Captain's log, supplemental. We have successfully prevented the Klingons from taking the Starfleet science outpost on Kinet IV and rescued its staff, including our new Chief Science Officer, Lieutenant Margaret Matoya. However, this matter is not yet finished and I still have a number of unanswered questions, which are all curiously connected to her.

The doors to the captain's ready room slid open for Matoya as she entered. Oren-De looked up from the computer display he had been reading.

"Ah, Lieutenant Matoya. First, let me welcome to the Pandora."

Matoya gave Oren-De as small grin. "Thank you, sir. I look forward to serving with your crew. From that battle down there, I'd say they are very capable."

Oren-De simply nodded, then began to study her closely. His gaze was completely uninhibited, and it produced a slightly surprised look from Matoya. Finally, Oren-De spoke again.

"I received a curious communique from Starfleet Intelligence. Apparently, in addition to now serving as my Chief Science Officer, you are also here on an investigation of your own. However, the communique failed to go into any detail about what this investigation entails. Please, inform me."

Matoya nodded. He gets right to the heart of the matter. Not surprising given his record.

"Of course, sir. I am here to interview your crew with regard to the recent attack by the Borg on the Vega colony. This would be the attack that ultimately led you to taking command of this vessel. Starfleet Intelligence, after reviewing reports of the incursion, is curious as to why these Borg behaved so differently from those we have previously encountered, and if this represents a change inside the Collective. To that end, I am to interview those members of your crew that encountered the Borg during that attack and evaluate any data I obtain. This is in line with my duties as a specialist on the Borg."

Oren-De nodded. From the portion of Matoya's record that had only been opened to him and not the rest of the crew, he had gathered as much about her role within Starfleet. It was precisely this role which had raised questions in his mind.

"Assigning a Starfleet Intelligence specialist on the Borg to my ship. This is enlightening as to the role Starfleet has settled on for the Pandora."

Matoya nodded again. "Yes, sir. Given the sensitive nature of my assignment, Starfleet wanted to wait until you had picked me up from Kinet IV before informing you. I expect you will be receiving a transmission from the admiralty at any moment alerting you to that fact."

"Indeed. Additionally, the commnique mentioned something about your current 'research project', but again, failed to go into any details."

"During the attack on the Vega colony, a Starfleet engineering officer utilized a computer virus that proved itself capable of disabling Borg drones and cutting them off from the Collective while causing minimal physical and nuerological damage. The issue is currently tied up in Starfleet JAG but Intelligence has acquired a copy of the program. I have been asked to study this... program's... method of action, as well as the likelihood of the Collective adapting to it. I'll be working with your Chief Medical Officer as well to go over the data obtained from Starfleet Medical dealing with the Borg who were exposed. Only he, you, and I are to know of this program's existence."

Oren-De took in this new information with some surprise. He had no idea that such a tool existed, and its implications for confrontations with the Borg were undeniable, provided that they were not able to adapt. However, it was then that something clicked in his head.

"You communicated the Klingon attack to Starfleet Intelligence, didn't you?"

Now it was Matoya's turn to be surprised. After a moment though, she simply smiled and nodded. "Yes, sir. May I ask how you knew? Those communications were heavily encrypted and deleted as soon as they were made."

"The fact that no additional Birds of Prey appeared after the initial two were defeated. That is highly unusual for a Klingon attack force, especially if the nearby nebula were, in fact, acting as a staging ground for raids, as Ensign Lacera reported to me. My guess is that Intelligence had a number of ships move into the nebula following our arrival and remove the rest of the Klingon threat there."

"Yes sir, that's correct. You should also know that the nebula wasn't a staging ground for raids, as we initially thought. Klingons had stepped up activity in the nebula, though it was all to prepare for an attack on just our outpost. There was no evidence of any infrastructure indicative of a permanent staging ground. Intelligence had deduced that the Klingon Empire wanted something from the outpost, and it is most likely the Borg cure that I was sent. After all, the Empire has had its own share of problems with the Borg, and it is also believed that, given the Klingon's tendencies toward conversion and subjugation of their enemies, that they might try to alter the virus so that any infected Borg are under their control. However, the program has been kept under tight scrutiny, and Intelligence is at a loss for how the Klingons might have found out about it and that the outpost had a copy."

Another silence permeated the room as Oren-De let that revelation sink in. Not only was it a frightening proposition, but it also shed more light on the role Starfleet intended for the Pandora. It seemed that run-ins with the Klingons, as well as the Borg, were to be expected.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Matoya. You may return to your post."

Matoya nodded and left the ready room. After only a minute, a chime announced that a new visitor had arrived.

"Come in," he simply said, allowing the doors to open for Ensign Lacera. The officer entered and looked at the Enhasan from behind his visor. As he had with Matoya, Oren-De studied him intensely for a moment. Lacera, unlike Matoya, became more uneasy more quickly.

"You... wanted to see me, Commander?"

"Yes. I was very impressed with your performance on the ground during the rescue operation. Additionally, I was reviewing your record and I was surprised to find that you're also a pilot."

Will nodded and grinned despite himself. "Yes, sir. I was part of the Nova Squadron back at the Academy."

"So I read. That being the case, why are you part of a security team on a science outpost? I don't mean to offend your ground combat abilities, but it seems your primary role lies at the helm of a starship."

Will shifted a little and a frown crossed his face. "From my record, you'll know that I was at the helm of the USS Argonaut after I graduated from the Academy. However, shortly after my assignment began, the ship was attacked and subsequently boarded by the Klingons. They even managed to make it onto the bridge, where a War Targ did this to me." He motioned to scars that cross the middle of his face, extending above and below his visor. "The damage was too severe for ocular implants to give me normal vision again. Instead, I have to use this false-color visor which transmits visual data directly to my brain and bypasses my damaged ocular nervous system."

"Again, so I read. However, I also read that, despite this injury and subsequent reassignment to the Kinet IV outpost, you still log an impressive amount of time in flight simulators and shuttles. I also observe no change in your flight record from before or after the incident."

Will nodded, his grin returning hesitantly. "Yes, sir. I've requested a number of helmsman positions, but none of the captains seemed to get past the fact that I'm not flying with 'normal' vision."

"Well, I am not looking for normal, I am looking for exceptional. I want someone who is most capable of filling a role and I do not really care how they do it. That being the case, I have made, and been granted, a request to have you transfered to the Pandora. I qm assigning you to the helm and you will report first thing tomorrow at 0800 hours."

Oren-De had never seen someone's face light up the way Will's did at that moment. The ensign looked like he was going to hug the Enhasan for a moment then, thankfully, thought better and somehow restrained himself to just a simple nod and thank-you. Oren-De dismissed the overjoyed pilot just in time to receive a transmission from Earth Spacedock.

"Admiral Quinn. How may I help you today?"

In the Pandora's medical bay, Redwing was rushing around attempting to gather and fabricate enough supplies to help care for the wounded that was expected from the outpost. He had been told to expect survivors as the away team proceeded through the outpost, but so far none had been beamed aboard. He wasn't sure whether to feel relief or dread. Thankfully, his inability to settle on an emotion allowed him to continue with the task at hand, free of distraction, until War'en's voice sounded over the comm.

"Medical, the team has just breached the area where most of the outpost's captive staff are being held. I imagine you'll be seeing your first causalities in a few minutes."

Redwing stopped and looked around with frustration at the empty medical bay.

"Wa-- I mean, Mr. Lok, I don't have any staff down here! Can you please order any personnel that know how to hold a hypospray to get down here?"

"We're operating on a skeleton crew as it is, but I'll see what I can do. In the mean time, I advise taking advantage of the EMH."

Redwing closed his eyes and forced himself not to curse into the comm system. After a moment, he opened them again and kept his voice polite. "Acknowledged, Lieutenant Commander Lok. Medical out," he responded, using the formal address to express his displeasure. Once the comm system was off, he took advantage of the fact he was alone in the medical bay.

"Fucking hell! He seriously expects me to use that... thing!? It's nothing but a medical textpadd with an arrogant personality and nasty bedside manner!"

He ran his hands through his hair and tried to think of another option, but to his dismay there didn't seem to be another available. War'en was right that they were operating on a skeleton crew, and if the Klingons showed up again they'd be needed at their stations. Redwing let out a sigh and gave in.

"Computer, activate Emergency Medical Holographic program."

In the center of the medical bay, a hologram shimmered into being. It looked like a middle-aged human male, with shock black hair and thick eyebrows. "Please state the nature of the medical emerg--"

"Gah! Not him! Change its appearance, now!"

"Please specify desired appearance," the computer chirped back.

"I don't care! Pick another preset, at random if you have to!"

The hologram disappeared briefly before reappearing as a Human woman with black hair and Asian features. "Please state the nature of the medical emergency."

"We are expecting a large number of wounded from an outpost on the surface of the planet we're orbiting. You are to assist me with triage and stabilization as they arrive. Until then, you can help by preparing batches of the standard emergency care hypos."

"Acknowledged," the EMH responded, before moving over to one of the replicators to start its tasks. Redwing watched her begin, before resuming his own preparations and cursing under his breath again, this time in Navajo. "Figures he would be the first image preset for the EMH..."

Down on the surface, the away team was in the thick of a firefight with the Klingon intruders. Dealing with the doors to the Ops section had been simple, as Will had the necessary access codes and the Klingons had apparently failed to penetrate the computer system enough to even change them. Once the doors had opened, the ensemble Starfleet team had opened fire on the Klingons, taking a number of them down immediately. However, there had still been several groups left within the room, and those remaining in the other parts of the outpost were now rushing to join their comrades. The result was the away team taking cover in various parts of the room, exchanging fire with the Klingons and slowly whittling away at their numbers.

Shrel had taken cover behind a console that was now damaged beyond all hope of repair. He was alone, but he had maneuvered himself to the closest covered position to the group of captives, which were huddled in a group at the corner of the room. There were still two Klingons guarding them. Shrel was trading fire with them and not making much progress. However, while popping up briefly to fire another round, Shrel noticed that a black-haired woman in a blue Starfleet uniform had separated from the group of captives and was inching closer to the pair of Klingons from behind. Shrel ducked back down and waited for the disrupter fire to arc over head. As he popped back up, he heard one of the Klingons give a pained howl. The Klingon was now holding the back of his head and the woman was holding a very large metal tube, which she had brought down hard on the back of the Klingon's head. With the two distracted, Shrel quickly dispatched them with an auto-targeted phaser spread. The woman flashed a grin to Shrel before picking up both of the Klingon's disruptor pistols and turning to the group of captives.

"Alright everyone, we're getting out of here. Just stay calm." She then turned back to Shrel. "Hey, red shirt! Get over here and beam these people to your ship!"

Shrel was a bit taken aback by the woman's order. Not only was he not expecting for one of the captives to take charge, but the 'red shirt' comment wasn't exactly something he enjoyed hearing. There was time for that later though, and the woman did have a point. Shrel checked the situation around him and quickly moved to the captives.

"Shrel to Pandora. Beam out all of the life signs in my immediate vicinity, except for me."

The woman shot him a surprised look. "Pandora? I'm Lieutenant Margaret Matoya. Tell the transporter to leave me here with you. I'm joining your crew after all, so I might as well stick around to help you."

Shrel looked at the woman in surprise. He hadn't ever met a science officer that was so eager to get into a firefight. However, remembering his orders, he simply shook his head.

"No. My orders are to evacuate all outpost personnel and that includes you. Pandora, beam out now."

Matoya opened her mouth to protest just as blue transporter light engulfed her and the rest of the captives around her. Shrel allowed himself a small smirk before looking around for the rest of his team. They were scattered around, but the Klingons in the room seem to have been eliminated. However, the rest that had been stationed in other parts of the outpost were now attempting to fight their way in through the door, reversing the roles of the fight. Oren-De was positioned on one of the walkways above, picking off Klingons as they attempted to enter the room. He had to admit, the Enhasan's aim and tactical sense were impressive.

Suddenly, one of the Klingons managed to make it through the door and rushed the closest Starfleet officer he could find, his bat'leth out and ready. Shrel fired at the Klingon, but his shields deflected the hit. The officer, who Shrel recognized as Will, suddenly tossed his phaser rifle away and rolled to the side to dodge the attack. As he came out of the roll, Will pulled out something that was attached to the utility belt he wore. As he brought his hand up, the object suddenly extended into a long, metal sword. Shrel recognized the weapon from one of his ground combat classes at the Academy; a katana. Will grasped the weapon with both hands and proceeded to fend off the Klingon's bat'leth strikes. Frustrated, the Klingon made a sloppy slice, which Will deftly dodged and responded to by impaling him. The Klingon made a surprised and sick gurgle sound before Will withdrew the weapon, now coated in pink blood. The Klingon fell forward as Will stepped to the side and turned to another Klingon that was making a rush towards him. This time though, the Klingon was unshielded and fell to Shrel's phaser rifle before he could even make it five steps in.

"All clear, sir!" shouted one of the outpost's security personnel. Will nodded and looked up toward Oren-De's position. "Orders, sir?"

Oren-De stood and surveyed the room. There seemed to be only minor injuries among his team and that of the outpost, which brought a smile to his face. Their units had functioned well together and it brought him a great amount of satisfaction to see such a result.

"Those who are not wounded, divide into teams and spread out. Search for survivors and beam them to the Pandora for treatment."

Shrel and Will acknowledged the order and began dividing their respective units. Oren-De grinned at the organization and tapped his badge. "Pandora, one to beam up."

Edgar spent almost an hour discussing the resulting trauma with Admiral Quinn, who was now ordering the New Orleans to return to Earth Spacedock immediately. As his transmission ended, the captain of the Azura entered. “How are you feeling?”

“A bit shaken up, but happy to be alive. Thank you captain; for saving myself and crew.”

Edgar smiled. “All in the day’s work of a Starfleet officer. We’re heading back to Earth Spacedock. I’m sure Admiral Quinn will want to speak to you about what you experienced.”

Captain Brott sighed as she sat down. “I understand, Captain.”

“Can you tell me why the Orions attacked?”

Brott shook her head. “I can only assume they thought us easy prey. When we dropped out of warp it was like they new we would be there.”

“We should be back at Earth in an hour. My condolences to your lost crew and ship...” Edgar said as he extended a hand to the captain.

“Thank you Captain. Don’t fret about me too much; I should have enough saved up to buy a new cargo ship soon. Then I can get back on my feet and back to shipping.”

Captain Brott exited casually and returned to her quarters. In his ready room, Edgar made one final call prior to the arrival at spacedock, “Captain Calvin to Ambassador Sokketh.”

“What do you want Lieutenant?” Sokketh inquired.

“I regret to inform you we have to return to Earth Spacedock, per Admiral Quinn’s orders. I’m terribly sorry for—”

“Do not apologize.” Sokketh said before disconnecting the intercom in his quarters.

“Well I’ve totally messed that up, haven’t I?” Edgar said to himself.

“Unable to process inquiry; please restate,” Edgar let out a groan at the computer’s commentary.

Captain’s Log, Supplemental: The New Orleans has arrived at Earth Spacedock and the survivors of the Azura have disembarked. Sokketh was given leave while the ship is under emergency repairs which should resolved within a day’s effort. So far the only notable event since we’ve docked has been the arrival of Aron-Mu, the Enhasan Chief of Engineering. I anticipate his arrival will finally expedite the repairs to a much needed level. I hear that Enhasans are...difficult...to cooperate with; I anticipate we’ll get along immediately or we’ll always be at odds.

Edgar and the remaining officers walked onto the bridge moments later “Damage report.”

“Sir, three more Orion Frigates have appeared and the disabled frigate is fighting again as well.” Summer reported as she began scanning for tactical weaknesses in the ships.

“Here we go again... Evasive maneuvers!” Crewman Troi followed through and spun the ship to face the frigates as fast as possible. “Crewman Guyton, target the lead ship: fire all phasers.”

Summer launched a number of beams at the frigate, but the shields held strong. “Sir, we’re being hailed by the lead Orion ship. They’re asking for us to surrender.”

“Ignore it. Prepare a tachyon beam and fire it on the lead ship. How soon until the Azura’s warp core suffers meltdown?”

“Less than a minute, sir.”

“Crewman Guyton, try and get the frigates to chase us...drop the aft shields.”

“Sir, if we do that then we could expose the hull to a devastating hit.”

“Just try to make it ‘look’ like they’re down.” Edgar encouraged. “Crewman Troi, bring us close to the Azura, travel across her bow.”

“Aye Sir,” Edgar waited for the right moment. Solek watched him with a curiosity that almost bordered concern. Finally, Edgar heard from transporter ops that they had the captain. “Excellent. Evasive maneuvers; pull away from the Azura!”

“Sir, the Azura has entered a warp core breach.” Edgar said nothing as he watched the cargo ship explode, cascading to the three frigates that had followed him too closely.

“Inform him the remaining ship to get out of federation space now or to surrender and prepare to be boarded.” Edgar stated as he moved to sit back down.

“You will not win this dispute, Starfleet!” An Orion woman announced as she was brought onscreen.

“So you’re prepared to be boarded then? If you do not comply I will open fire.”

“You will not catch us, Starfleet. Your ship is damaged, and we will fight another day!” The Orion female goaded as her frigate launched into warp away from the system. Edgar sighed as he moved to his ready room.

“Get Admiral Quinn on subspace, and have the captain of the Azura meet me in my ready room when she’s mended. Solek, you have the bridge.”

Edgar looked around and lowered his weapon. “Do what he says; no sense in dying for a lost cause.”

Solek and the crewmen lowered their weapons, leaving the Orions in control. “Move away from there.”

Edgar nodded and encouraged his team to move away, where Desmond inched closer to a console. Edgar watched him carefully from the corner of his eye, staying fixed on the lead Orion, now moving closer. “Your ship, captain; tell her to lower her shields.”

“What’s in it for me if I do?”

“Oh, I’ve given you no incentive, nor is there one to provide. You will simply do this for me.” The Orion seethed.

“That sounds fairly illogical. The moment that they hear me order the shields down, they’ll know I’m captured. Even if they do as I command, the internal security measures would be activated and cause massive casualties to your crew if they dare try to board her.”

“You’re bluffing. Federation ships don’t have such a feature.”

“Says who? How do you know the measures weren’t created and refitted to my ship? You only have my word that they exist; just like your word telling me what to do.” Edgar was bluffing, and didn’t care if he was caught. He had given Desmond enough time to reverse all of the bypasses Edgar had fabricated, launching an intense blast of plasma into the hallways. Edgar dropped to the ground, grabbed his pistol and fired a blast at the remaining Orion, disintegrating him. “Well that was messy. Dez, can you kill that reversal?”

“Already working on it, sir.” Almost instantly at his statement the plasma was drawn out of the hallways providing an escape path back to the extraction point. “Captain, let’s go!”

“Come with us, your ship won’t survive another five minutes.” Edgar said to the captain of the Azura. She shook her head.

“If I can get her to survive another six, I’ll save that many more lives. Go.” She said, pushing Edgar out of engineering. The surviving crew followed the Team from the New Orleans to the cargo bay. Some died along the way as plasma seals failed and vented the material into the hallway.

“Calvin to New Orleans get as many of us as you can at a time!” He ordered, finishing his sentence breaths before the transporter beamed the crew out of the hold, along with a handful of survivors shortly after. As he rematerialized on the other side, he looked at the transporter operator. “What life signs can you detect on the Azura?”

“Maybe one or two, the majority came over in the transport beam with you, sir.”

“Can you tell if any of them are the captain?”

“No sir, I can’t get a lock on any of the life signs.” The ship rocked in space as the inertial dampeners and attitude control put her back in the previous orientation. “Keep trying and inform me the second you have them.”

“What life signs do you detect on her?”

“External sensors were damaged with the blast to our stern, I can only tell you where they are, but not how many or of what type.” The crewman at tactical responded.

“Calivn to Engineering – Is there anyone down there that is well versed in repairing plasma leaks?”

“This is Crewman Getty – no sir, everyone in engineering is on their internship. We’ve not dealt with that technology before on an older vessel.” Edgar looked around at the bridge crew that stared back at him.

“Continue work on repairs. More Orion ships may be out of sensor range waiting to pounce...Well then...tactical, helm, Mr. Solek...follow me to transporter 1. Hopefully we’ll be enough.” Edgar commented as he walked to the turbolift. The staff followed him onto the turbolift and waited for the doors to open near the transporter room. Edgar turned to both of the tactical officers. “What are your names again?”

“Crewman Summer Guyton, sir.”

“Crewman Desmond Troi...sir.”

“Troi? Like, Deanna Troi?” Edgar pressed. “You’re a Betazoid.”

“Yes sir, and yes sir. She’s my mother’s cousin.” Desmond looked up at him

“Why are you just a crewman, then?” Edgar pressed, Summer glanced between them nervously. “Why aren’t you ensign?”

“Um sir? I...I still have a year left at the academy...” Desmond commented feeling Summer’s own nerves mixed with the overwhelming imposition from Edgar was almost overwhelming. Edgar smiled, and the shift threw Desmond just as strongly. “Sir?”

“Crewman Guyton, do you also have a year left at the academy?”

“Yes, sir.” Summer said a bit eagerly. Desmond wanted to hang his head in shame for her. Edgar’s eyes shifted between the two crewmen and caught a glimpse of a raised eyebrow from Solek.

“Captain, I do not recommend you board the Azura.”

“Mr. Solek, we’re short-staffed on able engineers. Do you know how to resolve a plasma leak?”

“No sir.”

“Then I request you not quote regulation to me at this time.”

“Understood, Sir,” Solek retreated slightly. Dez could sense Solek felt he offended the captain deeply, but chose to say nothing. Edgar looked between the two crewmen.

“The two of you have done a superb job given the circumstances. I want both of you to take the bridge officer training as soon as possible. Thank you both for staying cool during that battle. You two ready for this?”

The two crewmen nodded, unsure how to take their new captain and their first assignment. Edgar continued to lead the team to the transporter room. The four stood on the platform waiting for Edgar to command transport. When he promptly stated the typical ‘Energize,’ the away team soon stood in a small cargo hold on the Azura. As Ops had indicated, the ship was leaking plasma radiation everywhere. “Damn this is worse than I thought. Inoculate yourselves, quickly.”

Edgar proceeded to take point, keeping his phaser pistol charged and ready. “Sir I’m detecting a plasma leak a few meters ahead. I recommend we proceed with caution.”

“Thank you crewman, your concern is noted.” Edgar commented to Summer as he continued forward with caution. He turned a corner and found a console to override the plasma leak. “Crewmen take a look here. See what I’m doing?”

“Aye sir.” Desmond responded.

“You may need to know how to do this one day...could save a lot of lives.”

“Captain, I’m not sure this is the appropriate time for a lesson.” Solek commented, looking past the plasma fire.

“What do you see?”

“Orions, sir. They’ve boarded the ship.”

Edgar swore. “Is there a way around them?”

“Not at present. They are also suffering from the radiation, and may be easy to overtake.”

“Solek, I hope you’re right. Ready?”

The away team nodded as Edgar fired a carefully aimed shot at one of the Orions. The blast was indeed unexpected and knocked the Orion to the ground. The other two Orion males charged only to be met with slew of phaser blasts from the four officers. Solek scanned the area. “It appears they were the only intruders.”

“Good. Let’s get to engineering.” After a few more plasma leaks were sealed, the access doors to Engineering opened revealing the captain and a few surviving engineers. “Captain Brott?”

“At last! Help has arrived!”

“What’s the situation?”

“The warp core is on the verge of meltdown. When we dropped our shields to take it offline...the Orions attacked. We tried to keep the shields active but the core is failing.”

“New Orleans to Calvin, come in please.”

“What is it crewman?”

“Captain, more Orion ships have entered the system and are attempting to board the Azura. We have a minimal window for transport, but you’re in an area that’s flooded with plasma radiation and we can’t get a lock.”

Edgar’s eyes darted around the room, trying to decide the right course of action. The captain of the Azura spoke for him. “Go. Get what crew of mine you can to your ship. I’ll stay behind and attempt to delay the breach as long as possible.”

“You’re a brave woman. You heard the lady let’s go!”

“Not so fast, starfleet!” Edgar and Solek spun around to see a group of five Orions armed and aimed at them. “You’re going to surrender yourself, your crew, and your cargo to us right now.”

Solek darted forward to check the captain with a medical tricorder, but Edgar brushed him away. “Helmsman...”

He nodded. “I’m fine, sir.” Edgar looked a bit puzzled but just nodded his head.

“Good. What’s our damage report?”

“Direct hit to our stern. Warp drive is offline, impulse at fifty percent. Weapons and holding. Aft shields are down to twenty percent.”

“Let’s get the aft shields up at least fifty percent; helm, continue to come about. Tactical, target the flanking frigate and open fire at will.”

“Firing phasers.” The blonde woman at the tactical station stated as she launched a number of phaser blasts at the port side of the starboard flanking frigate. The blast was enough to take the shields down on that side, and a high yield torpedo spread decimated the ship.

“Excellent shot, crewman...two more to go.”

“Sir, the lead frigate’s shields are down and in range.”

“Fire what you can, crewman.” The young woman at tactical fired the one torpedo that was ready and the view screen tracked the torpedo as it impacted on the lead ship. The explosion destroyed the attitude control. “Disable them.”

Another blast from the phaser array set the frigate adrift, leaving the final frigate to the New Orleans. The frigate was now crossing her path, and Edgar once again called for the tachyon beam and the phaser blasts. Within seconds the frigate’s starboard shields had dropped allowing for a high yield torpedo spread to finalize its destruction. “Fire a singular warning shot on the disabled vessel, and jam her communications. Hail the Azura.”

“This is Captain Calvin of the Federation starship New Orleans to command Azura. Is everything all right?”

“This is Captain Brott of the Azura. Thanks for coming to our aid! We’re suffering plasma and radiation leaks across engineering. Can you help us?”

“We’ll send a team over in moments. Stand by.” Edgar stated as the transmission ended.

Edgar sat a few moments at his desk before returning to the bridge. As he sat down, Solek looked at Edgar watching what he was about to do. Edgar sat, watching the stars stream by on the view screen, then he turned to Solek with a suspicious grin on his face. “Admiral Quinn advised that we should still ensure the security of Ambassador Sokketh while we aid the Azura...”

Solek examined Edgar’s facial expressions carefully. “Captain... what are you thinking?”

“Well I would feel deeply incompetent if it was due to a lack of security measures that caused a Federation ambassador to be harmed during an attempt to aid a simple cargo ship...”

Solek caught onto what Edgar was implicating, “It would be a shame if such an accident were to occur. Perhaps we should increase his security detail.”

“What an excellent idea, Solek! Security place extra guards at the ambassador’s quarters, make sure he doesn’t leave for his protection.” Edgar was almost laughing at the command. Solek almost smiled himself; definitely feeling pleased with how his commanding officer handled the situation. Within the hour, the ship had reached the Azura, clearly being attacked by Orions. “Red Alert! All hands: battle stations. Helm come about on the lead ship let’s take some fire off of the Azura. Tactical Analasys”

“Three Orion vessels are attacking the Azura. The Orions have full shields and weapons capability, but the Azura’s shields are down and have lost propulsion. She’s dead in the water.”

“She’ll be a lot more dead than just in the water if we don’t get them off her back; full torpedo spread I want all of them firing at us.”

“Aye sir.” The blonde at tactical responded. Tactical sent phaser beams to all three ships, focusing once again on the lead ship. The Orions flanked the New Orleans as the lead ship stared her in the nose. “Tachyon beam, Mr. Solek! All beams and high torpedo yield: Fire!”

The tachyon beam impacted the fore shields and the phaser beams dropped them, exposing the hull for the photons to make direct hits, hitting major subsystems. “Evasive maneuvers; let’s come about and do that again.”

The New Orleans spun around and began chasing the lead ship this time. The once flanking Orion ships were desperately trying to face the federation ship. “How soon until we can fire another tachyon beam?”

“Two minutes, Captain, the emitter almost overloaded on that last shot.” Solek replied, managing a console.

“Fire phasers, let’s take down their aft shields if we can.” Tactical followed orders well and hit multiple points on the shields, wearing them thin. Without warning the ship lurched forward, launching Edgar into the helmsman. Most of the bridge crew was thrown around their stations, some completely out of their seats. “Is everyone OK?”

It was within five minutes Ambassador Sokketh appeared at the bridge and demanded a word with Edgar. The two entered the ready room calmly and almost instantly Sokketh began throwing attacks at the captain. “I demand that you ignore this distress call and let another ship answer it. The security of these artifacts and myself are your top priority...lieutenant."

Edgar sat down and now looked up carefully at the ambassador. His green eyes flared at the inflections. “If you are insinuating that I should ignore the call for aid from another Federation ship just to give you special treatment I would throw your own logic into question...ambassador. We’ve already changed course and you have not given me any argument to agree with you.”

Sokketh’s eyes narrowed. “So you do not find security of a Federation Ambassador to be important? It’s clear to me now that your inability to understand logic—”

“Excuse me ambassador, but what inability are you claiming I have?” Edgar’s hands palmed the top of his desk, ready to propel him to his feet.

“I know what you are, Romulan. It’s so very clear you embrace your emotions and run from logic.” The ambassador scolded. Edgar shot to his feet. His face was cold and adamant.

“We’re done here. It is Starfleet regulation to answer any ship in distress no matter what the current mission states. There is no logic to your actions or opinions, Vulcan or otherwise. And furthermore, if you dare insinuate that my Romulan or Human heritage is any grounds for intolerance, I’ll be happy to remind you that such a stance is rooted only in an emotional hatred. Get out.”

The ambassador spun on his heels and exited the room, leaving Edgar a moment to collect himself. The crewman at ops chimed over the intercom and informed him Admiral Quinn was on a subspace channel. Edgar took the call in the ready room and sat back down. “Admiral, I take it you received our update?”

“Yes we have. I’m sure the ambassador will protest but you’re the closest ship to intercept. His safety is still your priority but if you can respond to the Azura please do so.”

“Understood, admiral.”

“Oh before you go, your chief of engineering has arrived at Earth.”

“Thank you admiral. Is that all?”

“For now, we’ll see you when you get back; Quinn Out.”

Captain’s Log stardate 87723.5: The New Orleans has passed the repair inspection and has been cleared for duty. Ambassador Sokketh is onboard, along with the original crew now supplemented with crewmen recently graduated from the Acadmey as well as some that are completing their final courses. As soon as Spacedock traffic control clears us for departure, we will be on our way to the P’Jem system. On an unrelated note, I’ve been able to acquire a chief engineer. He’s is an Enhasan, but he was the best person for the job given my options. I can only hope he is up for the task when he arrives. Until my senior staff is assigned, I’m scheduling routine Bridge Officer certifications for all ensigns.

“Helm, have we been cleared to undock?” Edgar asked as he exited the ready room and took his seat at the captain’s chair. Solek watched him, noting it was the first time he sat in the chair with the official command title. Edgar seemed not to realize the significance. A glance to Solek proved otherwise.

“Aye sir, awaiting heading instructions from you, sir.” The crewman at the help informed.

Edgar blinked slowly at the remark. “Set course for the P’Jem system, crewman...Engage.”

The bridge crew watched cautiously as the helm activated the warp drive and the ship flew out of the Sol System. “How long before we reach P’Jem, helmsman?”

“At our current speed, it should take us about fourteen hours.” Edgar stood, moving towards the ready room. “Solek you have the bridge, report in when we reach—”

“Captain, I’m picking up a distress call from a federation cargo ship. It’s the Azura, sir. She claims to have a severe plasma leak that’s left her dead in the water.”

Edgar spun on his heels to look at the woman reporting at tactical. “...Helm, intercept course; engage.”

“Aye, sir.”

“OPS, notify Starfleet of the situation and inform me of any response. Bridge to Ambassador Sokketh...Ambassador, we’re picking up a distress call from a cargo ship nearby; we’re plotting a course to intercept now. I wanted to inform you that our arrival at P’Jem will be delayed.”

“Captain,” Sokketh’s voice began over the comm. “I must protest such a decision.”

Edgar muttered under his breath, “here we go...” Solek turned and looked to Edgar, checking if he needed to intercept. Edgar motioned him down and listened further.

“I am an ambassador from Vulan and it is only logical that I am treated with a higher priority than a cargo ship in distress. The artifacts I have as well as the risks undertaken by coming to aid a ship in distress—”

“Ambassador, if you are questioning my logic then I suggest you find your way to my ready room to discuss this in private. We’re going to assist the ship.” Edgar stated, crossing his hand across his neck to ops to kill the communication.

[[ Episode 1.2 ]

Captains Log, Stardate 87684.2: The thirty-six hour shore leave I’ve given the crew has been extended to two weeks while the New Orleans undergoes an extensive refit. My own shore leave is over, however, having been consumed by the debriefing by Admiral Quinn, preparing for the arrival of the crew and attempting to find qualified candidates to serve on the bridge. The debriefing with Quinn was mixed, however I left his office with the official rank of lieutenant as well as formal command of the New Orleans. I have accepted Ensign Solek’s transfer request and have assigned him as my first officer, given that under the present crew, he is the only other presently assigned crewman with Bridge Officer certification. As the crew returns, our primary focus will be assisting Earth Spacedock with repairs to the ship. with my lack of seniority it is doubtful I will have a full crew anywhere including the bridge for about a month. Aside from that we await orders from Admiral Quinn regarding other transfers and tasks.

“Computer, end log.” Edgar threw a PADD across the desk and sighed heavily. "...Well isn't this a load of crap.”

“Unable to process inquiry. Please restate.”

“Oh shut up.”

“Silent mode activated.” Edgar slammed his head into the desk at his frustration. The desk system brought up a voice to text message translation, requesting Edgar’s response. “Damn fuzzy logic subroutines...”

He tapped the console and the message appeared. ‘Captain Calvin, we have an incoming transmission from Admiral Quinn.’ Edgar sat back up and composed himself.

“Computer, return audio to previous settings. Accept transmission.” Admiral Quinn’s face appeared on the monitor next to him. “Admiral, how are you today?”

“I’m well thanks. What’s the status on the repairs of the New Orleans?” Quinn seemed a bit more cheerful today, Edgar smiled.

“The Spacedock repair teams reported that the ship needs a new port nacelle; there are bio-neural packs all over the ship that need replacements, which I have to agree; many redundant plasma conduits are fried, including a lot of the backup isolinear chips; and lastly, all the bridge consoles were damaged beyond repair. Reports indicate repairs are on schedule and we should be ready for inspection in two days.” Edgar reported.

“Excellent news, I’m sure the inspection will be fine. When the New Orleans is back up and running, lieutenant, we have a diplomatic mission for you.”

“I’m listening...” Edgar did as the admiral detailed the specifics of the mission. Shortly after the meeting with Admiral Quinn, Solek reported the first crewmen were returning from leave. Edgar sent out crew announcements and other various instructions.

Hi Guys - for some reason the site won't allow me to add friends - when I click add friends it's just like the button is not connected to anything & nothing happens! Any ideas? P :S

Oren-De entered the Pandora's transporter room with Shrel and a security detail in tow. As they stepped up onto the transporter pad, the attending transporter engineer handed them each a phaser rifle and a belt that provided a personal shield. The team was in the business of donning this equipment when the doors to the room suddenly slid open, making way for a very agitated War'en.

"Sir, I must protest your decision to join the away team. You are the captain of this vessel and this mission is entirely too dangerous."

Oren-De looked momentarily surprised at War'en's outburst, but quickly resumed his normal calm composure.

"Your objection is noted, Lieutenant Commander Lok."

An awkward silence filled the room as the two looked at each other. It wasn't until Oren-De realized that his first officer wasn't going to leave without some justification that he finally elaborated.

"While I am the Pandora's captain, I am also her most experienced ground tactical officer. Indeed, for a mission this dangerous, I am one of those best-suited for the away team. Sending someone else would only needlessly jeopardize the away team and the staff of the outpost."

War'en looked at Oren-De in surprise. He wasn't sure whether to balk at his superior's arrogance or be impressed by his sense of duty. Finally, after a moment of thought, War'en relented.

"Acknowledged, sir." He then shot a look at Shrel, who nodded in return. It would be Shrel's duty to keep an eye on Oren-De and the Bajoran seemed to already have realized that. Oren-De, who seemed to have missed the brief nonverbal exchange, gave the go-ahead to the transporter attendant before looking back at War'en.

"You have the Bridge, Lieutenant Commander. We'll be tagging survivors for transport to Medical as we find them."

With that, the away team disappeared in a shimmer of blue light. War'en shot a look at the transporter attendant as he turned to leave. The young ensign seemed to almost wilt under the wave of frustration that poured out of his chief's gaze. He watched as War'en stalked out of the room and gave a relieved sigh when the doors finally hissed shut behind him. Out in the corridor, War'en began barking out orders to the Pandora's crew via the comm system.

"Lok to the Bridge. Begin monitoring the away team's progress. Stay alert for any approaching hostile ships, but keep shields lowered for now. Medical, prepare to receive casualties from the outpost ASAP. We're expecting a sizeable number."

And hopefully none of them will be our new captain...

Meanwhile, deep inside the outpost, the away team was taking stock of their surroundings. They were in a cargo bay that looked to be untouched by the Klingon attack. As soon as they had materialized, Shrel had taken a tricorder scan of the immediate area. After quickly reading the display, he snapped the device shut and looked at Oren with a soldier's seriousness.

"Just like the Pandora's scans, sir. This room is free of Klingon activity, and they're not heading in our direction. The station's subsystems are too damaged for them to detect a beam-in."

Oren-De nodded. "Good. They will be on the alert for us though, as I imagine the two Birds of Prey alerted them to our presence."

"The largest cluster of lifesigns is down the corridor from us, in the outpost's operations area. From the clustering of Klingon and non-Klingon readings, I'd guess that they are holding the remaining staff hostage while they try and find whatever it is they're here for, sir."

"Let's begin, then. Be alert and on your guard," Oren-De commanded as he raised his phaser rifle and activated his personal shield. Shrel and the rest of the security detail did the same, and the team slowly exited the cargo bay and proceeded down the corridor toward Ops. They were halfway there when Shrel suddenly held up a hand and gave a whispered hold order to the rest of the detail. They went into a crouch, with Oren-De following suit next to Shrel.

"There is a group of Klingons advancing this way. We can ambush them if we remain hidden at this position."

Oren-De nodded, and the team trained trained their rifles on the intersection ahead. Soon, the sound of heavy Klingon bootsteps began to echo down the corridor. The footsteps grew steadily louder and, soon enough, the group stepped just into view. One of the Klingons spotted the Starfleet officers out of the corner of his eye and barked a loud warning. Oren-De and the rest of the team fired their weapons, stunning a number of Klingons. The three remaining, protected by shields, responded with blasts of disruptor fire, causing the team to dive out of the way. Shrel came out of his roll alongside most of the detail and, with military precision, fired as one on the lead Klingon. The attack was too much for his shields, punching through them and blasting the Klingon a few feet down the hall.

Meanwhile, the remaining two had rushed toward Oren-De and a lone security member. The two fired on one of the Klingon pair and managed to bring him down, but the second was now too close to hinder with a second assault. The Klingon reached back and raised his bat'leth, bringing it down on Oren-De. The Enhasan rolled to the side, narrowly dodging the attack. With a primal yell, the Klingon made another attack. Oren-De looked up and saw the weapon coming down. It was too close to get out of the way in time. Shrel saw the danger his captain was in and brought his weapon to bear on the Klingon, but there was no possibility he would make the shot in time.

Just as the weapon neared Oren-De's head, the brilliant amber color of phasers filled his vision as four beams lanced through the air above him and struck his attacker. The Klingon was lifted from his feet by the assault and dropped a good six feet away. Oren-De looked over his shoulder and saw four Starfleet officers running toward them from a distance away. As they approached, Oren-De first that the lead officer, a young Human male with short, cropped brown hair, was wearing a blue and green visor that completely covered his eyes. The team from the Pandora stood as the newcomers stopped and stood at attention in front of Oren-De. The lead officer shouldered his rifle and grinned.

"Ensign William Lacera, sir. And may I say, you are all a sight for sore eyes. I was worried that Starfleet wouldn't even know about the attack, since we never even got off a distress call."

Oren-De nodded. "I am Commander Oren-De of the USS Pandora. We originally came here to pick up an officer that was posted to our ship, but we have come to render any aid you need in light of this surprise attack."

Will nodded with a look of recognition. "Ah, the Pandora. You're here for Lieutenant Matoya. Well, hopefully she's still alive. She's going to be one of the staff that the Klingons are going to be 'speaking with', and I've heard that those discussions don't last too long if you don't tell them what they want to hear."

"What interest do they have in her?"

"Well, sir, this outpost recently discovered the the Klingons were using the nearby nebula as a staging area for raids. The nebula hides their presence, so they can build up their forces there inside Federation space for raids. While I can't be sure, I'd guess that the Klingons listened to the chatter from our outpost, figured out they'd be discovered, and attacked the base to get at the data. I don't think the outpost had alerted Starfleet yet to what it had discovered, so as long as they got the data and prevented its transmission, Starfleet would never know. As for Lieutenant Matoya, well, she is one of those with access to that data. The Klingons will likely force her or one of the other officers to give them access."

Shrel looked at Oren-De with some alarm. "We don't have much time then, captain. The Klingons have some methods of interrogation that are impossible to resist."

"Agreed. Lieutenant Shrel, report everything that Ensign Lacera has told us to Pandora and have them transmit it to the nearest Starbase. Ensign Lacera, your team will join mine in rescuing the personnel held in the Ops section."

"Yes, sir!" Will said with a grin.

Let me know what you all think:

JWH, may look human, act human, but he most certainly is not human.

He is species 8472 or Undine.

Trained on one of the 13 "terraspheres" in the Delta Quadrant that recreated Starfleet Academy within as a staging ground for an intelligence gathering mission on Earth, he was given a mission of infiltrating Starfleet moving up to the highest ranks possible

However, when Kathryn Janeway made peace with his species, while she was in the Delta Quadrant, his mission was called off.

JWH never returned to fluidic space nor to his natural form - as he enjoyed the pleasures of his human body.

As the years went by, he had to change forms so other humans would not notice that he was not aging.

He was surprised to see his species declare genocide on ALL non fluidic life - instead of just the Borg who started this in the first place.

He disagrees with his fellow Undine, and decided to re enter starfleet to fight against them because he believes what they are doing is wrong.

In 2408, he met a human male, and fell in love. Being that his species has no gender (except while in human form), the oddity of a same gender union never crossed his mind like some other humans. He would have thought by 2409 humans would be more open minded to things.

His mate now lives aboard ship - servering his first officer and cheif engineer. If his partner ever really knew who... or what he really was... well... it would be unbearable.

JWH will stop at nothing to protect those he cares about and what "he" believes in. Even if it means he is to be the last Undine in existance.

JWH's true name in unpronoucable by humans, nor is the Starfleet database capable of storing his true name, even if they did find out as no non fluidic species has writings capable to represent his true name

go right ahead! :D

Awesome story! Do you mind if I include references to this story in mine, Josh?

Quick question about the Fleet Action contest at Starbase 24: is there a level cap to enter?

We have gays, lesbians, bisexuals, transgenerders and straight members, but more of that beginning of that list and less of the ending. Wish we had a better split.

there was at least one TNG episode that dealt with this case (hetero of course, since stewart wasn't playing a mo this time) and a number of others with inter-Boff relations and relationships. :D

Really great! I've thought about how my characters fit into the intro story, but you completely nailed it. I did not see the Borg BOFF coming. Brilliant.

I wonder what Starfleet's rules are about fraternization between officers and those under their command... :)