelcome if we start looking for a ship in their territory?’

‘Yes ma’am, that’s putting it lightly. They had formidable weaponry for a race have only recently discovered warp drive.’

‘Go and have a shower Aaron. I’ll meet you on the bridge. I think that gamma shift should be relieved. Our day is going to start a little early.’

‘Aye sir. Computer, arch.’

The arch materialised and both stepped from the minimal lighting of the holodeck into the muted lighting of shipboard night. Wright turned left toward his quarters while Astor turned right. Wright entered his quarters and walked directly to the shower cubicle. He felt the water cascade over him as he thought about Stapleton’s actions in the sector. The man was completely inept and privately, very privately, he was glad that Stapleton had been killed by the Dominion. The Malvinas was destroyed and most of the crew had survived, Stapleton and three of the other bridge crew also perished. They all blindly followed Stapleton and Wright was relieved that they were dead. He shook himself free of the evil thoughts and dried himself.

When Wright emerged onto the bridge fifteen minutes later, Astor was seated in the raised centre seat and the rest of the alpha shift personnel were seated at their stations. He blinked, the light on the bridge was brighter than usual for this time of night. Astor must have brightened it when she arrived. He took his seat to her right, in the central area of the bridge. He looked to her but she was glancing at one of the displays on the viewscreen. They were still travelling at impulse speeds and he was about to ask why when she started asking questions.

‘Do we have any more information on the distress call?’

‘Not yet sir, we’re still too far away,’ the Betazoid, Lieutenant Commander Sheena Gonzales, answered her as she glanced at her own console. The tactical console, as was roughly standard on most Starfleet vessels, was situated behind and slightly to the right of the executive officer’s chair.

She had been an Ensign when she’d first encountered Lieutenant Commander Astor. Astor was the newly-installed first officer of the Akira-class Edgehill and took Gonzales under her wing. The two became good friends but Gonzales was promoted and transferred to the Yucatan as second in command of security, possibly due to Astor, but she could never be sure.

‘The energy signal does look familiar,’ Wright interjected.

She looked at him when he did not elaborate. ‘Well?’

He took a deep breath, and returned the stare. He had to tell her what he found. ‘It’s Starfleet.’

Her eyes narrowed at him, as if to say “What’s the problem.” ‘Code one-alpha-zero, ship in distress.’

‘Sir—’

‘Commander, if that is a Starfleet ship then we owe it to them to mount a rescue.’

‘We should determine whether it is in fact a Starfleet vessel or a trap first, before deciding on a rescue mission,’ Gonzales replied, agreeing with Wright’s sentiment.

‘The signal is old,’ Wright added, looking at the information scrolling across the screen from the distress call. ‘From the oscillations it looks like it is repeating the same message.’

‘I want to know what that message is,’ Astor told them. ‘See to it.’

‘We need to get closer,’ Gonzales said from the tactical station, ‘to know precisely what vessel the distress call is coming from.’

‘Agreed,’ Astor said. ‘How close is the system?’

‘Half a parsec,’ Talen answered.

‘Captain, I’m detecting a vessel approaching,’ Gonzales said anxiously.

‘Hail them,’ Astor ordered.

‘No response,’ Gonzales added, barely giving the ship time to answer.

‘I recognise the configuration from my time on the Malvinas,’ Wright told Astor and the others. ‘It’s an Abanaki Patroller. Heavily armed from what I remember.’

‘Keep hailing,’ Astor told Gonzales. ‘What are its armaments?’

‘Comparable to Starfleet,’ The Betazoid answered.

‘I’ve got it,’ Wright said suddenly. His hands flew across the console as he double-checked his readings. ‘Sensors identify it as the Constitution-class USS Winceby, NCC-1734.’

‘Never heard of it,’ Talen said.

He was a self-confessed expert in ships of the line of the late twenty-second century but this one had him stumped. He thought that he knew every single Constitution-class ship ever built, the last he knew of was built in 2263, and he wondered if that one was built before or after. The Constitutions were all built at Utopia Planitia, so he doubted that it was built elsewhere.

‘It was the last of the Constitutions ever built, in 2265,’ Wright told them, reading the information scrolling across his screen. ‘Commanded by Eric Cavendish. The Winceby was sent out on a deep space mission to map the Alpha quadrant in 2267 but never returned. Starfleet lost contact in 2271 but didn’t have another vessel spare to go looking. It’s officially listed as missing, even after all this time. By the time another ship did get to the area all they found was a message buoy that stated the Winceby had entered some kind of spatial phenomenon.’

‘Well, we found it,’ Ensign Larson said from the helm.

‘Have you got the distress call yet?’ Astor asked.

‘Yes ma’am,’ Wright answered and played the message.

“This is Captain Eric Cavendish of the Federation Starship Winceby to any vessel nearby. We have been pulled in to some kind of spatial phenomenon and my science officer tells me that he is detecting some kind of temporal signature. We cannot escape the gravitational pull of the phenomenon…This is Captain Eric Cavendish of the Federation Starship Winceby to any vessel nearby. We have been pulled in to—”

‘It just continues to repeat,’ Wright added.

‘Where’s the Patroller?’ Astor asked.

‘Slowing to one-quarter impulse, they’re hailing us,’ Gonzales answered.

‘This is Captain Roti Kei of the Abanaki Triumvirate Patroller Totality,’ the man said gruffly. ‘You are trespassing in our territory. Withdraw or you will be destroyed.’

 

Chapter Three

 

‘I am Captain Elizabeth Astor of the Federation Starship Osiris. I was led to understand that the Abanaki Triumvirate is a Protectorate of the United Federation of Planets.’

Roti Kei looked at her with an amused grin. ‘That may well be, but where were our Federation allies when the Jumani Militia attacked us?’

‘Fighting a war to keep the galaxy safe,’ Astor answered honestly. ‘Against the Dominion. Perhaps you did not know about that?’

‘A war?’ Kei’s glance turned sympathetic but did not soften. ‘And this system did not concern you?’

‘Allow me to send you our data on the war. You can decide for yourself whether this war was worth our attention, diverting us from our allies in this system,’ Astor responded politely though inwardly she was seething at this aggressive upstart.

‘Very well. I will transmit this data to the Triumvirate Senate. They will analyse your information. Do not attempt to enter the system or you will be fired upon.’

The screen went blank and Astor sighed. ‘Commander?’

‘The Senate are the two junior members of the Triumvirate. One is responsible for the military personnel and the other for the general populace. The senior member of the Triumvirate is the Emperor.’

‘How long will we have to wait?’

‘That I can’t tell you, sir.’

‘Gonzales, I want to know everything about that ship,’ Astor told her tactical officer.

‘Aye sir, using passive sensor sweeps,’ the Betazoid replied as her hands flew across the sensor control panel.

Astor watched the viewscreen, watched the Abanaki ship, waiting for the answer to come so she could get on with her mission. Hers was the only starship in the sector so she would no doubt be very busy over the next few weeks. She knew that this was going to be the first of many meetings with representatives of alien cultures that had supposedly undergone a first contact (even if it was with Stapleton) and trying to bring them back into the fold of the Federation family. Though from what she could see none of them were at the stage the Federation would actually accept them into the galactic empire at large.

She would agree to letting them have their own territory to control without interference if that was what they wanted. Several peoples over the years had asked Starfleet not to interfere and though those races agreed to being Federation protectorates they also wanted Starfleet to maintain a presence in the sector but not interfere. She hoped that she could bring everyone in but then she also knew the type of problems that Captain Calhoun faced in sector 221-G, Thallonian space, as it was sometimes known, after the war. Astor was mulling over recent events that conspired to get her back into space again and smiled, but it was a grim smile.

‘Captain,’ Gonzales said suddenly with a tone sounded anxious.

Astor whirled to look at her Betazoid tactical officer. ‘What is it?’

‘I think they’ve just received a reply, the captain seems really angry about something, I’m getting strong waves off him.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘They’re hailing us,’ Gonzales replied in answer.

Astor placed a smile on her face, she should know better than to question her Betazoid tactical officer. The fact that she was a Betazoid actually made her a very good officer because she could tell when someone was lying and when they were going to fire. It had undoubtedly saved her comrades many times. Astor was lucky to have her and she knew it.

‘On screen.’

Roti Kei’s face appeared on the screen. He did indeed look angry and was not doing a very good job of hiding it, if he was even trying.

‘The Emperor wishes to grant you an audience on Abanaki Prime, against my better judgement. We will escort you at all times. Be warned, if you deviate from your assigned course, we will destroy you.’

Astor hid her grin at the oft-repeated “we will destroy you,” this man was obviously used to being feared by all who encountered him and the Emperor undoubtedly did not feel that way, hence the obvious animosity.

‘That is acceptable,’ she replied. ‘Lead on.’

The screen blinked out and the Totality started moving off.

‘Ensign, set a course to follow the Totality, precisely.’

‘Aye sir,’ Larson replied with a snicker that Astor chose to ignore. After all, she had meant it as a joke.

‘Looks like we’ll have to do some smart talking,’ Wright said.

‘As long as we can get to the Winceby it doesn’t really matter, does it?’

‘I guess not sir,’ Wright grudgingly admitted, but he knew it might not be that easy.

The Emperor was not an easy man to talk to, although Stapleton hadn’t been the best diplomat. Astor was a far better captain, and much easier to get along with, which might mean that the Emperor might be better to get along with, as long as Astor kept her cool. Wright recognised the signs that she had been beginning to lose it with Kei. It was her Bajoran side showing. After all, her people had fought a lost cause for sixty years and finally won.

*          *          *

Abanaki Prime was a beautiful Earth-like world with three orbiting moons, but it was the fourth planet (of seventeen) in the system. The Totality slowed almost to a halt as it reached an orbital position and the bridge crew watched as the lower section of the massive ship changed to a flat delta-like triangle. It descended into the upper atmosphere easily and Astor looked on with disbelief. The ship was larger than even a Galaxy-class starship and she could not believe that it was possible for something that size to actually land on a planetary surface.

‘Bring us into a synchronous orbit,’ Wright told Larson. He too looked surprised at the way the Totality slipped into the atmosphere.

‘Commander Wright, Commander Gonzales,’ Astor said, ‘you’re with me.’

‘Aye sir,’ Wright replied.

‘Lieutenant Talen, the bridge is yours.’

Talen nodded as Astor and the others headed for the turbolift. She directed it to take them to the main shuttlebay. As the doors open they could see a technician working on one of the type-9 shuttles, prepping it for launch. The Resnik (named for one of the ill-fated crew of the space shuttle Challenger in the late twentieth century) was ready and the three officers stepped aboard. Astor and Wright sat in the pilot’s chairs and Gonzales sat just behind them. Talen gave them permission to launch and the Resnik slid into space, following the Abanaki starship through the atmosphere.

The sun was shining brightly as Resnik came to rest with a gentle bump on the landing platform about two hundred metres from the Totality, which was venting something from numerous ports. Considering that this probably happened frequently there did not seem to be a great amount of pollution on the planet’s surface, so Gonzales thought as she glanced at the readouts on her screens.

‘What a beautiful world,’ Talen muttered. ‘A bit too warm for me though,’ he added with a grin.

The few Aenar in Starfleet had become accustomed to the warmth of human ships since the chartering of the Federation two hundred or so years before but still much preferred the almost-arctic coldness of their homeworld, a fact that most of the crew was well aware of.

Wright smiled at Talen’s comment but the grin soon disappeared. ‘I’ve seen this world before, but I was worried last time.’

‘Why?’ Astor asked, turning to face her executive officer.

‘Captain Stapleton, he dislikes dictatorships and he thought that this was one. It coloured his view of the planet and its people, and its leaders.’

‘So I take it the meeting didn’t go too well?’

‘Not in the least. We were practically thrown off the planet moments after we arrived.’

‘I hope that that won’t be the case this time,’ Astor vocalised.

‘Sir, if I may say so, you are far less arrogant than Stapleton and much friendlier to alien species, not to mention the fact that you don’t jump to conclusions so quickly.’

‘Thank you, Commander. Any more compliments might go to my head,’ Astor replied and Gonzales sniggered.

Wright shot her a sour look but she grinned at him and he looked away.

‘What are we expecting, sir?’ Wright asked Astor.

‘Problems,’ she answered. ‘Commander, do you have your phaser?’

‘Yes ma’am,’ Gonzales answered. ‘I picked it up just a moment ago.’

‘Do not surrender it at any cost.’

‘It’s a hand-phaser Captain; I can hide it almost anywhere.’

‘Good.’

‘Where?’ Wright asked with a conspiratorial grin.

‘Wouldn’t you like to know,’ Gonzales returned the smile.

‘Will it be detectable by any security devices?’ Astor asked, ignoring the looks that were passing between her two senior officers. She knew that Aaron and she were friends, but she wished he was more discreet when it came to Sheena and he.

‘A metal detector, maybe.’

‘I suppose you’ve hidden it where it could be mistaken for something else?’ Wright asked.

‘Yes sir.’

‘Do you think it wise to take a weapon?’ Wright asked.

‘Commander, the Triumvirate seems to me to be very megalomaniacal and controlling. I’m aware that talking might be no good and I need options just in case diplomacy fails. That is not a conclusion, merely an assumption.’

‘Aye sir, we’ll keep an open comlink with the Osiris at all times.’

‘Good.’

They stepped out into the sunlight that made Astor blink, but neither of the other two did so, both were far more used to it, having spent a lot of time planetside on missions. Astor stepped onto the platform as Roti Kei and a phalanx of guards arrived to meet them. Gonzales took note of the guards. They wore obvious military uniforms with what appeared to be projectile weapons hanging at their sides. It surprised her but then they might have spent more time (and possibly money) on their space travel than weapons. The insignia on the shoulders of the guards, and on Roti Kei, was an equilateral triangle slit into three sections. A diamond occupied the upper section of the triangle and then two smaller triangles beside it and she quickly realised that it wasn’t a rank designation because all the soldiers had identical insignia. The left triangle was in white whereas the other two sections were not coloured, just hollow shapes and Gonzales took that to be the division of the military, ruled by one of the two Senate members.

‘This way,’ Kei barked and the guards surrounded the three Starfleet officers.

He started walking and the others followed, careful not to make any sudden movements. Wright was looking around at the spaceport and thinking there weren’t all that many vessels capable of long distance spaceflight, most of the crafts he saw were orbital (at best) or transcontinental flitters. Astor was silent in front of him. Her eyes were on the city ahead of them. It looked like a mass of skyscrapers built in peculiar block formations. Kei moved left and all three officers saw a low building—well low compared to everything else, it was more than thirty stories high—with a much larger version of the shoulder patch that the guards wore. This one had all three sections coloured in white against the bleak grey of the building itself. Wright knew that the place looked different than it had last time though he couldn’t say why in particular.

‘This is the Headquarters of the Abanaki Triumvirate,’ Kei told them and Astor could see the security. The spaceport was actually closed off from the rest of the city by a wide river and Gonzales saw shield generators along the perimeter. There were more guards in front of the building and presumably hundreds more inside, as there didn’t seem to be any guards in the rest of the spaceport.

‘Who will we be speaking to?’ Astor asked.

‘Emperor Veuti III,’ Kei answered her. ‘He is quite old so you might need to speak up.’

That struck Astor as odd, especially in light of Kei’s previous comment. It sounded like the military, or maybe just he, was falling out of blind obedience to the status quo. It could be an asset. As Kei walked up to the wall Wright saw that there did not appear to be an entrance to the building but Kei touched his shoulder patch and disappeared inside. Astor and the others followed him and the guards came in behind them. Things had definitely changed since he was here last. Security was much tighter than it had been just a few years previously.

‘This way,’ Kei said and walked up a flight of stairs to a turbolift. He allowed them to enter and then the guards filed in and he entered last. ‘We’ll be going directly to the Triumvirate Audience Chamber.’

The turbolift sped upward and Wright felt his stomach contract. They soon emerged in a large chamber. Astor looked ahead of her and saw a massive dais upon which three old men sat, two on a lower platform and the Emperor on a much higher one. The Emperor looked down at the visitors and then banged a large gavel that looked too heavy for his frail hand to hold, let along bang.

‘Roti Kei,’ the Emperor spoke in a parade ground voice, ‘you will leave us. And take your guards with you.’

Kei looked ready to argue but decided against it. He ushered the guards out and then the turbolift doors closed. Once Kei and the guards had gone the Emperor stood up and disappeared behind the massive desk he sat at upon the high platform. Astor—with Wright to her left and Gonzales to her right in a typical, hierarchical, pyramid formation—stood firm until the Emperor emerged from the dais with his two senators in tow.

‘I apologise for the way that Kei has treated you,’ Veuti told them in a soft voice that sounded like it came from a young man. ‘He belongs to an old military family that have always been at odds with the Triumvirate on matters of alien intervention in our affairs.’

Astor glanced at her companions. ‘Does that mean that the Triumvirate wishes for the Abanaki people to join the Federation?’

‘I did agree to join the Federation, yes,’ Veuti admitted. ‘But I began to change my mind when messages that were sent were not replied to. We have had a war here ourselves Captain Astor.’

‘I apologise on behalf of the Federation for not assisting but I assure you we did have our hands full.’

‘I’ve read everything you sent, and I must say that you have my sympathies for your lost comrades.’

‘Everything?’ Wright asked incredulously.

‘Thank you, Emperor,’ Astor replied.

Veuti smiled. ‘Do not allow my age to confuse you. I may be nearly six hundred but my term of office is nearly up. I can read almost as fast as some of the computers on our world, a side-effect of the slow-aging genes. Allow me to explain,’ he added when all three officers looked surprised. ‘Every three hundred years a handful of Abanaki are born with slow-aging genes and many go on to become leaders on our colonies but due to the large concentrations of pollution in our atmosphere this has not happened.

‘We detected very little pollution,’ Gonzales interjected as politely as possible.

‘The capital city has the lowest levels of pollution but the outlying cities, where the slow-ageing Abanaki are usually born, have excessive levels,’ Veuti responded. ‘We are the last slow-aging leaders and we’re dying. I agreed to join the Federation so that my people would still have a leader when I died.’

Astor swallowed. ‘We’ll do what we can to make the transition easier for your people.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Veuti replied. ‘But at present the situation is not that simple. We are at war with our neighbouring system, the Jumani, and they are currently working on a weapon capable of striking through our shield generator.’

‘You should not be telling them this,’ one of the senators murmured.

‘Quiet,’ Veuti hissed. ‘They are our last chance for peace.’ Turning to Astor he spoke again in the soft voice. ‘Until the conflict with the Jumani is over there can be no peace. Now,’ he sat on the lowest step at the front of the dais. ‘What was it that you wished to speak with me about.’

Astor knelt beside him. ‘Our sensors have picked up a Federation ship on the fifteenth planet and we were hoping to mount a rescue mission.’

‘That will be a problem,’ Veuti said sorrowfully. ‘You see, the Jumani annexed the planets in the outer system, as we have annexed many of their planets.’

‘So we need to talk to the Jumani about allowing the rescue mission to go ahead?’

‘I’m afraid it is worse than that,’ Veuti told her. ‘That ship you speak of crashed on the planet fifteen years ago and the Jumani have enslaved its crew. I believe that they have taken something from the ship and are using it to build the weapon.’

‘Antimatter,’ Gonzales whispered, dismay colouring her tone.

‘What is this “antimatter” that you speak of?’

 

Chapter Four

 

Gonzales answered him. ‘Antimatter is the substance that Starfleet and many other races in the galaxy use as a power source for their vessels. But it can also be used as a weapon of the type that we have aboard our vessel. It is extremely dangerous and in the wrong hands can cause a large number of deaths.’

Veuti acknowledged the Betazoid’s answer with a tip of his head. ‘This would explain the level of radiation that the nearby asteroid field is emitting. They are testing the weapon.’

‘Captain,’ Gonzales said. ‘They could be killing themselves without the proper forcefields.’

‘Excuse me?’ Veuti asked, looking at Gonzales for the explanation.

‘Antimatter is unstable, Emperor,’ Gonzales told him. ‘If it comes into contact with ordinary matter, like a life form or gas or liquid of any kind, if it comes into contact with anything it can be exceptionally deadly, destroying everything nearby. Without the proper precautions antimatter is one of the most dangerous substances in the galaxy.’

‘You must stop this weapon,’ he told Astor in a grim tone of voice. ‘At all costs. Our planet will be destroyed if you do not stop them.’ Veuti switched to a more humorous tone. ‘The Federation cannot accept ghosts into its family.’

‘We’ll do what we can, Emperor,’ Astor assured him, ignoring his feeble attempt at humour. ‘But we must return to our vessel and investigate the matter as quickly as possible. It’s the only way we will have a chance of stopping them.’

‘Very well. You will a have free run in this system. And the Abanaki will gladly join the Federation once this disaster has been averted.’

‘Thank you Emperor.’

Kei was recalled to take them back to the ship, without the guards this time. Once they were in the turbolift on their way back to the bridge Wright mentioned what had been on his mind.

‘The Winceby must have entered some kind of temporal wormhole.’

‘And ended up here?’ Astor asked, trying to think about the ramifications of such an event.

The temporal prime directive was not to interfere with the history of any race, though several times such things had happened. She had reports from as far back as the mid-twenty-second century about history being played with by advanced alien races from the distant future. There was no far for her, or her crew, to fix the timeline and send the Winceby and its crew home, so they would have to do what they could to preserve the timeline and prevent the Jumani from doing more damage, if it was a temporal problem. Astor shook her head to free it of those very difficult thoughts.

‘It’s possible. If they have been enslaved we must rescue them.’

‘And restore the balance of power,’ Gonzales added.

‘By removing the Winceby and the antimatter from the equation.’

‘By opening a dialogue between the Abanaki and the Jumani,’ Astor told them.

‘It’s not going to be easy.’

‘It never is,’ Astor agreed. ‘But the balance of power here must be restored. We’ll try to save the Winceby and its crew, but if not then the ship will have to destroyed and the crew—’

She left the sentence hanging. It was something that none of them wanted to consider.

*          *          *

Astor was in her ready room after making the necessary log for Starfleet Command and was thinking about the asteroid field that they managed to navigate past. It was small, about eighty million kilometres across, a relatively new asteroid field. The next one would be harder, it had a complete orbital ring that was six million kilometres wide at its narrowest point, and the Osiris would have to fly through it to reach the outer system where the Winceby was. The ship was travelling through the system at full impulse when they approached the asteroid field.

‘Slow to one quarter,’ Astor ordered as she emerged onto the bridge.

Larson slowed the ship accordingly.

‘Its pretty crowded out there,’ Wright said, looking at his display.

‘Gonzales, are you detecting any ships in the vicinity?’

‘Can’t tell sir, too much radiation is interfering with sensors.’

‘Can you tell what type of radiation?’

‘It could be residual ionisation from antimatter explosions,’ Wright chimed in.

‘So they’ve definitely been testing something,’ Astor mused aloud.

‘Commander, could the astrometric sensors help us to navigate this field?’ asked Talen from the Operations console, turning to face him.

‘It’s possible. I’ll head down there and check it out,’ Wright answered after receiving the nod from the captain.

‘Ensign, one-eighth impulse, take us through slow and steady,’ Astor said as Wright disappeared into the turbolift.

‘Aye sir,’ Larson replied and his fingers flew across the console.

‘Captain, the Jumani may have listening devices in the asteroid field, to detect Abanaki ships,’ Gonzales warned.

‘Let me know if you spot anything out there,’ Astor replied.

‘Aye sir.’

‘Wright to bridge.’

‘Go ahead, Commander.’

‘I’ve plotted a course but it’s erratic and may change because of the trajectories of the asteroids.’

‘Send what you have to Larson’s console, and make alterations where necessary.’

‘Aye sir,’ Wright replied.

Astor was watching the viewscreen as the asteroids crashed into one another and the debris began hurtling toward them. Larson piloted the Osiris around the bigger asteroids and the smaller ones rattled harmlessly off the shields. So far he was following Wright’s course.

‘Big one at bearing 3-4-1-mark-0-3-9,’ Wright said from astrometrics and the bridge crew could see it too. It was massive, easily the size of Mount Everest on Earth.

Gonzales fired the phasers at the centre of the leviathan and it shattered into thousands of chunks.

‘Keep firing,’ Wright said over the comlink, ‘that’s the only way through. We need to clear a path,’ he added.

‘Ensign, you’re doing well, keep it up,’ Astor commended the helmsman.

Larson didn’t answer but adjusted the Osiris’ vector to avoid the larger chunks of rock. After nearly three hours of taking pot shots at asteroids and avoiding planetoids the Osiris emerged from the densest part of the field and into what appeared to be a clearing, there were almost no asteroids at all and those that were there were no bigger than starships.

‘It’s the result of antimatter tests,’ Wright said knowledgably. ‘I’ve seen it in reports from Starfleet’s early days, when antimatter explosives were tested in our own asteroid field.’

‘It creates a gap in the field?’ Astor asked.

‘It vaporises the asteroids that are there but because of the size and compositions of the field it takes several years for the gap to close.’

‘So we could determine how long the Jumani have had antimatter based on the size of the clearing?’

‘Theoretically, but it would only tell us how long it has been since they tested the antimatter weapon,’ Wright answered thoughtfully.

‘Can you use the astrometric array to figure it out?’

‘Yes sir,’ Wright said and a few moments later he provided the answer. ‘The clearing was created about ten years ago, by a number of antimatter explosions.’

‘Commander,’ Astor spoke to Gonzales, ‘scan for any vessels.’

‘None sir.’

‘Ensign, hold position here. I doubt that the Jumani will enter the field where they conducted the tests. Not sure that their technology matches ours.’

‘Aye sir.’

‘Gonzales, anything?’

‘No sir, but I am detecting a debris field, it looks like a small craft. Antimatter explosion destroyed it, about a month ago.’

‘A warp core breach?’ Astor asked.

‘Not likely,’ Wright answered. ‘The debris field shows no evidence of that.’

‘So it’s definitely not the Winceby then?’

‘No sir,’ Wright answered.

‘Okay, get back up here. We’re going to Abanaki XV, regardless of what the Jumani think about it.’

‘Aye sir, on my way.’

‘Ensign, let’s see what’s on the other side of this thing.’

‘Yes ma’am, it’ll only take an hour or so, the clearing is closer to that side than the other.’

‘Excellent.’

Wright took his seat on the bridge and turned to Astor. ‘Captain, may I suggest a course of action if the Jumani try anything?’

‘Go ahead, you know more about this region than anyone else.’

He vocalised his idea and Astor nodded, smiling at the tactical strategy that was more Gonzales’ forte than his. Meanwhile, Lawson piloted the ship through the almost clear path from the clearing.

‘Looks like they keep coming back,’ Wright surmised.

‘There is almost no debris in this path, they must keep it clear somehow.’

The Osiris was jolted by an explosion and Astor slid out of her chair. The red alert klaxon sounded again.

‘All stop,’ Astor ordered. ‘What the hell was that?’ she asked as she sat back down.

Gonzales took a moment to answer but when she did the answer was not what Astor wanted to hear. ‘From what I can tell, the stray asteroids in this path are actually mines, presumably left here by the Jumani.’

‘How are we holding up?’

‘Shields are holding, no damage. It had a small antimatter charge, so we know that the Jumani have the capability of using forcefields for a small amount of antimatter.’

‘Hope there are no more,’ Larson said, having only just managed to keep the ship from spinning out of control after that one mine.

‘Scan for mines, where there’s one there’s usually more,’ Astor told Gonzales.

The tactical officer was well aware of that fact but elected to say nothing.

‘Aye sir,’ Gonzales replied and calibrated the primary sensors for greater accuracy with smaller objects. ‘On screen now.’

‘Bloody hell,’ Larson croaked. ‘I hope you don’t expect me to pilot through that.’

‘I wouldn’t ask you to, Ensign,’ Astor replied and turned to Gonzales. ‘Can we deactivate them?’

‘The Jumani obviously have access codes to disable them,’ Wright answered, analysing the mines from his station. ‘We’ll have to use the phasers to clear a path for ourselves.’

‘But that means they’ll know we’re coming,’ Gonzales reminded him.

Astor looked pensive. ‘That can’t be helped, Commander. We need to get through and unfortunately this minefield is our only way.’

‘Aye sir,’ Gonzales said.

The Betazoid tactical officer steeled herself. With pinpoint accuracy she fired the phasers, destroying the mines one by one.

It was a time consuming process but after almost two hours they were reaching clear space and Gonzales noted with a sigh that the phaser banks were down to seventy-five percent of normal.

‘Took a little longer than expected, eh Ensign,’ Astor said with a slight grin.

‘Yes sir,’ the helmsman replied affably.

‘Well, it looks like we have a welcoming party.’ Gonzales’ sarcasm wasn’t lost on Astor and she gave her tactical officer a scathing look.

‘Hail them, Commander.’

‘No response.’

‘Open a channel.’

‘Channel open.’

‘This is Captain Astor of the Federation starship Osiris, identify yourselves.’

‘I am Captain Tyar of the Jumani Battle Cruiser Eradicator. This is Jumani territory and I respectfully ask you to withdraw.’

‘The Jumani are provisional members of the Federation,’ Astor advised him, unsure of the command structure of the government. She really hadn’t had time to ask Wright about it.

‘The Jumani Government two years ago, the Militia now has control of Jumani space. We do not recognise Federation ownership of this territory.’

‘Captain Tyar, the Federation do not own this space. You do, and you are members of the Federation, which means that you can ask for help if your people are in trouble, and we exchange technology and personnel. We will also leave you alone if that is what you want, but we must speak with the leader of your government.’

Tyar’s face contorted and a sound emerged from his lips. Astor thought she recognised it as laughter but the universal translator didn’t agree. ‘The Federation have no claim here. Withdraw or you will be destroyed.’

‘There is a Starfleet vessel on that planet and we intend to recover it,’ Astor responded in a tone that should have brooked no argument but Tyar had other ideas.

‘Then you will be destroyed.’

Astor tried a different tack. ‘Technically,’ she told the Jumani captain, ‘this is Abanaki space and they have given us free rein. Allow us to pass or it will be considered an act of war against the Federation.

To his credit, Tyar hesitated. ‘You are one vessel, we have many. You cannot hope to defeat us.’

Astor smiled and Tyar almost cringed. She turned to her first officer. ‘Commander, tell the pilots to man their fighters.’

‘Aye sir,’ Wright replied and did as he was asked. ‘Flight Operations to Hangar. Man your vessels. Open shuttlebay doors.’

Someone to Tyar’s left yelled something and Astor waited.

‘This is an act of war against us, you must know that we cannot stand up to Federation technology,’ Tyar postured as Astor called his bluff.

‘That was your choice,’ Astor replied and turned to Wright. ‘Launch the Armstrong and the Collins.’

‘Shuttles, you are cleared for launch,’ Wright informed the pilots.

‘Wait,’ Tyar begged as the shuttles sped from the Osiris’ main shuttlebay and took up flanking positions beside the Sovereign-class ship.

‘He’s charging weapons,’ Gonzales informed Astor.

The Osiris was struck by an energy blast from the Eradicator.

‘Shields are holding,’ Gonzales said. ‘No damage.’

‘Return fire,’ Astor ordered.

The shuttles darted around the Jumani Battle Cruiser as the Osiris fired phasers. The Armstrong fired at the ventral plating of the Eradicator at the weapons ports as the Collins did the same on the dorsal plating. Although the ploy hadn’t been rehearsed by anyone on board, the security officers played it well, using tactics usually applied to Fighter wings of the Federation fleets. It was clear from the haphazard firing pattern from the Eradicator’s tactical officer that the Jumani were ill-equipped to deal with it, a decided advantage for the Osiris.

‘Go for their engines,’ Wright yelled as Tyar fired at their nacelles and the Osiris shook.

Astor neglected to remind him that the Sovereign-class ship had extra plating on the nacelles to protect from just that of damage. Having nacelles rather than integrated engines was a disadvantage of some Starfleet vessels, the most notable exception to that rule being the Defiant-class, so when Kelley designed this one he included extra thick plating for the nacelles, shield generators, weapons ports and other sensitive areas.

Gonzales was coordinating the attack and all three ships fired at once, all hitting precisely the same spot of the Eradicator. Tyar’s engines started billowing smoke and he stopped firing.

‘Must have knocked out their weapons as well,’ Gonzales said. ‘We’re being hailed,’

‘On screen,’ Astor replied.

‘You win,’ Tyar hissed. ‘This time.’

‘Bring the shuttles back, Commander,’ Astor told him while Tyar was still on screen. ‘Captain Tyar, you would be wise to speak with your superiors and arrange a meeting between us and them. We have a lot to discuss.’

‘Aye sir. Shuttles, return to main shuttlebay.’

‘I will take your suggestion under advisement. Tyar out.’

The screen blanked out and the viewscreen showed the Eradicator moving off.

‘Nice work,’ Astor congratulated them. ‘Ensign, set a course for Abanaki XV, full impulse.’

‘Aye sir.’

 

Chapter Five

 

Abanaki XV had once an icy world but when Abanaki XVI exploded a billion years ago or so (creating the asteroid field) several of the larger chunks impacted the surface and the majority of the ice melted over a period of several hundred millennia. Life was able to form and the planet developed some unique forms of life found nowhere else in the known galaxy. Abanaki XV was now a water world with one large continental mass in the northern hemisphere and several long island chains in the southern hemisphere. As the Osiris glided into a high orbit it passed the two comets that had been caught by the planet’s gravitational pull. What surprised the bridge crew most was the fact that there was actually a small multi-sectioned space station in a low, geosynchronous orbit.

‘Is that thing functional?’ Wright asked. ‘It’s looks like an old twentieth century space station.’

‘The space station is sending signals to the planet’s surface,’ Talen answered, ‘but there is no one aboard.’

‘If it is an unmanned space station?’ Gonzales asked. ‘Doesn’t that make it a satellite?’

‘There is life support,’ Talen added. ‘The station is small but capable of supporting two people for a month or so, though why anyone would want to stay aboard such a vehicle?’

‘Has it detected us?’ Astor asked, looking at the antiquated technology and smiling, if that was a space station then they shouldn’t have too much to worry about.

‘No sir,’ Gonzales answered. ‘We’re too high for it to detect us. It utilises primitive scanning technology.’

Astor nodded. ‘Start scanning the surface, I want to know everything that’s down there. And intercept any signal coming from that space station. I want to know the second anything is mentioned about the Winceby or its crew. I’ll be in my ready room if you need me.’

‘Aye sir,’ Wright replied.

Astor strode from the bridge and as soon as the door closed to her ready room she collapsed onto the couch and held her head in her hands. While stationed on Earth, at Starfleet Headquarters in San Francisco, she had been taking it easy as Director of Information. What that really meant was that she was the person that made sure that the Federation’s Library Classified Access and Retrieval System (LCARS) was capable of providing information to anyone within the Federation and Starfleet, provided of course that they had the relevant clearance.

Personally she hadn’t believed that she was ready to be on a starship again—not ready to take command again—but after her uncle and grandmother had conspired to get her into that chair she had actually started to believe that she was ready. Since arriving in the sector, however, she felt that she had done nothing but order her crew to fight, and she really hated that fact. Every vessel that she had served on in the last ten years had been in battles with every major race in the quadrant, and she much preferred being on Earth. She knew, though, that if she had stayed there she would have been given a medical discharge and that would have been the end of her career in Starfleet.

So she really had no choice when it came to getting a command. If only she could keep up the pretence with her crew. Astor knew that she still hadn’t recovered from the loss suffered during the war. Her mother, sister, older brother, aunt and uncle. All in Starfleet, all killed by the Dominion and its allies. But the loss that was most keening for her was that of her lover, Commander Joseph San Miguel. Although she had served with most of her current senior officers before, and even been in a relationship with one of them, she had never really been close to any of them, except one. The door chimed and she reluctantly admitted the entrance of whoever was on the other side of the door. As he entered, she sighed and looked up, her hair covering most of her face.

‘Captain?’ It was Solian Brex, the ship’s Bolian chief medical officer and he was the one that knew her better than anybody else in the galaxy.

‘What can I do for you Doctor?’ Astor asked and smoothed her uniform.

‘From the looks of it,’ he answered, ‘I should be asking you that question.’

Astor had been serving on the Bristol, on patrol with the Excelsior-class Naseby, when both ships landed people on a planet for colonisation. The Klingons wanted to lay a claim on it and attacked the Starfleet ships. After a battle of a few minutes the Klingons reluctantly admitted their misunderstanding and Astor had beamed over to their ship to help with repairs. They had a disagreement with her on the repairs and she got into a fight with them. Brex was the doctor on the Naseby and he set her broken arm, then fixed up the Klingons. She had confided in him.

‘It’s just memories,’ she told him.

‘Bad ones?’ he asked, but it was clear that he didn’t believe a word of it.

‘Always.’

‘Elizabeth,’ he said informally, ‘do you want to talk about it?’

She glanced up. ‘No.’

Brex shook his head, and scratched the ridge at his forehead. Astor recognised that as his “fine, I’ll drop it” attitude. Brex switched on the padd he was holding and gave her the medical report from the battle with the Jumani. ‘There were no broken bones, but a few bruises from the last attack.’

‘Thank you,’ she replied and looked directly at him. ‘But you didn’t need to bring this to me in person.’

‘Are you sure you don’t want to talk?’ He asked, ignoring her attempts to get rid of him.

She knew that the blue-skinned Bolian could be persistent, it was a character trait of their race, and she knew that he wouldn’t give up. ‘I’m not sure I belong out here.’

‘Then we’re all dead,’ Brex replied seriously.

She stared him down. ‘Is it really that bad?’

‘If you can’t discharge your duties then I’ll have Aaron take command.’

‘You don’t need to do that,’ she replied and hung her head, running her hands through her hair.

Brex walked over to her and sat on the couch beside her. He put his hands on her shoulder. ‘I won’t have any other choice. This ship is my responsibility.’

A single tear formed in her eye and dripped down her cheek. ‘I want to have a command but I’m just not sure I can do it.’

‘Elizabeth, this is going to be a difficult mission and you’re going to need all your faculties. Tell me now if you can’t handle this.’

She looked up and wiped away the tear. ‘I can deal with this. I can handle my command.’

‘Good. I’m going to enter this in my personal log, which will be looked at by nobody but me. If, however, I feel that you can’t handle your duties I will mention it in my official log, then you’ll be in a world of trouble, don’t make me do it.’

‘Thank you Solian,’ Astor replied.

‘You’re welcome,’ Brex said and stood up.

She smoothed her uniform again and stood as well. ‘Doc, you’re going to need all your staff for what I hope will soon happen.’

‘What is going on?’ he asked, all business now.

‘We’re going to rescue a crew who have passed through a temporal wormhole and been enslaved for fifteen years,’ Astor answered. ‘Then we’re going to find their ship and prevent anyone else from using it.’

‘In that order?’ Brex asked lightly.

‘Maybe not.’

Before Brex could ask anything else, Astor’s combadge chirped. ‘Bridge to Captain.’

‘Go ahead.’

‘We’ve found the prison, but the ship is actually submerged in an inland sea,’ Wright replied.

‘I’m on my way,’ Astor said, sighing, and looked at Brex. ‘Business calls.’

‘I should get back down to sickbay, prepare it. I don’t suppose you know what condition they’re in?’

‘Sorry, no,’ Astor answered as she exited her ready room and walked through the short corridor to the bridge.

Brex walked across the bridge to the turbolift and the doors opened. Astor went straight to the rear where the large science console stood.

‘The sea is actually more like an ocean, nearly four hundred thousand square kilometres,’ Wright informed her. ‘Larger than the Caspian sea on Earth.’

‘Where’s the Winceby?’

‘Here,’ he pointed to a section of the sea that was highlighted.

‘Can we use the tractor beam?’

He looked at her. ‘Not really, it won’t penetrate the water and it would take more time than we have to modify it. We’re not the Corps of Engineers, sir.’

‘Okay, where does that leave us?’

‘We’ll have to take the Armstrong down to the surface and beam in from there. We’ll need to be close to counteract the effects of the natural scattering affect.’

‘Why the Armstrong?’

‘It’s the only vessel we’ve got capable of skimming the water,’ Wright answered.

‘And when we get down there?’ Astor asked. ‘I suppose we get it to work again and haul it out the water under its own power.’

‘That’s the general idea.’

‘If it doesn’t work,’ Astor said, ‘we’ll plant charges and blow the ship to kingdom come.’

‘Aye sir,’ Wright answered, trusting himself to say nothing more after seeing the expression on his captain’s face.

‘Next question. Where’s the prison?’

Wright pointed to a sliver of land ten thousand kilometres northwest of the sea. ‘It’s on the surface but I’m picking up a large ship, possibly a cargo ship.’

‘And they’re being held in the ship?’

‘Perhaps,’ Wright answered.

‘I hate to say this but the ship is our first priority,’ Astor said. ‘We need to know what the Jumani have taken from it. Can the environmental suits handle the pressure of the water?’

‘Yes ma’am,’ Wright answered. ‘At that depth they can.’

‘We need a plan of action,’ Astor said. ‘I’ll take the Armstrong to the Winceby while you lead the away team to the prison.’

‘Captain,’ Wright disagreed. ‘One of us should remain aboard in case of trouble.’

‘I agree,’ Astor replied a second later. ‘You’ll remain here. Gonzales can lead the away team to the prison.’

Wright’s shoulders slumped and she laid her hands on them.

‘Aaron, I’m going to the Winceby. I need you here.’

‘I was hoping that you’d stay here. The Osiris is a bit young to be without her captain.’

She leaned in close so that even Gonzales couldn’t hear when she whispered. ‘I need to sort myself out and an away mission will help. I need to feel that I’m doing something out here.’

‘Aye sir,’ Wright replied.

She leaned away. ‘You should be able to beam me out if there’s any trouble,’ she added. ‘Besides, if Tyar wants to play games you’ll have the Osiris to return the favour.’

‘Yes ma’am,’ Wright replied. He realised that he was actually relieved that he didn’t have to go on either of the away mission.

Astor stepped away from the rear science console and walked round the rail that ringed the rear of the bridge, then sat in the centre seat that conformed to her lithe shape. She pressed a button on her console and toggled the ship-wide comm line. ‘All stations, prepare for retrieval mission.’

Wright returned to his chair at the science station and reported back a moment later. ‘All stations report ready, sir. Medical personnel are on standby.’

‘We’re being scanned,’ Gonzales said as the Osiris maintained its orbit.

‘From where?’

‘The space station, it’s sending a signal down to the prison.’

Astor looked surprised for a fraction of a second. ‘Commander, keep an eye on that prison, I want to know if they launch anything after us.’

‘Aye sir,’ Larson replied.

‘Aye sir,’ Gonzales echoed.

Commander, on second thoughts, launch a torpedo and destroy that space station.’

‘Yes sir,’ the Betazoid replied and a quantum torpedo danced toward the ageing station. ‘Destroyed, sir.’

‘Nicely done, Commander,’ Astor replied.

‘Commander Wright, ready the type-9 shuttles and the Armstrong for launch in twelve hours,’ Astor ordered and pulled her eyes from the viewscreen.

‘Aye sir.’

‘Gonzales, select your best people for a rescue mission to the prison. You’ll be using the type-9 shuttles, if there are more people than expected, then use the type-11s, the type-8s are too small.’

‘Aye sir, I know exactly who I’m taking.’

Astor smiled. ‘Good, run drills when they’ve been assembled. Something may go wrong and I’m confident that the Jumani will know that we’re coming. I want everyone to be prepared for any eventuality.’

‘Who’s taking the Armstrong?’ Gonzales asked, a chief security officer through and through.

‘I am,’ Astor answered.

‘Then you’re taking two security officers with you.’ Astor was about to frame a response when Gonzales added: ‘They are fully equipped to handle the water, they’re both professional divers, certified by Starfleet.’

Astor smiled again. ‘I shouldn’t be surprised at that, should I?’

 

Chapter Six

 

Over the next few hours Gonzales took her assault teams through several programmes in the holodeck to make sure that they were ready for anything that the situation might throw at them. Wright was on the bridge—at the rear station—staring at the science screens trying to place the Winceby exactly and also making sure that the scans they had of the prison were top notch. He wanted Gonzales to be able to see every guard in the prison, so that she and her team weren’t flying blind.

‘Sir,’ he called the captain.

‘What have you got, Commander?’ Astor walked from the helm console—where she was talking with Larson—to Wright at the science station.

‘More scans of the prison. This thing here,’ Wright pointed to a box-like structure, ‘is definitely some kind of cargo ship and these other buildings are prefabricated, put in place as support for the guards who are looking after the prisoners.’

Astor looked at the screen. ‘Give these to Sheena, she’ll be glad of them.’

‘There’s one more thing, sir.’

‘What?’

‘About the Winceby. It’s on a ridge in the middle of the sea. But I can’t tell how far down it is, there’s something in the water that is preventing sensors from getting through with any clarity.’

‘Good work, Commander,’ Astor replied and patted him on the shoulder. ‘I want the prefix code for the Winceby downloaded to the Armstrong, just in case we have to control it by remote.’

‘Aye sir.’

Five hours later Astor, Talen, the two security officers, Lieutenant Chen and Ensign Snowcroft, and the chief engineer, Lieutenant Commander Xeris, were aboard the Armstrong, going through the final pre-flight checks. Astor was in the pilot’s seat, Xeris was at the engineering console, Talen sat at the Operations console, Snowcroft was at tactical and Chen was in the rear compartment, checking the environmental suits.

Gonzales had her assault team of twenty split between the four type-9 shuttles.

Astor activated the comlink to the bridge. ‘Armstrong to Commander Wright. Requesting permission for launch.’

‘Permission granted, Captain. Good luck,’ Wright replied.

There were only two senior officers on the bridge, himself and Larson. Wright was thinking about the people on the Armstrong. Xeris was the only member of the senior staff that Astor had not served with before and the person that the crew knew the least about. From what they knew, he’d been serving on a Starfleet Corps of Engineers vessel, the newest Saber-class, USS Galileo, before it had been destroyed by a Founder’s sabotage toward the end of the war. He was moved to another SCE vessel, the USS Musgrave where he stayed for eighteen months, before being transferred to the Osiris.

The shuttlebay doors, located on the dorsal stern of the elliptical saucer, were opened slowly from the terminal at the upper deck by one of the shuttle technicians. The bay was depressurised and the Armstrong drifted through the open shuttlebay into open space. The Armstrong’s impulse engines glowed a gentle red as it sped off, staying low on the horizon, toward the inland sea fifteen thousand kilometres away.

Wright activated the comlink to the other shuttles. ‘Resnik and McNair, you are cleared for departure.’

Both shuttles sped from the shuttlebay in another direction, toward the prison, to where the crew of the Winceby were being used as slaves. With no one to talk with about the situation, Wright was left thinking about it himself. He was in command of a starship on an alien planet in a dangerous system in the farthest reaches of Federation space. All in a day’s work for a Starfleet officer. Though Wright was a science officer he still had trouble thinking of the Winceby’s situation. It had disappeared over a hundred years ago into a temporal wormhole, or what they believed was a temporal wormhole, but had only emerged from it fifteen years ago, during the middle of a war in which they could do nothing.

From a biological point of view they would be fifteen years older than they vanished, and slaves for most of that time which meant that severe malnutrition and dehydration would probably be noticed in most if not all of them. Rescuing the ship from the sea would probably be the biggest job and it was in the captain’s hands, a captain who wasn’t sure whether she was ready for a command, let alone a command where they was likely to be no help from Starfleet. That was the aspect that worried him most, more than the actual mission itself, was that the captain was unstable, his former lover and friend was going off the deep end, and he didn’t know if he was going to be able to do anything about it.

‘Sir, do we just wait?’ Larson asked from the helm.

‘Afraid so, Ensign,’ Wright answered. ‘If Captain Tyar realises what we’re doing he may decide to attack the shuttles and we’re here to make sure that he doesn’t succeed.’

‘Sensors are detecting no incoming ships,’ Gonzales’ replacement at tactical, Lieutenant Alana Young, confirmed for them.

‘Thank you Lieutenant,’ Wright replied. ‘Keep scanning.’

‘Aye sir.’

 

The Armstrong took nearly half an hour to reach the sea, during which time Astor, Talen, Xeris, Chen and Snowcroft climbed into their environmental suits. Astor was piloting the craft while Talen continued to monitor the science console. Xeris was checking his engineering tools, making sure that he had everything needed to get a century-old starship started again. Snowcroft was manning the tactical console while her companion prepared all the equipment that they would need for traversing a flooded starship.

‘Coming up on the sea,’ Talen said.

‘Armstrong to Osiris,’ Astor opened the comlink that had been closed while they donned the suits.

‘Go ahead, Captain,’ Wright replied from the island nearly fifteen thousand kilometres away.

‘We’ll be skimming the sea in sixty seconds,’ she replied as she aimed the Armstrong on an approach vector to enter the murky blue water. ‘We’ll lose communications when we do.’

‘Acknowledged,’ Wright responded. ‘Good luck, Captain.’

Astor closed the comlink and the Armstrong came to a hover just above the water. Talen activated the Armstrong’s powerful lights and they pierced the murky shallows of the inland sea.

‘The ship is on a central ridge,’ he informed the captain as they scanned deeper. ‘We’re now scanning nine hundred metres down,’ he added.

‘Shallow enough for us to beam into her?’ Astor asked.

‘Yes sir. ’

‘It’s a wreck. How are we going to get that thing to fly?’

‘I’m an corps engineer, Captain. I can make her fly. As long as the power systems are intact, she’ll fly under her own power.’

‘What about the fact that she’s been submerged for the last fifteen years?’ Talen asked.

‘As you can see, the hull hasn’t rusted. There are obviously hull breaches, otherwise the ship wouldn’t have flooded, but if the engines are still intact then we should be fine.’

‘You’re confident about that, aren’t you?’ Chen asked superciliously. ‘I’ve served on Corps of Engineers ships before. I was on the da Vinci before the war, and they never had to deal with anything like this. What makes you think that you can?’

‘I can, let’s just leave it at that,’ Xeris shot back angrily.

‘Are you lot quite finished?’ Astor asked from the cockpit in a tone that provided the answer to her own question.

‘Sorry sir,’ Chen answered, glaring at Xeris.

‘Good,’ she replied, watching the depth reading on the sensors. ‘Snowcroft, you ready with the transporters?’

‘Yes sir,’ Snowcroft replied. ‘The computer will beam us in and then beam the displaced water into the lake.’

‘Excellent.’

‘Alright people,’ Astor said when they were all in the rear compartment, ‘let’s make this quick. Xeris, I want you and Chen to check out the engines. Talen, your job is to check out the antimatter storage pods and cargo bays. Snowcroft and I will make our way to the bridge to check out the main computer and see if the Jumani have downloaded it, and what else they may have taken.’

‘Sir, did you notice the escape pods as we came around?’ asked Snowcroft as she walked through to the rear compartment.

‘No, I didn’t,’ Astor confessed and looked to the others to see if they had.

‘They were missing,’ Chen told her. ‘The crew must have abandoned the ship and landed elsewhere on the planet.’

‘Where the Jumani picked them up and made slaves out of them,’ Xeris commented.

No one replied to that statement, knowing the rest. Xeris and Chen stepped into the transporter alcove and beamed onto the Winceby. Talen went next. Within ten minutes all five of them were walking through the flooded corridors of the Constitution-class starship.

‘We’ll have to crawl through the Jeffries tubes,’ Talen told them, ‘there’s no other way to reach the bridge or engineering. Unless our resident engineer can get the turbolifts working,’ he added, glaring at the chief engineer.

‘The ship is flooded so the turbolift system can’t work. This is outside of even my miracle-working powers,’ Xeris replied, not rising to the bait.

‘People,’ Astor said over the comm.

She decided to have a closer look at Xeris’ record when she got back to the Osiris. He didn’t get on well with any of the senior officers and had an attitude of superiority that even she was beginning to get tired of. Deciding to deal with the situation at a later time she put the matter to the back of her mind.

She pulled open a hatch at the end of the corridor they were walking along and a vicious-looking mammalian creature darted through it, shooting her a look of pure malice. She shook her shoulders as best she could in the environmental suit and gestured for Xeris to enter first. The engineer took out his tricorder to check for any more lifesigns as he couldn’t really bend. It read nothing so he checked the small diagram of the Winceby programmed into the tricorder.

‘We’ll need to crawl through nearly thirty tubes to reach engineering,’ he informed Chen as he put the tricorder away and climbed into the Jeffries tube.

‘Wonderful,’ the security officer murmured as she too climbed in.

She disliked small spaces and the Jeffries tubes in the Constitution-class ships were small. The Jeffries tubes were cramped and in the environment suits it was just plain restrictive to sanity.

Astor shut the hatch after them. ‘Talen, the cargo bays can be reached by climbing down the turbolift shaft. Deck seven. We’ll be on the bridge if you find anything, or don’t, as the case may be.’

‘Aye sir,’ the Aenar replied and walked down a corridor away from them, toward the nearest turboshaft that led down.

Astor gestured for Snowcroft to follow her. ‘We’ll use the Jeffries tube at the end of the next corridor. It leads to straight up to deck two.’

‘Sir, what about the turboshaft? Doesn’t one of them go directly to the bridge?’

Astor looked at the young security officer and then took her tricorder out. ‘Turboshaft eight leads to the bridge. Good thinking Ensign.’

 

Lieutenant Commander Sheena Gonzales, piloting the McNair, spied the prison and opened a comlink to the Resnik, piloted by her second-in-command, Lieutenant (senior grade) Lars Reich.

‘Would you look at that,’ she said to him as they got closer. ‘Maximum magnification.’

‘Unbelievable,’ Reich replied. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it.’

What looked like the “prison” was in fact—as Wright had suggested—a cargo ship that had been heavily-fortified and a small township had been built around it, presumably to make sure that the guards that looked after the prisoners needed nothing that could not be provided for. Reich also noted what looked like a laboratory complex and mentioned it to Gonzales.

‘The Jumani must have set up this base to hold the prisoners and to conduct experiments on the stuff they took from the Winceby,’ the security chief replied. ‘I agree with you, Lieutenant. That is definitely a lab complex.’

She turned to the ensign sitting behind her. ‘Are you getting any biosigns from the complex?’

‘Four hundred lifesigns by the look of it,’ Ensign Delco replied from the McNair’s science console. ‘A hundred and fifteen humans.’

‘A hundred and fifteen?’ Reich echoed incredulously. ‘We’ll need several trips and more shuttles to get everyone.’

‘I have a better idea,’ Gonzales replied. ‘We can try and get that cargo ship operational and take that with us.’

Silence greeted her suggestion but she waited a few more seconds to get an answer from someone.

‘It’s possible, but are we going to have to stun nearly three hundred Jumani to get to the cruiser?’ Reich asked.

‘This is one time I wish that we had an engineer,’ Delco said and that was greeted with a few unpleasant comments about the Romulan that Gonzales deigned not to respond to. After all, she didn’t like him either.

‘Can we seal any of the buildings from here?’ Reich asked. ‘Weld the doors shut so the Jumani can’t escape.’

Gonzales thought about it. ‘Not really, we’d only be able to do two or three buildings before they attacked. I think its safe to say that they’ve probably got ground-based weapons to fire at us with. We’d be under attack before we got anything significant done.’

‘What do we do then?’ Reich asked.

‘Hold on,’ Gonzales answered and opened a channel to the Osiris. ‘Commander, we’ve got a slight problem.’

‘Let’s here it,’ he replied.

She told him and filled him in.

‘Remember, Commander, Tyar fired on us first. This is a Starfleet rescue operation. All other considerations go out the window. If you have to shoot your way out don’t worry about how many Jumani are in the way,’ Wright answered, projecting strength into his voice that he did not feel.

‘Aye sir, Gonzales out.’ The line closed and she spoke to Reich. ‘Did you hear that?’

‘Yes sir,’ Reich answered.

‘We’ll use your suggestion,’ Gonzales said. ‘Take the Resnik and set down outside the prison. You worry about getting that ship operational. I’ll deal with the Jumani.’

‘Aye sir, Reich out.’

 

Chapter Seven

 

Gonzales slowed the McNair as she approached the constructed township. Reich veered off toward the prison ship and landed the shuttle about twenty metres behind it. Gonzales fired a low-level beam at the largest building and thirty Jumani Militiamen suddenly appeared from other buildings with weapons that looked to her like rocket launchers she might have seen in an armaments museum.

‘Shit,’ Gonzales cursed, surprising the others on board. ‘Raise shields.’

Gonzales’ yell was too late as one of the rockets hit the shuttle’s ventral plating. The shuttle rocked from the detonation of the rocket. Gonzales looked at the sensors and detected a small amount of antimatter.

‘Damage report!’

‘Warp engines are offline but nothing else is damaged,’ Delco replied. ‘That was a pretty good hit.’

‘I think that Tyar might have provided them with some information about our vessels,’ Gonzales suggested. ‘And that was an antimatter rocket. They’re obviously quite proficient with using the stuff.’

‘Can we make a defence against them?’ Delco asked.

‘I doubt it. Take five people with you and beam down. You need to provide me with some covering fire as I seal a few more buildings. We need to keep the place secure for Reich to do his job.’

‘Aye sir,’ Delco replied and pointed at five of the people on the shuttle. ‘Let’s go.’

Two at a time beamed down, armed with phaser rifles, and took up flanking positions. Delco led three of them toward a building that provided them with some cover as they took pot shots at the militiamen. Gonzales was able to seal three more buildings before she was fired upon again by a rocket. This time the rocket did more damage and the McNair rocked more violently than it had before. Gonzales fought to keep control and only just managed to keep the shuttle from diving, cockpit first, into one of the buildings that she had just sealed.

‘Delco,’ she yelled. ‘I need more covering fire. The shields are down to sixty percent.’

‘Aye sir,’ Delco replied. ‘Fargas, take out the one on top of that building, and then take up position below him.’

Gonzales gave up sealing the buildings and did a pass over the lab complex, scanning to see if there was anything there from the Jumani. She detected small amounts of antimatter and what looked to her like duranium from a hull, a hull that could only have come from a Starfleet vessel.

‘I want everyone near the labs to get away. I’m going to give them a little surprise,’ she advised her landing party.

Three of the Starfleet security officers ran for their lives as Gonzales fired the phasers at the three-building complex.

 

While his commander was turning the township into a mass graveyard, Lieutenant Lars Reich beamed onto the bridge of the cargo ship with one member of his team and stunned the seven militiamen that were on duty before they could even unholster their weapons. He took note of the uniforms. They had what looked like a communicator or insignia on their left breast, shaped like a diamond with a crystalline teardrop sticking out the bottom of it. Their uniforms were thin and looked like they would be no protection at all if the weather was anything but sunny. Reich ordered more of his team to beam to other areas of the ship and secure it while he tried to get it flyable.

‘McNamara, check on the crew of the Winceby. See which ones need medical attention and then beam them to the shuttle.’

‘Aye sir.’

‘Jenson, get down to engineering and see if the engines are salvageable. I’ve got power coming through this console but there are red lights on most of the boards. Probably means that the engines are offline.’

‘Yes sir,’ Jenson replied and vanished into the bowels of the reeking ship.

McNamara ran through the foul-smelling corridors of the antiquated cargo ship and slowed as he reached what he thought was the prisoner section. Two militiamen stood guard at the entrance to what McNamara assumed was the largest of the cargo bays on board. He holstered his weapon and strode toward the guards as if he owned the place.

‘Who the hell are you?’ asked one of the guards, holding what looked to be an ancient projectile weapon.

‘Starfleet Command,’ McNamara answered. ‘I’m here to relieve you.’

The guard looked at his companion and then reached for what McNamara assumed was his combadge.

‘I wouldn’t,’ McNamara suggested, aiming his unholstered phaser at the two men.

One tried to fire his projectile weapon. McNamara fired first and both men fell. He took the phaser off wide beam and switched it back to normal. The doors to the cargo bay opened and McNamara stepped through. The light was awful and the smell almost intolerable. He waved his flashlight around and saw crudely-constructed prison cells with six to eight prisoners in each. Walking up to one of them and shining the light inside, he saw Starfleet uniforms circa late 2200s. The crew of the Winceby cringed against the bright light and he moved it away.

‘I’m here to rescue you,’ McNamara said and they looked up expectantly.

‘Lieutenant Daniel Lehane, USS Winceby,’ one of them said, recognising his Starfleet uniform even though it was from a hundred years later.

‘Lieutenant Ryan McNamara, USS Osiris, Starfleet Command.’

‘Help us get out of here,’ one of them said.

‘Sure. Stand back.’

They did so and McNamara fired the phaser at the locks of each cell. After about ten minutes all the cells were open and the crew of the Winceby were free.

‘Where’s your Captain?’

The crew looked blank and then another one stepped forward. ‘I think they’ve been taken to another building. We haven’t seen them in months. I don’t even know if they’re still alive.’

McNamara thought quickly. He remembered Delco saying that there were a hundred and fifteen humans, making the Winceby one of the few Starfleet ships of the era with just humans aboard, but he needed to know how many there should have been.

‘How many people were on your ship before this all started?’

‘A hundred and twenty-nine,’ Lehane answered.

‘Thank you,’ they lost fourteen. ‘We’re trying to get this bucket of bolts off the ground so any help you can give our people would be appreciated. We have a medical officer on hand but we’ll see to anything major when we get back to the Osiris.’

‘I’m an engineer,’ another said and rushed out the door, quite quick seeing as how he’d probably been treated.

McNamara tapped his combadge as he ran toward the bridge. ‘Sir, the senior officers aren’t here. The crew think that they’re still alive but they’re not in the ship. Fourteen are dead, locations unknown, all others are accounted for.’

‘Thank you. Lieutenant. Reich to Gonzales.’

‘Go ahead.’

‘We’ve secured the ship. Have power but still need to check the engines.’

‘Give me all the people you can spare, I’m being overrun here,’ Gonzales returned and Reich heard weapons fire.

‘I’ll see what I can do, sir. The crew are safe here but the senior officers aren’t on board.’

‘I’ll try and find them. Gonzales out.’

 

Gonzales rerouted the tactical control to her console and did scanned every building, even the ones she’d sealed, for human lifesigns. She found four in one building but the last rocket fired by the militiamen had knocked out the transporter.

‘Gonzales to Delco.’

‘Go ahead, sir.’

‘There are four senior officers from the Winceby in the building at the end of the compound. I’ve sealed it but the transporters are offline, so I can’t bring them up here that way. I need you to get them out.’

‘We’ll get them out, it looks like the militiamen have used up their rockets, we’re just being shot with crude projectile weapons.’

‘Be careful, Brex will have a tough time fixing you up if you get shot.’

‘I don’t intend getting shot,’ Delco screeched and Gonzales heard the staccato burst of projectile gunfire. ‘Get out, Commander. A bunch of them have wheeled out a big launcher.’

‘I see it,’ Gonzales replied and fired the phasers.

The launcher exploded and the militiamen beside it were killed instantly. Delco fired his phaser—on one of the higher settings—at the building, unsealing it, and then two officers stormed in with phasers ready. Three men and one woman were chained to the wall and the stench was intolerable but the officers shot the chains with their phasers. The prisoners stood up as best they could as Delco entered the building.

‘Ensign Delco, Starfleet Command. USS Osiris.’

One of them stepped forward, a bearded man with severe malnutrition. But he still had a commanding presence, a true Starfleet captain, unlike Astor at times. ‘Captain Eric Cavendish, USS Winceby. Ensign, what year is it?’

Delco looked at him and at the other officers and then decided to tell them, rather than let someone else do it. ‘It is 2381.’

Cavendish looked shocked.

‘We think that you were pulled into a temporal wormhole a hundred years or so ago.’

‘And ended up here,’ Cavendish looked around and his tone was full of emotion and anger. ‘What about my ship?’

‘It’s in an inland sea,’ Delco answered. ‘My captain is trying to get it out under its own power.’

‘Is she a miracle worker?’

‘We all are,’ Delco answered. ‘I should tell you that Starfleet and the Federation has just been through a long war and we lost thousands of good people. The Klingons, Romulans and Cardassians did too.’

‘We’re all allies?’ Cavendish asked.

‘It’s a long story, but yes and no. An empire from the Gamma Quadrant tried to take over the Alpha Quadrant and it united almost everyone.’

‘Wow.’

‘Gonzales to Delco, how’re you doing?’

‘I’ve got Captain Cavendish here, sir.’

‘Is he well?’

‘As well as can be,’ Cavendish answered.

‘Its good to hear your voice, Captain. We’re having a little trouble out here. The rescue isn’t quite going to plan.’

Cavendish looked at Delco and smiled. ‘Don’t worry. Give us weapons and we’ll show you what twenty-third Starfleet are made of.’

Delco smiled and pulled phasers out of a pack he carried on his back. ‘Let’s go.’

Delco led Cavendish and the other prisoners toward the cargo ship as more militiamen appeared. All of the security officers, including those from Reich’s team and the senior officers of the Winceby, started firing and the militiamen started falling like flies.

 

Astor was on the bridge of the Winceby with Ensign Snowcroft. They were checking to see if there was any power at all to the consoles that hadn’t been damaged in the crash. Astor was crouched by the rear console trying to get an open line to the LCARS database and wasn’t having any luck. There was no power to anything on the bridge but she kept trying again and again, cursing when nothing happened. Snowcroft was shining her light under the science console and laughed.

‘Ensign?’ Astor asked with a glare at the young officer.

‘There’s power to this console,’ Snowcroft answered and there was a smile on her face. She shut the console’s hatch. ‘But I’m not sure why. All other power to the bridge is out.’

‘Xeris to Astor.’

‘Go ahead, Commander,’ Astor answered and stretched her limbs as best she could in the environment suit.

‘Have you got power to the helm?’

‘How the hell did you manage that?’ Astor asked.

‘You don’t want to know,’ Chen added over the comlink.

‘Thank you Commander,’ Astor acknowledged. ‘Can you see about getting power to the rest of the bridge.’

‘Give me a couple of minutes,’ Xeris answered and closed the comlink.

Snowcroft pressed a button on the helm console and it spluttered into life, flickering for a few seconds and then lighting up fully. At the same moment the lights on the bridge increased in brightness from near nothingness and Astor smiled.

‘We do indeed have a miracle worker on board.’

‘It looks like the thrusters are active but impulse and warp engines are both offline,’ Snowcroft said. ‘I’m not sure if they can be brought back online from what I can see here.’

‘Astor to Xeris.’

‘Here, sir.’

‘Commander, what is the precise status of the engines?’

‘Salvageable, they’re not damaged too badly, just offline. The warp core is still completely intact, so are the impulse engines. If she wasn’t in a sea she’d still be flying.’

‘Let’s see if we can make her fly again.’ Astor’s mind whirred. ‘Commander, can we pull her out of her sea under her own power?’

‘We should be able to with the thrusters—’

‘But?’ Astor asked, recognising the engineer’s tone.

‘I wouldn’t recommend it taking her into space. With all this water…’

‘We’d freeze to death as soon as we reach the upper atmosphere,’ Astor finished unnecessarily.

‘Talen to Astor.’

‘Go ahead, Lieutenant.’

‘We have a problem. According to the last information about the Winceby that we have in the databanks, there should’ve been forty-seven antimatter storage pods. I’m only counting seventeen.’

‘So the Jumani took thirty somehow,’ Astor replied.

‘Not necessarily, sir. The pods were split between two bays and there is a hull breach in the larger one, which could explain the missing antimatter. The Jumani could’ve just picked them up from where they lay.’

‘I see. Have a look in the other bays and let me know if anything else is missing. Astor out.’

Astor tried to think of what that might mean. Thirty pods contained an awful lot of antimatter and all that antimatter could make a very powerful weapon, or several. And if they’ve been testing weapons then they at least have some way of stabilising it. More technology they had probably stolen from the ship.

‘Astor to Xeris.’

‘Sir?’

‘Check out the impulse engines. I want to know if they can be used to get us out of this sea.’

‘I wouldn’t recommend it, sir. The thrusters should be adequate but I’ll need to reinforce the structural integrity field and the inertial dampers otherwise we’ll be thrown about.’

‘Even in the water?’

‘Yes, sir. I would recommend taking it slowly once we’re out of the sea. If there is still sufficient water in the ship once we reach the atmosphere then we will most certainly freeze to death.’

‘Understood, Commander. See what you can do about getting the impulse engines on line, I want this ship to fly under her own power.’

‘Aye sir,’ Xeris out.

The engineer sighed. Astor was a tough woman, even considering the losses she sustained during the war, but he knew better than anyone that she was nowhere near ready for a command. Lieutenant Chen, a very good security officer but a barely competent engineer, was looking over the information scrolling across her screen at the impulse engines control panel.

‘Commander, there’s a fluctuation in the impulse manifolds.’

‘What?’ Xeris said and strode over to the console quickly, as best he could with a bulky environment suit and walking through water. ‘Damn. Xeris to Astor.’

‘Go ahead, Commander.’

‘The power in the impulse engines is fluctuating, I’ll need to stabilise it before we use the thrusters otherwise we’ll blow ourselves up.’

‘Get to it, I don’t know how long our people can last out there, or even if they are still there. Tyar probably called for reinforcements.’

‘Aye sir, Xeris out.’

‘Sir, what do you want me to do?’ Chen asked.

‘Get over to the impulse relays and disengage the power couplings. If the relays blow we’ll have a few extra minutes to fix the problem,’ Xeris answered and starting rerouting the power away from the impulse engines.

As he rerouted power from systems that they were never going to use, he was thinking about why Astor was even trying to get this bucket of bolts flying again. There was already a Constitution-class ship in the fleet museum. And the Starfleet corps of Engineers had pulled the USS Defiant from interphase a few months before, so why did she want another one? Perhaps she was after the glory of getting another antique starship working again. Besides, even if she did get it working and they managed to sent it home under its own power at warp, it would be decommissioned as soon as it got there, the Constitution-class ship was well and truly out of its time.

 

Chapter Eight

 

There was a power surge just as Chen stepped away from the relays.

They blew.

‘Bloody hell, that was close,’ Chen screeched as she picked herself up from the floor across the room.

The concussive shockwave had been magnified by the water.

‘Xeris to Astor.’

He heard the sigh on the other end. ‘Go ahead, Commander.’

‘Impulse engines are offline, the relays just blew, but the thrusters are safe. We can leave any time.’

‘Good work, Astor out.’

‘Chen, get back to the Armstrong,’ Xeris told her. ‘Take her out of the sea just in case we need any help.’

‘Aye sir,’ Chen replied and left engineering.

Talen had finished checking the cargo bays and was making his way to the bridge when Astor contacted him.

‘Lieutenant, we’re going to try and pull this old girl out of the sea and send her home under her own power. You might want to hold on to something.’

‘I’m almost at the bridge. Give me a few seconds,’ Talen replied and the open doors admitted him as he climbed from the shaft.

‘Astor to Xeris.’

‘I’m ready down here, sir,’ Xeris told her.

‘Where’s Chen?’ Astor asked.

‘She’s back on the shuttle. Keep an eye on the engines.’

‘Aye sir.’

‘Ensign, get ready to pull a miracle.’

‘Yes ma’am,’ Snowcroft replied and sat down at the helm console.

She braced herself against the console and powered up the thrusters, making sure that they were fully charged, but didn’t activate them.

‘The thruster exhausts might be clogged,’ Astor mentioned a moment later, just as Snowcroft was about to engage them.

‘I just thought of that myself, sir. I’m going to try a full burn for a half a second to clear them.’

Astor nodded her head. ‘Good thinking.’

‘Thank you sir.’

‘Go ahead, Ensign.’

Snowcroft executed the half-second full-burn.

From Chen’s viewpoint on the Armstrong she could see the bright light of the thruster burn. The thruster ports glowed briefly and bits of oceanic plant matter, miniscule creatures and shells floated away from them.

‘A lot of debris just started floating away,’ Chen told them officially.

‘Let’s see if she flies,’ Astor said and sat down at the operations console, bracing herself.

She saw Talen doing the same at the science station. Snowcroft used the ventral thrusters at one-quarter burn to start lifting the ageing starship from the oceanic ridge. Chen watched in horror as the Winceby shuddered from the first use of power in fifteen years and started to slide down the ridge at an obscene angle. She tried to yell over the comm but her breath caught in her throat. Snowcroft lost helm control in the first few seconds and Xeris was knocked unconscious as the ship slid down the ridge to rest on the seabed fifteen hundred metres below. The outer hull groaned at the fast increase in pressure but because the ship was already full of water there wasn’t much danger of complete decompression. The hull wasn’t going to implode like it might inside a gas giant.

‘Chen to Captain.’

No response.

‘Armstrong to Winceby.’

No response.

Chen manoeuvred the Armstrong away from the lake so the Winceby could fly free, but the others were trapped on board. ‘Computer, can we beam out our people trapped on the Winceby?’

‘Negative,’ the computer replied. ‘Interference in the water is preventing a proper transporter lock from being established.’

‘Damn,’ Chen cursed to himself knowing that there was nothing that she could do to help the captain or the others. They were on their own.

 

‘Where are those engines?’ Lieutenant Reich asked from the barely-lit bridge of the old cargo ship.

‘Give me a minute,’ Jenson screeched over the comm from the engine room.

‘We haven’t got a minute,’ Reich yelled back as two Jumani warships appeared through the atmosphere and bore down on them, firing at the ship.

‘Almost there—’ Jenson said, still anxious.

‘To hell with it,’ Reich said. ‘Reich to Gonzales.’

‘Lieutenant? Are you alright?’

‘A little help, please, sir. With all the people I sent you, I’ve got one on the Resnik firing at the two warships that are using us as target practice and the other two on this barge. One is looking after the prisoners and the other one is in the engine room, trying to get this heap off the ground.’

‘I’ve just fixed the transporters and got the rest of the Winceby’s senior officers on board,’ Gonzales replied. ‘I’m pulling everyone out now.’

Many Jumani militiamen lay dead on the ground but thankfully none of her people had lost their lives. Captain Cavendish, having been checked out by the security medic had been pronounced relatively fit, apart from being malnourished. He embodied Starfleet in his manners, after being a slave for fifteen years and being a century out of his time, he was still helping to remove a threat to his crew.

‘What craft have you got?’ Cavendish asked from the co-pilot’s seat.

‘Available? This one and one more like it.’

‘Nice ships,’ Cavendish replied. ‘But no real match for the two warships.’

‘Very true. We have the Osiris, but communications are being jammed by the warships.’

‘Are you sure?’

Gonzales looked at him. ‘Yes, I’m sure.’

‘Is there anything we can do to get through the dampening field?’

‘I doubt it. They seem to have plenty of information about our capabilities.’

‘Then we’ll have to do the best we can,’ Cavendish replied and fired at the weapons ports on the approaching warships.

‘Gonzales to Resnik.’

‘Go ahead, sir,’ Lieutenant Namura answered the summons.

‘Fire at the weapons ports and engines of the warships only.’

‘Yes sir,’ Namura responded and loosed a volley of phaser blasts at the warships’ undersides.

‘Are all your people so trigger happy?’ Cavendish asked.

‘Only when they’re under attack,’ Gonzales answered as she did a strafing run at the nearest warship.

Cavendish was using the phasers and took out two weapon ports on the lead warship.

‘We need to give them engine trouble,’ Gonzales mused aloud.

‘Do another run,’ Cavendish advised. ‘I’ve seen a configuration like this before. Gorn ships use something similar. If you get me close enough I’ll give you a fireworks show you won’t forget.’

‘Are we trying to blow them up?’ she asked as one of the warships hit the shuttle with a well-placed blast.

‘Does that answer your question?’ Cavendish asked as Gonzales checked for new damage.

‘It does, let’s go. Gonzales to Namura, where are you?’

‘About forty metres above you,’ Namura answered.

‘Er, Lieutenant, how can we contact the Resnik but not the Osiris?’

‘I’m not sure. But I’m not knocking it, any communication is better than none.’

‘Hmm,’ the Winceby’s captain replied.

‘Namura, fire.’

‘Aye sir, Namura out.’

Namura closed the comlink and targeted the higher warship. She waited with baited breath to see whether the warship noticed her but it didn’t, it was concentrating  its fire on the prison ship and the McNair. She exhaled and fired the phasers. The warship’s engines exploded in a blaze of orange flame and then it took a downward spiral toward the surface. Namura turned the Resnik around and aimed at the other warship.

‘One warship down,’ Cavendish informed Gonzales while she tried to get closer to the Jumani warship.

‘Gonzales to Osiris.’

‘We’re still jammed,’ Cavendish stated when Gonzales got no response.

‘Namura, it must be the other warship that’s operating the dampening field.’

‘Aye, sir.’

‘It must be the Osiris then,’ Cavendish thought aloud.

‘Not necessarily, sir,’ Namura returned. ‘It could be random ionisation in the atmosphere. It used to happen on Earth until we got a communication satellite ring.’

Gonzales turned to Cavendish who just shrugged. ‘Give us some covering fire Namura.’

‘Aye sir.’

‘Let’s try this run one more time,’ Gonzales said to Cavendish.

The McNair manoeuvred toward the second warship.

‘Are you ready?’ Gonzales asked.

‘Sure am,’ Cavendish answered, his fingers poised above the trigger.

‘Then fire,’ she screeched.

The phasers rocked the warship more than they should have done, the latter’s shields were obviously damaged. Gonzales increased to full impulse to avoid the inevitable shockwave if the warship was destroyed.

One of the phaser blasts found a million-to-one invisible gap in the warship’s shields and exploded on impact with the exhaust manifold. It set off a chain reaction and breaches appeared on every deck of the warship as it lost attitude control and started descending toward the prison. The first warship, though it had lost the use of its engines, was operating on thrusters and somehow had its weapons online because it started firing at the two shuttles again.

 

‘Jenson, where are those bloody engines,’ Reich screeched.

‘Go,’ Jenson yelled over the comlink. ‘You’ve got thrusters and impulse.’

‘Finally,’ Reich said as he saw the warship bounce off the ground and come careening towards him at speeds that would certainly kill him and anyone on board as it crushed the cargo ship.

McNamara joined him on the bridge just as he fired the thrusters. The cargo ship, called the Rustbucket by the crew of the Winceby and adopted by the Osiris’ security team, trembled as the thrusters left behind dense smog as it lifted off the ground.

‘Hell, doesn’t this thing have inertial dampers?’ McNamara asked, holding on to one of the seats.

‘Apparently not,’ Reich answered as he piloted the vessel up.

He wasn’t bothered about a particular direction as the warship was approaching fast. No sooner had he got the cargo ship into the air than the warship ploughed into the ground where he had been seconds before. The warship’s engines were spewing flame and several explosions rocked it as the Rustbucket set a course for the shuttles, a hundred metres higher.

‘Gonzales to Reich.’

‘We’re in the air,’ Reich answered.

‘Good work, Lieutenant. I don’t suppose you’ve got weapons.’

‘Rustbucket’s weapons are offline,’ Reich replied, ‘and yes that is what we’ve decided to call it.’

Gonzales sighed. ‘I didn’t think so. Any chance of getting the weapons online?’

‘Unlikely, but I’ll see if Jenson can do something.’

 

At the bottom of the inland sea Captain Astor woke up and tried to clutch her head before realising that she had her environment suit on. She shook her head to try and clear the cobwebs and saw that Snowcroft was still in her, and trying to get the helm to respond again. Talen was awake and looking into the hooded viewer at the science station that now had power.

‘What have we got?’ Astor asked.

‘We’re on the seabed,’ Talen answered.

‘Astor to Xeris.’

After a full minute with no response she called again.

‘Astor to Xeris. Xeris, come in.’

No response.

‘Captain, I’ll go down there,’ Talen said to her relief.

‘Thank you Talen, we’ll stay up here and see if we can get this ship out of the water.’

‘Aye sir,’ Talen replied and the turbolift doors opened.

He climbed down into the shaft and then allowed himself to sink toward engineering, it was easier than trying to climb down. The doors to engineering had been forced open before so Talen could see Xeris lying on the floor by the warp core. He looked dead but Talen couldn’t tell for sure. He approached and heard moaning from the Romulan and breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t like Xeris but didn’t want the guy dead.

‘Xeris, are you okay?’

The Romulan engineer shook his head and tried to sit up. ‘I’m fine, just got a bump on the nose when I hit the deck.’

‘We’re on the seabed. Is there any way of getting the helm back up?’

Xeris glanced at the power control panel. ‘Everything’s operational. There must be a few blown relays from the slide. Help me repair them and we should be able to get out of here pretty quickly.’

‘Astor to Talen.’

‘He’s fine, sir. We’re going to repair the blown relays.’

‘Good work. Astor out.’

‘Sir,’ Snowcroft spoke.

‘What is it, Ensign?’

‘I think that the ventral thrusters are going to cause problems when we try and take off.’

‘Why?’

‘Because it was the ventral thrusters’ intermittent bursts that caused us to slide down the ridge,’ she answered.

Astor looked pensive. ‘We’ll have to deal with when we go, they might be more blocked than the others were because they’re been on the bottom.’

‘Aye sir,’ Snowcroft replied but didn’t look convinced.

She acknowledged that it was a possibility but nothing more. Ten minutes later Xeris and Talen had repaired the power relays.

‘I’ve got power,’ Snowcroft said.

‘Excellent. Okay, Ensign, let’s see if we can launch this bird.’

Snowcroft fired the ventral thrusters again, a full burn this time, and the ship shuddered again.

‘We’re moving,’ Talen yelled from engineering.

‘Not that much, the ventral thrusters aren’t working properly,’ Astor advised them as the ship started to descend again.

‘The thrusters aren’t powerful enough to counteract the effects of gravity as the ship is submerged,’ Xeris told them all. ‘We’ll need to use the impulse engines.’

‘I thought they were offline,’ Snowcroft said.

‘When we repaired the power relays we did the impulse relays too,’ Xeris replied, smirking at the snigger from Snowcroft.

‘Okay, Ensign, engage impulse engines, three percent thrust.’

The Winceby started rising toward the surface.

‘The hull breaches should drain the water before we reach the atmosphere,’ Talen said as the ship continued to rise through the murky depths of the inland sea, ‘if we manage to do it slowly.’

‘We’ll have to ascend really slowly. There are thousands of tons of water on board,’ Xeris advised.

‘Can we get out of the sea first?’ Astor asked as Snowcroft increased to four percent on the impulse engines. ‘Before we think of draining the water.’

‘Aye sir.’

The Winceby was close to the surface when the hull at the very front of the ship buckled from something striking the ship.

‘What the hell was that?’ Astor asked as she was thrown from the operations console.

From the Armstrong came a muffled screech. ‘It’s the Eradicator.’ But they couldn’t hear Chen as the weapons fire had ionised the water, making contact or transport now completely impossible.

Astor’s eyes widened as she realised who it was that was firing at them. Without shields the Winceby would be destroyed in seconds, and it would be just a few seconds before they breached the surface of the ship’s former grave.

‘Astor to Osiris, we’re under attack,’ she yelled, hoping that the message would get through but knowing that it probably wouldn’t.

The Eradicator fired again at the old starship and Chen watched helplessly as the energy pulse struck the forward hull again.

 

 

TO BE CONTINUED…