Pandora/Battlefront Crossover: "Out of the Fire"

ST: Pandora [[Episode 1.3]
ST: Battlefront [[Episode 1.4]


Lieutenant Edgar Calvin’s Personal Log, Stardate 87730.4: The New Orleans has been destroyed by the Undine using a barrage of heavy plasma torpedoes. The ship had a full crew of two hundred, and I should be grateful that over fifty percent have survived at one hundred and seventeen. However, I view any consolations and optimisms minimize the impact of the lives that were lost and thus an insult to their memories.

The chime at Edgar’s temporary quarters broke the silence. “Enter.”

Aron-Mu walked into the room holding a PADD. “Sir, I’ve retrieved the biographical crew manifest from the flight recorder of the New Orleans. The logs and final events are being decrypted right now.”

Eddie took the PADD and started skimming through the first few names in an alphabetical order. His smile immediately turned into a hard frown. “I don’t recognize any of these people, and half of them are dead.”

“Sir...” Aron said trying to bring his commanding officer back to the current situation. “You can’t blame yourself for this. There was no way we could have been prepared for that kind of fight.”

“Aron, what was your experience on the Kobayashi Maru exam at the Academy?” Edgar asked as he tossed the PADD to the bed. Aron followed it and noticed the wide bed had imprints of two individuals instead of one. He quickly snapped back to attention and looked at Edgar.

“Sir I...failed that test.” Aron confessed. It was not something he liked to admit in the slightest and the embarrassment was completely obvious.

“Everyone does; it’s a test of character, not a puzzle to rescue the ship. Starfleet touts that it’s morally required to judge a cadet’s character in the face of a no-win scenario, to see how they handle overcoming the fear of death.” Edgar scoffed as he paced the room. “What a load of garbage! That test has no merit when you actually face that scenario in reality or on the battlefield.”

Another chime interrupted Edgar’s complaining. The two men exchanged glances. “Enter...”

At the door now was Lt. Matoya. “Captain, do you have a moment? I’d like to discuss some things that have happened during your tour on the New Orleans.”

Edgar grimaced an annoyance as he picked up the PADD he had tossed onto the bed. “Apologies, Lieutenant, but I need to assess the status of my crew right now...excuse me.”

Edgar slipped out of his quarters, dodging Maggie and any line of questioning she had hoped to get through. Maggie turned to Aron and looked fairly annoyed, and Aron deflected the look with one of his own. Maggie faltered slightly that her stare had been so easily deflected, but she quickly brushed it off under the pretense of Aron’s species. Maggie turned to chase after Edgar, but Aron stopped her. “Lieutenant, if I may advise you...”

“And what advice could you have for me, Ensign?” She shot at him, marking rank.

“I advise that you leave him alone until he’s ready to talk to you.” Aron said, making his own exit from Edgar’s quarters. “He can be quite unreasonable if you force the issue.”

Maggie scoffed and made her way to the bridge. Upon entry immediately requested to speak to her captain in his ready room. Once inside and the doors shut, Maggie explained what just happened. “What do you suggest sir, I do not know how long we can allow him to delay this.”

Oren-De thought for a moment then seemed to make a note on his console. “Lieutenant Calvin’s interview is your top priority. All of your other duties are relinquished until you have it. I don’t care how you get the information out of him, just do so quickly.”

Edgar Calvin stood in the medical bay of the Pandora speaking with various people from his ship. He had just finished speaking with Summer and she was now returning to her quarters. Dr. Redwing glanced over at him a few times while treating his patients, watching him to see if he would be disruptive. “Lieutenant, is there nothing else you can do right now? No one’s in a critical condition.”

“Doctor, I’ve already finished my reports and given my senior staff standing orders; I have nothing else to do aside from sulking in the mess hall. I would rather spend my time making sure others are recovering instead of pouting in a corner.” Edgar started but was interrupted by a woman’s sobs in a corner. The sob was distracting enough for Redwing to glance over and look onward in concern. Edgar noted the pointed ears and grief pattern. “Who did she lose?”

Redwing felt a knot in his throat trying to voice the comment, “Her husband.”

Edgar felt his stomach churn as he sympathized with the young woman, thinking how he’d feel if he lost Solek. He moved over to her to offer his condolences. “Excuse me, lieutenant?”

Talona looked up at him and turned away after making eye contact. Edgar felt he had intruded and began to walk away saying only a single sentence in Romulan, “{I’m sorry.}”

As Edgar turned to move away Talona made a grab for Edgar’s hand. “Thank you.”

Edgar nodded back to her, but the exchange was cut short by Redwing’s raised voice at another patient in Navajo before returning to a common language. “Stop that! What are you doing?”

“I’m a medical professional, doctor I know what I’m doing. Don’t interrupt me.” Turek dismissed while using an osteogenic stimulator on his ankle. Redwing looks fairly irritated as Edgar approached the two doctors.

“Doctors, what seems to be the problem here?” Edgar pressed, attempting to enforce mediation with his fading authority. Turek looked at Edgar with a slight malice and irritation, but Redwing looked at him with the expectation the lieutenant would side with him.

“I am simply taking care of my own medical needs so I can remove myself from sick bay as quick as possible. I have no interest in prolonging my experience here.” Turek stated, still using the osteogenic stimulator.

“Lieutenant, this is a serious breach of protocol. There are other individuals with a greater need for that medicine, and we’re already on short supply!” Redwing said to Turek’s commanding officer, gritting his teeth. There was evidence of disdain from Red regarding Turek’s comment about where he was. Edgar looked between the two men. He was clearly plotting something that unsettled both of them with his facial expressions.

“Ensign, after you’re done repairing your ankle I’d like to have a few words with you in private. Then if the Doctor doesn’t mind an extra pair of hands, I’d like for you to assist him with zero protest.” Edgar said, putting both doctors in a state of great irritation.

“My ankle is fixed now.”

“My office is available and if he behaves he is welcome to stay. Besides, I could use someone to replicate more stimulators.” Edgar nodded and directed Turek to move towards the office of the sick bay.

“I had a chance to read your file before the incident aboard the planet. While it doesn’t excuse you from your insubordinate actions under my command, it does shed new light on your motivations. I am sorry that recent events are too similar to your past experience. I just wanted to inform you that I’ll be granting any request to transfer you back to Starfleet Medical.” Edgar began walking back out of the office. Turek was completely stunned.

“Sir, are you feeling all right?” Turek asked, his Hippocratic Oath taking over his opinions.

“I just lost my ship and half my crew, I’ve barely had command for a month and when I took command the ship had already lost half her crew. There are names and faces that were onboard that I never met and now I never can. Yet still, there are others like myself that have seen a mass of death twice now. No, Turek, I’m not feeling all right.” Edgar said, once again trying to walk out of the office.

“I’m sorry sir. I didn’t know.” Edgar left after a nod.

Solek entered the mess hall alone and made his way over to the replicator. After perusing the menu, Solek decided on a human dish he knew Edgar favored and his typical Vulcan Spice tea. Looking around he approached a Trill sitting by himself at a table, looking over a P.A.D.D. while he eats. “Greetings, Lt. Commander, do you mind if I join you?”

War’en looked up, recognized Solek and motioned to the empty seat opposite him “Oh, of course. Please sit.”

Solek took the seat and glanced at the Trill. “I hope you don't mind the conversation...You are the first officer on board, are you not?”

“Conversation would be great, Lieutenant. And yes, I am the First Officer.” He glanced at the P.A.D.D. before moving it away “...and Chief Engineer. War'en Lok, but please, call me War.”

“I am Solek. I was the First Officer and the Chief Science Officer as well. I believe you have met our chief of engineering, have you not?”

War’en nodded, “Yes, Aron. He's been pretty busy down there with the New Orleans' flight recorder.”

“I hear that he is like your captain - an Enhasan. It must be interesting to have one as a commanding officer.”

War’en frowned and chose his words carefully before responding, “Yes, it is...Solek, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“Not at all; is something wrong?

“Possibly. How would you comment on Captain Calvin's interaction with his crew?” War asked, feeling slightly nervous.

“Eddie...Lieutenant Calvin, is a complicated subject in that regard. He is usually better dealing with computers than people, but Admiral Quinn's actions, putting him in charge of an entire ship, has forced him to change his methodology. I'm still growing accustomed to that myself. He has become more focused on crew cohesion and motivation than power output levels this past month. I believe he has viewed his command as an extended shakedown and training cruise.”

“That's good. I've heard from Red that he's been spending a lot of time in sick bay.” War’en nodded.

“Indeed. He feels a great deal of remorse for losing the ship. I can only attribute the intense guilt to his intense emotional state. Most likely from not being more prepared to deal with the threat we faced.”

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant but, ‘intense emotional state?’”

“Eddie is a half-Romulan Human hybrid. Romulans like their Vulcan cousins share the equally intense emotions. Because his cultures embrace a slightly restrained and channeled reaction opposed to suppression and mental control, he still feels them completely, unlike Vulcans. It makes him a very...passionate... ...individual, and he is suffering a tremendous loss.”

War’en raised an eyebrow at Solek’s word choice, but chose not say anything regarding the comment. “Actually... we also have a half-Romulan among our senior staff, Lt. Roberts. She's in a similar state right now...not that I blame her.”

Desmond Troi strolled through the cooridor and happened upon an interesting scene. Ensign Lacera was pounding on the holodeck controls, “Now where did that program go?”

“Ensign...” Desmond said as he passed.

Will looked up and smiled. “Hello, Ensign. You’re from the New Orleans, right?”

“I am. er, was...I guess.” Desmond chuckled nervously.

“Oh, right. Sorry...” Will winced and turned away from the control panel. He extended his hand and introduced himself, “Ensign Will Lacera.”

Desmond took the hand and gave it a firm shake. “Ensign Desmond Troi. Don't worry about the slip...I myself am still getting used to it...I knew what you meant. Call me Des off duty.”

Will nodded. “If you don't mind me asking, what did you do onboard her?”

Des looked a bit proud for a moment, “Senior helmsman. How ‘bout yourself?”

Will grinned, “Senior helmsman as well, actually.”

“Really? That's awesome! What squad were you a part of?” Desmond asked.

Will’s grin widened a bit, “Red Squad. You?”

Desmond’s puzzled look wasn’t what Will expected. “The same...when did you graduate?”

Will looked up to do the math in his head, “I guess... wow, it'll be four years soon.”

Desmond grinned and nodded at the number, “Oh that explains it then. I entered starfleet around that time; joined RS a year later. It’s great to meet another fellow squad member.”

“Yeah! Man, you're actually the first one I've met since I graduated.” Will paused, as something occurred to him, “Wait... if you joined nearly four years ago... aren't you still in the Academy?”

“Well, I was a crewman onboard, but Captain Calvin...sorry, Lieutenant Calvin...encouraged me to take the Bridge Officer certification and waived my final internship requirements when I passed.” Desmond clarified.

“Wow, congratulations! That's great!” Will’s eyebrows raised through his visor.

Desmond smiled nervously, but mostly shook his head, “I guess...Sometimes I feel I didn't get all the training experience that I need to be a great pilot but then again, I think all the officers and crew were prematurely posted.”

“Doubtful. You said you were on Red Squad, right?” Will shook his head, then cocked an eyebrow, “Actually, you busy right now?”

“Not really. I was just heading to the mess hall.”

“I was just about to take a run on a simulator, but I'm getting stale going up against the computer all the time.” Will smiled and proposed his idea, “How about a race?”

Desmond smiles broadly with widened eyes, “Sure! What are we racing? flyers, runabouts, or shuttles?”

“Let’s race Flyers. I have a couple courses set up. In fact... one is one of the Red Squad courses through Sol.” Will grinned as he unveiled the course suggestion.

“Flyers, on the Red Squad course? Definitely down for that idea.”

Still smiling Will turned back to the controls, “Excellent. It will be great to race someone sentient again, especially after being stuck on that damn outpost for so long!”

Will smiled as he found the program and entered the command into the control panel and the holodeck doors enter, revealing two fliers in a shuttle bay setting. “Take your pick.”

“I'll take this one...”

“Good choice, especially since they're identical.” Will joked as he walked into the holodeck. Desmond followed quickly with a slight skip in his step towards the shuttle.

“What happened to Lt. Roberts?” Solek asked after finishing a bite of his food.

“We were one of the ships that responded to the Vega attack. When the Borg boarded, her husband was one of those assimilated and taken away. Then... right before we came to your location, we encountered a number of Borg-assimilated ships, and her husband was one of the boarding drones.” War’en looked away. “Horrible affair...”

Solek took a large sip of the tea. “I see...I must confess to you, Commander, I was originally posted to the Khitomer during that battle.”

War’ren raised his eyebrows, “Really? If I may ask, why were you on the New Orleans, then?”

“Commander Davis permitted a temporary reassignment for me to assist Lt. Calvin in commanding the ship back to Earth after the attack. After Admiral Quinn made our temporary posting official, I remained onboard as First Officer.”

“Interesting. You must really like serving with him.” War commented, suspecting something.

“He is a good officer and a trustworthy friend.” Solek dodged; clearly skirting his relationship with his CO.

War’en lowered his voice, “I must admit, Solek, that I'm a bit jealous.”

“And why is that?”

“The relationship you share with your captain is what I've always thought it should be between a captain and his first officer. I have yet to... click... that way with Captain Oren-De.”

Solek struggled with remaining ambiguous and truthful, “I highly doubt that you mean that literally. I agree that it is necessary to have cohesion between the captain and first officer. There is a need for trust...”

War’en noticed the struggle, but still doesn't say anything. “That's what I mean. Trust...and a feeling that the captain cares about his crew.”

“Indeed it is, sir.” Solek commented as he gathers his dishes. “If you'll excuse me, commander...”

War’en stood as well, gathering his things. “I should to go too. And thank you, Solek.”

“It was good talking to you.”

“I too found the conversation pleasurable. I hope that you find a way to ‘mesh’ with your captain soon. I find the cooperation between the captain and the first officer is a very important aspect of any command structure that all of the crew will need. Until next time, Lt. Commander...” Solek and War’ren nodded mutual respect for each other before going their separate ways.

Lt. Matoya walked briskly through the corridors. The computer just informed her that Lt. Calvin had just left the mess hall and returned to the medical bay. “Red is not going to like this...”

The doors to medical opened and Maggie saw the young Cardassian helping a female crewman mend a large cut on her arm. Turek looked up and smiled, “Welcome back, lieutenant, is something wrong?”

Maggie shrugged. “We’ll find out soon enough. Where is Lt. Calvin?”

“He’s over there, with crewman de Lancie.” Turek said, returning to his patient. Maggie looked over to see Red pull the sheet over the crewman’s head as Edgar sat next to the gurney. Maggie frowned now seeing yet another obstacle to get past. Edgar caught her movement as she approached and frowned away from her.

“I’m sorry, for your loss. Did you know him?” Maggie asked, trying to break the ice.

“Johnny was a year behind me at the academy. He was in the 60kg class on the wrestling team with me. Good kid; brilliant with warp theory.” Edgar let go the dead hand.

“What happened to him?” She asked, partly curious, partly hoping to ease into other questions.

“Apparently he was just recovering from Rigelian Fever and had a few treatments to go when he reported to the New Orleans. Amongst all the commotion to get off the ship, his medication was left behind. What do you need, lieutenant?”

Maggie chewed on her gums. She had guiltily hoped that it wouldn’t be as difficult as this. “I really am sorry...I wish I could come back later, but I must ask you about the events on the Vega Colony.”

“I'm sorry but I cannot talk about this now. Can it not wait until after we arrive at Earth?” Edgar blocked the inquiry once again. Something clicked in his mind.

“Lieutenant, please! I really need to speak to you before...before I lose the opportunity to get your take on the viral cure against Borg infection.”

“I’m sorry Lt. Matoya, but I see no dire reason to discuss this now opposed to four hours from now. Besides, I doubt you have the clearance.” Edgar seethed. His mind was churning and his face wore the clear signs of fear.

“But Lieutenant, you are basing this only on assumption!”

“No, Lieutenant, I’m under direct orders to discuss this with no one. You don't have clearance, and I am not uttering a word.” Edgar stood and brushed Lt. Matoya and stormed quickly out of the medical bay. “Not without direct orders from Quinn himself!”

Red turned and looked at Maggie, “Can you try to avoid any future arguments with him inside medical? It really doesn't help keep my patients calm.”

Maggie sighed and apologized. “I'm sorry, Red, but he's being completely evasive on the subject. On top of that, he's hiding behind that admiral's pips now.”

“Well,” Red started to think aloud as he prepared another hypo for a nearby patient, “maybe you should get some pips of your own then. You don't have an admiral's, but you do have this ship's captain in your corner.”

Maggie nodded, thanked Red for the advice, and left sickbay. As she made her way to the bridge via the turbolift, she frowned to herself. She'd tried to play nice, but time was running out.

A chime sounded in Oren-De's ready room to alert the captain that he had a visitor. "Enter," he said simply.

War'en entered and waited for Oren-De to finish what he was reading on his padd. The Trill was trying to suppress the anxiety he was feeling over what he was about to say, but he was only partially successfull. Still, if anything showed on his face, Oren-De didn't give any indication of it when he looked up.

"Ah, Commander Lok. What can I do for you?"

War'en took a breath, steeled himself, and looked Oren-De in the eyes. "Sir, I need to speak with you about crew morale. I think we have a serious problem."

At first, Oren-De didn't react at all and continued to look at War'en. Then, to the engineer's surprise, the captain let out a sigh and leaned forward in his chair. "Yes, I know. I've been aware of it since I came on board the Pandora."

War'en's look of complete surprise warranted an eyebrow raise from Oren-De, which in itself also caught War'en off-guard. "Why are you so surprised, Commander? Did you think I hadn't noticed? As I've said before, I am aware of the recent history of this ship's crew. There is also the matter of Lieutenant Roberts'... outburst... on the Bridge. Finally, there is the feeling I get from the crew when I walk the halls of this ship. It is painfully obvious that they're uneasy."

It took War'en a moment to find his voice. He hadn't expected Oren-De to be in agreement with him on the point of crew morale, so he was already having to adapt the agenda he'd been going over in his head for the last few days. Finally, he realized that in order to go further, he'd have to step outside the limits of rank.

"Sir, permission to speak freely?"

"Of course, Commander."

"Sir, if you've known about this problem with morale... then why do you treat the crew the way you do?"

Oren-De was taken aback by the blunt question, and now it was his turn to take a moment to think. After a moment, the Enhasan sat back in his chair and looked up at War'en. "I wasn't aware I was treating the crew badly."

"Well, not badly... but it just seems like you don't care. You don't interact with the crew at all, and they notice."

"Commander, it isn't my responsibility to be the ship's counselor and deal with each crew member's deep-seated emotional problems. That may have been possible back during peacetime when the Federation didn't have the Klingons, Borg, and Undine coming at it from all sides, but at present it's difficult enough keeping this crew alive."

War'en began feeling frustrated as Oren-De positioned the argument on the other, equally unreasaonable extreme. "Sir, that's not what I'm suggesting. It's just that you act like most of the crew doesn't even exist, or like they're robots. What we do out here takes a toll and it helps when people know that their captain cares."

"So what would you have me do, Commander? Should I roam the halls weeping, or perhaps I should sulk down in sickbay like Lieutenant Calvin, shirking my duties and responsibilities to both my crew and Starfleet? I doubt either would do much good when the Borg board again and assimilate the crew wholesale because I wasn't on the Bridge keeping things under control."

"It won't really matter, because you treat the crew like a bunch of drones anyway!" War'en snapped, and he instantly regretted it. The silence between the two men was intolerably uncomfortable, and War'en was the first to break it.

"I'm sorry, captain. What I mean is... there is an area, between the pity party that Lieutenant Calvin is throwing in sick bay and the hazard suit you wear with regard to the crew, that you need to find. I know that it's difficult, but this isn't an Enhasan ship. This is a Starfleet ship, and--"

"Enhasan ship? What does that have to do with this?" Oren-De asked, his voice pointed. A pit formed in War'en's stomach when he realized the mistake he had made.

"Sir... I mean... I know that Enhasan culture has a different view of individuals than most other Federation planets, and that it's... sir?"

Oren-De had lowered his face into the palm of his hand and was shaking his head. War'en looked at him quizzically. "Sir?" he asked again.

The Enhasan looked up at War'en but didn't say anything. Instead, he tapped something on his console, causing the display on the side of his ready room to blink to life. War'en recognized what came up as the official Starfleet descriptor of the Meritocracy of Enhasa, the same file that Red had shown him a few days before.

"Commander," Oren-De began with an annoyed tone, "can I assume that you've read this?"

"Yes, sir..."

Oren-De let out a sigh and scrolled down to a section of the file. It was a section that dealt with the psychological profile of Enhasans, specifically those serving in Starfleet. Oren-De began reading one line aloud. "It has also been noted that while the environment of the Enhasan caste system seems to limit the creative and synergistic thinking of Enhasan officers, they are exceedingly efficient and excel at delegation and organization."

He looked back at War'en. "One of my instructors at the Academy, in an evaluation of mine, once stated that my 'social behavior' was a 'likely a product of Enhasa's strict meritocratic system'. Commander, ever since my last CO showed that to me, I have wanted to take the authors of these evaluations and show them 'the business end of a phaser rifle', as Humans so elegantly put it. For all it's talk of diversity, the Federation and Starfleet can be quite poor at understanding cultures which are different from the ideals in their charters. I don't suppose it ever occurred to you that, just as Trills and Humans have a wide range of personalities, that Enhasans might as well?"

War'en felt himself shrink under Oren-De's glare. He had royally messed this up and now he just sounded like an idiot. "No... sir. I guess I didn't," he finally forced himself to say.

"Believe it or not, Commander, many Enhasans possess a great capacity for compassion, understanding, and empathy. In fact, those that have exceeding amounts of it are trained to be caretakers of our children, so that they may not only benefit from these traits but learn them as well. The only part of me that is a 'product of the meritocracy' is that, as I possessed aptitudes in skills that would make me an excellent soldier, I was raised to be an excellent soldier. Additionally, you might be surprised to know that a number other similar individuals were actually quite social and empathetic. It is simply a skillset that I, as an individual, do not have an aptitude for."

"I understand, sir."

"Good, then ca--"

"Unfortunately, sir, a captain needs to be more than just a solider."

Oren-De looked at War'en in stunned silence. War'en took the opportunity and ran with it, because he knew he wouldn't have the nerve to say the rest if he waited. "A captain needs to be different things at different times, sir. Yes, a captain needs to keep calm and control in a crisis. But a captain also needs to cultivate trust among the crew. A captain needs to know what's going on so that problems don't continue to fester and grow into incidents like what happened on the Bridge with Talona. I mean, captain, she's one of your senior officers! You see her every day in our morning meetings. Each one of those meetings was an opportunity to intervene, but you didn't. Instead, it just continued to get worse until it finally manifested on the Bridge during a critical moment. As captain of this ship, the responsibility for what happened falls squarely on your shoulders!"

More silence passed. Oren-De studied War'en, who was doing everything in his power to maintain his composure. After what seemed like an eternity, Oren-De took a breath and seemed to deflate right in front of his first officer.

"You're correct, Commander. I cannot argue with your assessment of the situation. I failed to observe Lieutenant Roberts' emotional degradation until it was too late, and it meant a failure in our standing mission."

War'en wasn't sure what to say. He just watched Oren-De, who was looking at his desk in thought. Finally, he looked up at War'en with a softer expression on his face.

"Commander, what would you recommend?"

"Well... I..." War'en stumbled, not really sure what to say. The conversation had taken so many turns that he found himself lost now that Oren-De actually seemed to agree with him. Oren-De's expectant look forced him to finally get it out.

"Interact with the crew more, sir. That goes for both the senior officers as well as crewmen. When you're off-duty, socialize. Drop by the lounge area some time, if only to get a gauge for how everyone's doing. Also, stop always referring to us by rank, please! No captain actually does that. I mean, did any of your CO's actually refer to you as a rank all the time?"

Oren-De shook his head, though it was questionable as to how much he agreed with the practice. After a moment, Oren-De spoke. "I have a proposition. I will endeavor to be more social with the crew and take an interest in their personal well-being... if you, as first officer, agree to help me. If there's something I'm missing, let me know."

War'en's face practically lit up like a warp nacelle. "Yes, sir! That would be... excellent."

The faintest smile cracked on Oren-De's face. "Then we're agreed, Comm-- Mr. Lok. Is there anything else I shou--"

Oren-De was once again interrupted, this time by the chime of his ready room door. He glanced at War'en, who shook his head to indicate he was finished. "Come in."

Maggie practically burst through the doors as they opened, her face full of frustration from her recent encounter with Lieutenant Calvin. War'en looked at her in surprise, but Oren-De took it in stride. It didn't take a Betazoid to know what had probably caused this.

"Lieutenant Calvin?"

"Completely uncooperative, and he's hiding behind Admiral Quinn's rank, not to mention any possible sympathy he can get from the destruction of the New Orleans."

Oren-De glanced at War'en, then back at Maggie. "Then I believe it's time that I spoke with Lieutenant Calvin personally. However, allow me to make a quick hail to Starfleet. I will join both of you outside when I'm finished."

Maggie nodded and turned on her heel to leave. War'en followed, already imagining the inevitable confrontation.

Lieutenant Calvin entered the mess hall looking slightly less antagonized than when he left sick bay, and moved to sit down after getting food from the replicator. He sat with a heavy sigh from exhaustion. Soon after, Captain Oren-De entered the mess hall with Maggie and War'en in tow and, after spotting Eddie, walked over to him. “Lieutenant Calvin, may I have a word with you please?”

Eddie almost grunted as he finished a bite, “Have a seat, Captain. What is this about?”

Oren took the offered seat as War'en and Maggie sit next to him. Maggie looked a little smug, which did nothing but annoy Edgar. He watched her with great suspicion, trying to figure out what her motivations really were.

“Lieutenant Matoya informs me that you have been... uncooperative... in her attempts to interview you about a matter regarding a project of yours. Is this true?” Oren pressed immediately to the topic. Edgar noted quickness to the point.

“The claim is relatively accurate...but not unwarranted...” he answered vaguely, adhering to minimal disclosure in a public setting.

“Please explain, Lieutenant.” Oren-De volleyed. Edgar noted that he would have to deflect to someone else if he was going to keep this up, looking squarely at Maggie.

“Is it safe to assume you've explained how you aren't cleared for this information?” He paused, “Or would you take this opportunity to reveal yourself for witholding such clearance authority now?”

Maggie smirked as she glanced at her captain, “I've explained that you were hiding behind Admiral Qui--”

“Watch your tone, Lieutenant. We are all officers of Starfleet here.” Oren-De shot back, turning to her.

Maggie frowned as she looked away. “Yes, sir.”

Edgar grinned with a slight nod to Oren's comment at Maggie. The expression caught Oren’s attention and he looked back, looking simply annoyed. “Lieutenant Calvin, I am asking for your explanation, not Lieutenant Matoya's. So please, in your words, explain why you have been uncooperative with her.”

Edgar sat down his fork and looked at the officers sitting around him, “Since the key detail has been so painfully omitted...I'm under direct orders from two admirals to not discuss a single aspect of what happened on the Vega Colony.”

Oren-De nodded, “Understood.”

Edgar continued, sitting up slightly allowing his long torso to tower over the table. “Now unless I have my rank privelige and clearance levels backwards, I doubt a Lieutenant would have such a clearance by default. Since she did not produce such exception earlier, I was well grounded in my refusal to cooperate. Also, on a personal note, I do not see any reason this cannot wait until I have gotten permission from those two admirals to discuss anything with her, why she needs to know, or why this can’t wait.” Edgar looked irritated that he had to keep repeating himself as he jammed another bite of food in his mouth.

Oren nodded again. “Understood, Lieutenant. However...” his eyes flashed a brief, but unmistakable glare, “you would do well to watch your tone when speaking with a Commander and the captain of the vessel on which you are a guest.”

Edgar shot a glare as he tried to respond quickly, but struggled on the bite of food before he swallowed. “On a technicality, Commander, I, like you, hold the rank of Captain to my crew until I disembark at Sol. We would all do well to remember that.” His last comment was given directly to Maggie.

There was a tone of silence from his outburst, yielding a raised an eyebrow at the man's clear disrespect. Oren dismissed it in the interest of moving on. “Your misinterpretation of the chain of command aside, I am here to inform you that Admiral Quinn has granted clearance to Liuetenant Matoya to interview you with regard to the events at Vega Colony.”

Edgar heard the words of defeat from the captain, and sighed as he gazed at his half-eaten food. “My apologies, sir. If you have those orders on a PADD, I'd like to see that.”

Oren promptly hands the PADD to Eddie, clearly expecting the request, “You will find all relevant information there.”

Eddie scanned the PADD carefully, and then grinned, “This is only partial clearance. Given this, an interview would only allow me to repeat the data reports included. Any information I can provide based on what is cleared is already available from the science reports and the debriefings...Besides, no one has answered why she needs this information before we reach spacedock.”

“With regard to the first point, I agree. However, Liuetanant Matoya still wishes to conduct the interview with you.” Oren sighed, knowing he was holding information just as much as Edgar had. Edgar glanced up at a slight interruption.

At the far end of the mess hall Desmond and Will entered, laughing about their run through the holodeck race. Desmond stopped when he looked at the table. After a moment, the two decided to sit on the far side of the mess hall.

“And with regard to the second... it doesn't matter. I am ordering you to comply with her request.”

Edgar knew what it meant. His assumptions felt now grounded in more truth than conjecture. He almost snarled at Oren’s dismissal of his inquiry.

“.....Understood....sir.” Warren noticed Will and Desmond and takes some comfort in that at least SOME members of the two crews are getting along, turning back as Edgar finished. “...Is that all?”

The two bridge officers stared between the two men, noting that Eddie's clear disrespect didn’t seem to phase Oren. Maggie smirked smugly again at her partial victory, as it was a victory nonetheless. “Excellent. And yes, that is all.”

“Then if you would excuse me.” Edgar stood quickly, throwing his dishes together splashing half-eaten food and a full glass of liquid. Oren raised an eyebrow at the mess, while War'en and Maggie stared in surprise at Eddie's outburst. Edgar walked over to the reclaimator but got intercepted by Desmond.

“Sir, is everything ok?” Desmond asked, almost craning his neck to look at his towering captain.

Eddie sighed, realizing that people that did admire him and respect him had seen him act a bit like a child. “Yeah, I’m fine, Des. I just...got a bit of a bomb dropped on me, to use an old human turn of phrase.”

“Sir...Eddie, I’m sure it will work out in the end. Besides, we still need our captain when we get to spacedock.” Desmond said, smiling at the comment. It moved Eddie to smile sadly.

“Here’s hoping you’re right.” Eddie patted Desmond’s shoulder. After a moment, Eddie returned to the table looking immensely calmer and collected, “Whenever you are ready Lieutenant.”

All four Pandora officers noticed the brief exchange between Desmond and Eddie, though didn’t hear much of it. Maggie looked at Eddie and stood, “I'm ready now. Care to follow me to my office?”

“As you wish...”

Maggie smirked again and turns to exit the mess hall. Oren and War'en followed suit. “Mr. Lok, please take the conn on the bridge. I will be heading to sick bay.”

“Sir? Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything is fine. I believe, given our recent conversation, it's long past time that I spoke with Ms. Roberts.” Oren-De said, leaving the mess hall. War’en looked surprised, but nods with a small grin as he made his way to the bridge.

Edgar sat defiantly across the table from Maggie. His glaring was enough to get under her skin. Edgar was doing this intentionally; doing everything he could with his body language and demeanor. However, it only served to bolster her own resolve to crack the tough nut that sat across from her and extract the information she needed. “Lieutenant. Can I assume you understand the purpose of this interview?”

“No. Perhaps you should clarify all of your intentions.” Edgar seethed. Maggie gave a small smirk before continuing in a tone that, while polite and professional, was obviously forced.

“This interview is intended as a post-mortem regarding the Borg that attacked the Vega Colony and an examination of their behavior. As part of that investigation, the application of a particular computer virus you created to counteract the assimilation process needs to be reviewed.”

“As I told you before, Lieutenant, that information is still classified by two Admirals.” Edgar said, holding his ground.

“And as I told you, Lieutenant, I have been given enough clearance for this assignment.” Maggie volleyed back getting only a scoff from Edgar. She slid a P.A.D.D. across the table, “So, about the virus...What was its original intent?”

“Disabling drones.” Edgar said. He refused to offer further information and Maggie quickly perceived the impression she was going to have to drag every bit of information out of him.

“Why did you write it?” Maggie pressed.

“That, I can’t tell you because of a gag order from Admiral Giovanni with the Judge Advocate General’s office. I looked over the P.A.D.D. with Quinn’s orders. You not cleared for disclosure of my motivations.” Edgar deflected. “Are we done?”

Maggie scowled and shifted into a more aggressive poise in her seat. “No, we are not. Can you discuss the details of the code and how it worked?”

“Yes.” There was a pause while Maggie waited for him to continue but yet again, he wasn’t cooperating fully.

“Then please explain as completely as possible the details of the program’s behavior.” Maggie directed.

Edgar sighed and leaned back. “The virus operates only on the volatile memory of the neural processor. After the file locks out any commands with a fractal encryption, it proceeds to allocate bits and bits of this volatile memory until the neural processor overloads.”

“Are you aware of any side effects or after effects of the virus?”

“I’m aware of rare instances where unexpected effects have occurred, but I’m not at liberty to discuss it. That falls under Giovanni’s jurisdiction.” Edgar sighed.

Maggie almost slammed her P.A.D.D. down. It was these side effects she wanted to hear. “Can you elaborate what you’ve heard on these and remember I am cleared to hear this.”

“One unexpected behavior was a total system failure in the drone, and another unexpected behavior was disconnection from the collective.” Edgar admitted, beginning to grow unsettled about the interview.

Maggie knew she was getting to the one question she wanted to ask, but knew she’d have to bend somewhat to get the answer, “Thank you, Lieutenant. If you need to speak off the record, I’ll respect that. Do you think this program could be utilized against the Borg to disconnect more drones with similar success?”

“No need, Lieutenant. Expecting consistency from a side effect, with the code reengineered or not, will only be met with failure in the end. It’s only a matter of attempts before the Borg adapt; and believe me, they will.”

“Mr. Calvin, did you notice any odd or inconsistent behavior with the Borg that attacked the Vega Colony compared to the previously documented encounters?” Maggie asked, starting to see if there was anything more she could get from him.

“No I didn’t; I was too busy trying to avoid assimilation or death.” Edgar snapped at her, almost growling. Maggie inched away slightly at the aggression. She'd pushed too much, and his response said enough.

“That’s understandable. Thank you for your cooperation, Lieutenant.” Maggie said, gathering the PADDs on the table.

“Lt. Matoya, there is no cooperation at going behind a fellow lieutenant’s back when that lieutenant is honoring an Admiral’s gag order. This forced cooperation would have gone far better had you gone through the proper channels from the beginning. Excuse me.” Edgar lashed, moving towards the door. Maggie nodded, letting the insulting comment slide. She had what she needed, and was content with waiting for the door the close behind him before she vented her frustration in one bite of sarcasm.

“Funny...I wasn't aware Starfleet let children command starships... ”

Oren-De entered the Medical Bay and found that the level of activity had subsided remarkably since they had rescued the crew of the New Orleans. While it was still very much occupied by a number of patients, the chaos of triage treatment seemed to have at last waned and been replaced by the calm of sleeping patients. Oren-De briefly surveyed the room before stepping into Redwing's office. The medical officer was busy at his terminal, though he looked up when Oren-De entered.

"Captain! What can I do for you?"

"I'd like to speak to Ms. Roberts. Is she awake?"

Redwing frowned at the request. "Yes Captain, but I'm not sure now is the best time for disciplin--"

"Yes, I'm up and about, Captain," came a voice from behind Oren-De. The two men looked back toward the office's entrance to see Talona standing here, looking calm and professional. It was almost unbelievable that this same woman had been subject to an intense emotional outburst on the Bridge just days before. Redwing was clearly surprised to see Talona up and about, and Oren-De acted before Redwing could find his voice again.

"Excellent. Doctor, I'd like to borrow your office for a few moments, so we can speak in private."

Redwing frowned again, but knew he had no room to act. He gave a nod before stepping out, deciding he might as well use the interruption to complete a round of check-ups.

"I'm glad to see you looking well, Ms. Roberts."

Talona nodded. "Thank you, sir." After a moment, she spoke again. "Captain, I apologize for my earlier actions on the Bridge. They were unbecoming of a Starfleet officer, and I am prepared to accept the consequences for my actions."

Oren-De studied Talona before responding. "That will not be necessary, Ms. Roberts. Your situation was... extreme."

Talona looked at Oren-De in surprise. "Sir?"

"Since the Borg attack on the Bridge, I've become aware of the your situation. While I knew that you had recently lost your husband to the Borg, I didn't appreciate the toll it was taking on you. As your captain, I should have been more attentive to your emotional state. With that in mind, I am recommending that you take an extended shore leave once we arrive at Earth, so that you can more sufficiently recover."

Talona remained still as she took in what Oren-De said. To Oren-De's surprise, she looked down at the floor as if disappointed, then looked back up at him in frustration.

"Permission to speak freely, sir."

Oren-De gave her a cautious look. "Granted."

"Sir... I thought you were different."

The captain blinked in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"I thought you were different. Everyone on this crew, they all can't help but feel sorry for me. They treat me like a charity case that has to be coddled and pitied. You... you're different. At least, I thought you were. You still treated me like a Starfleet officer. You gave me duties, and obligations, and respect. You gave me responsibilities that everyone was so quick to relieve me of since I came back on board."

"Ms. Roberts, I must admit I'm confused. I was under the impression that you were in grief."

"Grief, yes. That doesn't mean I'm an invalid!" Talona retorted, her voice raised and full of frustration. It was loud enough that it caught Redwing's attention from the other side of the Medical Bay.

"I lost my husband, and yes, I mourn him. I mourn him every day. However, I'm still perfectly capable of functioning and performing my duties," Talona continued. "Why doesn't anyone here understand that? ... Captain, do you want to know why I was in that 'emotional state'?"

Oren-De just nodded, still too confused by Talona's unexpected reaction to do much else.

"It was because of this crew! Every one of them is just so damned determined to help that they couldn't see I didn't want to be helped. I just wanted to move on and get on with my life, but I couldn't. None of them would let me! None of them... except for you, Captain."

Talona's glare softened and she looked off to the side. "You were the only person in this entire crew who seemed to think I was still capable of being a Starfleet officer and not someone in dire need of therapy. So please... don't change now."

Silence settled between the two of them. In the Medical Bay, Redwing's face had become ashen as he heard Talona's complaints. Like the rest of the crew, he had been just as guilty, if not more so. He looked down at his medical tricorder, though he wasn't reading anything on the display.

"I understand, Ms. Roberts. I take it this means you would like to be resume active duty?"

Talona looked at Oren-De with a smile and nodded. "Yes, sir."

"I am glad to hear that. However, you must promise me that I will not have another incident like what transpired on the Bridge. Regardless of the cause, I expect you as a crewmember to be more mindful of your well-being and to seek out assistance when it is needed, either from the crew, Dr. Redwing... or myself," Oren-De said, his voice softening at his self-reference.

"Understood, sir. It will not happen again."

"Excellent. Then, upon Dr. Redwing's release, you will resume duty upon our departure from Earth. Until then, I suggest that you use the time to adequately recover and prepare."

Talona nodded again. "Thank you, sir."

Oren-De gave her a small nod before turning to leave the Medical Bay. As he passed through towards the exit, he noticed Redwing's preoccupied state. He realized that he probably heard Talona's outburst, but decided it would be best not to interfere. After the doors shut behind the captain, Redwing looked up and saw Talona walking toward him.

"Talona, I'm..."

"Please, Red. Don't say it. I've had enough 'sorries' to last me several lifetimes. You know what I want," said Talona, her face stone serious. Redwing nodded.

"You're released from Medical Bay. Please come see me, however, if you notice yourself becoming depressed again."

Talona simply nodded. She walked toward her bed, collected belongings that Shrel had delivered earlier, and exited the Medical Bay. As she walked down the empty corridor toward the turbolift, she picked a tricorder out of the small pile she carried. It had been difficult, getting what was on there out of the Medical Bay without Red noticing, but the chaos caused by the rescue of the New Orleans crew had helped. She'd overheard Maggie and Red talking about the "Borg cure" program, and while she had lay there mourning her assimilated Michael, she had also been thinking of a way to get to it.

It has been a long time since I had to perform a hack that fast. But, if this works, it will all be worth it. They can demote me, they can court-martial me. Whatever it takes, I'm bringing you back, Michael.

“Sir, we will be entering the system in less than a minute.” Ensign Lacera announced as he managed the helm. Lt. Calvin entered from the turbolift and stood to the side. “Lieutenant, did you need something?”

“No, Captain, I wanted to observe the arrival at Spacedock.” Edgar explained. “I believe even the former captains regardless of actual rank still hold that privilege.”

“This is true.” Oren-De muttered, slightly annoyed at the inefficiency of an extra lieutenant doing nothing but taking up air on his bridge, especially one like Lieutenant Calvin. “Helm, take us out of warp.”

“Dropping out of warp now sir.” Lacera responded as he followed through his orders. The Pandora slowed to her previous impulse speed and the sight of Saturn and her moons appeared shortly after the transition completed. “Ship has been set to three-quarters impulse speed. We should arrive at Earth in ten minutes.”

“All hands, this is the captain. We will be docking at Earth Spacedock in less than ten minutes. All guests should have their belongings gathered and prepare to disembark.” Oren-De announced. Edgar muttered something under his breath. The comm. had shut off and the captain turned to the Lieutenant. “Did you have something to add, Lieutenant Calvin?”

“Apologies, sir, I was speaking out of line.” Edgar said, trying to dismiss his irritation.

“I didn’t hear it, repeat your comment.” Oren-De glared at him, finally having a point to establish hierarchy to the outspoken and insubordinate character.

“I was saying, sir, that was insulting. To imply that any survivors of a destroyed ship would have belongings is insulting to the thirty seconds that they had to get to the escape pods. The only possessions they would have are most likely their own lives.” Edgar said, expanding his comment and slashing at the assertion with a wicked tongue of truth and perspective. Oren-De held his ground while thinking about his discussions with War’en and Talona. This just seemed to frustrate him further.

“Then, perhaps you would like to say something before we arrive?” The Captain asked, almost hoping the Lieutenant would say no. He was ready for the next ten minutes to blink by and remove the lieutenant from his responsibility.

“If you don’t mind, sir, I would appreciate that.” Oren-De sighed and allowed Edgar to say his piece. “This is Lieutenant Calvin to all officers assigned to the New Orleans: It is my deepest regret that I speak to you this last time as your commanding officer. In thirty days time we have dealt with three of the most dangerous threats to the Federation, and we have survived. Our survival is not without consequence, however. In recollection, we should have never had to deal with these encounters ourselves, but fate did not smile upon us. As you continue your careers in Starfleet, look back on this with sobriety; your fellow crewmen and yourself could not have survived without your actions. Thank you for serving admirably under my command...Calvin out.”

Edgar looked around the bridge, noting he had danced a fancy speech and the bridge crew had taken notice, to some's irritation at the grand-standing while others seemed to sympathize. “Thank you for indulging me, Captain.”

“You’re welcome, Lieutenant.” Oren-De said from his chair, watching as Edgar moved to where Lt. Matoya was sitting. Shrel watched the approach carefully having heard of the abrasive interactions the two consistently had in the past. He leaned forward and almost whispered to her, “Lieutenant, I’m curious, was the information I provided in the interview sufficient for now?”

To say the question threw Maggie for a loop would be an understatement, and it showed on her face. “I...uh, well, I don’t think you can discuss them at this time, but thank you, Lieutenant.”

Edgar nodded and began to step away. He continued to speak quietly, “Understood. If it will help with your assignment, I can make a request to Admiral Giovanni to include you on the cleared shortlist for the remaining information. After such clearance is confirmed I will be more than willing to assist.”

Maggie was completely stunned as an eye almost began to twitch. As much resistance as she had been given before to have such eager cooperation now was practically antagonizing. “T-That would be appreciated. I look forward to hearing the result of the conversation.”

Edgar nodded with a smile. “I’ll be certain to keep you informed. Excuse me.”

As the remaining survivors of the New Orleans disembarked onto the spacedock, Edgar joined the bridge officers at the back of the line with Solek. He was far more jovial at this juncture than he was when he boarded the Pandora but his face still wore the sadness he felt for the lives lost under his command. As he stepped onto the spacedock he noticed two Starfleet uniforms that were clearly defined as affiliated with the JAG office with the unique pips they had. Eddie sighed and turned to his crew.

“Officers. This is where I leave you. Best of luck with your careers; keep in touch.” Edgar said to his senior staff as he approached the JAG officers. Solek looked on with concern as Desmond and Summer shared a disappointment. Turek and Aron-Mu just looked confused. Solek quickly moved the group out of the room to leave Edgar alone. He frowned, “I suspected you guys might be here.”

“Lieutenant Edgar Calvin, you are hereby detained for court-martial under Article 131 Section 12 Amendment 3 of the Starfleet Uniform Code.” The JAG officer announced. Edgar simply shook his head. “Come with us.”

((This marks the end of this episode! Stay tuned for the court-martial process and what Talona may be up to next!))