Anthology.

By Paul Starkey.

TEASER.

Vesta’s impulse engines flared bright red as she shot away from the dark grey planet behind her. Two bright orange lights followed in her wake, leaving arcing trails behind them that would have been considered beautiful, were they not so deadly. These lights moved faster than Vesta, eating up the distance to the Federation ship until they finally impacted against her aft shields in a firework display of colour.

“Shields at ninety percent.” Said Lieutenant Paul Lawson from tactical.

“Never mind that. Are they pursuing us?” Said Hernandez from the Captain’s seat, her eyes narrowed as she gripped the arms of her seat tightly.

“Yeah, all three of them.”

“Good.” Said Hernandez. “On screen.”

She watched as the view shifted, now there was the planet they had so recently orbited, gradually reducing in size the farther they got away from it. Between them and the planet were three ships, Prowler class Mutuality ships. Unlike the planet these ships were getting closer. As they fired again their silver hulls were momentarily lit orange.

“Evasive!” shouted Hernandez.

At the console in front of her Ensign Pamela Smallbone moved fast, sending Vesta first one way and then another. It proved fruitless as further hits struck their stern.

“Shields at sixty five percent.”

“Captain, we should go to warp.” Said Commander Ishikawa from her side.

Hernandez shifted in her seat uncomfortably. The planet was still in view, little more than the size of an orange now. “Not yet.” She whispered. “We have to make sure they’re going to follow us. Which ship appears the weakest?” she asked.

Ishikawa checked the screen by his side. “The port ship’s shields are fractionally weaker.” He looked up. “Not enough to make a difference.”

Hernandez nodded. “Ok, Mister Lawson, target that ship, fire four torpedoes aft.”

“We only have twenty four left.” Said Ishikawa. “Perhaps the phasers?”

She smiled at him. “Good point. Mister Lawson, fire phasers as well.”

Ishikawa sighed. “Do you ever listen to me?” he asked.

“I always listen.” She replied as Vesta slung four torpedoes back at their pursuers and followed them with three quick phaser bursts. Turning towards him she smiled. “Sometimes I even  take your comments on board.”

He feigned shock “Sometimes? I am honoured.” He replied.

“Direct hit, they’re shields are down to fifty percent.” Said Lawson. “They’re returning fire.”

“Evasive pattern Delta.” Said Hernandez.

At full impulse, Vesta pirouetted on her central axis before making a sharp turn to starboard and-from her perspective- shifting her nose downwards.

“They missed.” Said Lawson. “But they’re adjusting course to follow us.”

“Captain, if we don’t go to warp now they may get suspicious.” Said Ishikawa.

“I know, I know.” She replied. “Why’d you have to take all the fun out of it.”

He shrugged. “I always assumed it was the job of a First Officer to do that.”

Hernandez began punching commands into her own console and a diagram of the star system they were fleeing came up. “Well, I skipped First Officer duties so I wouldn’t know.” She said studying the various courses open to her.

“Well that’s what you get for being a moderately effective soldier in time of war.” Said Ishikawa. He kept his gaze focused on his console but flicked his gaze left just long enough to catch her glare. That was when he smiled.

“Well, at least once I got Command of a Starship I kept it.” She muttered.

Ishikawa looked up, doing his best to look hurt he replied. “That was below the belt.” Just as the ship shuddered again.

She winked at him. “Captain’s prerogative.” Turning back again she sat straighter in her seat. “Ok, playtimes over. Mister Lawson, target the centre ship, another spread of torpedoes and phasers again.”

“Aye Sir.” Said Lawson, Ishikawa stayed silent this time.

“Direct hit, they’re still coming.”

“Pam, set course two eight five mark zero three five and engage at warp two.”

Vesta jumped to warp just as the three ships fired once more, their energy rounds passing harmlessly though the space she had just occupied.

The three ships paused and conferred over subspace. They were unmanned but each was controlled by a sophisticated AI. A Multitronic computer that was the evolution of a machine Dr Richard Daystrom had created a century before. The computer controlling these ships was an M-7, rather than the failed M-5 he had created. Still the principle was the same. The M-7’s circuits were overlaid with human memory engrams, allowing them to operate much like a human brain and giving them the ability and experience to operate autonomously.

The conversation between the three ships took mere nanoseconds. They knew how important it was to capture or destroy Vesta, they also knew that it would take three ships to do it. As one they wheeled in space and leapt to warp in pursuit.

“They are following.” Said Ishikawa. “Predictable fellows.”

Hernandez smiled. “Now comes the hard part. Pam, increase speed to warp six and alter course to zero one four mark zero nine zero.”

“Aye Sir, we are now at warp six and on new course.”

“We will enter the nebula in two minutes.” Said Ishikawa.

Hernandez nodded. On the screen now was a dusty pink expanse, the huge nebula that was their destination.

As the seconds ticked past Ishikawa informed them that the three ships were closing.

Clenching her fists into tiny balls Hernandez ordered the their speed to warp seven point four. It was their absolute maximum speed. The ancient warp core that was jury rigged into their engine room would allow no more. Already the ship shuddered as it strained to maintain this speed.

“Captain, we can’t keep this up, we have to throttle back or she’ll tear herself apart.” Said Louise Ramplin, Vesta’s Chief Engineer over the com.

“Time to Nebula?” asked Hernandez.

“Thirty seconds.” Said Ishikawa.

“Ok, Pam, drop to impulse and take us in.”

Vesta dropped out of warp, the shuddering slowly subsiding. The nebula now filled the screen, glowing faintly. It wasn’t very big, as Nebula’s went, but it was large enough for Vesta’s purposes. As they slipped inside Hernandez felt like they were flying through a huge pink marshmallow.

“Cool.” Said Smallbone.

“Ok, Pam, one quarter impulse, random course. Lets not make it easy for them.” Said Hernandez.

Smallbone nodded. “Do you think they’ll follow us in?” she asked.

“I hope so,” said Hernandez. She glanced at Ishikawa noting the worried look on his face, “I hope so.” She repeated.

As Vesta moves deeper into the nebula in order to elude her pursuers let us head in a different direction, backtracking Vesta’s course to the small grey planet…

Calling it a planet was a slight misnomer. In truth this star system had only two true planets. Both of them Gas giants and each of them at least twice the size of Jupiter. Ten thousand years before the tiny grey speck, little larger than Pluto, had orbited the gas giant furthest from the Sun. Over the millennia however the stronger gravitational forces exerted by the second Gas giant had slowly begun to pull the moon out of it’s orbit and towards a new home. In ten thousand years the moon had yet to reach it’s new home, and in truth would not for a further twenty millennia. Like a man clinging to his love all the while being inexorably drawn to a more attractive mate.

The light from this systems meagre star barely illuminated the world. Not that there was much to illuminate. The surface was uniformly craggy grey rock, pitted with craters and covered in a fine layer of dust. The atmosphere was a thin mixture of Argon, Neon and hydrogen. It never rained but agitation in the upper atmosphere ensured that the planet was lit by near constant lightning flashes.

Despite it’s size, and despite the grim inhospitable nature of it’s surface, the planet did have one redeeming feature.

And that was why the Danube class Runabout, Gagarin, now sat on the planets surface, looking incongruous upon a low rocky plain thirty kilometres wide.

In the aft section of the Federation ship Lieutenant Lia K’Thell and Dr Bren Kail sat at a table playing cards. K’Thell was slight women, in her mid thirties by Human standards, her skin a luscious blue/green in colour. Her long white hair tumbled down the back of her uniform and her pretty eyes were currently narrowed in concentration as she stared at the three cards in her hand. She had three black stars, eight ruby stars and a silver Bat’Leth.

“Any time you’re ready.” Said her opponent. Bren Kail sat with an air of lazy confidence. He was Bajoran and he was the kind of man who would always look untidy, no matter how much effort he made. Being so tall and gangly didn’t help, and neither did his dark and untidy beard or his constantly mussed hair. His uniform was ill-fitting no matter how accurate the computer measurements of his body were and he had long ago given up hope of ever looking suave or sophisticated. He was grinning brightly, more than happy with the three cards in his hand.

K’Thell reached for the ruby eight but halted before she had pulled it even halfway out of her hand. On a sudden impulse she grabbed the Bat’Leth and threw it face up onto the table. Bren’s smile faded. Nobody threw away a Bat’Leth, not unless they had a really good hand.

K’Thell smiled now and reached for the deck that sat between them. Picking up the top card she kept it’s face hidden from Bren and took it into her hand. She kept her smile for a few seconds longer before throwing her hand, face up, on the table. “Crap.” She muttered.

Bren’s smile returned now. In addition to the two cards she already had was the third…a Ruby Bat’Leth. He gently placed his own hand down, spreading them out so they were clear to see. Two black circles, two ruby circles and two silver circles. He shook his head. “That was a gutsy gamble. Shame really, three twos could never beat a pair of Bat’Leths.”

K’Thell frowned at him. “I hate three card Klingon B’Tek.” She said.

Bren chuckled. “Yeah but what else are you gonna do? Enjoy the view?”

“Hmm.” Muttered K’Thell glancing out of the expansive windows. It was pitch black outside but ever few seconds a lightning flash lit up the surrounding area. Nothing but rocks as far as the eye could see. She shivered. “Don’t you find it spooky?” she asked. “It’s like being in one of those haunted houses in an old Earth Movie.”

He shook his head. “I don’t believe in ghosts.” He said.

“How many times do I have to tell you people. It’s Klaides, not ghosts!”

There was a sudden metallic thump from deep within the Runabout, coupled with another lightning flash. K’Thell jumped. And so did Bren.

“I thought you didn’t believe in Klaides.” She said softly.

“I don’t.” he replied just a little too stridently. Then he paused. “That’s probably just them.” He said nervously as there were more noises coming from the same direction.

“Of course.” Said K’Thell with a knowing shrug of her shoulders.

For the next two minutes they sat in silence, each of them unwilling to admit how nervous they were. Finally the sounds ended and there was silence, a silence broken by the hiss of the inner airlock door opening.

“It’s them.” Bren repeated as the sound of footsteps began.

K’Thell nodded keeping her eyes trained on the  doorway to the rest of the ship. Letting her right hand slip under the table she ran her palm over the almost imperceptible bump of her belly, where her daughter to be resided, before it came to rest on the butt of her phaser. Gently she unclipped it from her belt and held it ready under the table.

When Lieutenant Commander Devonshire and Lieutenant Sen Gerrex  walked into view however she let out a sigh of relief and lifted her hands, placing the phaser on the table. “Some people knock you know.” She said.

Vesta’s fifty year old Second Officer smiled. “Sorry.” He said.

Gerrex was less apologetic. “Come on, who else was it going to be on a deserted planet?”

“A deserted planet that’s strategically important to the Mutuality?” said Bren as he too placed the phaser he’d been holding on the table. “Oh, nobody.”

Gerrex sat down by K’Thell’s left and after a moment Devonshire took the remaining empty seat. Both of them looked tired, they were in uniform but their jackets were missing, neither of them had been bothered about replacing them once they’d got out of their environment suits. 

“Trust me, there’s nobody out there.” Said Devonshire. “And a bleaker place it’s never been my misfortune to see. And I say that as a man born on Earths moon.”

“Did it go ok?” asked Bren.

Gerrex nodded, he yawned loudly and then ran both hands through his thinning blonde hair before folding them on the table in front of him and resting his head there.

“Come on, it can’t have been that hard.” Said K’Thell.

“It shouldn’t have been.” Said Devonshire, “But we had to try seven different locations before we found a vein and even with the reduced gravity the laser drill’s damn heavy. Leothrite might exist in abundance here but it’s well hidden.”

“You did find some though?”

Devonshire nodded. Devonshire was a handsome man. Despite his obvious tiredness his dark hair was slicked back with utter precision and his pale blue eyes were as alert as ever. “We set the drill up about four hundred metres away. The vein is seven hundred metres down so it will take about three hours to reach. There’s not a lot we can do until then.”

“Three hours.” Said K’Thell. “Well that’s about what we figured. I just hope Vesta can keep the guard dogs busy that long.”

“Well, we’ll keep the runabout prepped for a quick lift off anyway, it would be a shame to go home empty handed though.” Said Devonshire.

K’Thell frowned “You know, despite what the Captain thinks Taka’ isn’t a miracle worker. Even if we get the Leothrite he still thinks it will take years to design and build a cloaking device from scratch.”

Devonshire looked at her. “She knows. But she also knows that given our situation a cloak would be too great a tactical advantage to ignore. Besides, Ishikawa’s a smart guy, when he says years I’m sure he means months.”

“Trust me, he isn’t exaggerating.” Said K’Thell. “And he hasn’t been much fun since the Captain gave him the project either. When I went to bed last night he was still up and reading some sort of report about the USS Pegasus.” K’Thell looked seriously at Devonshire now. “When I woke up this morning he was still sat on the sofa. He said he got a few hours sleep but I don’t believe him.”

Gerrex looked up. “Maybe he just didn’t fancy listening to you snore all night?” he said with a grin.

K’Thell regarded him with a hard stare. “Did you mistake me for Louise Ramplin or do you just have a death wish?”

Gerrex held his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Look,” said Devonshire, “everyone’s been under a lot of stress lately but believe it or not the news that Commander Ishikawa was working on a cloak actually raised morale a notch or two. It probably doesn’t even matter if he does it or not, just the fact that he’s trying means a lot.”

“You mean it’s a distraction?” said Bren. “Sort of like the band playing as the Titanic went down?”

Devonshire sighed. “I take you to the holodeck far to often.”

“Well even if it is just a big con the Leothrite is useful, right Doc?”

Bren nodded. “Yes, it will enable me to synthesise at least three vital drugs that presently cannot be replicated.”

“Just not Pylium though.” Said Gerrex solemnly.

Nobody responded. They all knew that in little over a month and a half Gerrex’s supply of Pylium would be gone and he would be left in a state of near permanent agony.

After a moments silence Gerrex smiled and tried to lighten the mood. “Hey, guys sorry to bum everyone out. Let’s change the subject. What are we going to do for three hours?”

“Play cards?” suggested Bren.

“Fat chance.” Said K’Thell.

“Well, I was planning to read.” Said Devonshire.

Gerrex groaned. “Come on, we can think of something more fun that that.”

“Such as?” asked K’Thell with a raised eyebrow.

Gerrex gestured to the windows. “Four people trapped in a house on a dark and stormy night.” He intoned trying to make his voice sound menacing. “Let’s sit around and tell stories.”

“That’s lame.” Said Devonshire.

“Oh, thank you Mister, ‘I was going to read a book’.” Said Gerrex. “Look we’ve all known each other for well over a year now, we’ve been to hell and back but in some ways we’re still strangers. There’s probably loads of stuff we don’t know about each other.”

“And perhaps we want to keep it like that?” said Devonshire.

“No, he’s right.” Said K’Thell. “I think we probably all have questions for each other. What better time to ask them.”

Everyone looked nervously at one another now. “Ok,” said Bren. “I’m in but we have to have some ground rules. One story each, I don’t think any of us want all our secrets exposing.”

“You have secrets?” said Gerrex with a sly win. “This will be even more fun then.”

“Ok, ok.” Said Devonshire. “ Who gets to ask the question?”

They pondered this for a moment. “The person on your left.” Said K’Thell. “And I think you should start.” And she pointed at Devonshire.

 “Me?”

“That makes sense.” Said Gerrex. “You’re the senior officer. Not to mention the eldest.” And he smiled.

“Yes, Devonshire then K’Thell, then Gerrex and me last.” Said Bren.

“Cunning.” Said Gerrex, “But I guarantee you won’t get out of this. We’ll get to you eventually.”

 Devonshire sighed. He looked at each of them in turn. “Ok then. Hit me. What do you want to know?” he asked K’Thell.

ACT 1

“Whoa, not so fast.” Said Gerrex and insisted that they all got drinks first. A minute later they each had a steaming mug of raktajino in front of them.

“That’s better.” Said Gerrex. “You may now begin.”

“Why thank you.” Said K’Thell. She looked at Devonshire. “Ok, how did you first meet your wife?”

“Boring.” Said Gerrex. “Years of Starfleet intelligence secrets and you ask that.”

“I want to know and it’s my question so shut up.”

Gerrex shrugged but still looked disappointed.

Devonshire smiled. “How I fist met Natalia?” he said. “Well it was on Earth, the year was 2352 and I was an Ensign, two years out of the academy. I was young but I was already working with Starfleet Intelligence. Anyway, it was a lovely spring day…”

Live To Die.

Ensign Devonshire stood on the observation platform gazing in awe at the view before him. She was the most beautiful creature he’d laid eyes on since arriving in Geneva two days ago.

She was short, not exactly skinny but with curves in all the right places. It were her legs he’d noticed first, despite her lack of height her legs seemed to go on forever, they were pale, slender flower stems that disappeared into a tight pair of cut off denim shorts. Upon seeing her he had moved closer, deciding that she’d probably look like the back end of a bus the nearer he got to her.

She didn’t. She wore a light white blouse that did little to conceal her curves. Her hair was long and a wonderful tint of blonde, Despite being tied back in a ponytail it still managed to look wild and untamed.

Devonshire had moved closer still, he had to see what she looked like. He knew he was moving out of position but he didn’t care. They weren’t infiltrating the compound today anyway so what was the harm. Besides he hadn’t so much as kissed a girl since leaving the academy…well, if you didn’t count the three Orion women he’d been held captive with, but Devonshire usually tried to forget that incident.

Stepping onto the platform he had seen her face for the first time and his heart had been lost. She was prettier than he could have imagined. Bright blue eyes, a pert upturned nose and the brightest smile he’d ever seen.

He wanted to go and talk to her but the friend she was with, a lithe dark skinned women several years her senior, put him off. Being blown out was one thing, being blown out while a girls best friend was watching was a step too far.

Then, a miracle, her friend pointed off in the direction of the nearby café and, after a brief conversation, she left, obviously off to get drinks or ice creams.

Devonshire’s heart was beating fast now, his lips were dry and he was sure that if he spoke to her nothing but a strangled croak would come out. But he also knew that if he was going to make a move he had to do it now, before her friend came back.

She was less than five metres away from him and he strolled the distance in seconds, trying to look nonchalant but sure he was failing. Taking up a position by her side he contemplated several opening lines before going for the most boring, but least likely to get him slapped. “Nice view.” He said.

And it was. They were a thousand metres up atop Le Telepheriqe, a mountain that overlooked Geneva from just inside the French border. The city that sat by Lake Leman  had changed little in the past few centuries. There were some new buildings, even a pair of glass towers that soared into the sky, and yet still the cities most prominent landmark was still the single jet of water, pumped out of the lake and high into the air. From here the buildings looked small but the fountain towered over them. The day before Devonshire had sat sipping a cool glass of orange juice in it’s shadow, basking in the warm sun as he read a newspaper and believing himself to be the coolest man alive. Now, as he waited for her to respond, he felt like the clumsiest, stupidest and most unattractive man in the world.

“Yes, it is.” She finally replied, turning to look at him. She was smiling, a girlish smile that was nevertheless guarded. She was pretty enough that this kind of thing was probably a regular occurrence. “Have you been up here before?” she asked and only now did he notice the accent, Russian he suspected, very mysterious, very sexy.

“No.” The lie came easy to him. In truth they had been here the previous evening. reconnaissance.

“Ah.” She nodded. She turned back to her view, but not before giving him a quick up and down glance that was enough to convince him it was probably worthwhile staying put. He hoped his clothing was ok. His jeans were worn, as was his faded blue shirt and he hoped she hadn’t mistaken him for a bum. But what to say next?

“Devonshire,” he said sticking out a hand so that it was visible in the periphery of her vision. She turned and smiled again, it was an embarrassed  smile but she did at least take his hand. “Willard, Patrick Devonshire.” He completed.

Her hand was soft, warm. “Quite a mouthful you have there.” She said with a mischievous grin.

“My parents were quite traditional.” He said.

“Ah, mine also.” She said and, to his regret, took back her hand.

He waited a full ten seconds for her to speak but she merely smiled at him. “Well,” he said finally. “I suddenly feel at quite a disadvantage.”

Still she merely smiled. “Ok, do I have to beg simply to be allowed to know your name?” he finally asked.

She chuckled. “Oh no. Not to know my name at least.” She added wickedly and suddenly he realised she was a good three years older than him, wiser when it came to the opposite sex and quite assuredly playing with him. She held her hand out for him to take this time. “Natalia Anastasia Leggovavitch.” She said.

He swallowed hard as he took her hand. “Legg-ova-vitch?” He said as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.

As he released her hand she shook her head. “Why is it only the English who see double entendres everywhere?” she asked. But she was still smiling.

“Sorry.” He apologised. “It’s the saucy post card humour, we never seem to lose it, no matter how many generations we go through. But I’m not English, not really. I was born at New Berlin.”

“Ah, a loony.” She joked.

“I asked for that.” He shrugged. “So, do you live in Geneva?”

She shook her head. “No, just on a brief holiday. I’m from Minsk.”

“I thought you were Russian.”

“Is it that obvious?” she asked, thickening her accent as she did so.

He laughed and she did too. Her laughter was as beautiful as her smile. “So, what do you do when you’re not on holiday?” he asked, his eyes quickly flickering in the direction of the café. No sign of her friend yet.

She noticed and cast a glance over her shoulder. “Afraid Judith will come back and spoil your chat up technique?”

He coughed. “No, not at all.” He said, but this time his worst fear was realised, his voice broke apart.

She merely laughed. “You’re sweet.” She said. “And in answer to your question I’m a teacher. At least I’m planning to be one. I’ve been travelling the last few years.”

“Wow, you must have been to some fantastic places.” His voice was back to normal now, thank God.

She nodded. “I have. I’ve seen pretty much every corner of this planet. This is my third trip to Geneva. We head back home tomorrow and then it’s off to university for me.”

He was taken aback. “You’ve never been off world?” he asked.

Her eyes narrowed and she grinned. “Starfleet.” She nodded. “I should have guessed. Nice manners, neat hair, obsession with other worlds. You might as well have eager young ensign tattooed on your forehead.”

“Is it that obvious?” he asked nonchalantly although in truth he was worried. If it were that obvious to her who else had noticed.

“Yes it is.” She replied. “So, when do you report back to your ship?” she asked and seemed saddened by the thought that he most likely wasn’t going to be around much longer.

The lie slipped easily off his tongue. As with all the best lies it had a large portion of truth in it. “Not for a while. I’m seconded to the Academy for the next three months. After that I’m headed for Starbase sixty.” It was all true…except for the part about the Academy, he was actually seconded to Starfleet Intelligence.

The same mischievous grin danced at her lips once more. “Good.” She said simply.

And then twin portents of doom rained on Devonshire’s parade. In the distance he saw Naltalia’s friend, Judith, heading back their way. At the exact same moment his trousers started to beep.

“Is that a communicator in your pocket. Or are you merely pleased to see me?” she winked.

He smiled an embarrassed smile and dug his communicator out of his  pocket. “I should really take this.” He said. “It’s probably my ship, I’m supposed to have moved all my stuff down to the Academy but I’ve been a bit lax.” Her raised eyebrow said she didn’t believe him but he ignored her and flipped his communicator open. “Devonshire here.”

“Devonshire!” barked a rough voice from the other end. “It’s Hunter, sorry to intrude on your love life but if you wouldn’t mind joining us again it would be appreciated.”

“I’ll be right there, Sir.” He said. “Devonshire out.” He added and quickly flipped his communicator shut.

“How do they know you were talking to me?” she enquired.

Devonshire glanced away. Judith was closing fast. He turned back. “Cameras.” he said gesturing upwards. “They have such powerful cameras” he smiled sheepishly. “I’d really better go grab the cable care back down. There should be a shuttle leaving Geneva spaceport soon.” And he slowly started backing away toward the cable car station.

“Can’t they beam you up?” she asked.

“No…oh no.” he stuttered. “Because the transporters are out of action at the moment.” He smiled again. “That ships falling apart.”

“But the cameras work just fine?”

She smiled and pointed at her. “That’s right.” He said. “About the only thing that does.” He stopped taking a last look at her, knowing he’d never see her smile again. “I’d really better go.” He said sadly and turned to walk away.

“Nice meeting you.” She shouted after him, her own voice tinged with regret.

He took one step, then in a flash he turned and jogged over to her. Throwing caution, and a lot more, to the wind he grabbed her and kissed her hard. Though surprised she kissed him back. As they broke apart he brushed a stray strand of blonde hair out of her eyes. “Listen, there’s a great Andorian/French restaurant by the fountain, Chez Le Shev. I’ll meet you there at seven, tonight.”

She didn’t respond, still reeling from his kiss.

Devonshire didn’t, couldn’t, wait. Turning he saw Judith, staring at him with a bemused smile on her face. “Hi, I’m Devonshire.” He said and grabbed her hands, shaking it vigorously. “Pleased to meet you.” He added.

And then he was gone, running of towards the cable car station as if his life depended on it.

“Who the hell was that?” said Judith.

Natalia  shook her head. “Devonshire.” She whispered. “Willard Patrick Devonshire.” And gently she touched at her lips.

He found the others on the far side of the station. There were four of them. Major Hunter of Starfleet intelligence was a short and skinny man in his early forties, his dark head shaved smooth. Despite his physique he had the mouth of a drill instructor. Beside him were the twins, Halina and Erek Stefanski. Hailing from Poland there was little to choose between them  despite their differing genders. Both had the same tall and slender figure, the same full-blooded lips and dark green eyes. The only noticeable difference was Erek’s close cropped black hair. His sister  wore hers long, plaited tightly into twin pony tails that hung past her shoulders. They were both Lieutenants and both trusted members of Hunter’s team. The last member was, like Devonshire, a new addition. Lieutenant(j.g) Horox was a Bolian. He was tall, his shoulders broad and his physique well toned. His blue skin was starting to tan in the hot sun. Like Devonshire they were all dressed in civilian clothes and carried a small knapsack over their shoulder.

“Why thank you for joining us.” Said Hunter.

“Sorry.” Said Devonshire. “I was just trying to blend in.”

“Ha.” Said Halina. “I think you were trying to do more than that.” Although not unattractive her accent was somewhat more guttural than Natalia’s.

Hunter shot her a look that shut her up. She pouted in reply.

“Ok, no time for fooling around. Devonshire, we’re going in. Now.”

“Now? I though we weren’t scheduled to break in until tomorrow?”

“We weren’t.” said Hunter. “But we got word that Greef  is leaving on a Pygorian transport this evening. So we need to move in now.” Hunter un-slung his bag and began to climb the gentle hill that led higher up the mountain. “Lets move.”

As they followed into the sparse undergrowth each member of the team un-slung their own bags and opened them. In each one was a phaser.

It wouldn’t be Devonshire’s first action but even though he knew it was a relatively simple mission he was still nervous. Colonel Greef was the Klingon legal attaché to Earth. He was also, Starfleet Intelligence believed, a hired assassin responsible for the deaths of over twenty Federation citizens in the last twelve years.   

The Klingon Empire had refused all efforts to extradite him and he continued to split his time between Qo’noS and Earth with impunity. That was until three days ago when the Federation President gave Admiral Boothroyd of Starfleet Intelligence permission to arrest Greef. The death of a Cardassian diplomat in Paris couldn’t conclusively be linked to Greef but as the Klingon was in the city at the time it seemed a fair bet.

“There.” Said Horox as they approached the chain link fence that surrounded Greef’s mountain retreat.

Spotting a security camera towering high on the security post Devonshire ducked.

“Ensign, I have done this sort of thing before.” Said Hunter disparagingly. “I activated the blind spot before we came up here.”

“Oh.” Said Devonshire. The blind spot in the security net was accomplished courtesy of several high powered jamming devices they had planted the previous evening during a brief power outage. 

Erek was at the fence now, using  laser cutter to slice through the mesh. After he completed a circle he shoved the mesh hard and a man sized opening appeared.

Halina was through first, then her brother with Horox close on his heels. Hunter waved Devonshire though and bought up the rear. Now they couched down together. “Ok.” Said Hunter. “You all know your jobs. Horox, you and Devonshire locate the generator and take it out. That will drop the transport inhibitor. Me, Erek and Halina will grab Greef and signal the Amazon to beam us all out. Nice and simple. Whatever you do nobody go making it complicated.”

“Aye, Sir.” They all replied as one.

“Ok then, earpieces in and lets move.” Said Hunter. 

And without another word the two groups split up.

The wireless earpieces slotted into his ear would allow Devonshire to communicate with any member of the team but for the moment silence was of the essence. Horox led the way as they crept towards the edge of the undergrowth. As they reached it Horox held up a hand and Devonshire stopped.

Looking out they could see several buildings. The main house, a three level Nordic style chalet. To it’s left was a long single story buildings, the garage where Greef kept a collection of 20^th and 21^st century motor cars. By the side of the garage was a small outhouse, this was where the generator lived.

“Target in sight.” Whispered Horox into his throat mike. “Awaiting go signal.”

A sudden burst of laughter followed by the sound of splashing water drew their eyes towards a large swimming pool on the far side of the main house. Each of them slipped a tiny telescope out and focused on the area.

There were four figures in or around the pool. Lying by the pool on a sun lounger was Greef. The Klingon was middle aged but a strict exercise regimen mean that he had the body of a teenager. His nose was large and hooked, his skin a deep brown. His long black hair was spread out haphazardly on the lounger behind him as if he hadn’t a care in the world. He was wearing a pair of Speedos and a garish Hawaiian  shirt that was unbuttoned revealing a tightly muscled chest. Crouched by his side was a slim Andorian girl, her pale blue bikini almost invisible against her skin. She was rubbing suntan lotion onto Greef’s chest.

The last two were in the pool. Both were attractive young women, one a buxom Klingon the other a blonde human. They were giggling and throwing water at each other whilst Greef watched with a amused smile on his face.

“Likes his home comforts, doesn’t he?” came the voice of Erek over the com.

“He should enjoy them while he can.” Remarked his sister. “Where he’s going they’ll only let one girl at a time visit him.”

“Ok, quiet down.” Said Hunter. “Horox, Devonshire. We’ll give you thirty seconds then we’ll move.”

“Roger.” Said Horox before turning to Devonshire. “Ok, Ensign, just stay alert and follow the plan. No improvising.” He said wagging a stern finger at him.

Devonshire gave a wide eyed, ‘Me?’ look and Horox nodded. “Yes you. Now lets go.” And with that they crept out of the brush and moved silently but at some speed across the open ground and towards the outhouse.

The butt of the phaser in Devonshire’s hand was slick with sweat and as they moved in a semi crouch to mask their profiles he kept gazing right, making sure no one in the pool was looking their way. Luckily Greef and his little Harem seemed to be having far too much fun to notice. I’m in the wrong business. Thought Devonshire.

And then they reached the outhouse, both of them flattening their bodies against its mock wood wall with the single door between them, it looked sturdy and had an electronic keypad locking mechanism. “So far, so good.” Said Horox. He slid his hand into his knapsack and came out with a curiously shaped box that looked like a figure eight. Fitting it over the keypad he pressed a single button on it’s surface and they heard tiny clicks as it ran at high speed though every possible combination.

And then the clicks stopped and the door popped open. “Bingo.” Said Devonshire.

And that was when the alarm sounded.

It was a loud wail and Devonshire jerked his head to see that the two girls in the pool had disappeared. Meanwhile Greef was running towards the house, the Andorian girl following behind, her progress impeded by the heels she wore. He shifted his gaze and saw Hunter and the Twins rush out, weapons at the ready, and head after Greef.

They got half way from the undergrowth to the pool when Greef’s other two girls erupted out of the water, Klingon Disputer rifles in hand, and began to lay down fire.

“Look out.” Said Horox and pulled Devonshire with him around the side of the outhouse.  Devonshire’s life had almost ended by his lack of concentration as two half dressed Klingons piled out of the main house and down the stairs, firing as they went. Their disrupter fire impacted where Devonshire had stood just a moment before.

“Thanks.” He said.

Horox ignored him. “We’re under fire, no way to shut down the generator.”

“Understood.” Said Hunter. “We’re pinned down. Abort and pull out. I say again, abort and pull out.”

“We can’t.” said Devonshire. “”We have a mission.”

“The mission is scrubbed.” Said Hunter. “Resistance is too high. Make your way back to rendezvous point zero. I say again, rendezvous point zero.” 

“Ok,” said Horox. “I’ll cover you to the brush, then you return the favour.”

Devonshire didn’t get a chance to reply. With a sudden roar the side of the garage exploded as a bright red Enzo Ferrari shattered the wafer thin walls before screeching into a turn and heading for the main gates. Both men saw barely a glimpse of the driver, but it was enough.

“Greef.” Said Horox.

“He’ll drive right out from under the inhibitor field.” Said Devonshire. “We’ve got him!”

Horox shook his head. “Not so fast, Kid. Remember the briefing, Greef’s vehicles are always shielded.” He shook his head. “He’ll leave the car once he reaches the ship. We’ve lost him. Unless we want an interstellar incident with the Pygorian Government of course.”

Devonshire watched the sports car roar away wistfully. “We could always stop him before he reaches the spaceport.” He mused.

“What?” said Horox who was firing around the corner trying to pin down the Klingons.

“Don’t wait for me.” Said Devonshire and suddenly set off towards the garage.

“Devonshire! Get your ass back here!” yelled Horox.

Devonshire ignored him, bounding into full view of the Klingons only adrenaline and fear kept him moving fast enough to avoid their fire as the ground exploded around him. In an instant he was safely through the massive hole left by Greef’s Ferrari. “Wow!” he muttered as he stepped inside. The lighting was low but still the gleaming array of rare cars was impressive. He saw another Ferrari, a Testerossa this time, several Porches, a triumph spitfire, three Mini’s (painted red white and blue.) and a host of other classic vehicles.

From the moment his eyes swept across the line-up however there was only one he was going to choose. Jogging over to it he gave only a passing glance to the holographic information that hung seamlessly in the air above it’s bonnet.

‘Aston Martin V8 Vantage, Earth circa 1977.’ 

Devonshire knew this was the one. British racing green in colour the long nosed vehicle had been the first British super car. Trying the door handle he was delighted to find it opened and in seconds he was inside.

The interior had been heavily modified since this car’s birth almost 400 years before. The leather seats moulded to fit Devonshire’s frame and the dashboard lit up as the car detected someone in the drivers seat. For a moment Devonshire was happy just to sit there, his hands caressing the wheel. Then he remembered he had a job to do and he hit the starter. As the engine roared into life he heard Hunter over the com.

“Devonshire, I said abort. What the hell are you doing?

“Finishing the mission.” He said and then slipped the car into first and drove through the gap.

By the time he passed through the gates he was doing sixty, as he hit the road Greef had taken this had risen to a hundred and he could barely notice the sound in his ears. “Devsonhireeeeeeeee!!!!!!!”

It wasn’t the first time that Devonshire had driven an ancient automobile, however the road wound down the mountain side with such alarming sharpness that Devonshire had to rely heavily on the car’s inbound computer to keep him from spinning off down the mountainside.

He was doing a hundred and fifty miles per hour now. He knew that the Enzo Greef drove could move faster but he was counting on surprise, it was likely that Greef would not expect such an unorthodox pursuit.

He took another sharp corner, with only a slight trepidation that there would be a large truck coming the other way. If there were then he would know little about it. The road was clear however, nothing but another bend up ahead. He took this bend, dropping a gear and slowing down before ratcheting back up again and slamming his foot sown hard on the accelerator. The road was empty ahead, save for the next turn.

A sudden buzz at the back of his mind made his eyes suddenly flicker to the rear-view display on the dashboard. It seemed Greef had been expecting an unortadox pursuit after all. As he screeched around the next bend he lost sight of them but a moment later they hove back into view. There were two of them, Klingons, on high powered motorcycles. With little or no regard for their own safety they revved their machines past the redline and were closing fast. Sudden flashes issued forth from the headlights and twin disrupter blasts bracketed the car, causing it to shudder.

Devonshire took the next bend, losing them for a moment. He quickly scanned the computer interface on the dashboard. He found every convenience known to man-or in this case Klingon- including what he wanted…Greef had outfitted the car with weapons.

“Excellent.” He said and activated them. On the computer screen the rear view was gone, replaced by a wire frame diagram of the car. Twin green bars were highlighted in the front wings and identified as disrupter cannons. The only problem was that they only fired forwards.

The car shook once more as the Klingons fired again. Devonshire didn’t even drop a gear as he took the next bend. On the other side he was dismayed to find a long stretch of road leading off into the distance. At the edge of his vision he could swear he saw a flash of red. Greef.

Two more disrupter bursts followed. The first missed the car by several yards but the second shattered the back window, showering Devonshire in sharp and tiny daggers of glass that cut the back of his head and neck.

Wincing he activated the disrupters. Then he flipped another control. Suddenly the view on the screen changed to forward and a set of crosshairs superimposed themselves over the picture. A moment later the front windscreen misted over and the views chanced as the feed from the rear mounted cameras.

“Time to turn the tables.” Said Devonshire. And then he slammed on the handbrake, fishtailing the Aston Martin into a spin that ended with the car facing backwards. Slipping into reverse he accelerated and, after a moments pause, the car was now driving backwards at high speed.

Detecting the change of direction and the fact that the rear of the car was now, in essence, the front the onboard computer automatically adjusted the steering controls so that Devonshire could still control the car as if it were going forward.

Seeing another bend come up Devonshire spun the car, backwards still, around it and slowed. As the twin bikes sped around the bend after him Devonshire kept one eye on the targeting screen. Jerking the steering wheel to his left he aligned the crosshairs between the two bikes, knowing he might only get one shot at this. They fired once more, and missed, then Devonshire returned the favour.

The twin streaks of green energy pummelled a patch of road between the two bikes an instant before they passed. The explosion of debris was more than enough to pepper each bike and rider with hundreds of tiny concrete bullets. The bikes exploded, their riders hurled into the air like crazed marionettes before falling heavily to the ground, their souls already en route to Stov’o’kor.    

Devonshire spun the car once more and gunned the car onwards. He was nearing the bottom of the mountain now and the road led off, almost, straight towards Geneva. There were various hover vehicles on the road and, in the distance, a flash of red.

The traffic worked to Devonshire’s advantage. The nearer they got to the city the thicker it was and the slower Greef got. Devonshire was forced to slow down too but with some judicious driving he narrowed the gap. Now as they entered Geneva proper he was only a few car lengths away from the Klingon, and Greef knew it. He had obviously seen one of his own cars in the rear-view mirror and now he was trying to shake Devonshire off. He took a right down a quiet side street lined with ancient buildings before taking a sharp left. Devonshire stuck to him like glue and was rewarded when he saw that Greef was headed towards the lake.

Devonshire smiled. Greef would have to turn left in order to reach the spaceport and the road that looped around the lake had no turnoffs for the Klingon to try and lose him in and plenty of traffic to ensure Greef couldn’t use his greater speed to escape.

Greef was still powering forward though, ignoring the road he aimed the car for the lake. He’s insane, thought Devonshire as the Ferrari ploughed through the tables and chairs of a lakeside café, scattering furniture over the hapless diners who had just managed to get out of the way in time. Smashing through the guardrail on the waterfront Greef’s car plummeted towards the lake. At the last second it levelled out and began to race off, hovering a hairs breadth above the water, twin plumes of flame thrusting it forwards.

Devonshire held his own course, preparing to follow Greef onto the lake. His hands were shaking but he tore his eyes away from the view to check the dash based computer. He spotted a button marked turbo boost and, right next to it, another called anti-grav.

The mass of diners had just started to dust themselves off when Devonshire ploughed through the remains of the café, scattering them once more. With a cry of rage assuaging his fear he flipped on the turbo, then the anti-grav. Thrust back in his seat he could barely hold onto the wheel as the car smashed through the safety rail and plummeted towards the water. Squeezing his eyes shut he hauled back on the steering wheel, which was now automatically configured for movement in three dimensions over two.

There was no violent impact, no explosion or flood of water and when he opened his eyes Devonshire found the car was horizontal once more and whipping along above the waves like a demented hovercraft. Despite the spay of water battering the windshield Devonshire could still see Greef’s car, as if skating on ice, ahead of him and see Greef’s destination. The spaceport rose up from the park on the opposite side of the lake, gleaming spires of silver, one of which was rocketing towards the sky on a bed of antigravity engines. The spaceport was close and getting closer all the time and Devonshire didn’t know if he could catch Greef, their thrusters seemed evenly matched and the Klingon had a head start.

Then twin bursts of disrupter fire lanced out from the rear of the Enzo, glancing off the roof of the Aston Martin, and Devonshire remembered his own disrupters. Flicking them on once more he targeted Greef. Starfleet Intelligence wanted him alive but more than that they wanted him. Devonshire aimed carefully, just to the side of the Ferrari, and fired. The twin green beams burned into the water, churning the waves and swamping the Enzo in a miniature tsunami.

“And they say worse things happen at sea.” Said Devonshire as the Enzo flipped over onto it’s back.

Reaching down he shut the thrusters off….or at least tried too. He toggled the switch again…and again. The engines were full on and he couldn’t shut them off. Looking ahead he saw the crashed Ferrari, semi floating in the water like a waiting iceberg. Warning lights were flashing and an error message flashed up on the computer screen. Devonshire tried to swerve but the steering wheel simple spun uselessly in his hands.

He was an instant away from hitting the other car now and frantically he tried to find something, anything, on the dashboard that would be of help. There was nothing. He looked up. “Shit.” He said softly.

And then the computer screen lit up and text rolled across it. ‘Imminent collision. Ejection system activated.’

With a scream of shock mixed with hope Devonshire suddenly found himself catapulted upwards after the roof jettisoned. A moment later he hit the water, as the two cars exploded into each other.

Natalia Anastasia Leggovavitch sighed and took another sip of her vodka and tonic. She was sat alone at a lakeside table at Chez Le Shev. It was seven fifteen and there was still no sign of Willard Patrick Devonshire. She’d already decided that the next time the waiter, an Andorian with a bemusing French accent, came to ask if she wanted to order, she was going to leave. Judith had been right, never trust a Starfleet Officer.

She absently looked down, flicking for the hundredth time through the menu. When she sensed someone standing by the table she assumed it was the waiter and looked up ready to say she was leaving. It was him.

He was dressed in what looked very much like hospital whites, his hair a mess and his face covered in several deep scratches. More shocking was his right arm, held securely in a sling. “Sorry I’m late.” He said with a smile. “You won’t believe how much trouble I had getting out of the hospital!” he added as he sat down.

“Oh my God, what happened to you?”

“My own fault.” He said, “I was so exited at meeting you that I tripped by the cable car station and fell down the embankment. Luckily the cable car station broke my fall.” And he hefted his sling.

“Are you sure you should be out and about?” she asked.

He nodded furiously. “Probably not.” he said. “But there was no way I was standing up the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met. You don’t get away that easily.” He said and was rewarded with a smile that lit up her whole face. “Now then, I hear the mushrooms are superb…”

ACT 2.

“Aw, that’s so romantic.” Said K’Thell.

Devonshire smiled. “We were married six months later. I didn’t tell her what had really happened until a few years after that.”

“What happened to Greef?” asked Bren, “And what about Hunter, did you get in hot water?”

“Greef survived the crash, he served about ten years in a Federation stockade before being exchanged with the Klingons for a Federation intelligence operative. I never heard a word about him after that. As for Major Hunter, well although secretly quite happy with the result he officially had to get me off his team. The irony was that I really did end up seconded to the Academy. Of course Hunter had seen enough to know he wanted me on his team again…he just had to wait a few years.”

Gerrex snorted. “And we’re really supposed to believe that?” he asked.

Devonshire regarded him sagely. “I’m not Walter Mitty, Sen, but believe what you like. Greef is on record and if you hunt back far enough you’ll find reference to a mysterious ‘boating’ accident that took place on Lake Leman on that day.”

Gerrex shuffled uncomfortable in his seat. “Oh, ok.” He said. “So, my turn to ask away, huh?” he asked letting a spark back into his voice as he conveniently changed the subject. “What shall I ask you?” he asked lasciviously whilst pointing at K’Thell.

She pointed back. “Nothing dodgy!” she remarked.

He snorted. “Ah, no fun.” Before leaning back in his seat. “Ok then, a serious question…” he paused.

“Take your time Sen, means it’s less likely I’ll get a go.” Joked Bren.

“Well we wouldn’t want that.” Said Gerrex. “So I’ll go with the old stager people always ask Academy Graduates. Lia, tell us about your experience on the Kobyashi Maru test?”

K’Thell frowned. “Actually I can’t.” she said.

“Hey, we all agreed to answer one question.” Said Gerrex.

“That’s true, what was it boring or something?” asked Bren.

“Or something.” Said K’Thell. Her frown deepened and she sighed. “Ok, if you must know I never took the test.”

“Really?” said Devonshire. “I thought it was mandatory?”

K’Thell squired nervously in her seat. “Well, it is...usually, but I managed to get a deferment on it because I experienced something similar before I joined the Academy, ok.” Her voice rose a touch as she spoke.

“Well, ok, then tell us about that?” said Gerrex.

“Sen, it’s obviously quite personal, ask her something else.” Said Devonshire.

“No!” she said, suddenly. “I’ll tell the story. Ho’k knows what he’ll ask otherwise…” She took a sip of coffee. “As I said, it was before I entered the Academy…”

The Suul Vek Scenario.

It was the fourth cycle after the fiftieth melange of T’Kreek…or in simpler terms it was 2370, stardate 47848.2 to be more precise. It was four years since the Federation made First Contact with the Yullen people, a little longer since we made our first warp flight, and I was Captain of the Yullen freighter, Arias. The Arias was a production model copy of our first warp ship, the Kwell L’Thon, but there were differences. For a start the crew complement was reduced from eight to two, giving us a reasonable sized cargo bay. The performance was better too. The Arias could make warp two point five, pitiful compared to Federation ships but pretty damn good for a people who developed warp drive only a few years before.

I’d been in command of her for three months, ever since I returned from giving birth. Liella went to stay with my parents, as tradition demanded, and since her Father, Kee, decided to try his luck signing on a Ferengi freighter I had no real ties.

We were on a regular shuttle run, between Yull and our nearest neighbour, Planthia. It was a forty-day round trip and we were thirty-four days out. We’d traded our cargo of Felderite for several dozen bolts of Planthian silk, a very good deal, and we were headed back home. You all saw the cockpit of the Kwell L’Thon so I don’t need to tell you it was cramped. Two flight seats and you had to climb over the central console to get to your seat.

Still it was my favourite place on the ship. On this particular morning I was sat scrunched up in the pilots seat. For once I wasn’t looking at the view I was rereading one of the Starfleet Academy guides for potential applicants, another five were piled up on the console beside me. It must have been about the fiftieth time I’d read it since we’d set out from Yull. Our application for Federation membership had been approved just days before we left port and the moment it was I knew that I wanted to be in Starfleet.

Flying was my life and a few short years before the idea of piloting a freighter to another Star system would have been the most exciting thing in the world. That was before we knew the Federation existed, let alone other life forms. To be honest Yullen philosophy had decided we were probably, or at least virtually, alone in the Universe. When the Enterprise dropped into orbit and Captain Picard addressed the council of elders…well, it was something of a shock, albeit a pleasant one.

Anyway, long story short, once I knew there were thousands of planets out there then flying to a measly one or two would never be enough for me.

“You must know those off by heart by now.” Came a voice from behind me.

I looked over my shoulder, despite recognising her voice and despite knowing there were only two of on board. I don’t know why I was being paranoid, it was just being cooped up with her for the last few weeks, especially during the last few days because she’d been acting odd.

Her name was Nyssa  P’Mir, my co-pilot.

“Well?”

“I don’t know them off by heart.” I replied. “I just want to make sure my application’s flawless, that’s all.”

She clambered over the central console and into her seat. She was petite, even for a Yullen, and her jumpsuit hung off her frame in places despite being the smallest manufactured size. Maybe that was one of the reasons I disliked her. Since giving birth I still felt frumpy and having a younger, skinnier, girl around wasn’t helping matters.

“Still think you can be the first Yullen in Starfleet?” she had big pale eyes and short elfin white hair. Her smile was friendly enough but somehow it never seemed to reach her eyes. She, like most of the others in the Yullen Space Force, was one of the new breed. Four years since we achieved the impossible and already I was being made to feel like a dinosaur.

“I can try.”

She pursed her lips staring at me, that insufferable smile on her lips. “I hear Dab J’Thett and Ennis K’Jen are both applying too…You’ve got stiff competition.”

“There’s nothing to say we can’t all get in.”

She shook her head. “Come on, we’re a race of morons compared to the other species out there. If anyone gets in it’ll be out of pity.”

“We’ve come a long way in a few years.” I countered, not really relishing an argument.

“Maybe, but did you see the size of that Starship orbiting Planthia? What was it’s name?” she asked looking out into pace.

“The Bozeman. “I didn’t add that the Soyuz class vessel was quite small by Federation standards.

“You were getting quite friendly with her Captain at the Oompuh bar on the last night.” The smile became more lascivious now, still not touching her eyes.

“Captain Bateman? He’s old enough to be my Father. Actually correct that, technically speaking he’s old enough to be my great grandfather.”

“Huh?” her nose scrunched up in confusion and I enjoyed the minor victory.

“That’s what we were talking about. Seems he and his ship were caught in some temporal anomaly ninety years ago. He was regaling me with stories of Starfleet of old, some Captain named Kirk who made quite an impression on him. We were talking family too, he still misses his brother, Niles, even though he died decades ago.”

“Bummer.” She replied.

“Quite.” I said before deciding that it might be wise to change the subject. “You should still be asleep.”

She shrugged. “I feel like I’ve slept enough for two lifetimes worth on this trip.”

I knew what she meant. Forget the wonder of space travel, a cargo run could be incredibly boring, especially in a cramped vessel like the Arias and even I’d been sleeping more than usual.

“Want me to take over?”

I shook my head. “No, I think I’ll stay up here a bit more. My cabins been feeling more claustrophobic than usual the last few days.”

“Mind if I stay with you?”

Only if you shut up, was what I thought. “Sure, why not.” Was what I said.

And that was when the communications relay flashed. “That’s odd.” Said Nyssa. “They’re not due to check in for another three hours?”

They were the crew of our sister ship on this voyage, the Suul Vek. With space flight being so new to us the Yullen Space Force insisted that all freighters travelled in pairs. Partly to ward off the threat of pirates but also to increase the chances of crew survival in case of an emergency. We were still separated by of millions of kilometres but we kept in regular contact, every five hours.

I dropped the pamphlet I was reading back onto the pile and hit the com switch. “This is Arias, K’Thell speaking.”.

Static rose up out of the speaker for several seconds before being broken up by odd words…. “….Ell….main reac….have…minutes…radiation increa…escape pods…” and then it cut off.

“Hello? Hello? Please say again? Please repeat message?” I said but static was the only reply.

“Where are they?” I asked.

Nyssa was already examining the rudimentary sensors on the panel in front of her. “Given their last position they should be at bearing zero four five mark zero zero two. Range two million kilometres.”

I was already turning the ship, nudging her speed up to maximum it would still take almost ten minutes to reach them.

We flew in silence. Each of us unwilling to share our fears. No Yullen spacecraft had been lost since the Space Force was formed and, with every successful trip, Yullen crews got a little more paranoid, a little more worried. Because eventually there would have to be an accident. We were still newborns, barely able to crawl in Cosmic terms. As we travelled we periodically tried the com channel again but received only static. 

Nine minutes later and I slowed to impulse. A few seconds after that and we saw them. They were immobile, listing slightly off true but apart from that the ship looked fine. Like the Arias the Suul Vek was a production model of the Kwell L’Thon, The aft sphere was the engineering and cargo section, with four nacelles branching off of it. A thin section of hull connected the aft sphere to the forward sphere, this one smaller, housing the cockpit and crew quarters.

I slowed to a dead stop and we tried the com again. There was still nothing. “I’m going to try docking.” I said and reached for the thrusters controls.

“Wait!” Nyssa yelped.

“What is it?”

She was hunched over the scanners now. “Their reactor is leaking. The whole ship is completely flooded with Metreon radiation.”

“We’ve got suits.” I offered lamely.

“Not good enough. Metreon radiation will go right through them.” She looked up at me. “There’s no way they can have survived this.”

 I ignored her gaze, focusing instead on their ship. “Any life signs?”

She shook her head. “Negative. But the radiation is messing with my sensors.”

“But they couldn’t survive that level of radiation anyway?”

“No.” She replied, her voice breaking up slightly.

“What about the escape pods?”

“Still in their berths but there’s no way they could have reached them in time anyway.”

I closed my eyes to shut out the view of the ship but all that did was bring to mind the faces of the Suul Vek’s crew. Col T’Thun, middle aged Father of seven who had been with us on the first warp flight, and Willett Vull, eager young pilot on his first deep space mission. I opened my eyes. “Damn. We should have listened to the Federation and dumped those Metreon reactors.”

Nyssa snorted. “Yeah, and we might have done if they’d given us the technology to do it.”

“They did what they thought was right. Their Prime Directive precludes giving us such technology, they felt we should progress at our own rate until we were ready to join the Federation.”

“Stupid rule.”

“They just don’t want us running till we can walk.”

“They just don’t like the competition.” She said and I couldn’t be bothered to argue anymore so I let her rant. “They see us as children and expect us to be grateful for the crumbs they give us. At least the Ferengi wanted to help us.”

“For a price.” I said softly. “And that proves my point. They could have sold us anything, weapons so powerful we might have wiped ourselves out, bio- technology we couldn’t begin to understand that might have killed millions.”

Nyssa looked down her nose at me. “You’ve been reading too many pamphlets.” She said gesturing to the pile by my seat. “You’re starting to think like Starfleet already.”

“Am I?” I replied. “Look at what we did get from the Ferengi. We only had enough mined Felderite to buy one piece of technology from them, just one. And what did we choose? The transporter. How smart of us, how advanced. Do you even know what else was on the table?” she shook her head. “No, you wouldn’t do because the Elders kept it quiet, but things always have a way of getting out into the open. They gave us a choice of four items. The transporter, combined photon torpedo and phaser technology, replicators that probably would have saved the fifteen thousand who died of starvation in F’Renth province two years ago, and a clean warp five engine.” Now it was my turn to snort. “I suppose I should be grateful we didn’t end up armed to the teeth.”

“What do we do with them?” she asked. Unwilling or unable to counter my argument but too stubborn to even consider my viewpoint.

“Well, we can’t  tow them, not at warp anyway. I guess we mark the position and send a recovery team out.”

“What’s the point. Metreon Radiation has a half life of thirty years, it will be centuries before it’s safe for anyone to get into that coffin.”

“Damn it we’re stupid!” I said suddenly.

“Huh?”

I turned in my seat, no longer annoyed with her because she’d sparked something in my brain with her talk of coffins. “The refuge.” I said. “Would they be safe in the refuge?”

Now I saw the light of hope flare in her eyes I knew before she answered that all was not lost. “Yes, probably. I mean for now at least. Metreon radiation will leak through eventually but not for fifteen, maybe twenty minutes.”

“Reconfigure and focus the sensors, see if you can get any kind of reading from inside the refuge.”

While she worked I stared hopefully at the Suul Vek. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of the refuge before. Every Yullen ship had one, a heavily shielded compartment- barely big enough for two people to sit down in- located in the centre of the foremost sphere. Yullen ships had rudimentary shields and thick skins but there were still ferocious ion storms and solar flares that were too much for us. In those instances the crew retired to the refuge to wait out the storm. Now I was hoping that was what Col and Willett had done.

It took her mere seconds. “You were right!” she almost screamed the words out. “I have two, very faint, life signs inside the refuge.”

“Is there enough for a transporter lock?” I asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, at least I think so.”

I shrugged. “It’s the only chance they have, lets go.” And without another word I clambered out of my seat, with Nyssa close behind. Darting quickly though the memetic plastic doors we scrambled down the ladder that interconnected the three floors of the command sphere. From the central section we passed though the connecting corridor to the larger portion of the ship and through another memetic door into the cargo bay.

It seems a misnomer now to call it huge but it was easily the largest space on the ship…or at least it was when empty. Now the bolts of Planthian silk meant it was as cramped as the rest of the ship. Our destination was sat between several bolts of vivid purple silk that reminded me uncomfortably of funeral drapes. I hoped that wasn’t an omen.

The transporter was small, just a single circular pad with a waist high console stood by it. It was a copy of the original model the Ferengi had sold us but it seemed to work just fine. Of course we’d never used it for anything living, even though the Yullen Space Force had cleared it for live subjects a year before.

Nyssa clambered onto the large pad, there were three ever decreasing circles on the pad, each glowing a dull amber as the system was in low power mode. I flicked a switch on the darkened console and it came to life, the three amber circles soon brightened, Nyssa thumbed a switch in the centre of the central disc and it split into two halves, each of them flipping up and over and revealing circuitry within.

“How long to switch to quantum transport?”

“Not long, two maybe three minutes.” She replied. “It’ll cut it close but the radiation should take at least another five minutes to penetrate the refuge.” Three minutes seemed like an eternity but I knew it was vital she reconfigured the transporter from it’s molecular presets. That as good enough for inanimate matter but if we wanted Col and Willett  to be breathing it was a necessity.

I began to warm up the controls and linked in the targeting computer to Nyssa’s reconfigured sensors. Soon I too saw two faint lifesigns that the computer assured me it would be able to transport out. Unfortunately the computer also gave me additional information that was far less positive. “Damn.” I looked up. “Nyssa, did you leave the transporter on after we beamed the cargo aboard?”

She looked up from her crouched ministrations and shook her head. . “No.” Indignation quickly gave way to  worry. “Why?”

I glanced back down at the readings. “Because the battery power is below nineteen percent.”

“Ok, that’s bad but still enough for two transports.”

Now it was my turn to shake my head. “No it isn’t. It would be enough for two transports if we were still using the presets but transporting at a quantum level requires more power. Twelve percent to be exact. There won’t be enough to beam out both of them.”

“The battery levels will rise back again now the system is one line again.”

“Not fast enough. It will take at least twenty minutes for the main reactors to cycle enough energy through to allow another transport.”

“They’ll be dead by then.” Nyssa stated the obvious.

“I know.” I whispered. I closed my eyes and tried to think, “Can we connect the main reactor straight into the transporter?”

“No we can’t. The Ferengi technology is almost incompatible with ours. Only the adapter linkage can funnel energy from one into the other, there’s no way to increase the flow and no way to bypass it.”

 I banged a fist down on the console, ignoring the pain that lanced up my arm. “Damn stupid pile of Y’Tek dung.”

Nyssa returned her gaze to her work. “There’s still hope.” She murmured before looking up and into my eyes. “For one of them at least.”

I stared back. “We’re expected to choose one to live and one to die?”

“Better than both dying.” She replied and went back to work once more.

I looked at the scans. The lifesigns were faint but it was still relatively easy to distinguish between the two. Willett’s youth was evident in his stronger bio signs. I stared at the readings for several seconds. If I did nothing two men would die. If I did something one of them would be saved. “Which one?” I asked, my mouth dry.

“Oh no. Don’t put that pressure on me. You’re the Captain, you decide.”

I looked at her but she’d already dropped her gaze back to her work. I stared for several seconds. The closest she came to looking up was when she swivelled her eyes my way quickly, a guilty look on her face.

I decided I’d hate her later. I had more important things to decide. Who lived; who died.

At this point I’d never met an actual Vulcan but I’d heard lots about them and their famed logic and I tried to imagine what a dispassionate Vulcan would do. The answer seemed obvious at first. Willett was barely out of childhood with his whole life ahead of him while Col, although not really old by any definition of the word, had lived a large portion of his life.

It wasn’t really that simple though. Willett was a single man whose parents had died when he was very young, leaving him to be brought up in an Orphanage. He had no family. Col on the other hand had a wife and seven children, ok so the children lived with his wife’s parents but his function as their Father was still important. Col was also at the forefront of Yullen space exploration and several of his proposals had formed the basis for our next generation of freighter, currently still mere conceptual drawings. If the ship was going to be built a man like Col T’Thun was the one who would push the project through to completion.

Then, of course, there was the friendship angle. Col and I were not great friends, but we had been acquaintances for a long time and, even if you aren’t fond of someone, that kind of longevity bred a certain form of attachment. Willett Vull was, by contrast, a mere cipher. I met him for the first time when we reached Planthia and had barely spoken to him. He seemed sweet though, smart and funny. 

Col had children who needed a Father but if I saved him I’d be robbing the future of any offspring Willett might have. Nyssa was still engrossed in her work but I knew I was running out of time…Col and Willett were running out of time.

I shook my head. “I cant win.” I muttered softly.

And that was when the thought first struck me. If there is such a thing as a metaphorical light bulb lighting up above someone’s head then I must have had a doozy hovering above me right then.

Suddenly what had been a nagging feeling came into focus. There was something ever so familiar about this and it only took me a few seconds to work it out.

Kobayashi Maru.

In one of the pamphlets had detailed various classes and tests a Cadet would have to take while at the Academy. One of these was the Kobayashi Maru. A test of character to see if a Cadet could deal with a no win scenario.

I glanced at Nyssa, she was closing the twin hatches now, her job seemingly complete. I thought about her dismissive comments about Starfleet, about how odd she’d seemed the last few days. I thought about how often I left those pamphlets just lying around and I thought about how boring these trips were.

“Is it done?” I asked.

She stood. “Yeah, ready to go.”

I nodded and looked down at the console, at the bio signs of Col and Willet. There was no more time. I had to choose.

And so I did.

Nyssa had no time to cry out, no time to run. The transport was almost instantaneous and in a matter of nanoseconds she was gone, beamed aboard the Suul Vek.

Even as my fingers had activated the transporter a part of my mind had screamed, What the hell are you doing! Now it was done that part of my mind exerted control and I physically fell to the ground as my legs crumbled under me. My hands were shaking and I could barely breathe. I’d just sent a woman to her probable death on the basis of my own paranoia.

Slowly, after several very long seeming seconds, I stood up. The sensors were still focused on Col and Willett, there was no sign of Nyssa, unsurprising since I beamed her into the cargo bay of the Suul Vek. Unsurprising also since her life had probably already ended.

I was in shock and walked slowly back to the cockpit in a daze. Finding my way on autopilot I was actually surprised when I finally found myself back in the pilots seat. I stared at the other ship, now a coffin for three people instead of two. I still couldn’t believe I’d done what I did, that I’d let a foolish conspiracy theory  override every shred of Yullen decency. My career was over, my life was over. I’d never again make it into space, never make it to Starfleet, probably never see Liella again.

And then the Suul Vek began to move, on thrusters only, turning itself back to a true bearing. I swallowed hard when an instant later the com channel flashed.

I just kept staring at the Suul Vek, despite the tears streaming from my eyes, despite the horrible sobs wracking my body. “Bastards.” I whispered. “You bloody, bloody bastards.”

ACT 3.

“Nice people you hung around with back then.” Said Devonshire softly.

K’Thell shrugged. “Believe it or not they thought they were doing me a favour.”

“I don’t see how?” said Bren.

“They thought any Yullen who entered Starfleet would be an oddity at best, a token dumb Alien. They wanted to scare me off joining so I wouldn’t be ridiculed.”

“But of course Starfleet is full of dumb Aliens.” Said Gerrex. “Take most Humans after all.” He added with a grin.

“Careful, Mister Gerrex or they’ll be one less dumb Betazed in the Galaxy.” Said the only Human present.

“Sorry, Sir.” Said Gerrex, still grinning. It was a grin that Devonshire mirrored.

“So, did Nyssa come back on board?” asked Bren.

K’Thell shook her head. “No, realising that it would take a few minutes to re-jig the transporter on the Suul Vek I simply set a course for home and jumped to warp. For the next five days we played cat and mouse. They followed close behind but I stayed at warp and the transporter we had was too limited to manage a transport between two ships at warp. They kept a near constant barrage of radio messages directed my way but I turned the volume on the com panel way down and played some particularly heavy Yullen Funeral Dirges…it was actually quite fun.” And she smiled at this. “Not for them though, the ship was cramped for two so you can imagine how uncomfortable it was for three.”

“Nice revenge.” Said Gerrex.

“I thought so.” Said K’Thell looking quite pleased with herself. “I slowed down a few hours before we reached home and contacted them. They were apologetic but I told them to forget it and let Nyssa beam back. When we landed the first thing I did was

resign, the second thing I did was submit my application form. You see, they did me a favour because now I knew I could face at least one thing the academy had to throw at me. From my perspective I sailed through the Kobyashi Maru with flying colours before I ever reached San Francisco. I’d been at the Academy a month when I had a quiet word with my mentor about the Kobyashi Maru. She had a word with the Superintendent and I was quietly overlooked when the test came around.”

“What about the others? Are you still in touch with them?” asked Devonshire.

K’Thell looked a little sad now. “Col died about seven months ago. The experimental warp six engine he was testing went out of phase just as he passed the warp four barrier. His ship shook itself apart before it dropped back into normal space. Nyssa I haven’t spoken to since the day I landed. Last I heard she was still flying the Arias and is really quite a bitter woman, apparently her co-pilots don’t stick around long. She’s been turned down for the Academy three times. Willett however applied a while ago and was probably the second Yullen after me to enrol. We’re actually quite good pen pals. Of the three of them he was the one who wasn’t convinced it was a good idea. He was also the only one to really apologise afterwards.”

Bren nodded sagely. “At least a lot of good came out of it.”

Gerrex suddenly clapped his hands together. “Enough already! It’s my turn.” Now he rubbed his hands together gleefully. “Give me your best shot, Doc.”

Bren sighed. “Ok then, it’s been obvious since the day each of us met you that, for reasons many cannot understand, you’re quite popular with the opposite sex.”

Gerrex chuckled.

“Anyway.” Continued Bren. “There must be a time when your…popularity got you into trouble with a woman.”

Gerrex thought for a moment. “Just one?” he asked. “How about three!”

Save the last dance.

“My brain is melting...if I have to take one more lecture with Professor Drun I’ll scream!” said the girl named Grace Costermeyer as they left the lecture theatre.

There were three of them, a small pack within a much larger pack of students streaming out of the huge lecture room.

“Ah, he’s not so bad.” Said Sen Gerrex.

“You’re an idiot.” Said Grace slapping him on his left shoulder.

“Damn sure of that.” Said the last member of the trio, David Fiche slapping Gerrex on his right shoulder.

“Ow and Ow!” said Gerrex, snaking a look of pain towards each friend in turn.

“Wuss.” Said Fiche.

“Baby.” Said Grace.

As the large group of similarly attired third year cadets got further and further away from their last class they in turn became sparser and sparser as various tiny cliques headed off in a multitude of directions.

Soon the pack of three were alone, sat around a picnic table within the elegantly kept Academy gardens. They’d made only a short stop at a busy replimat for snacks.

“I still say Grun is a hundred times batter than Commander Lasky.” Said Gerrex biting into a chilidog.

“Lasky’s a fox though.” Said Grace, she had a bowl of plomeek soup in front of her but had yet to take a sip, instead stirring her spoon in lazy circles through the thick orange brew.

“You have weird taste in men.” Said Fiche.

“Of course, just look at the specimens I hang around with.” She smiled.

“You’re lucky we let you.” Said Gerrex. “What’s with the Vulcan soup anyway? I thought you hated that stuff?”

“I do.” She sighed, “But I promised my Father I’d give a Vulcan food another try.”

Grace’s heritage was somewhat unusual within their year group. Three quarters human she was also one quarter Vulcan, courtesy of her Fathers Mother, T’Lor. The only noticeable sign of her heritage were her ears, delicately pointed they were rarely on display, her long brown hair usually hanging over them. She was tall, and skinny although naturally so, and with definite curves as Mother Nature had blessed- or was it cursed?- her with breasts larger than her frame warranted. She was pretty, in a tomboyish way, her features thin and angular. She wore a permanently amused smirk that some took as arrogance but friends like Gerrex and Fiche knew it was just her natural state of mind. She could no more change the way she was than T’Lor would stop pestering her son to make his daughter ‘more Vulcan’.

It was a lost cause. Both Gerrex and Fiche agreed, Grace was the least logical person they knew.

“I’d offer to swap but God knows what that’d do to me.” Said Fiche taking a large bite out of his cheese sandwich. Tall and handsome, with raven black hair neatly parted in the centre, David Fiche’s athletic physique hid a shy, quite bright boy who was allergic to more foodstuffs than Sen Gerrex had had girlfriends.

The three had been friends since almost their first day at the Academy and it was rare that one was seen without the other two. Over the years the bond between them had grown strong. Gerrex and Grace had been by Fiches side as his ever-expanding diet discovered new and bizarre allergies. Gerrex and Fiche had been there for Grace to rant at when her Parents unreasonable demands became too much and Grace and Fiche gave Gerrex room or support as needed when the attacks of Silena had started to get more frequent, more painful.

The group had no leader. Some days Gerrex took the lead, on others it was Grace. Fiche was usually happy to follow however but that was his nature to do so and most people who knew him felt he’d end up one of those dogged old Lieutenants, vast experience but not intuitive enough for true Command.

“Well at least there’s no more Grun till next year now.” Said Fiche.

“No more micro quantum fluid dynamics for months…yes!” said Gerrex punching the air.

“Only one thing left before we break up for the summer.” Said Fiche.

“The Sadie Hawkins dance.” Said Grace.

“So, you asked anyone yet?” said Gerrex before popping the end of his chilidog in his mouth.

Grace actually took a sip of soup, so reluctant was she to answer. “No, not yet.” She said furtively.

Even if she hadn’t looked so guilty Gerrex would have picked up her true feelings anyway. Being a Betazed was a blessing most of the time. Although it could be a curse as well. She’s thinking about asking someone close to her, but she’s afraid to. He thought to himself. The object of her desire seemed all to clear; Fiche.

Which just goes to show how wrong even the smartest of empaths can be.

“Well Alanah Prill asked me yesterday.” Said Fiche proudly.

Grace narrowed her eyes. “Is she the cute red haired Fabrini? The Parrises squares player?”

Fiche nodded. “That’s the one. I said yes, of course.”

“Of course.”

“You realise she asked me first, right?” said Gerrex with an amused smile.

Fiche sighed. “Yes I do.” He said with mock resignation. “But long ago I vowed never to look a gift horse, or one of Gerrex’s cast-offs, in the mouth.”

“You turned her down?” said Grace.

“I had my reasons.”

“Yeah.” Chuckled Fiche. “And there she is now.” He said pointing off.

“Xel Darin,” said Grace with contempt as she watched the Cadet from a distance.

Centuries ago Xel Darin was the sort of woman whose face would have adorned advertising hoardings, magazine covers and television shows. Had she been human that is, which she wasn’t.

Xel Darin was a Trill- un-joined at present- she was tall, slender. Her skin was deathly pale, despite the hot Californian sun, and this served only to accentuate the dark spots that ran across her body and to her forehead. Her hair was pale blonde, short but utterly feminine, slicked back tight to her head. Her eyes were blue but incredibly warm, as was her smile, liable to light up any room. She was the eponymous ‘most popular girl on campus’…and Sen Gerrex was smitten.

“Not a hope.” Said Fiche.

“We’ve flirted.” Said Gerrex catching Xel’s eye and waving. She returned the wave before turning to her friends and giggling before they hurried off.

“Excuse me, I was there.” Said Fiche. “You flirted. She just looked embarrassed.”

“She’s just playing hard to get.” Said Gerrex. “I can wait.”

Grace laughed and pushed her soup away from her. Standing she gathered her PADDs together and clutched them close to her chest. “Don’t wait too long.” She said. “The dance is three days away and it would be such a shame if Sen Gerrex pulled a Data! Anyway, gotta rush, I have to scoot over to the library and finish off my paper on haemolytic inhibitors. See you guys at the Dragon later?”

They both nodded. The Dragon was a pub just outside of Aberystwyth they’d been introduced too by an upper classman at the start of their second year. No cadet frequented the bars close to campus and most used their transporter allowance to travel far and wide in search of the latest trendy nightspot. Though all three liked to party the relaxed atmosphere of the Dragon was where they went to chill out.

“See you later.” Said Fiche as they watched her jog off. After a moment he turned to Gerrex. “She could be right.” He said. “If you wait for Xel too long you’ll lose your window of opportunity and pulling a Data won’t soon be forgotten.

Gerrex knew what a ‘Data’ was, every Cadet learned the story in their first year. The Sadie Hawkins dance was an annual event at the end of the final term. A huge formal dance that was strictly a girls ask boys affair. In all the years the academy had been in existence the dance was a couples only affair, though some were never asked usually even the geekiest of boys was asked out by a girl equally as plain or just plain desperate.

Until Data. The android had not been asked but had gone anyway and the story of the robot who merely sat on the sidelines watching events with a bemused smile on his face before returning to his quarters alone, having not spoken to or danced with anyone, had become an Academy legend.

“I won’t pull a Data because I just won’t go if no one asks me.” He said. “I hear the Bronze is holding it’s annual Screw Sadie party anyway.”

“Well hopefully someone will ask you then.” Came a soft voice from behind them.

The two men turned their heads to see a woman standing behind them. She wore the markings of a fourth year and even though Gerrex had never spoken to her he recognised her instantly.

“Ambrosia Clay.” She said, extending a slender brown hand in his direction. Her smile was warm and he sensed her attraction to him.

He took her hand. “I’m seen you around.” He said. “I’m Sen, Sen Gerrex.”

“I know.” She said mischievously.

He raised an eyebrow. “Really?” he asked.

She nodded. “You’re infamous, even among the fourth years.”

Gerrex couldn’t wipe the stupid grin from his face. Ambrosia, food of the Gods and that she was. If Xel Darin was unattainable then Ambrosia Clay was several steps beyond unattainable. She was petite, of East Indian extraction. Her skin was a deep brown and her black hair was long and silky, tumbling almost to her waist. Her almond eyes were wide pools that seemed to contain all the mysteries of the Universe within them. If only some lucky man could stare into them long enough. As well as beauty she had brains and it was almost a foregone conclusion that she would graduate head of the class of sixty eight. Rumour had it that Captain Keogh had already persuaded her to sign aboard the Odyssey as Science Officer.

“Really?” He replied. “Can’t think why.” He stuttered.

“Lets just say several girlfriends of mine say you’re the life and soul of the party.”

“I try. This is my friend, David Fiche.” Said Gerrex suddenly remembering the man sat next to him.

Ambrosia cast a split second “Hi.” In Fiche’s direction, never once taking her eyes off of Gerrex. “So, the Sadie Hawkins dance.” She said. “Want to be my date?”

Resisting the urge to simply say “Yes.” Gerrex frowned. “Why me?”

She shrugged. “Let’s just say the men my age are a trifle boring at the moment, too concerned with their first assignments to pay much attention to a lady.”

“Their loss.” Said Gerrex, “I’d love to go with you.”

She lowered her eyes coquettishly. “Cool.” She said softly, suddenly nervous as if she’d been expecting him to refuse. “Look, I’m going for drinks with friends first, how about I see you at the dance. We have table 37 reserved already. Eight o’clock?”

“See you then.” Said Gerrex and as quickly as she had arrived she was gone.

“Damn you’re easy.” Said Fiche. “What happened to Xel?”

Gerrex laughed. “A guy can’t win with you people. You tell me not to turn people down then question when I don’t? Maybe I figure you and Grace were right, Xel was never going to ask me. Besides…” he looked wistfully off into the distance, the dumb grin still on his face. “Ambrosia Clay!”   

 It was twenty seven hours later when Sen Gerrex received his second proposal.

He was alone in his room, laid out on the bed with the lights turned off and his eyes closed. The attack had started a few minutes earlier and the Pylium he had just taken hadn’t quite kicked in enough to completely blot out the hammer pounding migraine he had. When there was a knock at his door he scowled and chose to ignore it. The knock was repeated, twice, each time louder than before and suddenly his headache was getting worse again.

“Ok, I’m coming.” He said as he tumbled from the bed and stalked across the room to the door. Unlatching it he jerked it open, “This better not be another Rag collection because if it…” his sentence stumbled to a halt. It was Grace Costermeyer.

“Hey, stranger.” He said. “We missed you at the Dragon.”

“Sorry.” She said with a toss of her hair. “My paper wouldn’t let me get away. Can you believe I discovered another two articles on haemolytic inhibitors and battlefield medicine that I’d never heard of before? It was midnight before I left the Library and much as I needed a beer, I needed sleep more.”

Gerrex squinted in the wan light from the corridor outside. “You want to come in?”

She shook her head. “No, I can see you’re not up to a visit, I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Shoot.” Said Gerrex, his empathic abilities were offline because of the attack and so, for once, he was taken completely by surprise.

“Would you do me the honour of accompanying me to the Dance?”

A torrent of emotions flooded though Gerrex’s already distracted head. Fear, shock, joy, confusion. Several answers came to mind but his response was automatic. “I’d love to.” He said even as his mind screamed No.

Grace let out the breath she’d been holding in an over exaggerated sigh. “Thank God for that. You wouldn’t believe how wound up I was about asking you. I nearly did it yesterday before you noticed old spotty, Xel Darin.” She smiled. “I decided then to give you another day of her not asking you to make you more open to my offer.”

“Xel hasn’t asked me.” Said Gerrex, truthfully, regretting now his decision to wait and tell Grace in person about Ambrosia.  

While Gerrex stood in his doorway looking perplexed Grace mistook it from the attack she knew he must be having. “Look, get some rest. I’ll chat to you about the Dance tomorrow, ok?”

“Ok.” Said Gerrex on autopilot once more.

Her smile was so full of joy that even if he wasn’t in a daze he couldn’t have ruined the moment for her. “Great, catch you later.” And then she leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. It was several minutes after she’d gone before Gerrex tore himself away from the doorway and the light and returned to his darkness, made even darker now by this new turn of events.

“You said, yes?” said Fiche exasperatedly. “How the hell could you say yes?”

“She caught me off guard.” Said Gerrex defensively. He was sat on the edge of his bed while Fiche was sat on a nearby stool. “I was having an attack, could barely focus on anything. When she asked I replied on autopilot. I mean I always had a bit of a thing about her and…”

“You figured when would you get another chance, right?”

“Right.”

“So,” said Fiche. “Which one are you disappointing?” Gerrex stayed quiet, instead lowering his gaze to avoid Fiche’s. “Oh you’re kidding me? You can’t take both of them you know.”

Now Gerrex looked up, a wry grin on his face. “Why not?” he asked. When Fiche tutted he continued. “Look, the commencement hall is huge, and they’ll be thousands of couples there. All I have to do is ensure they’re at opposite ends of the room, it’s not like they travel in the same social circles.”

“Sen.” Said Fiche. “This is crazy, even for you. I know you feel you can’t let Grace down, just like I know your ego would never let your turn down a date with a fox like Ambrosia, but this can’t end well. Not even you can get away with two simultaneous dates.”

Gerrex looked at Fiche, he took a deep breath and let out a sigh that was part frustration and part excitement. “Three.” He said, actually enjoying the look on Fiche’s face. He never knew his jaw could open that wide. “Actually it’ll be three dates. Xel Darin asked me this morning.”

“Will you stop messing around, it looks fine.” Said Grace.

Gerrex frowned but he took his hands away from his bow tie. Like ninety percent of the men around him he wore a classic tuxedo, black with a white shirt. His bow tie however was made from metamorphic Tholian silk and as such it changed colour every few minutes, at the moment it was a deep maroon.

When he had first seen her dressed up Gerrex had contemplated forgetting the whole scheme and telling her the truth. He couldn’t though. The time to abandon his plan had been  well before now.

He held her hand tightly as they entered the huge reception hall, Fiche and his date right behind them. He looked at her again. Her dress was Tholian Silk as well, although purely one colour, a deep, almost blood red ball gown. Simple yet elegant. Her hair was piled high atop her head, revealing her ears which, not for the first time ever, Gerrex found incredibly erotic. There was just something about girls with pointed ears…

“There’s hardly anyone here.” said Alanah Prill, Fiche’s date. “Why did we have to come so early?”

“Er...because we wanted to make sure we got a nice table.” Said Fiche thinking on his feet.

“Oh.” She replied.

“Boy this is tacky.” Said Grace. “I’m beginning to think we should have headed for the Screw Sadie party after all.”

Gerrex looked around. “I know what you mean.” He said. Every year the Dance had a theme and this year it was ‘Under The Sea’. As such every wall was hidden behind holographic projections that showed visions of life beneath the pacific. It was like being inside an inside out aquarium, with shoals of multicoloured fish swimming all around and even a very unconvincing sunken galleon. Gerrex did think the sharks that swam overhead were a trifle inappropriate however.

They found a table very close to the stage upon which the band were currently setting up. “Phew.” Said Gerrex as they sat down. “You know, I’m going to have to take a quick trip to the rest rooms.”

“Already?” said Grace. “You went just before we left?”

“I know.” Said Gerrex. He paused for a second, his brain scrambling for an excuse. He found it and smiled. “I’m just a bit nervous I guess.” He said patting his tummy.

“Hurry back.” Said Grace. “It’s starting to fill up now.”

Gerrex jogged as nonchalantly as possible to the anteroom that contained the toilets. He sailed right past both doors however and instead fought his way up the stairs past a seemingly never ending throng of people coming down them. The stairs were difficult to navigate but once he reached the first floor corridor it got easer because at least there was no one else moving towards the transporter room, instead well dressed couples exited it at regular intervals.

Once inside he approached the bored looking Crewman manning the controls. “Hi.” He said, flashing his most desperate smile. Fishing his transporter allowance card out of his pocket he waved it in the Crewman’s direction. “I need to get back to my room, quickly. I’ve forgotten my medicine and if I don’t take it soon I’m probably going to have an attack.”

“This transporter is only supposed to be for incoming guests tonight.” Said the young boy, his voice little more than a croak. “I’m not supposed to let people go the other way.”

“Please?” pleaded Gerrex.

The young man swallowed nervously. Just then two more couples materialised on the pads, their riotous laughter ringing through the room. The transporter operator cast one more look at Gerrex and then jabbed his finger down on the controls. “Ok, but be quick.” He said as the couples exited and silence returned to the room once more.

“You have no idea what this means to me.” Said Gerrex with a grin and hopped up on the pads.

“Where too?”

“Phoenix Hall.”

The young crewman quickly manipulated the controls and a moment later Gerrex was gone. A moment after that the young man frowned. His frown quickly turned into confusion. “Hey!” he muttered. “Phoenix Hall is all girls!”

“I thought you were never getting here.” Said Xel Darin with a sly grin as she opened the door to find Gerrex waiting there.

“Sorry.” He replied. He tugged on his bow tie, now bright pink, “Couldn’t find my tie. You look spectacular.” He quickly added, wanting to change the subject.

And she did. Her dress was a long slinky silver number that clung to her body like a second skin, emphasising all of her curves. As she stepped outside Gerrex could almost swear he could see spots through the material.

“Shall we take the transporter?”

Gerrex gulped. “No, it’s a lovely evening. Lets walk.” He took her hand, marvelling at the delicate nature of her skin.

They made it half way to the Commencement Hall before Xel stopped in a secluded part of the Academy gardens. “Slow down, Sen.” She said. “There’s no hurry.” She added as Gerrex had been dragging them along at a hurried walking pace. He didn’t want to leave Grace alone too long and was just glad that Ambrosia had said she would see him there.

“I just want to get you to the dance in plenty of time.” He stuttered.

She looked seductively at him. “We don’t need the dance.” she said and lunged forward, catching Gerrex off guard. Sliding her arms around him she kissed him. The fission he felt as their lips met was nothing compared to the electricity as she ran her hands up and down his back, her tongue darting in and out of his mouth like a hummingbird. He tried to push her off but it was a half-hearted effort, in truth he was enjoying the kiss far too much. Still he silently prayed to the Gods of Rixx that some miracle would interrupt them so that he wouldn’t have to.

“Can’t you young people wait until after the dance anymore?” came a gruff voice from behind them. 

They broke apart like a shot, Xel looking for all the world like a naughty schoolchild now. “Sorry.” She said.

“Miss Darin, I would have expected better from you.” Said Gerrex’s saviour. “You on the other hand.” And he pointed at Gerrex. “Sen Gerrex, this is exactly the sort of thing I’d expect from you.”

“Sorry.” Echoed Gerrex. He grabbed Xel’s hand. “We really should be getting to the Dance.” He said. This time as he pulled her along at high speed, Xel didn’t resist.

Boothby watched them go. The aged Groundskeeper was leaning on his rake handle, a dismayed look on his face as he watched them go. Slowly he shook his head. “Sometimes I really do worry about the Universe.” He said.

“That was close.” Said Xel as they entered the Hall.

“I’ll say.” Said Gerrex. “Shame really, I was really enjoying myself too.” He said and gave her hand a squeeze.”

She squeezed back, sliding into nuzzle his neck. “Don’t worry, there’s plenty more where that came from later.”

“Excellent.” Said Gerrex as the crowds mingled around them. He allowed himself a few seconds of pleasure before breaking away. “Look, you grab a seat. I’ll get us some drinks. What do you want?”

“I’ll come too.” She said.

Gerrex shook his head. “No, you take the weight off your feet, those shoes must be killing you.” He said pointing to her silver high heels.

“Aw, you’re sweet.” She said. “I’ll have an Altair water. Don’t want to get too drunk too soon.” She smiled and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “I’ll be over there.” She said before moving off into the crowd.

Gerrex began heading towards the bar, but after a few seconds he made an about turn and strode quickly-as quickly as he could- through the sprawling mass of men women and others, all decked out in their finest.

He’d almost made it to Grace’s table when he inadvertently banged into a young women, spilling the half glass of liquid she held all over her dark dress. “Watch it!” she said.

“Sorry!” Gerrex apologised, barely glancing at the tall blonde. He kept moving, leaving her in his wake.

The Second Year cadet wiped at her dress, thanking her lucky stars that she’d only had water so it shouldn’t stain. Looking up again she glared at the back of the man who had banged into her before he was rapidly gobbled up by a sea of other black jackets. “Jackass!” muttered Louise Ramplin before heading off to the ladies.  

“Where the hell have you been?” asked Grace, her arms folded in consternation as she saw him arrive.

He half laughed. “Sorry, there was a queue and when I came out Ducky Henderson bent my ear about our philosophy finals. You know what he’s like.” He flashed a smile and sat down, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

Grace sniffed and wrinkled her nose. “God, what soap are they using in the loos now? You smell like a French tart.”

Gerrex laughed, it was a touch overdone but Grace seemed not to notice. As he glanced around the table his smile faded as he looked at Fiche and he mouthed the word ‘phew’.

Fiche merely rolled his eyes at him.

“So, anyone want a drink? I know I do.” Said Gerrex clapping and then rubbing his hands together.

“Actually, we were waiting for you, Sen.” Said Grace.

“Oops.” He said with a small boys guilty smile. “Must be my round then.” He said standing up once more. “What does everyone want?” he asked.

“Vodka and Tranya.” Said Grace, still frowning.

“Beer.” Said Fiche and Alanah nodded. “Make that two.”

“Ok.” Said Gerrex, “Back soon.”

And he headed for the bar…via table 37.

“Hi there.” Said Ambrosia when he crouched down behind her. “We saved you a seat,” she said gesturing to the empty place by her side.

If Gerrex had been intimidated before by this woman a year older than he, finding himself at a table with a group of her friends, many of them looking down their noses at him was worse. He hoped he wouldn’t be an asshole in a year’s time.

He sighed. “I would do but I just got ambushed by a gang of my friends and they’ve sent me to the bar.” He shook his head. “They’re idiots but I said I’d go.”

She smiled. “That’s ok, just hurry back ok?” she said.

“Will do.” Said Gerrex.

Although the bar was crowded he managed to get served quite quickly by virtue of knowing the young lady serving behind this section the bar. He was glad of this; the busy bar could prove quite the excuse tonight.

He found Xel very close to where he had left her, stood talking with several friends. “Hi, gorgeous!” he said as he joined them, carefully balancing a tray full of drinks.

“I only asked for one.” Said Xel. “Or are you trying to get me drunk?” she added with a grin.

He smiled and then trotted out the same half truth he had already fed Ambrosia. “Ran into some friends who demanded I go to the bar for them.” He said, letting her take her Altair water before leaning in to kiss her. “Sorry I was gone so long.”

“That’s ok, I can see how busy the bar is. Let me guess, you’ve got to take those drinks to your friends now?”

He nodded. “Sorry.” He said guiltily. Promise I’ll be back soon.

And so the evening fell into a familiar pattern. Gerrex would spend about ten minutes with each of his dates before scurrying off to find one of the others with a flimsy excuse usually involving getting drinks or needing the toilet. Strangely as the night wore on it got easier. Grace, Xel and Ambrosia  all got steadily tipsier while Gerrex managed to pass off water as gin or vodka. It also helped when all three girls were ready to dance . With hundreds of people on a dimply lit dance floor hopping from one to another proved easy, especially with the thumping bass of the band to cover any noise whatsoever.

They were called S’Lesh (Klingon for Rock apparently) and were an eclectic four piece combo. The bass guitarist was a Klingon man, as was the insane drummer. The lead guitarist and singer was a beautiful Andorian woman with a powerful voice- and she needed it to be heard over the Klingons- and the fourth member of the group was the most curious of all. An elderly Vulcan playing the lute which served to give even the groups hardest rocking songs a poetic edge.

It was midnight when it all fell apart. Gerrex had just managed to untwine  himself from a clinch with Xel and was on his way to whichever of Ambrosia or Grace he saw first when he ran into Fiche. “Hey, great night, huh?” he asked.

“Sure.” Said Fiche. “Must be fun having three dates!” he shouted to be heard over S’Lesh’s latest number.

“Give me a break.” Said Gerrex. “They’re all having a great time. And so am I!”

“Suit yourself. They will find out you know.”

Gerrex shook his head, a smug grin on his face. “I don’t think so.” He said in a sing song voice.

Fiche smiled. “Just answer me this, Sen. This is our third Sadie Hawkins Dance, right.”

“So?”

“So,” said Fiche, his grin taking on a sinister quality now. “What always happens at midnight?”

“Huh?” said Gerrex as he tried to remember. In truth he’d already retired to his dates room well before midnight last year, and the first year was nothing but a drunken haze for the most part. Still, he knew, even if subconsciously, that it was all over now. And when the music ended and the eager young Bolian - Student body president- ran up on stage Gerrex knew before he spoke what he was going to say.

“Hi everybody. Hope you’re having as fabulous a time as I am!” the Bolian cried out, his voice amplified to all five corners of the huge room. An instant later thousands of voice sang back with a mixture of agreement, nonsense or just plain abuse. The Student ignored all but the positives though. “Great to hear it. We’ll be making several presentations to outgoing students in a few moments. Firstly it’s that time of the evening. Ladies, grab your date, we’re going to proclaim the King and Queen of the dance!”

A huge cheer went up and suddenly the entire crowd moved as one as the women present sought out their dates if they weren’t already with them.

“Oh shit.” Muttered Gerrex.

Fiche had stopped smiling now as Alanah slipped her arms around his waist from behind he let himself be gently pulled away. “I’d stick around, Sen. But you know how much I hate the sight of blood.”

Gerrex spun furiously on his heels. He had one chance and one chance only. That he could fight his way through the crowd without bumping into any of his dates. He began to push his way towards the nearest exits. It could work, all he had to do was tell the three of them tomorrow that he’d taken ill and had to go home. Most everyone knew about the Silena, I’ll just say I had an attack, he thought. Yes the three of them would be left partner-less for the big coronation but it wasn’t unusual. A fair proportion of people never ended up with the dates they arrived with.

Gerrex saw the edge of the crowd now. “Almost made it” he muttered.

And then Grace walked between the people at the edge of the crown, her face lighting up as she saw him. There was no way to avoid her and in seconds she had wrapped her arms around his neck and was kissing him passionately. It was the kiss he had been waiting all night for but he couldn’t enjoy it because he knew what was now increasingly likely to happen.

And he wasn’t disappointed. “Hey, what are you doing with my man!” said Xel Darin.

“Your man!” snapped Grace as they broke apart. “This is my date.” She said, keeping her arms wrapped tight around him.

“Look.” Said Gerrex. “There’s obviously been some kind of misunderstanding.” He said although he had no idea what to say next. No idea of any way out of this but the truth.

“Of course there’s been a misunderstanding.” Said Xel. “You’re my date.

“He’s my date.” Argued Grace.

Gerrex sighed. “Look, you’re both my dates.” He said sheepishly.

Grace released her hold on him and stood back.

The Student President was still talking but the cadets arrayed around Gerrex’s  position were far more interested in the argument developing before their eyes.

“You both asked me out at roughly the same time and I didn’t want to let either of you down.” He said.

Xel snorted. “So you dated us both for our benefit, not yours?” she said.

“Sen Gerrex never does anything for someone else benefit.” Said Grace. She shook her head, her arms folded now. “I really did think I knew the depths to which you’d sink Sen, but this takes the biscuit.”

“When did she ask you out?” said Xel pointing at Grace.

“Wednesday.” Said Gerrex.

Xel laughed. “So, I was second choice?” she said.

“Third actually.” Said Ambrosia.

Gerrex rolled his eyes. That all three of them should come together like this was far to karmic to be coincidence. Perhaps the Universe was trying to tell him something.

Ambrosia looked amused more than anything. “I thought it was funny the way you kept disappearing. Thanks for making me look a fool in front of my friends.” She strode up to Gerrex. “I suppose this is what I get for dating children.” She said and without warning slapped him hard across his right cheek.

Gerrex jerked his head back in shock as much as from the sting of her palm. Without another words she turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Nobody was listening to the Student President anymore, all eyes were focused on the fracas at the edge of the crowd. Several drunken students whooped and clapped loudly as Ambrosia had struck her blow and they repeated their performance when Xel struck Gerrex on the opposite cheek. “Bastard!” she said, tears forming in the corner of her eyes. She shook her head sadly and walked slowly away, trying to ignore the giggles and muffled talk as she passed.

This left Gerrex and Grace, stood alone inside of a small circle surrounded by shocked, amused or just plain confused faces. When Grace walked up to him and raised her hand the crowd took a collective breath. Gerrex steeled himself for another blow.

“I’m all out of cheeks.” He said, trying to inject a glimmer of the Gerrex charm into events.

Grace smiled, but it was a sad smile. A disappointed smile. “You’re not worth it.” She said softly before reaching forward and stroking his cheek. “The trouble was I actually thought you might be.”

And then she was gone, pushing past Gerrex and towards the exit. He turned to follow her, “Grace!” he shouted.

She paused, without looking back she said. “Don’t follow me, Sen. If you ever want us to be friends again just don’t follow me.” And then she started moving once more.

Put simply the party had lost it’s magic after that. Gerrex took another exit and wandered for almost an hour through the Academy gardens. Here and there were couples engaged in romantic trysts and Gerrex watched them with a mixture of sadness and joy. Eventually he stopped by a small pond, taking a seat at a nearby bench. His jacket was thrown over the back of the seat, his bowtie- now a sombre blue- hung un-knotted around his neck, his collar open several buttons. It was a warm night and, despite the revelry, strangely quiet.

 He sat there for several minutes until he sensed a presence next to him. “Don’t you ever sleep?” he asked.

“I sleep.” Said Boothby. “But my Arkadian moon tulips can only be fed after dark, besides I know what you students are like, trampling my flowerbeds on your way home.”

Gerrex nodded. He didn’t have anything else to say.

“I heard about the stunt you pulled tonight.”

“News travels fast.” Said Gerrex. “I suppose it’s what you expected from me.”

The Groundskeeper laughed. “Never in a million years. I’ve seen some audacious stunts pulled in my time but three women?” He shook his head. “I recall in fifty seven Cadet Benedict took two women to the dance- he didn’t get away with it any more than you did by the way- but three. If nothing else you’ll live in infamy Mister Gerrex.” And with that he stood up. “You’re a good student, so I hear, and you’ll make a fine officer. But if you stay as you are you’ll never let anyone get really close to you and it won’t matter if you serve on a Galaxy Class starship. You’ll always be alone.” And then the old man did something that took Gerrex completely by surprise. He rested his hand on his shoulder. “It’s never to late to stop trampling the flowerbeds and get back on the path, Son.” He said.

When the pressure of his hand was released Gerrex turned to speak but the old man was already disappearing into the night.

Turning his attention back to the pond Gerrex pondered what Boothby had said and he recalled the thoughts he had had earlier. Was the Universe really trying to teach him a lesson? Were his womanising ways really going to leave him alone some day? He looked up at the stars, as bright and clear as they would be on Betazed when he looked up at them as a child. Before the Silena had robbed him of part of his innocence. “I’m kinda stubborn.” He said to infinity. “I might need another sign.”

The universe did not reply and Gerrex was about to head home when another figure sat down beside him. “What’s a handsome young man like you doing with no date?” asked the lead singer of S’Lesh. The very leggy, very beautiful Andorian was dressed in a black PVC mini dress.

Gerrex smiled. “Waiting for you, obviously.” He said before sending a wink skywards.

ACT 4

“That was you!” said K’Thell. “I mean I heard the stories, was warned to make sure I was my dates only date…but I figured it was an Academy Myth like Kirk beating the Kobayashi Maru!”

“Actually that’s true.” Said Devonshire.

“And so was mine.” Said Gerrex. He smiled longingly. “My wild and impetuous youth.”

“So,” said Bren. “What happened with the various parties involved.”

Now Gerrex’s smile gave way to a look of sorrow. “When we got back for our final year Grace, Fiche and me still hung out. It was never quite the same though and we all drifted into other friendships. We still keep in touch but it’s infrequent. Fiche is a Lieutenant onboard the Trident now. He spent a lot of the war in a dominion prison camp. Grace is a Lieutenant Commander and second officer of the Lakota.” He dropped his gaze and his voice now. “Ambrosia Clay was aboard the Odyssey when it was destroyed by the Jem’Hadar and Xel Darin…” his voice broke a little and they were all taken aback when he lifted his head up with tears in his eyes. “Xel was on Otiss Six when the Cardassians invaded. There were four hundred Starfleet personal stationed there but when the third fleet retook the planet nine months later there were just seventy nine survivors.” He shook his head. “Xel wasn’t one of them. I never found out how she died but I heard enough rumours of what the Cardassians did to female prisoners to be glad I didn’t.”

An eerie silence descended upon the group as they sat there. After several long minutes Devonshire lifted his glass- they had al moved on to synthahol now. “Old friends.” He said.

“Old friends.” Said the other three, clinking their glasses together.

A loud beeping came from a nearby computer console and Gerrex went to check it out. “The mining is almost complete.” He said. “Another thirty minutes ought to do it.”

“Time enough for one more story.” Said K’Thell grinning at Bren.

Bren nodded. “Ok, shoot.” He said to Devonshire as Gerrex rejoined them.

Devonshire rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Ok then. I always wondered why you never wore an earring. I mean I know it’s technically against regulations but I haven’t known too many Captain’s who would enforce that rule.”

Bren sighed. “I don’t wear one because I don’t believe in the Prophets.” He said. When no one else spoke he continued. “And if you want to know why, I’ll tell you…”

Faith.

Home for me until the age of eighteen was the planet Reliss. It’s a tiny unimportant little speck of rock that you’d be hard pressed to find on any starchart. For my parents and their friends however it seemed to be sent by the Prophets themselves. They never talked much about how they got off Bajor in one piece but once they did their ramshackle ships limped across space for over two years before they crossed the border out of Cardassian territory. Reliss was the first habitable world they found after that and, with their engines failing, it seemed fated that they should make planet fall there. Determining that they could survive on the planet they stripped their ships down to the bare bones and built a tiny community where they thrive to this day.

I was born four months after they landed, conceived on board one of the ships when my parents got a rare moment of privacy. I nearly died before I was one year old due to poorly filtered water and before I was four I’d broken my left leg. From the time I was old enough to understand my parents referred to me in private as a weakling child. Once, when I was seven, I heard them talking with neighbours when they thought I was asleep. I’d recently recovered from a viral infection and my parents remarked that they were constantly amazed that I was still alive and they felt that if I reached the age of eight it would be a miracle. Well, I reached eight and kept going, much to their surprise.

When I was nine I saw my first human. A Doctor called Heller who beamed down with a group of others from a Federation starship that had chanced upon us. They helped us organize ourselves better, gave us replicated tools and blankets, plus several water filters, the biggest killer on Reliss was polluted water.

 The Doctor took a special interest in me and gave me a supply of vitamins that ensured I stayed healthy and even flourished despite our surroundings. I was fascinated by these men and women. Understand that all my life had been a struggle to survive and although the Bajorans on Reliss helped each other out, it was usually in exchange for goods or services. These people from the Federation wanted nothing in return, not even the thanks which my fellow Bajoran’s grudgingly offered.

I knew then that one day I wanted to join them and I hoped they would stay forever. It wasn’t to be however. Although he space Reliss occupied wasn’t Cardassian territory it wasn’t Federation territory either and Cardassian warships soon made it clear that they didn’t want the Federation anywhere near their borders. The Captain of the Federation ship did get one concession from the Gul in charge before they left. He asked that we were left alone. It was a request that I later learned had been backed up by several colourful threats.

Before they left Dr Heller gave me several books to read, claiming that I was  a smart child and should go far.  

By the time I was ten I’d become strong and healthy and regularly helped my Father and the other settlers harvest Milda’Cro.

Reliss is a flat and damp world. It’s year is fourteen months long and, aside from a dry season in the autumn, the air is filled with rain almost every day, from light drizzle to heavy thunderstorms. The majority of the planets surface is marshland, our settlement was built on rocky high ground several kilometres wide surrounded by shallow marshes and it was in these marshes that our main form of sustenance grew.

Milda’Cro was a surprisingly nutritious plant that grew underwater and every day men and women would stand up to their knees in the murky water dragging Milda’Cro plants to the surface.

I don’t want to overestimate the importance of Milda’Cro, it wasn’t as if our entire diet was filled with the stuff. It wasn’t Milda’Cro toast for breakfast, Milda’Cro soup for lunch and stewed Milda’Cro for supper. Our colony was over a thousand strong and we had bought animals with us to provide meat and milk. We had salvaged the hydroponics labs for each crashed ship and we had a wide variety of vegetables to chose from. But if we had been reliant only on what we had bought with us it would have been a much more impoverished life than we had.

In my family we ate Milda’Cro perhaps every third day, usually mixed with other foods but also on it’s own. Still we ate it more frequently than any other. Hasperat was a weekly treat and Kezzet steaks we ate perhaps only four or five times a year.

Milda’Cro had other uses too. It’s seeds were useful for medicines and it’s roots could be bound together to make strong rope.

Most children weren’t tall enough to harvest until they were eleven or twelve but I was tall for my age, even back then and so I demanded my Father take me. He let me but insisted I only work for an hour a day. For the rest of the time I studied or played but mostly I helped out the settlements only Doctor, Hem Kalad, having decided when I met Doctor Heller that medicine would be my calling. And of course I prayed with the rest of my family.

Until…

It was the Autumn of my fifteenth year. The day was warm and the marshes were at their lowest levels for months. Despite the fact that my days at the time were full- harvesting, studying and assisting Dr Hem- my father had insisted I take this day off. The Milda’Cro was plentiful and, as he had for many years, he insisted I still had my childhood to enjoy, at least some of the time.

And so myself and  Sax Jestin, my best friend, had decided to go exploring. The marsh water sloshed around our ankles as we walked but with our heavy boots we hardly noticed it. We passed people toiling in the fields but there was no bitterness, they waved and wished us a pleasant day.

We walked for almost a kilometre, always sticking to the well know pathways because even at this time of year there were treacherous pockets of deep water that had taken many a colonist to their death. Our destination was another, much smaller, outcropping of rock that we referred to as Old Town. The reason for this was the existence of ancient ruins jutting out of the grass covered stone. No one knew who had built them, or what had happened too them and no other ruins had ever been discovered. Not even when my Father had led several expeditions into the surrounding marshes when I was but a toddler.

There were eight buildings, or what was left of them. Their rain worn stone walls had crumbled over the years but still stood at their original height, perhaps a metre and a half, whoever Reliss’ prior inhabitants had been they’d been small. Each building was an identical square with only a single opening one had to crawl through and no windows. Two of the buildings still sported stone roofs but the rest were open to the air, which made them much pleasanter environments than the two dark and spooky whole buildings.

Jestin and I had been coming here for years, since our parents had first allowed us out into the Marshes alone, but this year it was different. We no longer wanted to run and play, no longer wanted to take turns at being evil Cardassians hunting heroic resistance fighters through the ruins. Now all we seemed to want to do was lay back on the hard ground inside one of the sturdier buildings, look up at the ever grey sky and talk.

Jestin was shorter than me and he still carried a little too much puppy fat which made him seem larger than he actually was. His hair was a tousled blonde and his nasal ridges were interspersed with freckles beneath grey eyes. He was only a few months older than me but he’d always been seen as the more mature one. He learned to read before I did, began to work before I did, helping out the settlements sole religious representative, Vedek Lin Pule. He stopped playing with toys before I did too. When I was at the Academy a Human friend introduced me to Earths bible. I did little more than skim it but I recall one passage. Something about putting away childish things. That reminded me of Jestin. I was in my first semester, already homesick for the marshes of home, and now all I could do was remember Jestin; my best friend, my first love and the last day of his life.

“I’m going to leave Reliss soon.” He said that warm autumn day. His voice was determined as he spoke those words and, even thought I couldn’t see them, I could imagine the determination mirrored in his eyes.

My eyes were closed, my hands knitted behind my head forming a pillow of sorts. I was smiling because it was such a fine day. The weather was fine, I had no work and I was with Jestin. “And where are you going to go?” I asked.

“Bajor.” He said.

“Bajor?” Now I opened my eyes, turning onto my side to look at him. “What in the name of the Prophets is on Bajor?”

He didn’t look at me, he just kept staring up at the cloudless pink sky. “Home.” He said.

I laughed at him. “Home? We were born here. This is our home.” I said.

He shook his head. “No, our home is Bajor. Bajor is where the Prophets want us to be. We’re probably displeasing them by hiding here on this dung pile of a world.”

“You hang out with Vedek Lin too much.” I said.

“What do you mean by that?” he snapped suddenly, sitting up and glaring at me.

The tone of his voice startled me and for a few seconds I was silent.

“Well?”

“Nothing.” I said, getting up off of the floor and sitting cross-legged near to him. “It’s just that he’s the only one who ever really talks about Bajor.”

“Oh.” Said Jestin, furtively lowering his gaze. “Sorry.” He stood now, his head poking above the walls of the building. He walked over to the wall facing him and sat back down again, his back to the stone.

I got up and followed him, sitting close to his left side. “How will you get to Bajor?” I asked, keeping my voice even, not wanting to set him off again.

He shrugged. “The Verity is due back in a few months.” He said. “I’m sure they’ll give me passage to the nearest habitable world.”

The USS Verity was a Federation scout ship that stopped by from time to time. The Cardassians got twitchy if the Federation strayed too close to the border for long but the Verity never stayed more than a few hours and, as far as we knew, was never challenged by Cardassians. It was the Verity that kept me in correspondence with Dr Heller and bought us medical texts that I always managed to read before Dr Hem got a hold of them. When I finally left Reliss three years later it was the Verity that carried me on the first leg of my journey.

“And then where?”

He shrugged once more. “I’ll find a ship that’s going to Bajor. There are lots of races that trade with the Cardassians still.”

I stopped looking at him because he wasn’t looking at me, he was staring off towards the wall opposite although I’m sure he was seeing something else. I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes again. “Ok.” I said. “So you get to Bajor, what then?”

“I join the resistance.” He said simply.

I didn’t reply.

“Do you think I’m foolish?”

Now I did reply. “Yes.”

“I thought you would.” He said. “You know I’ll only miss one thing from Reliss?”

He was looking at me now, with an intense look the kind of which I’d never seen in his eyes before. I laughed nervously. “You’ll miss Milip Ro’s cromare soup?” I suggested. I was trying to lighten the moment but my laughter was forced and broke apart like waves against rocks.

“I’ll miss you.” He said.

My stomach flipped as he said it. I had only begun to get an inkling that my sexuality might be somewhat different from everyone else on Reliss a few months earlier. While several of my other friends were making their first tentative approaches to the girls of our age I was strangely uninterested. At first I had thought it was because I was too busy with my studies. Soon however I realised it was because for some reason girls were simply not attractive to me. Still I had barely admitted the truth to myself at this point. Same sex relationships are not completely taboo in Bajoran life but they are still frowned upon, especially by some of the more orthodox religious orders.

Now as Jestin looked at me with a gaze that seemed to pierce my very soul I knew the truth, accepted the truth. I was in love with him, perhaps I always had been. First as a Brother but now as possibly something more.

I wanted to speak, to say something to break the terrible silence because I was sure he didn’t feel the same way. That he would miss me, but only as one brother misses another.

And then he leaned in close to me, so very close. Our lips mere millimetres apart. My heart was beating faster than I had ever felt it beat before and I genuinely feared that it might seize up at any moment. I was staring into his eyes, so close that they merged into one glorious grey jewel. I smelt his breath, knew that he had eaten Hasperat today. And then he travelled the last few millimetres and our lips brushed together. Gently at first and then firmer.

I don’t care who you are, what race, gender or sexuality you are, you always remember your first kiss and, in so many ways, no other kiss is ever as sweet.

But then suddenly things changed. What had begun as a romantic, almost chaste kiss turned into something altogether more animal. Suddenly Jestin had grabbed me firmly, his fingers digging into my shoulders as he bore down on me. The next thing I felt was a hand roughly working at loosening my belt.

Understand that is wasn’t that I was not attracted to him, was not that part of me at least did not want it to happen. But another part of me knew it was wrong. That my first time should at least have some semblance of being special. Not a rushed fumbling in a derelict house. And so I fought back, he had more muscle but my bigger frame afforded me advantage enough to push him off me. 

He fell back but sprang up into a predatory crouch. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes. Lustful but oh so sad, as if he had a desperate longing for something. “What’s wrong?” he said. “Scared you’ll like it too much.”

He was my best friend, the closest thing to a brother I had and I loved him. But when he spoke those words his mouth had twisted into a cruel smirk and he resembled the Jestin I knew as much as a Cardassian resembled a Bajoran.

I stumbled towards the exit, expecting him to come after me at any moment. But he just crouched there. My last glimpse of him was through tear stained eyes. The smirk still there but the look in his eyes suddenly the Jestin I knew, although haunted by something terrible. I would never see him again.

I scrambled out of the building and ran headlong into the Marshes, never once looking back as I ran for home. How I made it without stumbling into deep water I’ll never know…perhaps subconsciously I kept to the safe path. I was halfway home when I heard the scream. I recognised it as Jestin instantly. It was a horrible wail that sang out even as far as the settlement. A song of pain and suffering that was mercifully short. I could have turned back then, but something stopped me. Perhaps the same feeling that had made me run so hard away from Old Town. The preternatural feeling that Jestin and I were not alone out there.

When I had almost reached the settlement I ran headlong into a group of men despatched to investigate the scream. My Father was amongst them. He sent me home with another of the men before he and the others went on.

I sat in shocked silent at home for what seemed an eternity, with my Mother repeatedly asking me what had happened to no avail. Eventually my Father returned. A deathly glow upon his face. “Jestin is dead.” He said simply. That was why I began to cry once more.

He had been bludgeoned to death with a piece of masonry, his face shattered almost beyond recognition before he had been thrown face down into the marshes. There was a pall of fear hanging over the Settlement now that I had never felt before. Not even when a Cardassian warship had paused in orbit of our world when I was six years old. There had never been a murder on Reliss before now and suddenly friends and neighbours started to glance at each other with suspicious eyes. There were over a hundred people with no alibi for the time of Jestin’s death, and we had no real constable to investigate anyway. I at least was not a suspect. I ran into the posse too soon after the scream to have possibly been responsible. I was questioned about why I had left him and I said that we had had an argument. Nobody questioned that, not even my Father who had seen my belt hanging open.

Dr Hem offered to let me view the body, saying that it would be cathartic for me but I refused. The Jestin I knew was dead and gone. I regret not saying a final goodbye to him now. Thirteen years later when Elan died I wished I could have said goodbye to him. But all I received was a test-tube containing all the genetic material of my Husband that Starfleet had managed to recover. The Breen didn’t leave a lot behind.

But that was the future. Back on Reliss I didn’t want to see Jestin’s body. In fact it took all the cajoling of my Mother and the threats of my Father to attend his funeral.

The Bajoran Death chant lasts for two hours and, leaving traditional side, it is monotonous in the extreme. Before we chanted however people spoke about Jestin. His mother told a story of when he ran away at the age of four through choked tears, Dr Hem remembered a child who would not sit still, no matter how ill he was and my Father talked about Jestin’s maturity, and his friendship for me.

I said nothing.

The last person to speak was Vedek Lin. He was an old man, but still spry for his age and he worked in the marshes like everyone else. He was tall, strong looking with long white hair and beard and an air of confidence and faith that seemed unshakable. His voice was soft and yet powerful and his was the calming voice that had seen the community through many hardships.

“There is no safe place in this universe.” He said. “Those of us who remember Bajor know that best of all. Our time here has been peaceful until now. Until one of our own was brutally killed for seemingly no purpose. I knew Jestin well, he had worked with me for many years and I had seen him grow from a young boy into a person on the very edge of manhood. He will never cross that precipice now because someone on this world ended his life. I know that you all want justice. So do I. But I ask you, in this time of grief, not to turn upon each other with accusations and distrust. We are Bajoran’s, not animals, not Cardassians. Trust in your faith and know that the Prophets will punish the guilty.”

It’s hard to describe now with mere words how important that little speech was, how utterly powerful. It was more than what he said it was the way he said it. So full of passion and truth. We could not help but put our trust in him as we always had.

Slowly things returned to a semblance of normality. I harvested the Milda’Cro, I helped Dr Hem and I studied hard, re reading one of the medical texts that Dr Heller had sent innumerable times. As if by throwing myself into my studies I could forget Jestin. It was impossible because however busy I made myself I had to sleep, and in sleep he found me again as I replayed the events of his last day over and over. Eventually I began to put off going to sleep, striving to stay awake as long as possible.

My parents became naturally worried and referred me to Dr Hem. He was non committal and said that I would have to get past my demons alone, there was nothing that medicine could do. I knew differently of course, several of Dr Heller’s letters had made reference to ‘counsellors’. Doctors of the mind as it were. I had no such luxury on Reliss.

 And so I took to walking alone in the Marshes, despite my Father’s best efforts to stop me. Still I at least steered clear of Old Town. Until one day, six months after Jestin was killed.

It was raining- naturally- but it was light, little more than fine drizzle. I could have been helping Dr Hem but for once no one seemed ill. I hadn’t received any new texts from Dr Heller in weeks and could not face rereading again any of the ones I already had. There was no Milda’Cro to harvest as we were letting the marshes grow fallow for a few weeks. 

And so I walked, without urgently or purpose. Aware only that I was sticking to well known paths. My eyes stayed glued to the ground as I kicked my way through the water. It was the kind of thing I had done dozens of times since Jestin’s death and sometimes I’d find myself kilometres away before I turned around and returned home and always my walks took me nowhere near Old Town.

But not today. I looked up as I regularly did, just to check my bearings, and saw the grim outline of the ancient ruins up ahead. The last time I had been here it had been dry and bright but today it was grey and even if Jestin had not died here I would have felt a strange sense of foreboding at seeing those silent tombstones to a race long past.

I stopped walking and watched them for several minutes, as if expecting them to move if I dared to look away. I knew I should turn around and go home but something called to me, perhaps the fact that this was where Jestin died, perhaps my own sense of pride meant that I could not flee this place twice. Instead I clambered up out of the marsh and onto dry land. The air was silent as I wandered between the ruins. It was fortunate, I think, that I didn’t know where they had found Jestin, for I might have sat there for an age until I had cried my eyes out. Instead I sat in the building that we had sat in on that fateful day, leant up against the wall in the same place as I had then and I stared at the empty space next to me.

After a time I fell into a troubled, restless sleep and was awoken by the sound of voices. Nervously I crept to the doorway and looked out, fearful of who it might be as for the first time I considered that no one knew I was here.

I let out a quiet sigh of relief as I saw Vedek Lin walking towards the ruins, a small figure by his side. I almost cried out but something stopped me. There was something not quite right about the way he rested his hand on the smaller figures shoulder, almost as if he were pushing them along. And so I eased back into the shadows and continued to watch.

As they drew closer I recognised his companion, he was a boy of perhaps eleven years, Mett Yalow and I assumed that he had replaced Jestin as the Vedek’s assistant. A few moments later and I could actually hear that the old man was talking to him. “This was a place or worship.” He said. “Thousands of years before we ever came here.” He added and I wondered how he could possible know that?

“The false Gods that these savages worshipped were very much like the Prophets. They believed in love and honesty and righteousness. That’s why nothing we do here is wrong because this is a special place.”

They walked past the doorway now and a shadow was cast across me, chilling me to the bone. I feared they would come inside and find me but they kept walking. I waited for a minute until I was sure they had passed, Vedek Lin’s voice growing more distant with ever second, and then I crept out.

There was no sign of them. I swallowed hard, surprised to find that my throat was dry as I began to walk in the direction they had been heading. After a moment I saw a light coming from within one of the buildings that still boasted a roof. As I moved closer my panic stricken mind urged me, pleaded with me, to run home but I ignored it. I couldn’t run away, not this time.

Crouching by the entrance I nervously looked inside, ready to jerk my head back in an instant if anyone was looking my way. They were not. In fact all I could see was Yalow, stood sideways on as I saw him. All I could hear was Lin. “The Prophets chose me to be Vedek, knew that my love would be needed for the people of Reliss.” He said. “Knew that only I could teach the chosen ones, like you, the truth about love.” And then I saw hands reaching towards Yalow as he stood there, frozen in terror. The hands slowly, delicately, began to undo Yalow’s shirt. 

I pulled back, shaking with both fear and rage now at what I had seen. And suddenly everything came into focus. Jestin’s maturity, his time spent with the Vedek, his need to escape this world and his lust. I didn’t know what to do but I knew I had to do something. Had to try and spare the young boy in there the same fate as Jestin. Because now I was sure that Vedek Lin had killed him. But what could I do? I was tall but hardly a strong boy, and boy I still was. For all his years Lin was still a strong man, and obviously he had overpowered Jestin so what hope could I have?

I don’t even remember picking up the block of masonry but before I knew it I had hurled it across the plain so that it struck the far wall of another building with a dull thwack. The noise was low but in the silent air it carried and I hear Lin speaking again. “Who’s there?” he shouted.

I said nothing, instead I moved back, away from the door and around the corner so he would not see me if he exited. After a few seconds he repeated his question but there was still no sign of him leaving. I hefted another piece of masonry and readied myself to throw it. My only plan was to draw him out and hopefully grab Yalow and run for home before he noticed. It was a foolhardy plan but it was all I had.

But I didn’t have to throw the second missile. I heard the Vedek moving out onto the plain. His cries now more audible, no longer hemmed in by walls. I snatched a glance around the corner, he was there, his back to me, just a few metres away. I was still shaking and I feared he wouldn’t move away, because if he stayed where he was there was no way of grabbing Yalow. I could go for help but I knew what would happen to the young boy in the meantime and I couldn’t let that happen. I wondered if throwing the rock at another wall might distract him, but was fearful that it would only serve to draw him towards me.

And then, in an instant I still can’t explain, I was standing in clear space, my hiding place behind me as I stared at him. It seemed the most natural thing to throw the rock.

He had no idea it was coming, his shocked squeal when it struck his shoulder was proof of that. He turned, a look of rage on his face but I was not scared. My fear had gone, replaced only by rage and I flew at him, surprising him with my fury I knocked him to the ground and flailed at his face with my fists. He tried to fight back but I was too strong and all the while I screamed at him. Barely coherent words tumbling from my mouth. “Murderer! Murderer!” I just kept saying it over and over. My punches were wild, half of them not even connecting, but it was enough and soon this strong and powerful man was crying like a child, begging me to stop. But I wouldn’t. Knew I couldn’t. My only desire was to kill him, to bludgeon him as he had killed Jestin.

Jestin. At the thought of him I pictured him in my minds eye. A memory from a happier time. A smile that transcended his lips to his grey eyes. His freckles striking against pale skin as we tossed a ball around. It was a few months before he died and perhaps the first time that I had realised, however subconsciously, that I loved him. The transition was swift as an aura of peace settled over me, my rage flying away like a flock of birds. I stopped hitting him and stood up, in a daze I looked at my hands, bruised and bloodied, as if they were someone else’s. For in my rage I had felt like another person, not myself. I looked around me as the sky darkened. Old Town had never seemed so Alien and my spine tingled with fear of something I could not see, only sense. A terrible ancient thing.

Vedek Lin was still crying, hunched up into a ball where he lay, whimpering softly to himself. If I listened closely I could hear the same phrase over and over. “Couldn’t let you have him, couldn’t let you have him.”

I left him there and entered the building where Yalow remained. He was fearful at first, until I handed him his discarded shirt and told him I was taking him home. Then he took my hand and silently let me lead him out of the building.

I felt his hand tremble as he saw Vedek Lin lying there but I told him there was nothing to fear from this broken man anymore.    

The walk home took and age but eventually I brought Yalow to the house of my parents. Leaving him with my mother I told my Father everything that had happened that day, everything I had seen. As I told the story it seemed ever more unbelievable but my Father did not doubt a single word.

It was too dark to go out that night but early the next day my Father and a posse of stout men set forth towards Old Town and I went too, stubbornly insisting that it was my right.

We found little trace of Vedek Lin. His bag and a lantern were still inside the building but that was it. As the men searched every centimetre of the place I walked to the edge of the Marsh, towards an area I knew as dangerous; deep, black and unforgiving water. I vaguely heard some of the men saying that Vedek Lin had most likely headed south, where a few hardy souls had made farmsteads on isolated outcroppings. I heard my Father say that they would follow him another day, he couldn’t hide forever.

But I knew he could. Because I knew he was below me, lost for eternity in the dark water that I now gazed into. That he had killed himself for what he had done to Jestin, for what he had planned to do to Yalow.

As I stood there I unclipped my earring and, with one solemn flick of my wrist, I despatched it into the water. For a moment the calm surface of the water was disturbed, circles echoing out from the impact point, but after a few seconds it was still again, as if nothing had touched it for thousands of years. I knew that Lin was just a man, fallible as the rest of us, but I wondered about the Prophets. Vedeks were the chosen of our Gods and that they would choose a man like him meant one of two things. Either they were not all knowing and had not foreseen his evil, or they had not cared, or worse, specifically chosen him anyway. Either way I stopped believing in them on that day.

They never did find Vedek Lin of course. Yalow told everyone that someone else had been in the building with him on that day, someone he couldn’t see. Everyone laughed and said it was shock. But no one ever went to Old Town again. Not ever. 

Old town still stands of course. Lonely and ancient. And it waits…it waits. And sometimes I still wonder how Vedek Lin had known that it had once been a place of worship?

ACT 5.

Bren looked at them, his comrades as they looked at him. They were all pale and even though he had clearly finished his tale no one spoke. When a flash of lightening flared in the sky K’Thell jumped in her seat and squealed.

That broke the spell and they all laughed, even Bren, although their laughter was nervous, hollow.

“Thanks, doc.” Said K’Thell. “I don’t think I’ll sleep well tonight.”

“Sorry.” Said Bren. “But he asked the question.”

Devonshire smiled. “And this was the perfect place to tell such a tale.”

“I still think I prefer my story.” Said Gerrex.

“We’d better go collect the ore.” Said Devonshire as he moved over to the nearby console. “The drill’s all finished.

The other three looked at one another, looked at the confines of the runabout and then looked at the dead world outside. It was Gerrex who verbalised what they were all thinking. “Let’s all go.” He said.

There were no arguments.

Vesta erupted out of the Nebula like a burst pimple, her guns blazing as she sped towards where the three Mutuality ships waited.

The three Prowlers knew they had Vesta outgunned, just as they knew they could outrun her. Vesta had other ideas however. She raced forward and between the ships. Her phasers and quantum torpedoes focused on the weakest of the trio. As she flashed by her aft tube threw one last torpedo at her chosen target and it was enough to fracture the ship’s shields, letting Vesta’s aft phaser fire shatter the ship into a million pieces. 

“Target destroyed.” Said Lawson. “The other two are not pursuing.”

“Of course.” Said Ishikawa. “They know they can’t take us with just two ships.”

“Do they have reinforcements coming?” asked Hernandez.

Lawson nodded. “Yes, looks like another three ships on long range scanners. ETA fifteen minutes.”

“They’ll be too late to stop us.” Said Hernandez. “Ensign, set a course back to the planet, Warp seven.”

“Aye, Sir.” Said Smallbone, punching a new set of coordinates into the navigation computer. And with that the New Orleans class ship spun away from her former pursuers and darted off into the void.

Hernandez and Ishikawa were waiting in the shuttle bay when the Gagarin returned. They stood to one side as the runabout softly landed before walking to the main airlock to greet their colleagues, their friends.

 Devonshire came out first, a small cylindrical container carried in his right hand. Bren was next and then Gerrex. K’Thell was last of all.

“Successful trip?” asked the Captain.

Devonshire hefted the container. “Oh yes, here you go, Commander.” He said passing it towards Ishikawa. “Enough Leothrite for two cloaking devices.”

Ishikawa was about to take the container when a blue/green hand rested on his. “Oh no, Mister.” Said K’Thell. “That can wait until tomorrow.” She looked at Hernandez. “Permission to retire to bed, Captain.”

Hernandez smiled. “Granted.”

“But, Captain, I really should get started processing the ore….” Started Ishikawa.

Hernandez shook her head. “Not tonight, Commander. It’s been a long day and I think we could all use some downtime.”

Ishikawa looked at the container, then he looked at K’Thell’s smile. “As you say, Captain. Some downtime.” He said and took K’Thell’s hand, leading her towards the door.

Hernandez took the container from Devonshire and laid it on the floor. “This will still be here tomorrow.” She said. “Now, dismissed.”

And the three remaining members of the away team began to trudge towards the door. “Sen?” Hernandez said and he stopped and turned back, even as Bren and Devonshire and made it through the door.

“Yeah?” he asked.

Hernandez smiled. “I was heading back to my cabin, fancy joining me for a nightcap?”    

Gerrex frowned. Their little affair seemed to have cooled lately and he couldn’t quite remember the last night they had spent together. “Me?” he asked.

“Yes, you. Who the hell else?” she said.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose I’d noticed you and Counsellor Dayle spending a lot more time together lately and I figured…”

“You figured wrong.” Said Hernandez. She walked up to him. “I love Dayle but now he...I mean she is a girl I have no interest in anything beyond a platonic friendship.”

“Ah, I see. Whereas I’m there for the less than platonic friendship?” he said with a grin.

“Exactly.” Said Hernandez. “I only keep you around for the dirty stuff.” She began to head off.

Gerrex followed, smiling wistfully to himself as he wondered, for the thousandth time, what exactly it was about girls with pointed ears that fascinated him so much? 

Half a deck away Bren and Devonshire walked side by side. “So, Doctor, do you fancy dinner on the Titanic? A drink in the backyard?”

Bren shook his head. “No, thanks anyway. I figured I might go and draft a letter to Robert. I know he may never get them but it makes me feel better.”

Devonshire nodded. “Talking about Jestin made you think of him, right?”

“Yes. And more. You know I never told anyone that story before. Not even Elan. I think it’s only fair that I tell Robert.”

They had stopped by a turbolift shaft now. As the doors opened Devonshire  shook Bren’s outstretched hand. “See you tomorrow Doctor.” He said before Bren disappeared into the turbolift.

Now Devonshire was alone he felt the weight of the world on him. For a time down there he had been afraid that K’Thell might ask the wrong kind of question. But no, his secret was still safe.

As he walked he considered that this was a ship full of secrets now. Of course some were more secret that others. His own for example, or the mysterious cargo on deck 19 that only Hernandez knew the full facts about. Others were not quite as hidden as people might like to think. Gerrex and Hernandez for example. Or Ramplin and  John Walbert.

Relationships were all well and good but it seemed that everyone on board was distracted by the opposite- or in some cases the same- sex at the moment. Devonshire hoped that the distraction wouldn’t prove disastrous. There were dangerous times ahead, and uncomfortable choices might have to be made, however loath Hernandez might be to make them. As he reached his room Devonshire hoped he wouldn’t have to make them for her.