“Captain’s Log Stardate 12.339.21

The Maverick is presently on course for Deep Space 5 for refit and maintenance after spending two months participating in the disaster relief operations in Romulan space, following the onslaught of the Hobus supernova. During the ship’s time in DS5’s space dock, we will be conducting crew transfers, replenishing supplies and onboarding new equipment, before we return to the Frontier to resume our primary mission.

As we will be docked at DS5 for a week, I am accepting Counsellor Josiah Sanchez’s recommendation to grant shore leave to any member of the crew who wishes to make use of the time for some much-needed rest and recreation. The mission of the last two months has been both mentally and physically exhausting, with many crewmen beginning to show the strain of what they have witnessed in the aftermath of the disaster. According to Josiah, the current stress levels have resulted in an increased use of antidepressants, rising instances of sleeplessness and frequent bursts of short tempers.

While my senior officers might claim I am always short-tempered, the truth is I share their sentiments.

Even though Federation relations with the Romulans have never been warm, one cannot feel anything but horror at the sight of the destruction in what was formerly Romulan territory. With the casualty rate numbering in the billions, the scale of the disaster is staggering. The shockwave caused by the Hobus supernova, exacerbated by ancient Iconian technology has resulted in the near total destruction of the Romulan Empire. The obliteration of Romulus and most of its habited planets have left the territory completely uninhabitable with vast debris fields occupying the space where planets used to be.

One needed no further proof than the fact that the Romulans asked for Federation help inside their territory to realise the full scope of the catastrophe. In the past, Romulan arrogance would have made such a request unthinkable and yet they pleaded for help to salvage what was left of their fragmenting society. It is painful to watch a once proud people broken so completely when in the past, the Romulans were the pinnacle of military superiority.

Now, only the outermost bases along the Romulan Neutral Zone have survived the disaster, becoming refugee centres for what remains of the Romulan people. At this time, an emergency meeting has been scheduled between the Federation, the Klingons and the remains of the Romulan senate at Khitomer to determine what happens next. The destruction of the Romulan Empire has resulted in a significant shift in the Alpha Quadrant and it’s anyone’s guess where we go from here.

******

Well, you have a choice gentlemen,” Hannibal Julius drawled languidly in his eastern accent as he faced the three men, while astride his horse, a gloriously sleek white Arabian stallion. The thoroughbred, wholly impatient at having to stand in place, stamped its hooves against the hard packed dirt of the New Mexico landscape, as its master continued his parlance with the Man in Black.

“What choice is that?” Chris Larabee asked, equally relaxed despite the tense situation he found himself in. Sitting astride his own black gelding, he stared back at Julius in challenge. Next, to him, Buck Wilmington glowered at Julius, seething with resentment at the man’s past deeds, his fingers resting lightly on the butt of his Remington Single Action. On Chris’ left, Ezra Standish, dressed in his familiar burgundy coat and embroidered waistcoat, was content to let his leader do the talking for the moment.

Julius, who was accompanied by an entourage of four men, showed no signs of intimidation despite Chris’ hard glare and Buck’s readiness to draw as the two groups faced each other across the narrow space between their horses. They were presently in an overgrown field, surrounded by waist high stalks of golden grass, with nothing but gnarled trees and a lone water tower in the distance to bear witness to their meeting. Above them, the afternoon sun blazed with unforgiving heat as buzzards and other carrion eaters circled the air, anticipating the feeding to come once the shooting started.

Chris studied Julius carefully, having sized up the man long before this day thanks to their rather complicated history. An aristocratic sort of European stock, Julius appeared foppish in his fancy clothes and top hat, even though the mind behind the tinted sunglasses was nothing so benign. It was easy to underestimate him when he looked so out of place in the rough and tumble landscape of the Territory, except there was madness behind his dark eyes.

In contrast, the men who rode with him were nowhere as refined. They all bore the look of hired guns one might have rounded up from some hole in the wall enclave like Purgatorio. Unlike Julius who didn't seem all that formidable, the men at his side gave Chris more cause for concern than their employer.

“Return my shipment of nitro to me or your lady loves will pay the price for your defiance. I’m sure by now, you know we’ve managed to procure them from that charming little town of you men defend like flu-ridden bloodhounds.”

Chris didn’t react to the insult although he noted Buck’s fingers had slid over the grip of the Remington, ready to draw.

“No deal,” Chris shook his head as if the threat meant nothing. “We know what you’re planning to do with that nitro and it ain’t going to happen. We’ll find the girls ourselves. We don’t need you for that.”

As he said those words, Chris could see the ripple of tension and aggression moving through Julius men as they also made subtle shifts in their body language, signalling their readiness to fight.

Julius didn’t seem fazed by Chris’ response, throwing a sidelong glance at his men to stand down for the moment because the Man in Black didn’t know what he did, and Julius was happy to educate him.

“This is a big country Lieutenant,” Julius sneered using the word ‘Lieutenant’, aware Chris Larabee didn’t much care for it. Instead, he reached into his grey waistcoat and produced a gold pocket watch he flipped open with dramatic flair before responding, “And frankly the ladies do not have that much time. In fact, I wager if you don’t find them in two hours, you won’t be finding them at all.”

“What does that mean?” Buck demanded, not liking the sound of that at all. Buck was never tolerant of any threats made to the female of the species.

“It means that it would be a shame for the lovely Mrs Travis, Doctor Styles and Miss Pemberton to come to a bad end. Give us the nitro in two hours or I guarantee you, when you find them, you’ll need a shovel to pick up the pieces.”

“Well that ain’t going to happen,” Buck returned. “You best tell us where they are right now and we won’t put a bullet in your head.”

Once again, Julius shot his men a warning not to react at Buck’s provocation. Turning to Chris, he repeated himself. “I had hoped we could be reasonable about this. Ezra,” Julius regarded the gambler for the first time, “talk to your friends.”

Ezra, astride his own horse Chaucer, snorted derisively. “My associates do not respond well to blackmail and I caution you making further threats to our respective paramours, such actions will only result in you being delivered a slow, painful death as opposed to an efficiently swift one.”

“Oh Ezra,” Julius shook his head in disappointment, “you had a chance to join me. I could have given you the world or rather placed you at my right hand when I ruled it.”

Ezra who was very well aware of what joining Julius would mean, beyond the shift in his allegiances, cleared his throat and replied promptly. “I’m afraid my tastes don’t go that way Julius but I am flattered.”

“Your loss,” Julius shrugged and then added wickedly. “Or it will be in two hours. It’s a pity Ms Pemberton will not be around to satiate that particular taste.”

“Okay, I’ve had enough of this.” Chris said finally, brushing the rim of his black hat as if adjusting its position on his head.

BANG!

The gunshot cracked through the air like a clap of thunder and the man next to Julius was thrown out of his saddle, as the horses started to panic. As he crushed the tall stalks upon landing, a bloom of red began to spread across his chest. The expanding stain of crimson soiled the shirt he was wearing.

As Julius’ men went for their guns, Chris, Buck and Ezra already poised to draw, went for theirs as another distant crack was heard. This time, the man on the side of Julius’ ride caught the bullet and like the first, was thrown out of his saddle from the force of it. He landed on his back, splayed across the ground with blood spilling out of the newly formed bullet hole in his forehead.

From his vantage point at the water tower, Vin Tanner prepared his next shot and this time, it was Hannibal Julius who sat in his crosshairs. The tracker had taken up position before this meeting, waiting for the signal to act.

“So, this is how it’s going to be,” Chris said, taking the opportunity to renegotiate with a new set of demands. “You’re going to tell us where the girls are, or Vin back there is going to cover your men with your brains...”

******

“Who kills a person like this?” Alexandra Tanner, formerly Styles complained as she squinted to keep the bright glare of the noonday sun out of her eyes. Overhead, the cloudless sky allowed simulated desert conditions to blaze like a furnace with heat prickling the skin on her cheek, creating beads of sweat under her hair. Thanks to the authenticity of the program, the air was dry and dusty, making this whole experience all the more insufferable.

“Well for obvious reasons they can’t make our impending deaths too quick,” Mary Travis, who was lying next to Alex, pointed this out as if it were the most reasonable explanation in the world.

“It has to be an unnecessarily long and complicated method to allow the men to get here and rescue us.”

“Exactly,” Julia Pemberton chimed in from the other side of Mary. “Remember that time, we were tied to a conveyor belt that was a mile long, rushing to meet our ends at the huge buzz saw?”

“That’s right,” Mary recalled that particular chapter of the program, “the one where Guy Royal kidnapped us both. Rain joined us for that one.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Buzzsaw?”

“It’s what they used to cut wood,” Julia explained helpfully.

“I could get us out of here in two minutes,” Alex grumbled, shifting position slightly because a particularly jagged piece of rock was digging into her shoulder.

“That’s not in the spirit of the game,” Julia pointed out, smirking inwardly as she wondered how much longer it would take before the Science Officer of the Maverick finally lost her patience with this scenario and extricate herself from their current predicament.

“Don’t I know it?” Alex sighed, having adjusted her position just enough to be spared further irritation.

At present, all three women were lying together side by side across a stretch of railway track, somewhere in the New Mexico desert, bound by their wrists and ankles to the metal rails with thick, hessian ropes. Surrounding them on either side was nothing but the vast emptiness of the American west. It was a harsh, rocky terrain with sparse vegetation, mountains in the distance with the occasional critter, being either a scorpion, snake or lizard scampering by them at regular intervals.

To maintain the authenticity of the program, they were dressed in costumes of the period which was rather insufferable in the heat and even more uncomfortable in their present circumstances. As always, Mary managed to look amazing, with her white gold hair swept up in a neat bun and floral print dress with the heart shaped neckline while Julia’s more extravagant affair of deep blue satin offered striking contrasts to her creamy skin and copper coloured hair. Alex, who played the town doctor, had opted for simpler fare, wearing a long dark skirt, a white shirt with a dark red waist coat.

“How did Vin convince you to join us in this program anyway?” Mary asked, aware from previous experience Alex did not much care for Buck’s favourite holodeck program. The first time Alex had participated in the program, she had complained so much it was decided it was probably best that she declined further invitations.

“I’m obligated to be here by marriage,” Alex muttered.

Mary laughed at that, unsurprised by Alex’s admission. After two months of marriage, Vin Tanner and Alexandra Styles were still very much newlyweds. When they weren’t on duty or socialising with the senior staff, they were usually locked away in their quarters, lost in each other, exploring the new aspect of their relationship, finally given expression because of Vin’s premature Pon Farr. Still, Mary observed, their marriage had gone a long way to healing some of the traumas both Alex and Vin had suffered in their pasts and they seemed much happier for it.

“Oh really,” Julia said with a smirk, lifting her head just high enough to look past Alex to meet Mary’s gaze with a decided wicked gleam in her eyes. “Do tell how he managed to convince you?”

Alex who was perfectly aware of what Julia was alluding to said with a satisfied smirk, “let’s just say there’s a lot to be said about Vulcan stamina.”

All three women burst out laughing and did not stop for a good minute.

“Oh, my,” Mary said with a sigh once they’d caught their breaths. “I’d forgotten about that.”

Mary, who had been married to a Vulcan, recalled exactly what Alex was talking about. During her marriage to Syan, the limitations of Vulcan society had never been a problem when it came to their marriage bed. For a race seemingly aloof and rigid, intimacy for Vulcans did not just involve the pleasure of the flesh, it included a mental component that intensified the bond between mates and created a vital emotional link during the process. When Syan had died, she’d lost that connection and it was only until after meeting Chris Larabee, it had been re-established, albeit with less intensity because he was human.

“So, does that mean you’ll be joining us on these escapades from now on?” Julia asked grinning.

“It depends,” Alex lifted her head so she could meet Mary and Julia’s eyes.

“On what?” Mary asked.

“How often he gets up on his elbows to ask.” Alex winked prompting another burst of giggles from Mary and Julia that went on for another full minute.

They were still laughing when suddenly, Alex felt something against her spine that silenced her quickly. Her brow knitted in concentration and she glanced over at Mary and Julia to see if they had noticed the same thing.

“Hey, do you feel that?”

Mary and Julia felt equally quiet, concentrating. Above head, the carrion eaters continued to circle them, cawing periodically in annoyance that they weren’t dead yet. It didn’t take either woman long to discover what Alex had brought to their attention. So far, the vibration was low but they could feel it travelling through the gravel they were lying against, slipping through their skin before settling into their bones. Meanwhile, Alex noticed the fine dust covering the smooth metal rail of the tracks, shifting.

It required no feat of genius for the trio to realise what was happening when the soundless vibration intensified into an insistent buzzing that caused the gravel in the rock ballasts to shake and shudder across the ground. As the vibration travelled up the lengths of steel track, the sound of massive pistons chugging away in staccato rhythm soon travelled down the narrow pass, a prelude to the iron beast closing in on them.

“Oh no,” Julia groaned as she heard in the background, the screeching wail of a train whistle.

******

“Captain, I think we may be a little more behind schedule than we originally anticipated in our rescue of the ladies,” Ezra hollered at Chris as the four riders on horseback galloped towards the pass where Julia and the other ladies were playing damsels in distress.

“You think?” Chris grumbled, strongly suspecting that if he didn’t get there in time to save Mary from being crushed by a train, the Protocol Officer might take some offense at that.

After all, she was good enough to humour him by participating in the Magnificent Seven Program, playing the plucky, newspaper editor who was the primary love interest for the Man in Black. As it stood, there was little for females to do in the program, other than playing romantic interests or pawns to use against the seven and while Mary and Julia had been good sports about participating, Christ only knew what miracle Vin had managed to perform to get Alex to join them this time around.

“I wouldn’t worry Chris,” Vin drawled, as they approach the mouth of the canyon in which the girls were trapped. “I mean if we’re late, the girls will just get themselves out of trouble. I can’t see Alex waiting around for a rescue if there’s a train bearing down on them.”

Only Vin knew how he’d convinced Alex to join them on this occasion and while the method of his argument brought a smile to his face, he also knew Alex would play the scenario to a point. She considered the program sexist and wouldn’t stand on ceremony by waiting for rescue when a holographic train was about to crush her.

“Actually,” Buck Wilmington declared, wearing a grin on his face at the little bit of alteration he’d done to the program. “I locked out the girls’ authorisation from the program”

“WHAT?” Captain, Officer of the Con and the Security Chief exploded in unison.

“It was a joke!” Buck explained as he saw the three men staring at him in something akin to horror. “I mean how often do we get Alex in here? You know the minute she gets antsy waiting for us to show up, she’s just going to get herself out of trouble. Where’s the fun in that? I mean Mary and Julia will wait for us to show up but Alex won’t. I figured, this way, she’d have to sit still and wait for us to show up and rescue them.”

“Captain!” Vin said to Chris as the canyon walls surrounded them and the sound of a locomotive started to echo through the passage. “Permission to shoot the First Officer!”

Chris shot Buck a dark look and replied, “go ahead.”

TWO HOURS LATER...

Deep Space Five lay before them in resplendent beauty. Its superstructure resembled a hexagonal prism, with a central hub that was a bejewelled orb of myriad lights against its pigeon blue hull plating. Playing the part of the court to the hub were five docking ports, each surrounded by its own entourage of ships including smaller Starfleet vessels, private carriers and of course, commercial freighters running cargo across the sector. They hailed from all corners of the Alpha Quadrant, Vulcan, Pakled, Nybrite and even Andorian.

Chris took note of the two Starfleet vessels spread across the spread of docking ports. In comparison to the Maverick, the Archer class Obama was a smaller ship but definitely possessed more manoeuvrability while the intrepid class, was a wolverine, small, quick, and bearing sharp teeth. He made a mental note to check in with the two ships and their captains to thank them for maintaining the vigil on the Frontier while the Maverick had been seconded to Romulus these past two months.

“Captain, we’re being hailed by Captain Krista of DS5,” Comms officer, Ensign JD Dunne announced from his station at the head of the bridge.

“On screen,” Chris answered automatically before he glanced at the empty seat beside him where Mary should have been and tossed Buck a scowl in accusation. In turn, Buck Wilmington groaned inwardly, suspecting he was going to be in Chris’s doghouse for some time for what took place in the holodeck.

“Chris,” Captain Krista smiled across the viewer. Her blue Illidarian skin appeared almost translucent as she stared at him through eyes reflecting like diamonds with a thousand facets. “It’s good to see you and the Maverick back this way again. We’ve missed having our big junkyard dog on patrol.”

Chris laughed at the description, forgetting, for now, Buck’s trespasses. “Good to see you too Captain. Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

Since the Maverick’s assignment to the Frontier, it had become something of a tradition for the Captain and First Officer of the Maverick to share a meal with the master of DS5, to catch up on news and rumours floating about the sector. On the most recent occasions, they were joined by the Protocol Officer who had developed a close friendship with Captain Krista.

“Of course,” Krista said smoothly and raised a brow, “At 1900 hours as usual. I will expect you and Commander Wilmington. Will Lt Travis be joining us?”

“I’m not sure,” Chris replied, still bristling with annoyance the stunt Buck had pulled on the three senior female officers on the Maverick. “Thanks to Buck, I’m not her favourite person right now.” The bridge crew’s familiarity with their counterparts on DS5 had made banter like this old hat and it served to connect the two crews together, to be able to laugh at the absurd.

“It was a joke!” Buck hissed in exasperation.

“Yeah,” Vin grumbled from his seat at the Con.

“We’re all laughing.”

“Wanna trade?” Chris gave Krista a wicked smirk.

Krista laughed, “No thanks. You can keep him.”

“I was afraid of that,” Chris returned. “How've things been out this way since we’ve been gone?”

Although the Saratoga and the Obama had taken up duties of patrolling the Frontier during their departure, the smaller Intrepid class ships were nowhere as intimidating as a galaxy class starship with cloak capability, designed for the specific purpose of fighting the Borg. The Maverick’s formidable reputation was also cemented by the actions of her Captain, particularly in the last days of the Dominion War when it took on and prevailed against ten enemy ships on its own.

“It’s been relatively quiet,” Krista answered. “Honestly, I still think everyone is reeling from what’s happened at Romulus. I saw the Starfleet communique. Is it as bad as what’s been reported?”

The light atmosphere of a few moments ago vanished, to be replaced by the heavy pall of reality. While Chris could not see the faces of Vin Tanner and JD Dunne, he did exchange glances with Ezra Standish and Buck Wilmington who shared his haunted expression. Thinking about the vast debris field where planets should have been, the wreckage of civilisation dispersed throughout the area had made his stomach hollow.

“It’s worse.”

Krista shook her head. “The Romulans have always been guilty of something but I can’t imagine the destruction of their entire homeworld as a justified means of punishment.”

For a few seconds, nothing was said as the bridge held a silent memorial for their respected enemy before Krista spoke up again. “Actually Chris, I was asking after Mary because something’s come up.”

“Oh?” Chris asked, wondering what it could be and trying to determine if he ought to intervene at all or wait until the two women faced each other. “She’s off duty at the moment but I can get her up here if you like.”

Actually, he missed her presence on the bridge next to him but he wasn’t about to voice it to anyone. Chris had become so used to seeing Mary occupying the protocol officer’s seat next to him, it felt odd when she was not there. Since the day he took his command chair, it felt only right to have Buck at his right hand and Mary on his left. When even one of them was gone, it felt almost incomplete. No doubt, Mary would have a counter to this argument but hey, Chris was only human.

Krista who was aware of the romantic relationship taking place between the Captain and the Protocol Officer of the Maverick shook her head in response. “Well I leave it up to you how you want to handle it but it appears she has a visitor at the station who hasn’t made any formal application to come on board the Maverick.”

“Ezra,” Chris tossed his Security Chief a look. “You know anything about this?”

“Not at all Captain,” Ezra Standish replied, perplexed. It was his duty to vet any visitor coming on board the Maverick, largely because he assumed everyone was guilty of something and it was his job to decide if their guilt translated into a threat to the ship. “Lt. Travis has made no application to my department for any visitors to come on board.”

“Apparently, the visit is a surprise,” Krista quickly added to allay any concerns as she felt this lack of request was an oversight made by civilians who had no idea how Starfleet worked. “While I hate to be the one to ruin the excitement, we both know the procedure for visitors.”

“Absolutely,” Chris agreed with her. “Thanks, Krista, we can take it from here. Who is the visitor anyway?”

“It’s Adelaide Travis. I believe she’s Mary’s mother.”

******

This is war you know,” Alex declared to Mary when they had met up on their way to the bridge to begin their shifts. In the background, the turbo lift punctuated its journey in dull, rhythmic hums.

“Remember,” Mary cautioned. “He is the First Officer.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed. “And I have a Class 1 - Advanced Programmer Rating. I will think of something to make him pay.”

“Just no loss of life or limb please,” Mary laughed, fully supporting Alex’s dastardly machinations otherwise. She knew Julia Pemberton, presently in Engineering had entertained ideas of dropping Buck into the warp core.

“I have one particular limb in mind,” Alex smirked, “but I’m afraid the rest of the women on the Maverick would riot.”

It had taken nothing less than an alien possession of her body for Alex to have sex with Buck Wilmington. She wondered what the rest of womankind’s excuse was.

Mary laughed. “Actually I’m more annoyed they didn’t rescue us in time. If I am to play the damsel in distress, I would at least expect my prince to be on time.”

“I’m not mad at Vin,” Alex admitted, “because he would have been expecting me to break out of there long before any train arrived. Just because he’s convinced me to participate in the program, he knows I’m doing it under protest...”

“Or under him.”

Both Alex and Mary burst out laughing as the doors to the turbo lift slid open.

“You ladies seemed to be in a better mood,” Ezra remarked when they both stepped onto the bridge. “Pray tell, what is the joke?”

“Oh, nothing worth discussing,” Mary exchanged a knowing look with Alex, fairly convinced the Science Officer would not wish her new husband embarrassed by discussing their sex life so publicly.

“Mary,” Chris was glad she was in a better mood than after they had exited the program. In fact, he was glad to see her smiling again, to say nothing of her glorious golden hair worn loose after its confinement in the severe bun for her holodeck persona. “Feeling better?”

“Yes,” Mary said moving gracefully into her seat next to him, giving him a look of warmth to imply he was not in trouble. “There’s nothing that cannot be cured with a hot shower and some quiet meditation.”

Buck Wilmington on the other hand...

“Buck.” The greeting was offered in a tone slightly above freezing.

“Aw come on,” Buck declared, unable to bear it anymore. “It was a joke!”

“Commander,” Alex said from her science station. “Sleep with one eye open.”

Vin glanced over his shoulder and saw Alex winking at him, a small intimate gesture to let him know she wasn’t mad at him. Of course, she would make him pay for convincing her to put up with the stupid program in the first place but she could let him in on that later.

“How was I supposed to know we were going to be late getting to you?” Buck continued to argue his case. “We were supposed to be there long before the train arrives.”

“Uh Commander Wilmington,” Ezra spoke up, not impressed with Buck bringing up that part of the incident since the ladies had forgotten it was their tardiness that resulted in their unfortunate experience. “I do not think we need to dwell on every minutia of the situation.”

“Yeah,” Chris growled, “let’s discontinue that line of reasoning, shall we?”

Buck catching Chris’ meaning fell silent immediately and tried a different tact. “I mean it wasn’t that bad?”

“Wasn’t that bad?” Alex declared. “THE TRAIN RAN OVER US!”

While the holographic locomotive had not crushed them into ten thousand small pieces, they were forced to lie there as the train passed over them, covering them in smoke and dust while being pelted by fragments of stone ballast running down the length of the rail. By the time the train had chugged away, all three of them were covered head to toe in the stuff, not to mention dealing with a pulse rate that would have made them the envy of any cheetah at full sprint.

“But you’re still here....” Buck grinned at them.

“Stop talking Buck,” Chris replied, unable to sit by and watch his old friend continue to dig himself a deeper hole. “Just stop talking.”

“Fine,” Buck conceded defeat and decided he had better sleep armed for the next week.

“Mary,” Chris said on a more serious note. “We were just notified by Captain Krista, you have a guest waiting to come on board the Maverick to see you.”

“A guest?” Mary frowned, hoping it was not one of Syan’s relatives. They already disapproved of her taking Billy off Vulcan and into the belly of a starship. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

“I am afraid I must be the one to ruin the surprise,” Ezra spoke up, sparing his captain the task. “Your guest did not follow procedure so I am unable to maintain the secrecy for your benefit.”

“That’s fine,” Mary puzzled, expecting no less from Ezra under such circumstances. “Who is it?”

Chris flashed Ezra a look of thanks before taking over. “It’s your mother.”

“WHAT?”

Everyone jumped at her outburst as Chris saw the expression of dismay on her face, almost akin to panic. Mary’s mind was presently being flooded with memories of the nameless terror about to rip through her comfortable, ordered existence like a disruptor blast.

“What is it?” Chris reached for her arm, genuinely alarmed by the colour draining out of her face.

“Mary, calm down,” Alex spoke up, fully aware of why Mary was panicking. “It may not be that bad.”

Vin met his wife’s gaze, burning with curiosity at what Alex obviously knew but the rest of the bridge did not. The Science Officer could only shrug, having no desire to break Mary’s trust by revealing too much. In the last year they had served together, Mary and Alex had become close friends and confidantes, allowing their friendship to achieve enough familiarity for her to understand why such new struck cold fear in Mary’s heart.

“Are you kidding me?”

Mary’s outburst stunned Chris and the rest of the bridge who was used to seeing her as the personification of elegance and grace. If there was one person Chris could rely upon to keep a cool head when everything was going to pieces, it was Mary. Seeing her like this was like discovering a new facet of her he had never known before and he wondered what other secrets she kept beneath her blue-grey eyes.

Although truth be told, now that he considered it, Mary rarely spoke about her own family. While their relationship was semi-intimate for more than a year, Chris had to admit, Mary never spoke about the family she left on Earth when she married Syan. Even in discussions about family, Mary often deferred to her dead husband’s relatives as opposed to her own flesh and blood. Chris had not wanted to pry but after seeing this reaction, rebuked himself for not trying to learn more before now.

“Aren’t you looking forward to seeing your ma, Mary?” JD Dunne risked asking because his mother had died shortly before he graduated Starfleet Academy and he still missed her presence in his life. Even now, with this extended family on the Maverick, the hole she left in his heart was sizeable.

“No,” Mary shook her head dazed. “I'm really not.”

Ezra who was starting to get an inkling of the problem, having been raised by Maude Standish, spoke up helpfully. “Mary, may I venture a guess your maternal situation bears some resemblance to mine?”

Maude’s flamboyance was hard enough to take when he went to visit the woman on Risa with Julia, Ezra could not imagine anything more terrifying than having Maude have free run of the ship, mingling with his security team, his comrades and worst yet, his captain.

Mary was considering whether or not informing Ezra her mother was wanted for crimes across the quadrant to be a breach in protocol, when she realised Adelaide would still manage to find her way to the ship, no matter what Mary did do prevent it.

“My mother’s professional name is Adelaide Sheridan,” Mary finally volunteered, the words escaping her like the pounding of nails into a coffin.

“THE Adelaide Sheridan?” Ezra’s eyes widened. “The stage actress? The celebrated actress who performed Lady Macbeth and was one of the few actors allowed to perform in the Klingon Empire? Who is in demand for command performances across the Alpha Quadrant a once played Masha in Chekov’s Three Sisters for the Tholians?”

“Don’t tell me you’re a fan?” Mary was aghast at the thought, suddenly developing a preview of what this visit was going to be like.

“Not at all,” Ezra straightened up, feigning indifference too late because Buck, JD and Vin were grinning at him in obvious disbelief at his statement.

While Chris knew of the woman’s celebrity, it did not explain Mary’s extreme reaction to her mother coming on board. So Mary had a famous mother, what was the big deal?

“Mary, it’s just a five-day visit,” Chris assured her. “It can’t be that bad?”

Mary gave him a look that said otherwise before volunteering, “my mother can be overwhelming.”

Chris had the sneaking suspicion if they were alone, Mary might explode into a full-blown tirade that would make her one-word description seem infinitesimal. “How overwhelming?”

“Oh, I think I have an idea,” Ezra’s temporary bout of star-struck diminishing in light of Mary’s use of that word. How many times had he used it himself? If Mary’s mother was Adelaide Sheridan who was a galactically famous celebrity, lauded in almost every corner of the Alpha Quadrant then the word overwhelming might be stratospherically inadequate.

“Look, it will be fine,” Chris assured her. “I’ll be around if you need me.”

“Uh Mary,” Alex cleared her throat. “Have you told your mother about....” she shifted her gaze at the Captain.

Chris bristled, wondering if they had suddenly forgotten he was the Captain. However, now that Alex mentioned it, Chris turned to Mary, waiting for an answer.

“No,” Mary replied, giving him a look of apology. “I wanted to spare you.”

“Spare me?” He stared at her feeling somewhat underestimated. “Mary I’m a starship captain, I’ve dealt with Cardassian Guls, cosmic entities, alien queens, I think I can handle one stage actress.”

Mary snorted, “And you’d still be in trouble.”

Counsellor Josiah Sanchez sat in his office, trying to dispel the tangle of knots his stomach had become in the last hour. Through the window of his office, he gained a panoramic view of Deep Space Five as the Maverick approached the space station for its scheduled maintenance check. Normally, he would pause and enjoy the ship’s leisurely approach to DS5. The sight of ships already docked at the numerous ports, small shuttles, runabouts and the maintenance crews in their EV suits conducting external hull repairs, whizzing about like fireflies were breathtaking.

For something held suspended in the vacuum of space where no life should exist, the space station was teeming with it and Josiah relished taking it all in. Just like he enjoyed every minute of his assignment on the Maverick, more than he ever imagined he would. When Chris Larabee had convinced him to come on board the Maverick as Ship’s counsellor, a part of Josiah knew he was indulging in the youthful fantasies of space travel he’d been forced to abandon when he became a husband and a father.

Not that Josiah regretted the sacrifice in the slightest. His life with Ayla and two daughters had been perfect and if not for his wife’s passing, Josiah would never have left Earth. Yet Ayla did pass and with Mara and Safia all grown up, he spent the year after her death going through the motions, mourning the sunset years they would not see out together. It would have probably continued that way if not for the Battle of Sector 001. The massive casualty lists following the Borg’s invasion of Earth had him pulled off his research and administrative role to take on more hands-on duties for the crisis.

It placed Josiah in the position to offer counsel to a newly promoted captain who’d been badly injured after standing by Jean Luc Picard and helped turn the tide of the battle in favour of Earth.

Although he loved both his daughters, Josiah could not deny he’d always wanted a son even though fate had decided otherwise. Yet when he met Chris Larabee, he was drawn to the younger man and his tales of adventures, his love of exploration and the stars, amidst a tremendous personal tragedy. If anything, Chris’ situation touched a chord with Josiah and their relationship soon evolved beyond a counsellor-patient dynamic to become a real friendship. In a way Josiah did not expect, Chris satisfied his unfulfilled need for a son just as surely as he filled the void left behind by Chris’ deceased father.

When Chris invited him to join the Maverick as it’s counsellor, the idea seemed insane. He was hardly a young man and hadn’t logged any star time in twenty years and yet, he could not ignore how compelling the possibilities were. To start a new chapter of his life by doing something for himself he never had a chance to explore because of circumstances. When Josiah asked himself what Ayla would say if he were to ask his counsel, he knew exactly what her advice would be.

Grab on Josiah. Grab on and ride the wind.

And he had. Despite the perils that accompanied life on a starship on the edge of Federation space, he was proud of the work he did here. From helping Chris come into his captaincy, to being adviser to Mary Travis who literally had to rediscover her humanity after being a Vulcan wife for so many years, he helped them through the transition and was inordinately pleased by the tentative attraction that was now a fully formed relationship.

Speaking of relationships, nothing made him prouder to stand in as the father of the bride at the recent wedding of Alexandra Styles and Vin Tanner. It was the culmination of what had been a difficult healing process for Alex who’d been a victim of horrific rape and torture during her incarceration at the hands of the Cardassians prior to the war with the Dominion. Alex had come on board the Maverick wounded and broken and yet somehow, she’d managed to develop a deep connection to the displaced Vulcan Vin Tanner.

Vin, a Vulcan orphan found by human parents before their unfortunate crash landing on an uninhabited planet, had been raised without any of the mental or social disciplines of his people. Added to the fact, he spent five years alone on a rustic planet after his human parents had died, left him socially stunted, unable to fit in anywhere. Somehow, he and Alex had found each other and Josiah was glad in some small part, he’d help them realise their life together.

The truth was, the bridge crew of the USS Maverick weren’t just his comrades, they were his friends. After facing omnipotent beings, fighting off Jem’Hadar raiding parties and body jumping alien entities, he’d become a part of a whole he hadn’t felt since Ayla died.

Until he received the communication this morning from his daughter Mara, accusing him of ignoring his family.

Josiah and Ayla had spoilt Mara, he knew that. She was their first child and like all new parents. indulged the girl more than they should have. While she wasn’t a tantrum-throwing spitfire, she did tend to be somewhat self-absorbed. When he announced his decision to sign on board the Maverick, it was Mara who had the most difficulty with it and although she eventually capitulated to his decision, Josiah suspected she’d only done so because she expected him to come to his senses eventually.

Which of course he hadn’t.

Listening to her message for the dozenth time, Josiah knew she wasn’t playing fair but she did bring up a rather important point and for the first time in a year, he had to consider whether he was really done with his familial responsibilities. The idea of leaving the Maverick felt unimaginable but after listening to Mara’s message, he realised he had no choice but to consider it.

Because he was going to be a grandfather.

******

It was a sad thing for Nathan Jackson to admit that despite being the Chief Medical Officer of the Maverick, recognised authority on Borg nanotechnology, author of countless medical papers, he was being defeated by a question whose answer he was certain he already knew. Sitting alone at a table in Four Corners, he scrolled through her personnel file, reading information he already knew because they’d talked about it over numerous dinners, holodeck outings and one rather unfortunate attempt at camping.

Note to self, 24th-century women whatever their background or species, do not like being in any situation where there was a possibility of bugs in sleeping bags.

Truth be told until he met her, there had been way too much time spent eating lonely meals in his Sick Bay or laboratory, where personal interaction was mostly limited to his patients, and socialising never seemed quite important as getting his work done. All that had changed when she walked into his office complaining about a neural attack they would eventually discover to be an alien invasion of the Maverick. Within the first five minutes of seeing her wild, wild hair, Nathan knew his very ordered existence was just shot to hell.

The first time she’d taken him into her bed, he, a goddamn medical doctor had been a nervous wreck while she, a Trill who’d lived a dozen lives had ignored all his inhibitions and made the night amazing. Nathan spent the next week with a smile on his face Buck Wilmington had labelled ‘the getting lucky smile’ that almost induced Nathan to infect the man with a case of Klingon herpes, out of sheer annoyance.

Much of his current soul-searching had to do with their recent mission to Romulus. Being a doctor, he was one of a dozen medical teams sifting through the wreckage, treating survivors. The scale of death was unlike anything he’d ever seen and he’d been there at Wolf 359 and the Battle of Sector 001. During those conflicts, the casualties were mostly Starfleet personnel, who went into the fire knowing what to expect. Death was a possibility when one embarked on a career in Starfleet because, despite all their technology, space was dangerous. It was a reality they all faced.

At Romulus, almost all the casualties were civilians. People who had no idea the end was coming, aware only when it was upon them, there was nowhere to run for the scant minutes they had to prepare. They died in their beds, on their way to work, in their offices, with their children and loved ones, or alone. The survivors, what little of them were left, looked like wraiths. As if someone had taken a blade to them and scooped out everything inside.

Nathan remembered burying her face in her arms, after treating a woman who’d lost her entire family because she chose to travel to work on the outer colonies, unaware her husband and five children would die a fiery death. She’d held him in her arms, whispering soft things as he unleashed all the sorrow hidden behind hours of medical detachment.

At that moment, Nathan Jackson realised he didn’t just like the girl, he loved her.

So now here he was, trying to decide if six months was too short a time to propose to a woman when he’d barely had a relationship that got past the gate before this. He wanted to talk to Josiah about it but when he’d gone to see the Counsellor, the man seemed somewhat distracted and the other person to best talk to about women, Buck Wilmington, was an idiot.

“You know Senor, looking at your girlfriend’s personnel file while sitting alone is never a good sign.”

When Inez Recillos, the sultry bartender of Four Corners, the ship’s favourite watering hole sighted the doctor at a table by himself, it sparked her interest. At this time of day, Four Corners was mostly empty with most of the off-duty crew too busy to frequent the place when they were making shore leave plans as the Maverick approached DS5.

Nathan immediately put down the data pad at the realisation he’d been doing just that as he wrestled with his decision. “Sorry, I just have some serious thinking to do.”

“Anything I can help with?” Inez asked. With Four Corners relatively empty, she could take the time to talk. Inez liked the quiet, reserved doctor who always had a sympathetic ear for everyone and right now, looked like he could use the same for himself.

“I’m not sure,” he eyed her hesitantly. Inez had lost her fiancé Raphael Castille, the Captain of the Venture when his ship had been destroyed at the Battle of Cardassia Prime, in the last days of the Dominion War. It had taken her months to come to terms with her grief and Nathan wasn’t certain if it was wise bringing up what was on his mind.

“Come on Senor,” she sat down. “Let me try.”

Against his better judgement, Nathan gave in. “I’m thinking of proposing to Rain.”

Inez broke out into a wide smile, “Nathan that’s wonderful!” She leaned over and hugged him.

“So you don’t think it’s too soon?” He asked, encouraged by her response. “I’m sitting here, trying to figure out if I’m rushing things. I mean things have been going great between us so far but after the last two months, I figured out that I can’t do without her.”

“If you know that in your heart,” Inez squeezed his arm, “then it’s not too soon.”

There was no doubt in her mind after seeing Nathan and Rain together, that the duo was very much in love with each other. Rain’s charming and snappy personality was the perfect complement to Nathan’s somewhat shy, reserved manner. Like every scientist before him, Nathan tended to become lost in his work, sacrificing a social life that didn’t extend beyond his interaction with the command staff.

The entry of Rain into his world had changed all that, with the doctor making a belated debut into the social fabric of the Maverick.

“Thank you,” Nathan replied, grateful for the advice. While he wasn’t exactly a novice at relationships but this one was the first to last beyond a few dates. Then again, everything about Rain had made what came before pale in comparison. this was the first one of substance in his life. “I guess my mind was made up but I needed to know I wasn’t being crazy or impulsive.”

“Sometimes being crazy and impulsive is not such a bad thing,” Inez said with a bittersweet smile. She and Raphael had been engaged for years even though they loved each other from childhood. It felt as if they had been waiting their whole lives to be man and wife only to have that dream cruelly snatched away within hair’s breadth of achieving it.

“Sometimes, you can lose your chance by waiting too long.”

Nathan’s eyes softened. “I guess you can. You okay?” The healer in him immediately kicked in seeing the gleam of sorrow in her eyes.

“I am,” Inez shook off the moment. She still felt pain but it was nowhere as acute as it had been. In the first few months, it had nearly crippled her but eventually, the pain bled away from excruciating, to tolerable and was now settled on ache. She supposed eventually, it would diminish into distant. “I still have my moments, I won’t lie but I am better.”

“I’m glad,” he leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for the talk Inez, I needed it.”

“Always a pleasure, Senor.” Inez beamed as Nathan stood up from the table, a lot clearer about his decision than he was a short time ago.

Now he just had to figure out how to propose...

******

She was a patriot.

From the ashes of what once was the Romulan Empire, this one truth had become her calling. In its last days, she was considered an outcast, someone hunted because she dared to show the will they no longer had. Her loyalty to the Empire had no boundaries. The Empire she knew was one forged of blood and strength, sharpened over two thousand years of struggle. The last of her family line, all those that came before her sacrificed their blood on the altar of Romulan greatness. It was a legacy she was willing to carry on with pride although, from the onset, she was blessed with tools they did not have or if they did, did not exploit to their fullest potential.

Like Helen, whose beauty launched a thousand ships, Lorral was similarly blessed. As was the practice in Romulan culture, her father Larian, a Romulan commander had taken a captured female Starfleet Officer for his wife. Allowed to live just long enough to produce a child, she was killed shortly after Lorral’s birth and Larian did not feel it necessary for his new daughter to ever learn her name. As a result of her mixed heritage, Lorral was an exotic looking child with deep green eyes and captivating features.

Her father, who believed one should use all tools at one’s disposal to service ambition, had taught Lorral to use her beauty to its full advantage. Desire could be a powerful weapon. Men would kill each other for it, surrender good sense to satiate it and worst yet, be weakened because of it. He, who would die at the Battle of the Omarian Nebula, taught his daughter how to use her beauty as the opening act in any game of chess. Beauty, however, could only open doors.

It was intelligence that kept them open.

Her father, a devoted member of the Tal Shiar, the notorious Romulan covert agency, had raised her to think in the way of the order. She had no childhood to speak of, just a life of training to use her mind and to that effect, the genetics from her human mother had been a great boon. Whomever that nameless woman had been, she was a science officer and she passed onto Lorral a brilliant, deductive mind with a flair for the biological sciences. Excelling in biochemistry, bioengineering and advanced xenobiology, her scientific mind propelled her to become one of the Tal Shiar’s most effective operatives.

None of which would have been possible without her being stunningly ruthless.

She employed this trait in a manner that gave even the most militaristic of Romulan commanders pause. Unafraid to be cruel in its application, Lorral knew weakness should not simply be exploited, it should be pulverised into submission, until all that was left was dust or quivering flesh, begging for death. As a scientist, she’d gotten results because there were no boundaries she dared not violate, no lengths she would not go to in order to achieve empirical data. Without the limitations of empathy, morality and compassion, she produced results and usually quickly.

Ironically, it was her role as a scientist that saved her life when the Tal Shiar, along with the Cardassian Obsidian Order, launched an attack on what they believed to be the homeworld of the Founders, the rulers of the Dominion. In what had to be the worst defeat of the Dominion War, the entire fleet was wiped out, leaving the Tal Shiar in fragments and Lorral with the thirst to destroy the Dominion because among the dead was Larian.

Of course, by then, the Empire was weak, creating alliances with the soft bellied Federation and the barely civilized Klingons. In their fear of the Dominion, they sacrificed Romulan dignity and in a cascading display of poor judgement, brought them to the place where the Hobus supernova destroyed Romulus and effectively destroyed the Empire.

So now she was left to pick up the pieces and pick them up she would. The new Romulan Empire would continue, she would see to that. Already, she had a sizeable force of believers behind her, willing to follow her into the depths of space. She had no use for the weaklings who were bowing to the Federation for help.

Her new Empire awaited to be claimed, she only need to take the Frontier to do it.

Chris Larabee knew he shouldn’t be amused but he couldn’t help himself.

While he should have been showing the usual signs of anxiousness meeting the mother of his significant (okay not in any formal, declared, sexually intimate or ring-exchanging sense) other, Chris couldn’t help but view Mary’s reaction to Adelaide Sheridan’s impending visit with anything but amusement. Despite Mary’s rapid descent into near panic, Chris viewed her journey with fascination, having thought he had been acquainted with every aspect of the woman’s personality since her arrival on board the Maverick.

When Mary first arrived on board the ship to assume the role of Protocol Officer, Chris was confronted with a glacial, Vulcan widow who was clearly uncomfortable with serving on a ship full of humans, despite being one herself.  Prior to this, Mary’s service in Starfleet was with the Diplomatic Corps on Vulcan, until the lack of officers following the high casualties in Wolf 359 and the Battle of Sector 001, pressed her into starship duty.

After years of expunging her human side, Chris could not imagine the difficult transition it had been to suddenly return to the fold, after years of living as a Vulcan wife. Worse yet, this emergence from her self-imposed exile was a result of losing her husband Syan in the same battle that gained Chris his captaincy six months earlier.  As someone who’d lost his wife and son, Chris knew how painful it could be to pick up the pieces of one’s life after such a loss.

Of course, his empathy for her situation was also complicated by the fact that he had fallen head over heels in love with her on first sight. Chris still remembered with fondness, how his jaw had literally dropped the first time he saw her in his Ready Room, wearing that glorious cascade of golden hair. Fortunately, his affection for her was not one-sided when Mary was affected by him enough to find him through a psychic link, during their confrontation with the C’Kaia.

During the incident where Chris and Mary were transported off the bridge of the Maverick by the C’Kaia, they were forced to rely on each other to escape and in doing so strengthened their growing attraction into something more. Beneath the aloof exterior of the Vulcan widow, Chris discovered Mary was a warm and captivating creature who was determined and resourceful. Together, they managed to escape the C’Kaia and return to the ship, proving how good they were together, not just personally but professionally too.

In the wake of that first adventure, neither could deny their mutual attraction although Chris understood, it was still too soon for Mary to pursue a relationship after her husband’s passing.  Understanding the difficulties overcoming the loss of a spouse, Chris had been happy to give Mary all the time she needed to properly mourn Syan before embarking on any new relationship. Ultimately, it proved to be a good decision because of the gradual development of their relationship over time eventually culminated into a deep abiding love, which was unspoken but felt by anyone who saw them together.

Nevertheless, despite being recognised as a couple, Chris did everything to ensure their working relationship remain professional with ground rules established early on to avoid conflict. While they sometimes had differences of opinion, none of it ever intruded on their personal relationship which was what made it work so well.  Chris liked to think her affection for him also drew out the humanity she was forced to suppress to fit into Vulcan society.  

The woman who emerged over the course of the last year was nothing like the buttoned-down Vulcan wife he’d first met in his Ready Room. In some sense, Chris could not imagine anything worse than repressing the intelligence, spirited woman he’d fallen in love with.  While she kept her emotions tightly reined, the warmth she exuded was undeniable.

Carrying herself with an air of elegance and grace, Mary was extremely approachable to the rest of the crew, establishing friendships with Alexandra Styles and Julia Pemberton, as well as working closely with Josiah Sanchez as the liaison to the civilian crew of the Maverick. Very often, Mary was the voice of the families on board, sharing their concerns of raising children on board one of Starfleet’s most powerful warships.

Indeed, as the Maverick’s Protocol Officer, diplomacy and tact were part of her DNA.  

Chris admired the emotional fortitude enabling her to sit across from a rapist Cardassian Gul and still be able to treat him like royalty.  During the occasions when they were forced to play mediator between warring factions hell-bent on killing each other, Mary was often the voice of calm keeping both sides talking.  Exerting diplomacy and tact, Chris admired Mary’s ability to keep both sides talking when he was ready to eject them into space from sheer exasperation.

Patience and discipline were words he considered synonymous with Mary and yet all traces of the elegant, collected woman he had come to know and love, was absent when he joined her in Transporter Room 2.

Once Ezra completed all the procedural requirements for Adelaide Sheridan’s visit to the Maverick, the lady was ready to board the Maverick, a mere three hours after the ship had docked with DS5. As usual, when the Maverick put into any starbase, the transporter rooms became a hive of activity with the arrival and departure of the crew taking shore leave, welcoming guests and personnel transfers. Fortunately, Chris could exercise Captain’s prerogative to get Mary’s mother on board, despite the lateness of her request.

He wasn’t entirely sure he was doing Mary a favour.

Whatever poise and grace he’d been accustomed to the last twelve months were gone as Mary stood in the transporter room, appearing nervous as hell.  Billy was absent, having transported to the Lysian homeworld around which DS5 orbited, with the rest of his class for an excursion. The boy had been looking forward to the outing at one of the planet’s more spectacular animal reserves for weeks and Mary didn’t have the heart to keep him behind because of Adelaide’s unexpected visit.

“You okay?” Chris asked Mary, exchanging a look with Transporter Chief Rain Nal who was wearing a ‘what the hell’ expression on her face, as she stared at the Captain regarding the Protocol Officer’s uncharacteristic behaviour.

“I’m fine!” She declared and then realised, she had almost shouted. Groaning inwardly, Mary took a deep breath, brushed an errant strand of hair out of her hair, smoothed her skirt, turned a critical eye over him to make sure he looked...captainy, before speaking in a more measured tone. “I’m fine, she just makes me a little nervous.”

“No kidding,” Rain blurted out.

Chris shot the Transporter Chief a patented Larabee glare, although he shared the young Trill’s sentiments.   “Hey, I’ll run interference for you,” he offered, taking her hand. “It won’t be that bad.”

Mary snorted. “She’ll eat you alive.”

“What the hell did this woman do to you?” He could help but ask.

Mary let out a breath. “She didn’t do anything! She’s just one of those larger than life people who have opinions on everything...and I mean EVERYTHING, doesn’t believe in convention, has no boundaries with personal space.  At my sixteenth birthday, all I wanted was a nice tasteful little party with my friends...she rented Palace Versailles!”

“You’re kidding.” Chris’ eyes widened.

“No!” Mary declared. “When I was 17, I mentioned, just mentioned in passing that I liked this pianist from one of the symphonies we were watching... SHE CALLED HIM and paid for him to take me out to dinner!”

Chris bit the inside of his cheek, suspecting if he laughed, he would be killed outright.

A soft trill from the Transporter console made Rain look up, her face showing her attempt to stifle her own laughter at Mary’s humiliating narration of events. “Captain,” she cleared her throat.  “DS5 has just signalled its readiness to transport Ms Sheridan aboard.”

“Oh God,” Mary groaned.

“Mary, if you want I can lose the transporter signal. Perhaps send it to the other side of Lysia?”  Rain asked, only half-joking.  Like the Captain, she was bothered by Mary’s disintegration, despite the humour of the situation, and Rain had done far worse in her time then to send a transporter signal off the reservation to help a friend. Indeed, the act that got her noticed by the Captain for this position on the Maverick, involved transporting an instructor into the mess hall at Starfleet Academy, through all its security protocols, in the nude.

“That will not be necessary Lieutenant, Chris frowned at Rain, very familiar with the Trill’s sense of humour since she had started seeing Nathan Jackson.  “Procee...”

“Wait! I’m thinking about it,” Mary cut him off, appearing as if she were giving serious thought to the idea.

Chris rolled his eyes and repeated.  “PROCEED.”

******

Chris wasn’t sure what he was expecting.

Thanks to Mary’s dread at the inevitable arrival of Adelaide Sheridan on the Maverick, Chris expected to see a woman who was a cross between the Wicked Witch of the West, a Tyrannosaurus Rex and just a hint of Klingon targ to make things interesting. Instead, when the low hum of the transporter ceased and the golden shimmer of the beam dissipated, what he found was a woman in her sixties, with aristocratic features and familiar blue grey eyes.  

Unlike her daughter, Adelaide Sheridan wore her hair in a stylish short cut, with a sweeping fringe parted on the right. Her hair was almost snow white but Chris could imagine there was a time when it was the same colour as Mary’s since he spied a few errant strands of white gold remaining.  She stood about the same height as Mary and had the same shapely figure despite her vintage. Chris wasn’t certain what features Mary had inherited from her father but it was clear she was her mother’s daughter in terms of looks.

However, the similarities ended there.

Where Mary was always a picture of grace and elegance, Adelaide Sheridan’s fashion sense was the complete opposite, being flamboyant and colourful. She wore an elaborate looking turquoise gown with enough frills to be daring instead of garish, while adorned with jewellery that would have made a Ferengi (or Ezra Standish) salivate.   Yet instead of looking vulgar, the woman appeared very much like the grand dame of the theatre she was reputed to be.

Every part of her dress seemed to emphasize a personality used to being the centre of attention. Furthermore, on a starship where the opposite sex tended to disappear behind their Starfleet uniforms, Adelaide Sheridan relished every bit of her femininity and was sure to turn the head of every man on board, no matter what their age.

“MARIGOLD!” The woman exclaimed loudly, arms outstretched the minute she was able to step out the transporter pad. “Let me look at you!”

Chris winced when he felt Mary’s hand clench around his in reaction before she groaned. Throwing a sidelong glance at Mary, Chris saw her shoulders slump while her lovely features twisted into a grimace of exasperation.

“Mother, for the love of God please!  Don’t call me that!”

Mary released his hand and went to greet her mother who was stepping of the transporter pad.

Chris and Rain exchanged looks that said simultaneously without a word needing to be spoken. Marigold?

Having poured over Mary’s personnel file when she first came on board the Maverick, Chris was certain the name Marigold was mention nowhere in the records. While he knew Travis was the name of Adelaide Sheridan’s first husband, Mary’s father, the Protocol Officer’s first name was listed as Mary in every bit of identification there was about the woman. Of course, if Mary had been named Marigold, he could very well understand why she opted to change it.

“It’s your name Darling!” Adelaide showed no sign of repentance as mother and daughter embraced.  Turning to Chris and Rain, she continued speaking, despite having not been introduced. “When she was born, she had the most stunning head of gold hair you’d ever seen, colour like a field of marigolds. Everyone said so, which was just as well because she did come out a little chubbier than normal so the hair was a good distraction.”

“Mother!”  Mary’s jaw dropped open, her face turning red with embarrassment.

Woah, Chris thought to himself and realised Mary wasn’t exaggerating. He couldn’t guess whether Adelaide Sheridan was intentionally embarrassing her daughter or was she completely oblivious to the bits of self-esteem she was chipping off Mary with each word she spoke. Nevertheless, determined to come to the rescue of the woman he loved, Chris cleared his throat and stepped forward to introduce himself.

“Ms Sheridan, welcome aboard the Maverick. I’m Captain Chris Larabee.”

Adelaide seemed to take real notice of him for the first time and as Mary tried to compose herself over the woman’s shoulder, Chris noted familiar blue grey eyes studying him with deep scrutiny. He had no doubt he was being sized up by the woman’s high-powered gaze. He wondered if Mary had told Adelaide he and Mary shared a personal relationship even though his instincts said no. Of course, if she had seen Mary’s hand in his earlier, she might have guessed.

“Captain Larabee, what a pleasure to meet you,” she offered her his hand and he took it politely in greeting.  Glancing over her shoulder, Adelaide winked at her daughter and smirked, “Marigold, you do have a type.”

“Mother!” Mary exclaimed aghast wondering if matricide was really such a bad thing. 

Chris looked at Mary. “Type?”

“Uniforms,” Adelaide said helpfully. “Marigold always loved men in uniforms.”

Behind him, Chris swore he heard Rain snigger.

Chris shot the Transporter Chief a dark look and introduced the woman with a low growl. “This is Transporter Chief Rain.”

Rain was watching the proceedings with a bemused smirk, which told Chris immediately this entire exchange was going to be related to the senior staff in excruciating detail by day’s end. “She’ll be transporting your things to the guest quarters we have prepared for you.”

“Oh really?” Adelaide turned to Rain and replied. “Do be careful with the trunk.”

“Trunk?” Mary gawked at her mother. “How long do you plan on staying?”

“Until we’ve caught up completely darling,” Adelaide rolled her eyes. “I have spent barely a week with you in the last five years. We’ve lots to catch up on.” She gave Chris the once over and turned back to Mary. “And I want to meet my grandson William.”

At the mention of the six year old boy, Adelaide looked around the transporter pad and noted the absence of Billy Travis. “Where is William?”

“Well he had an excursion and your visit was unexpected,” Mary replied. “I didn’t want to disappoint him by not letting him go.”

“I am shunted aside for a school excursion?” Adelaide exclaimed aghast, her expression full of exaggerated hurt. “I am wounded.”

“Not yet,” Mary muttered through gritted teeth.

“Okay!” Chris spoke up, watching Mary inching closer to critical mass. “Ms Sheridan, why don’t I show you to your quarters so you can get settled in...”

Suddenly, the door to the transporter room opened and stepping through it was Ezra Standish. The Chief Security Officer, maintaining a perfect poker face that Chris for one second didn’t believe, pretended to be surprised by the presence of Adelaide, whom he’d obviously come down to meet.  Chris hadn’t forgotten how Ezra had taken the news that Mary’s mother was the great star of the stage.  The man had been positively gushing when he recited Adelaide’s achievements to the rest of the command staff.

“Oh Captain, I did not mean to intrude,” he said apologetically, eyes fixed on the woman, trying to hide the stardust in his eyes. “Commander Wilmington sent me down here to inform you, a Priority one message has come from Starfleet Command. You’re needed on the bridge immediately.”

“Really?” Chris stared at him. “Something wrong with our com badges, Ezra?” Chris gave the man a look, telling Ezra he was not fooling anyone.  Furthermore, if Buck had actually sent Ezra down here to deliver a Priority One message instead of alerting him immediately to it by comms, Chris was not going to be impressed. Suffice to say, he was going to be having a conversation with both his First Officer and his Chief of Security when time permitted.

“Well I was off duty,” Ezra feigned ignorance, “and Commander Wilmington believed with a visitor of such prestige, I should deliver the news personally and offer our sincerest apologies for taking you away to the bridge.”  He shot Chris his smuggest smile.

Chris bristled inwardly, giving Ezra a look that indicated this discussion was by no means over before remembering Mary’s mother.  “Ms Sheridan, I’d like you to meet our Chief Security Officer, Ezra Standish. You have him to thank for expediting the paperwork that permitted your visit.”

“How resourceful,” Adelaide smiled brightly at the Southerner.  “I’ve always depended on the kindness of strangers.” She winked at Ezra.

Ezra’s poker face crumbled at the mention of that famous line from one of his favourite plays. “I saw your performance as Blanche Dubois when I was a cadet ....”

“Yeah,” Chris rolled his eyes. “You’re not a fan.”

Leaving Ezra to his fawning, he met Mary’s gaze briefly, explaining the necessity of him to deal with this immediately, a thing she understood completely because professionalism in her work was the one thing in her life over which she had total control.  As a Protocol Officer, she knew perfectly well the importance of a Priority One message. Giving him a subtle nod, she turned back to her mother, while Chris drifted to the far end of the room and tapped on his combadge.

“Captain to the Bridge.”

“Chris, I was just about to call you. We just received an incoming message, it’s in pretty bad shape and Alex thinks it might have been hit with some kind of energy microburst at the time of transmission to shred it in subspace.”

“It’s not a Priority One message?” He shot Ezra a death glare at the overstatement. The Chief of Security was still too embroiled in his conversation with Mary's mother to notice the Captain's displeasure. 

“No!” Buck’s voice revealed his puzzlement. “You know I’d call you right away if that were the ...” Chris heard him pause a moment as if Buck was thinking about why he might have thought that. It took the First Officer only a second to guess. “Is Ezra down there?  I mentioned the transmission could be anything, a Priority One signal for all we know and like a jack rabbit, he took off, saying it was his end of shift or something.”

Technically, Ezra hadn’t lied, but being the consummate gambler that he was, the man did know how to bluff.  It was what made him the best Chief of Security (in Chris’ opinion) in the fleet, although there were times when the captain did want to shove him out of the airlock.  

“He’s down here,” Chris remarked with a sigh, realising now this was what his crew had to put up with when Jean Luc Picard came on board the Maverick.  The Captain of Enterprise E was a personal hero and the first time Chris had met him, he'd tripped over himself like a tongue-tied teenager. “Anyway, I’m on my way.”

“Acknowledged. See you soon.”

******

With the existence of a Priority One message from Starfleet, Chris was forced to abandon Mary to ministrations of Adelaide Sheridan in order to get to the bridge. Fortunately, Ezra’s attempt to meet the woman meant Chris could assign him the duty of playing escort, as well as run interference for Mary while she was forced to deal with her mother without his support.  As always, Mary took his need to depart with her usual understanding, even if her nerves were somewhat frayed by this point.  

The dividing line between their regard for each other and their duty as Starfleet Officers was one neither of them could cross for the sake of their relationship on the Maverick. In order for him to function as Captain, Chris knew Mary understood he couldn’t shirk his duties, even if he wanted to protect her from her mother’s behaviour. Besides, Chris had the sneaking suspicion, Adelaide liked an audience and his presence was only providing the woman more opportunities to embarrass her daughter.

Leaving Ezra with Adelaide for the moment, Chris headed out of the Transporter Room, making eye contact with Mary long enough for her to join him in the hallway outside. Fortunately, the way Ezra was gushing over Adelaide’s performance as Blanche Dubois and Maggie the Cat and the lady soaking his adulation, neither noticed Mary’s departure.

“I’m sorry,” Chris quickly said, needing to get going., “I’ve got to go...”

“It’s alright,” Mary let out an exasperated sigh, kissing him lightly on the lips since the corridor outside Transporter Room 2 was empty. While the entire ship knew what they meant to each other, both Chris and Mary tried to maintain a professional demeanour towards each other outside social events. “Thank you for being there.  I’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with her all my life, I can stand it for a few more days. If not, you can visit me in Federation prison after I’ve committed matricide.”  

“I’ll break you out,” Chris grinned although he had to ask. “Marigold?”

Mary groaned, knowing the question was inevitable. “If you love me, we will never speak of it again.”

Chris knew when a strategic withdrawal was necessary as she glared at the door to Transporter Room 2 with such a menacing gleam a Klingon would have been sent running in terror. Grinning, he kissed her back while the hallway was still devoid of bodies and the overt display of affection would remain between just the two of them. 

“I'll table it for now," he replied before heading towards the nearest turbo lift.  "I'll see you soon.”

“What do we have?” Chris asked, stepping out of the turbo lift a few minutes later.

Upon sighting Chris, Buck rose to his feet immediately, vacating the command chair to take his customary position in the First Officer’s seat at the Captain’s right hand. Meanwhile, instead of occupying her usual place at the Science Station, Alex was standing hunched over JD’s shoulder at navigation, no doubt assisting the ensign decrypt the content of the mystery message just received. Vin, whose shift ended the same time as Ezra’s, had opted to remain on the bridge, no doubt in anticipation of trouble and also because he was interested in what the message might say.

Had Ezra been not so starstruck by the presence of Adelaide Sheridan, the Chief of Security might have done the same thing. Then again, despite his earlier chagrin at the gambler, Chris had to admit it took something extraordinary to penetrate the man’s cynicism and affect him so profoundly. The only time Ezra had ever been so similarly taken was when a certain titian-haired beauty had come on board the Maverick. Julia Pemberton had destroyed Ezra’s consummate poker face with a flick of her copper coloured haired.

As he headed towards his command chair, Chris wondered how Julia Pemberton was going to take Ezra’s adulation of Adelaide Sheridan.

“We’re still trying to clean it up,” Buck answered Chris’ question as the Captain took up his seat. Instinctively, he turned to Alex and JD, to give them a prompt on their progress. “How’s it going?”

While JD’s concentration was singularly focussed on the console in front of him, his fingers flying over the screen in a flurry of movement, Alex straightened up to answer the question. Normally, the younger man was capable of deconstructing most signals with ease but the expression on his face implied this particular signal might be more of a challenge than normal. That he required the assistance of the Science Officer in this instance, spoke to the complexity of restoring the original signal after its assault in subspace.

“It’s definitely a Federation frequency,” Alex told Chris, “but it been hit by a feedback pulse, send in the opposite direction of the initial subspace stream. Probably someone trying to scatter its content failing to affect a jamming signal. It’s a good attempt at trying to disrupt a subspace signal but not enough to destroy it. Nevertheless, the polarisation has caused enough interference to corrupt the original data stream.”

“Lot of effort to make sure we stay in the dark,” Vin remarked staring at Chris.

As always, Vin’s thoughts mirrored Chris’ own and he glanced at Buck. “Buck, get Ezra up here. This sounds to me like a situation.”

“He’s going to be heartbroken,” Buck suppressed a smirk, knowing what it had to be a pretty special lady to drag the Chief of Security off the bridge when there was a puzzle to be solved. “He was all fired up to meet Ms Sheridan.”

“No kidding,” Chris shook his head. “I was hoping he could run interference for Mary with her mother.”

“That bad?” Vin asked, suddenly grateful Alex’s mother had passed and the closest he’d come to facing the dreaded mother in law situation was his meeting with Kellien, the Klingon woman who’d helped raise Alex. Following their engagement with the Jem’Hadar and the business with Gul Lemar, Kellien had come on board at Josiah Sanchez’s behest to see Alex. Vin supposed being told by a Klingon, he had a spine was as much as a compliment as he could expect from the strong woman.

“And then some,” Chris shook his head, still feeling guilty about leaving Mary to face her mother alone but while this did not have the urgency of a Priority One mission, the idea that a Federation ship being in trouble did not sit well with Chris. “Any idea where it came from?”

“With the corruption to the data stream, it’s difficult to say,” Alex answered for JD. “At this point, the only thing we do know is that it’s coming from the same region of space as Colony 9.”

“Colony 9?” Chris exclaimed with some surprise.

Colony 9 had been destroyed during the Maverick’s engagement with the C’Kaia, a race of insects whose xenophobia and thirst for domination had resulted in the creation of the Borg. Initially intended to be a warrior race to conduct their conquest for them in much the same way the Founders utilised the Jem’Hadar, the C’Kaia had been outsmarted by their own creations. By introducing a telepathic female to mimic their own hive mind, they inadvertently created the Borg Queen who would go on to create the Collective.

When learning of the Federation’s success at repelling two subsequent Borg invasions, the C’Kaia had sought to learn all they could about how this was done. Before eventually realising it was Jean Luc Picard’s experiences with the Borg that gave them an edge, the C’Kaia had callously murdered the inhabitants of at least three different colonies, including Colony 9. Colony 9 had been an agricultural outpost and the assault of a molecular destabilising weapon on the settlement had ended any future notions of colonising the planet.

“Yeah, that’s what we figured,” Buck shared Chris’ puzzlement. “There isn’t anything out there anymore.”

“Could be surveyors,” Vin suggested. “Checking up on whether the Berthold radiation has dissipated.”

“I can check on that Captain.” Alex offered.

“Do it,” Chris nodded, sending Alex striding back to the science station.

“Any chance it could be the C’Kaia?” Buck asked. With the exception of the Borg, there was no one else that far out who could be a threat to anyone.

“Would they risk coming back here after last time? “After the threat, you made to out them to the Borg?” Vin asked, not at all liking the idea of that particular enemy making a return.

During their encounter with the C’Kaia, they almost lost Chris and Mary for good. Furthermore, considering the threat the Captain used to ensure the C’Kaia never set foot in Federation space again, Vin did not at all like the possibility of his best friend falling into their hands again. Vin still remembered the hatred the C’Kaia had directed at Chris personally for that slight.

“Unlikely,” Alex replied before Chris could. After saving Vin’s life during the Pon Farr and their subsequent mating, the permanent meld between them allowed Alex to sense Vin’s concern for Chris. And as she had done since their first meeting, moved quickly to allay his fears. “Their jamming systems was very effective; no message would have made it out at all.”

Vin gave Alex a grateful smile, aware of what she was doing and once again, felt the surge of secret delight at the knowledge she was now his wife and mate. The last two months since their marriage had been nothing short of bliss. All the hopes and dreams Vin harboured for Alex, since that first moment when she’d nursed his wounded ego in Four Corners, had been realised.

“What she said,” Chris answered, sharing Alex’s belief. “Furthermore, the C’Kaia know what is at stake if they’re caught in Federation space again, they wouldn’t waste time jamming the signal, they would have just destroyed the ship.”

“Agreed,” Buck nodded. “If a galaxy class starship couldn’t hold them back, I don’t like the chances of a civilian ship surviving the meeting long enough to send a message.”

“Captain,” Alex spoke up. “I think I’ve identified the ship the signal may have come from. Vin’s right, the Spacing Guild has logged a flight plan for a survey ship, the Columbus, travelling in that sector. She’s an Aurora class vessel scheduled to make a routine inspection of the Kurlan System to see if the adverse effects of the C’Kaia attack on Colony 9 have dispersed.”

“Crew complement?”

“Fifteen,” Alex replied, studying the data on her console screen. “They’re mostly planetary engineers, geologists and radiation specialists.”

“Civilians,” Buck frowned. “Chris, should we suspend shore leave for now?”

If they were required to mount a rescue mission, they would need a full crew, especially when the nature of the threat was so undefined. As it stood, since docking at DS5, a handful of crew members had already transported off ship to enjoy their furlough

Chris frowned, disliking the idea of suspending shore leave after what the crew had endured in Romulan space for the last two months. Until Adelaide Sheridan had thrown a monkey wrench in the works with her arrival, even Chris had been looking forward to spending some time with Mary and Billy down on Lysia. Sweeping his gaze across the bridge, he knew his senior staff needed the break too. After all the devastation they’d witnessed, the scale of suffering and casualties, his crew were owed their due in rest. Unfortunately, the realities of life in Starfleet meant the preservation of life came above all else.

“Stand by for now until we hear the message,” he said with a sigh, having no other choice if the message unfolded as he expected it too.

The low hiss of the turbo lift opened and Ezra Standish emerged, looking all business and concerned at the worst case scenario he hoped hadn’t eventuated when he’d left the bridge to go on his ‘errand’.

“Glad you could join us Chief,” Chris gave Ezra a look. “I trust you squared Ms Sheridan away?”

A slow rumble of amusement rippled through the bridge as Chris smirked at Ezra who was maintaining a poker face, not about to show anyone his embarrassment at his fannish behaviour towards Adelaide Sheridan.

“I left Ms Sheridan and Lt. Travis to their own devices yes,” Ezra spoke with great dignity, perfectly aware he would eventually be recalled to the bridge once the nature of the message had been unravelled. He had seen nothing wrong indulging his curiosity regarding the great lady when nothing could be done on the bridge until the message was transcribed. Besides, he was off duty.

“I believe Lt. Travis said something about showing Ms Adelaide the airlock when I was departing.”

“Ouch,” Buck winced and ratcheted Chris’ guilt another notch.

“Ezra, it looks like we’ve got a civilian transport surveying Colony 9 in trouble,” Buck explained. “Someone has gone through a lot of trouble trying to make sure they didn’t get a message to us.”

“Someone?” Ezra raised a brow. He knew of nothing in the vicinity of the Kurlan system where Colony 9 was located. The only threat that could possibly emerge from that quadrant of space was the Borg although the Collective wouldn’t waste time masking signals. Same with the C’Kaia whom the Captain had parlayed an uneasy understanding with a year ago. They were too powerful to bother with butchering subspace when it was more effective to simply destroy the craft.

“It could be smugglers or pirates,” Ezra offered to retreat to his security station. “The remote location would prove an attractive locale to those conducting illegal activities, even if it is a considerable distance from the core systems. Orions, in particular, have been known to establish their bases in the wilderness to remain hidden from the various stellar authorities.”

“I don’t know whether I want to build a base that’s the favourite trajectory of a Borg armada,” Buck countered.

"Captain, the message is ready," JD announced, capturing the undivided attention of everyone on the bridge with that one statement. “There was a lot of fragmentation because of the feedback pulse so we’ve only got audio but it’s the best I can do Sir.” He frowned unhappily.

“I’m sure you did your best JD,” Buck assured him, aware JD’s prolonged silence since Chris arrived on the bridge had to do with the ensign’s singular focus on giving his captain an answer.

“Go ahead.”

The message greeted them with a loud burst of static, followed by a male voice speaking through the hiss of interference. “This... John Black...Columbus... we... attack...Sector 351... we can’t see them!” The interference seemed to subside for a few seconds and they were able to hear John Black’s word a little more clearly, though it was a foregone conclusion to everyone on the bridge, it was a distress signal the Maverick would not be able to reach on time.

“We’re going to try and stay ahead of them but they’re not even trying to hail us. They came out of nowhere! We can’t see them... we don’t know who they are. If anyone can hear this message, please help us. There’s fifteen of us on board, we don’t even have weapons...”

The sentence was lost in what sounded like another burst of static but Chris recognised it for what it was.

“Was that a phaser blast?” Vin asked.

“No,” Ezra said immediately, “the pitch is altogether too high. If I were to venture a guess, I would say it was a disruptor but I would not gamble on it.”

“That’s all there is,” JD said when silence followed John Black’s last words. The fade of the disruptor blast echoed through the bridge with a sense of finality for the state of the Columbus’ crew.

“Damn,” Buck hissed. “Do you think....” he looked at Chris unable to finish his grim thought.

“I’m going to operate on the assumption they’re still alive,” Chris stated firmly, not wanting to entertain any other possibility until he knew for certain hope was lost. “All non-essential personnel still on DS5 can remain there until we get back. Everybody else, I’m afraid shore leave is cancelled until we’ve recovered the Columbus.”

“Didn’t have anywhere special to go anyway,” Vin replied, glad the Maverick would be going to answer the distress call of the Columbus even if the likelihood of reaching the ship in time to save those on board seemed remote. They were almost a day away from Sector 351, even if Vin got Chris’ authorisation to bring the ship to Warp 9.9. The finality of a possible disruptor blast heavily implied there would be nothing to find when they reached the coordinates of the transmission.

“Captain,” Ezra said with a disappointed sigh. “As much as I loathed to make this recommendation, we should not be taking any guests with us into a possible combat situation.”

Despite the fact he was utterly thrilled by the fact that Adelaide Sheridan was presently on board the Maverick, as Chief of Security, he would be remiss in his duty if he didn’t voice that particular concern. Even though he’d already arranged to give Mary some easement by offering to take the lady for a tour around the ship (with Julia of course), Ezra knew allowing visitors like her to remain on board was unwise.

“It’s safer Chris,” Buck voiced his support for the recommendation. They had no idea what they would be flying into and the fact they could not identify the origins of what sounded like a disruptor blast, gave him cause for concern. It could well be a rogue Romulan or Klingon element. An unusual happenstance considering how far away from either of those territories they were. However, it could not be ruled out until they reached the Kurlan system.

“Do it,” Chris said in complete agreement with Buck on this. Of course, saving Mary from her mother had nothing to do with it at all.

******

 “Well, this is completely unacceptable!”

Adelaide Sheridan fumed within the confines of the guest quarters prepared for her during her visit to Maverick. Of course, that stay had now been cut short by the announcement the ship was going to leave the orbit of DS5 within the hour to mount a rescue mission on the edge of Federation space.

With the possibility of a hostile enemy waiting for them, Mary understood Chris’ reasoning for sending the Maverick’s guests off the ship. As it stood, she was grateful Chris’ order included non-essential personnel such as Audrey King, one of the Maverick’s school teachers. It meant Billy could remain on DS5 with the rest of his class who were present at the animal sanctuary on Lysia under Audrey’s charge. As always, Captain Krista would ensure the civilians remaining behind would be well cared for until the Maverick’s return.

“Mother, its standard procedure,” Mary explained, trying not to get exasperated. Her earlier anxieties had levelled off somewhat, thanks to Ezra Standish’s presence in the Transporter Room. By the time, they reached the guests quarters where Adelaide was to stay, Mary had managed her reaction to her mother’s presence in her life again and reclaim some measure of poise and composure. “We are about to enter a hostile situation and it’s just not a good idea to put civilians at risk. It will be only for a few days. You can spend some quality time with your grandson.”

Mary reached for her mother’s hand, squeezing it gently to convince her this was for her best.

“Marigold!” Adelaide burst out with similar frustration. “I can’t simply go to him and introduce myself as his grandmother! He has no idea who I am.”

Mary knew she was right about Adelaide’s introduction to Billy but the truth was, Mary was determined the woman leave the ship without further complaint. Knowing how intractable Adelaide could be from her youth if her mother was outraged enough, she’d marched right up to the Captain and demand the right to remain on board.

“You should be there with us,” Adelaide challenged.

“I can’t,” Mary balked at the suggestion of leaving the Maverick when Chris and her friends were heading into danger. Still, even as the thought crossed her mind, Mary knew it was more than that. Her feelings for Chris Larabee made it impossible for her to leave the ship when he was facing danger. While Mary was well aware Chris would not object to her leaving the ship under such circumstances, Mary would not entertain it. “I am part of the Bridge crew, I need to be there.”

Adelaide’s eyes narrowed at the determination in her daughter’s face as she said those words. “That’s not why you’re staying.”

Mary bristled, hating the fact her mother could see through her. Whatever happened to the glacial Vulcan mask she’d adopted throughout the years of marriage to Syan, whenever Adelaide was in her presence? Almost quietly, Mary spoke in a tone she seldom used with her mother so Adelaide would understand why Mary considered it impossible to do as she asked.

“I have to, it’s my duty.”

“I see,” Adelaide replied, guessing the reason even if she didn’t believe her Marigold’s explanation. She crossed the carpeted floor of the room to lower herself into the sofa facing the window providing them with a stunning view of the stars beyond. “Alright Marigold,” she eyed her daughter with resignation. “I’ll wait for you at DS5.”

Mary let out a sigh of relief, She went to Adelaide, lowering herself on her knees and, placing her head against her mother’s lap in that familiar way she had done as a child, whenever she wanted Adelaide to understand how deeply she felt about a thing. “I can’t leave him, mother.  I won’t.”

That at least, Adelaide understood. Stroking her daughter’s golden hair, Adelaide understood, at last, the nature of Mary’s relationship with Chris Larabee.

“No, I suppose you can’t.”

Captain’s Log Stardate 12.339.22

The Maverick is two hours away from arriving at the Kurlan system, the source of the Columbus’ distress signal. So far long range scanners have shown no sign of any activity in the area, and no further messages have transmitted. At this point, we are approaching the situation with extreme caution although I am not prepared to give up hope that we may yet recover survivors from the Columbus. While I find it unlikely the Borg or C’Kaia might be responsible for the attack, I have notified Starfleet Command of the possibility.

In the meantime, I have learned that Adelaide Sheridan did not disembark the Maverick at DS5 as anticipated and somehow managed to stay on board the ship. I will be discussing the matter further with Ms Sheridan as soon as possible.

******

How the hell did she manage to stay on board Ezra?” Chris demanded within the confines of his Ready Room, where presently Mary, Buck and Ezra were facing the Captain, like a group of children who had been sent to the principal’s office, after being caught stealing the school’s hover car and taking it for a spin to Chicago.

Not that such a thing actually happened and if accused Chris Larabee would plead the fifth.

“Chris, this is my fault,” Mary spoke up before Buck and Ezra could, “I should have escorted her to the transporter room and made sure she was sent to DS5 myself.”

When Mary left Adelaide outside Transporter Room 2, she had done so with assurances from the woman they would see each other again when the Maverick returned from its rescue mission. She should have known Adelaide wouldn’t be appeased so easily, that somehow, in some fashion, her mother would get her way no matter what the consequences to those around her.

“So she didn’t let on she was planning on staying?” Buck asked, fuming because this was a serious breach of security. Buck knew the only reason it had happened was that Ms Sheridan had used Mary’s relationship with Chris to bamboozle the poor ensign in Transporter Room 1 into believing she was staying on board with the Captain’s endorsement.

“Of course not!” Mary declared exasperated. “Do I look like I want to enter a hostile situation with my mother on board? Trust me, I want her off the ship more than all of you combined. Unless of course, you have some way to launch her at the enemy because not even the Borg would stand a chance against her.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Chris fought the urge to smirk at that remark. Instead, he rubbed the bridge of his nose and regarded his Security Chief. “Ezra?”

“Apparently,” Ezra cleared his throat and winced as he made his unbelievable report, “Ms Sheridan told Ensign Yanek that you were surprising Lt. Travis by allowing her mother to remain onboard and you’d be personally grateful to her if she confirmed the transport to DS5 as further proof of her departure in case Lt Travis made inquiries.”

Ezra had listened to the story with a mixture of horror and sympathy, horror at the complete failure to follow half a dozen of his security measures, not to mention standard protocols and sympathy because Adelaide Sheridan was a celebrated actress capable of being utterly convincing. While the entire ship knew about Mary and Chris’ relationship, only an ensign as green as Yanek would be unaware Chris would never circumvent protocol in such a fashion or use his authority for personal reasons.

Chris smouldered behind his desk as he listened to Ezra’s report.

“Really?” His voice dripped with barely concealed outrage.

Perfectly aware Chris was a few notches away from going nuclear, Buck stepped into his role as First Officer to diffuse the captain by handling the situation. He was pretty sure Starfleet Command was not going to appreciate learning a celebrated thespian had been locked in the brig indefinitely. “Ezra, I take it you’ve notified Rain about giving Ensign Yanek some instruction on how things operate on the Maverick.”

“Oh I have no doubt that some form of instruction will be involved,” Ezra answered, recalling just how furious Rain had been, learning that one of her own had made such a foolish assumption. Ezra had seriously considered assigning the ensign a security detail until Rain calmed down because all of the Trill’s previous host memories were screaming blue murder. “Chief Rain will be taking personal charge of the Ensign.”

Mary felt terrible for poor Ensign Yanek who had been used as a pawn in Adelaide Sheridan’s schemes and was going to bear the brunt of it from just about everybody. She made a mental note to see Rain and convince the Transporter Chief to take it easy on the young ensign. She was just no match for Mary’s mother.  Grace Yanek had arrived on the Maverick, barely a month ago and was just finding her feet, let alone having the expertise to sidestep a skilful operator like her mother. 

“Captain, I’m happy if you choose to put her on a shuttle with rations and send her back to DS5,” Mary suggested.

“It’s tempting,” Chris growled, properly incensed by how Ms Sheridan had taken advantage of one of his younger crewmen. “Unfortunately, it’s a done deed. Ezra, provide her with an escort to ensure she doesn’t have access to unrestricted sections of the ship and impress upon Ms Sheridan that stowing away on board a Federation starship is a violation of more than just Starfleet regulations.”

“Rest assured Captain, it will be done.” Ezra frowned. While he might have been star struck by the lady’s presence, any flouting of his security measures was something he took personally and like Mary, Ezra was not impressed at how she’d contrived to remain on board at the expense of Ensign Yanek.

“Alright dismissed.” Chris eased back into his chair, unable to believe this was the situation he was dealing with two hours before they arrived at a potentially hostile situation.

While Buck and Ezra promptly left the Captain’s Ready Room, Mary lingered behind wanting to have a private word with Chris and apologise again for being born Adelaide Sheridan’s child. Feeling supremely stupid for believing her mother might understand her decision to remain on board the Maverick and simply go quietly into the night, was too much to ask for.

“I’m sorry Chris,” she fell heavily into the chair in front of his desk. “I should have guessed she’d pull a stunt like this.”

“Hey, it's not your fault,” Chris got up from his chair and rounded the desk so he could reach her. Lifting her chin so she’d look at him, he wanted her to know he didn’t blame her. After what he had seen of the woman thus far, it was clear, Adelaide did whatever she pleased with no thought to those around her. “I didn’t take your word for it when you said she was a handful.”

Mary managed a half smile, grateful for his understanding but not feeling any better about it. “She’s been like this all my life you know? My father seemed to know how to keep her reined but after he passed, she turned into...well you saw.”

Chris did not comment and simply chose to nod, letting Mary speak.

“First chance I got, I enrolled in Starfleet Academy, although she wanted me to go to Juilliard.”

“Juilliard?” Chris raised a brow. As the son of a Harvard Professor, he knew of the school. “Really? What for?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Mary shrugged, not wanting it out there that one of her hidden talents was an exceptional singing voice she never put much worth into. If Stellar Cartography ever found out, she’d end up getting roped into their Drama Club. “I’ve tried to stay away as much as possible and marrying a Vulcan didn’t help either.”

“She disapproved of Syan?” Chris raised a brow at that. Mary’s husband was a respected Vulcan officer who had died in the line of duty, defending Earth. Furthermore, a Vulcan who fell in love with a human female, Vin notwithstanding, was unusual. Mary must have really affected the man for him to marry outside his species. Not that Chris could blame Syan of course. The Captain of the Maverick had been similarly lost when he first met Mary Travis.

“She thought I was marrying him to get back at her. She couldn’t believe I’d voluntary live among them and adopt their disciplines for a man.” Mary sighed, remembering the heated arguments and Adelaide’s utter disbelief when Mary had made the announcement so many years ago. For months after her engagement, mother and daughter were estranged with Adelaide absent from her wedding at Vulcan. Mary had felt both miserable and grateful, unable to imagine how Adelaide would have fit into the rigid Vulcan ceremony. Only after Billy was born did they manage to reconnect at all.

Chris took her hand and raised it to his lips, “Mary, everything will be okay. Don’t let her get to you. As annoying as this situation is with her remaining on board, it's not the end of the world. Sure, I’m mad by how she manipulated Ensign Yanek, especially when the ship might be entering a critical situation but she’s just like every other civilian who has chosen to remain aboard. We’ll handle it.”

“Oh Chris,” Mary rose to her feet and caressed his jaw, before leaning in for a kiss. “Thank you so much for understanding.”

Chris smiled at her, glad to see she was feeling a little better. “Although I do reserve the right to launch her at the enemy if we end up needing a secret weapon.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Mary deadpanned.

******

 “I must admit,” Ezra Standish remarked after returning to his station in tactical after their meeting with the captain, “after Lt Travis’ troubles with her mother, I am more appreciative of my own.”

Maude could be downright mortifying, especially when she took it upon herself to reveal embarrassing stories about his childhood but at least she had the good sense not to interfere with his ship and crew mates. In fact, the last time they were on Risa, Ezra and Julia had spent quite a pleasant few days with the woman at her new establishment.

“Really?” Alex stared at him from her station. “From all accounts, Julia says your mom’s great. I mean I’d heard horror stories about Adelaide Sheridan from Mary, but I thought it might have been an exaggeration.”

Now that the others knew about Mary’s mother, Alex was a bit more comfortable speaking about the woman without betraying confidences.

“Well that’s family isn’t it?” Buck shrugged. “You can pick your friends but family you get stuck with.” The First Officer was still in a state of disbelief at the stunt Adelaide Sheridan had pulled to stay on board the Maverick. “Even my mother, who was a saint, could make me a little crazy.”

Of course, Buck still missed the woman who bore him dearly, even though she’d been dead for many years now. Tessa Wilmington had been a hostess in a bar at Mars Station, when she fell into the family way, thanks to a dalliance with a young engineer who worked at the Utopia Planitia Fleet Yards.

On her own, since she was sixteen, the idea of having a child was one she embraced wholeheartedly even though the father of her baby made it a point to disappear as quickly as possible. Fortunately, Tessa hadn’t cared enough about him to be disappointed by his absence. Her love was destined for her child and Buck grew up loved not just by her, but by the ladies of the Red Planet Saloon, who treated him like he was their own.

Before she died of Polycythaemia when he was twenty-two, Tessa had made sure he had the best of everything, including an education good enough to meet the academic requirement for entry into Starfleet Academy. Thanks to her and those wonderful women who taught him everything he knew about the gender and gave him such a great appreciation of them, Buck had only fond memories of his childhood.

“I don’t remember my mother,” Alex remarked, from her science station. “She died when I was two. She was a dancer.”

“A dancer?” Ezra looked at Alex in interest. Ezra was aware that Alex’s father, William Styles, was a Federation diplomat but knew very little about her mother. Of course, as Chief of Security, he could have delved deeper into Alex’s personnel file but knew Alex was fiercely guarded about her privacy. Besides, as someone who possessed the same programming skills as he, Ezra knew she would not take kindly to the intrusion and had no desire to find his shower preferences set for scalding if she ever found out.

“Yes, Indian classical dance,” she replied. Her own memories of her mother were vague but what she remembered about Yasmine was her expressive hands. Her father had shown her recorded footage of her mother’s performances and it always struck Alex how closely they resembled each other. From their physical build to the long dark hair and brown eyes. “My parents met when she was performing at some diplomatic event when he was just an attaché.”

“My mother was a xenobiologist,” Vin volunteered from the Con, joining in the conversation about mothers inspired by Mary’s harrowing experience with Adelaide. “At the Academy of Science. She and my dad were doing research work in the Rim. She didn’t believe in data pads, always carried a library of leather-bound books wherever she went.”

A sad smile crossed Vin’s face when he recalled the scent of her leather books, stored in their marooned ship and then later transported back to the ranch he’d inherited from his parents in Texas after he’d been rescued. Even though he was barely civilised when he was found by the rescue party nearly five years after her death, Vin had refused to leave that distant world unless those books came with him.

“What about you, Mr Dunne? Any recollections about your maternal experience worth mentioning since we seem to be sharing?” Ezra asked, turning to the youngest member of the bridge crew, who had yet to speak.

JD wasn’t listening.

Ever since he returned to duty two hours ago, he’d been monitoring all frequencies for any further communications from the Columbus. While none of the senior officers had said it, JD knew they weren’t expecting to find the survey ship in one piece, not after the ominous message he’d decrypted prior to leaving DS5. The captain was still operating under the assumption of finding survivors but JD had served with Chris Larabee long enough to know the man wasn’t optimistic about their chances.

On the other hand, JD refused to give up hope. He knew it had to do with his feelings about his own mother, Olivia Dunne, who died at the Battle of Sector 001 when the Borg attacked Earth. Every ship in the sector had been rallied by Admiral Hayes to defend the Earth, including his mother’s ship, the USS Ticonderoga. In the battle that would make Commander Chris Larabee a starship captain and turn Lt Mary Travis into a widow, JD had become an orphan when his mother’s ship like so many others, was destroyed.

“JD?” Buck sat up straighter when the young man didn’t respond. “What’s up?”

Immediately, the conversation went quiet and the rest of the senior officers were paying attention to the young ensign who appeared engrossed in what he was doing, hunched over his navigation and communication console.

“It isn’t anything,” JD explained, his expression showing his puzzlement. “I’ve been monitoring all frequencies to see if there’s any further communication from the Columbus, just in case they may have tried to send another message after the one we received. I mean I know they were under attack but who knows...”

“Good thinking,” Buck nodded in approval, aware the possibility of them being too late to save the Columbus weighed heavily on the boy. JD was still too new to have developed the hard calluses the rest of them had over their feelings. Besides, Buck never saw anything wrong with being thorough. However, there was something on JD’s face that implied something else was going on. “But?”

“But I’ve detected an echo.”

“An echo?” Alex spoke out first, exchanging a look with Ezra.

“Elaborate.” Buck prompted.

JD flinched, feeling uncomfortable that all eyes were now on him. Suddenly, the mention of an echo had placed all the senior officers in a state of alert. Buck’s happy go lucky manner had evaporated into the efficient First Officer, poised to alert the captain depending on what he said next.

“It feels like a subspace echo, except this one, is being generated in a sequence of four at 0.2-second intervals. It seems to be following us, even while we’re in warp...”

Buck’s eyes widened in realisation and tapped his comm badge immediately. “Captain to the Bridge! Ezra put us on yellow alert! Alex...!”

“I’m scanning for EM spikes and quantum fractures!” She said quickly, her hands flying over the console of her science station, her expression urgent. When JD had first mentioned an echo, both she and Ezra had caught on quickly at what might have caused it but JD’s revelation of the frequency of the signal confirmed their suspicions.

In the meantime, Ezra was already bringing their deflector shields to full power in readiness for a combat situation. The yellow alert signal began flashing on every unmanned console across the Maverick, alerting the crew and its civilian population that the situation had become urgent prematurely.

“What?” JD stared at Vin, trying to understand why his report of the echo was causing so excitement. “What is it?”

“Because,” Vin explained as the doors to the captain’s Ready Room slid open. Chris emerged and immediately moved briskly across the floor with Mary trailing a step or two behind him “The only time subspace echoes come in pulses like you’ve mentioned is if they’re caused by a subspace variation. There’s only one thing that causes a subspace variation like that.” Vin said grimly, hoping they were wrong because if JD was right about a sequence of four, that number had ominous implications for the Maverick and its crew.

“What have we got?” Chris demanded, lowering himself into his command chair.

“Alex?” Buck glanced at her, wanting her to confirm or dismiss their cause for concern.

Unfortunately, Alex could do no such thing as she met Chris’ gaze stonily. “There’s subspace variances in four different points surrounding us. I’m detecting energy fluctuations, quantum level fractures and EM spikes. We’re not alone out here and there are...”

“Four of them.” Chris finished before she could finish the sentence. “Ezra shields up.”

“Aye Captain,” Ezra replied promptly, initiating the shields which in turn resulted in klaxons screaming throughout the ship, telling anyone who didn’t already know from the yellow alert, it was time to find a comfortable place to wait out the next few minutes because the ship was entering a potentially hostile situation.

“Four of what?” Mary had to ask, uncertain how the mention of a subspace variance could cause so much discord.

Buck activated the viewer, providing the bridge with a panoramic view of their journey through warp. Stars rushed by the Maverick’s bow, disappearing into the corners of the screen like streaking comets. Even after a year on the Maverick, Mary still found the sight breathtaking. Yet the beauty of it was lost to the bridge officers present because they were all wearing expressions of concern she did not understand.

“Rear view,” Chris ignored her question and spoke to Buck.

While the view in front of the Maverick was beautiful, what shimmered into view behind the craft was another matter entirely.

Appearing behind them, one after the other, were four Romulan warbirds.

“D'Deridex Class,” Chris heard Ezra announce to no one in particular.

For a few seconds, no one spoke in light of what they were seeing as the four warbirds decloaked off their port and starboard bow. Radiating their distinct emerald glow, the D'Deridex class warbirds had been developed by Romulan shipbuilders for the specific intention of taking on galaxy class starships and nearly matched them in size and armament. Utilising a forced quantum singularity as its main power source, each battleship was near twice the length of the Maverick and with disruptors capable of inflicting heavy damage.

The last time the Maverick had faced a Romulan ship, it was the Tasmeen, and that had been a raptor class ship, half the size of a warbird. A Founder had transported on board, most likely during the narrow margin of time between the ship raising its shields and lowering its cloak and hijacked the craft. Once in Dominion hands, the Tasmeen had been the lead ship in an armada sent into the Frontier to take the Maverick, in order to gain access to its valuable computer core. Chris doubted the gambit he used to destroy the Tasmeen in that incident was going to work more than once in this encounter. If at all.

“What the hell are they doing here?” Buck demanded as he saw the warbirds spreading across the rear of the Maverick, maintaining their position even at high warp.

Buck’s question was a valid one. Much of the Romulan fleet had been decimated during the Hobus supernova. What ships were left, were presently engaged in relief operations, ferrying survivors to the starbases along the Neutral Zone, now transformed into refugee centres for their displaced people. The lack of ships had prompted the Romulan government to apply to the Federation for help, which was why the Maverick had spent two months in Romulan space. Buck could not imagine the situation had improved enough for what was left of the Romulan government to spare four ships, let alone send them into Federation space without notifying Starfleet.

“Whatever it is, I guarantee we are not going to like it,” Ezra remarked. “I am going to venture a guess they are responsible for the attack on the Columbus.”

“Why?” Mary demanded, “For what possible reason? Surely the Romulan government knows they’re in no position to get into a fight with the Federation, not in the state they’re currently in.”

After the destruction of Romulus and the subsequent application for Federation aid by the remnants of the Romulan Empire, the cold war between the two governments was no more. Even so, the Frontier was clearly recognised as Federation space and these ships had no business being here. Furthermore, it appeared the ships had been expecting their arrival, having followed them under cloak and brazenly maintaining that pursuit, even now when they were discovered.

It was now evident the disruptor they’d heard in the doomed message from the Columbus originated from these ships. Further to that, if they were responsible for the attack on a ship in Federation space, there were only two possibilities. The Romulan government was more desperate than they ever believed or this was a rogue element, in which case, the Maverick was in a lot of trouble.

“Whatever it is, it can’t be good,” Buck growled. “Captain, they’re probably jamming us but we should try and get a message through to Starfleet.”

“Do it,” Chris agreed.

“JD, try and get it out on subspace and if you can’t, use a tachyon pulse like we did when we were fighting the Dominion.”

JD nodded, recalling their perilous state during that incident when they were surrounded by ten ships with no way to signal Starfleet for help. They may well be in the same situation since the presence of four warbirds was comparable to that previous predicament. The young ensign immediately focused on sending a message via tachyon pulse whether or not they were being jammed.

“Alex, take over the sensor array,” Buck ordered. Alex would be more use there than at the science station since they were entering a combat situation.

“Aye Sir,” she nodded, accustomed to performing the function when Ezra was busy with tactical. The Security Chief was going to have his hands full once the deadly quartet of ships made their move. Even though the warbirds had yet to state their intention, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind, the Maverick was about to enter a fight for its life.

In the meantime, Chris was taking note of how the warbirds were spreading across space around the Maverick now that they were decloaked. Each ship was positioning itself strategically like chess pieces while maintaining their pursuit in warp. Vin was keeping a suitable gap between the phalanx of battlecruisers but Chris had no doubt when it came time to attack, the ships would attempt to trap the Maverick in a kill zone.

“Vin,” Chris said quietly.

“I see it, Chris,” the Officer of the Con answered automatically, once again exhibiting that uncanny ability to sense what the captain was thinking without needing to hear Chris say it.

“You know what to do.”

“Compensating,” Vin drawled, wearing his customary unflappable expression even as his fingers moved furiously over the helm controls. While Vin was keeping enough of a gap between the Maverick and the four ships, he was resisting the urge to widen the distance until it was necessary. When the time came, the burst of acceleration might be the only advantage the Maverick had against the odds. “I’m laying in a course to the Vikaris Quasar if we have to make a run for it.”

It wasn’t a case of it but rather when Chris was certain but did not voice it just yet. Even though the warbirds were maintaining their distance, Chris knew this was a temporary state of affairs.

“What are they waiting for?” Mary asked. This was only the second time she’d been engaged in combat like this and she did not possess the jaded composure of the other bridge officers.

“They have a card to play,” Ezra found himself saying. “I suspect they require something of us and will not attack until they are certain whether we will surrender it. For the moment, their shields are raised but they have yet to power weapons.”

“It’s one thing to take out a survey ship Mary,” Chris explained. “Taking out a starship, especially the Maverick is going to bring down hellfire and brimstone. Whoever they are, they may want to avoid that unless absolutely necessary.”

“Chris, if we’re in for a fight...” Buck hated to be pessimistic about their chances but four warbirds were nothing to take lightly.

“We’ll use the cloak if we have to,” Chris said firmly, surprising just about everyone on the bridge.

While the Maverick possessed the ability to cloak, they had never used it, not even when they were fighting the Dominion strike force almost a year ago. However, the Maverick was outgunned and everyone on the bridge knew it. This time, they didn’t have shield codes to disable the Cardassians and it had taken a Hail Mary pass on Chris’ part to take out one warbird, let alone four.

“Chris,” Mary, ever the Protocol Officer was the first to speak. “We can’t. Our agreement with the Romulans...”

“We don’t have a choice,” Chris cut her off, not meeting her eyes as he spoke. “There’s four of them and one of us, if they catch us in a kill zone, we’re done. As it is, we’re not going to get out of this without heavy damage. We need every advantage we can get.”

Mary frowned but understood the situation. “Of course.”

“Under the circumstances, I believe we are justified in utilizing the cloak since they have clearly violated our space by sending four warships into Federation territory,” Ezra added, supporting the Captain’s position wholeheartedly.

When the soft beeping sound cut through their conversation across the bridge, emanating from JD’s communication and navigation station, Chris was almost expecting it

“Captain, they’re hailing us.”

“Here we go,” Chris replied, getting to his feet as he prepared to face the enemy on the view screen. Wearing an expression of cool deliberation, appearing not at all concerned by the numbers against them, Chris nodded at JD. “Let’s hear it.”

When the viewer shifted from the view of the four warbirds, Chris was faced with the image of a woman seated in the command chair of the enemy ship’s bridge.

Despite the circumstances, Chris could not help but notice she was one of the most stunning women he had ever laid eyes on. While Mary was still the most compelling woman he had ever seen, the woman staring at him through the view screen was utterly breathtaking. Even Buck who was sitting next to him gaped in appreciation at the sight of her. Unlike most Romulans, she did not wear her hair in the short, functional bangs favoured by both men and women of her race. Instead, she wore it long over her shoulders. With her upswept eyebrows, near-angelic features and sparkling indigo eyes, this was a face that could have launched a thousand ships.

Although she held a position of obvious command, she was not wearing the blocky, angular clothes of a Romulan military uniform. Instead, she wore figure-hugging pants, a dark form-fitting jacket and high collared shirt. Strapped to her hip was the holster for a disruptor. If anything, she looked more like a pirate than she did the commander of a Romulan warbird.

“Lorral!” Ezra exclaimed, his recognition of the woman shaking his normally unreadable poker face.

Chris shot his Security Chief a look. “From Riga 3?”

The mention of Riga 3 caused a ripple effect for just about everyone on the bridge as no one held fond memories of the place. The Maverick had been sent into Romulan space in a joint operation between Starfleet and the Empire, to determine the presence of illegal genetic testing being carried out by a rogue Romulan element. Whilst there, they’d discovered a facility commanded by Sub-Commander Lorral of the Tal Shiar who was conducting horrific experiments on captured Jem’Hadar subjects.

The mission, which had been undertaken by Ezra Standish, Alexandra Styles, and her ex-fiancé Dylan Pierce, was nearly derailed by Vin Tanner who was suffering the worst stages of Pon Farr at the time. It also resulted in the death of Pierce, the rescue of a lone Jem’Hadar survivor and the escape of Lorral, whom they believed had taken refuge with the Breen. It appeared her ambitions far exceeded anything they had imagined.

Lorral’s brow arched at the revelation of her identity. Chris could see her eyes narrow in calculation and dislike at being unmasked so prematurely. However, the anger lasted only a second before the facade of cool indifference returned to her features.

“You seem to have the advantage, of me Captain Larabee,” Lorral said coolly, her eyes clearly searching the bridge and settling on Ezra, trying to determine if she knew him. “I do not recall having met you.”

Chris shot Ezra another look, telling him to remain silent before he faced front again and addressed the woman directly.

“We’re not here to play catch up,” Chris said quickly, not liking the hatred he’d seen briefly surfacing in her eyes for the Security Chief. He knew the look well enough to know he didn’t want her forming any kind of grudge that would lead her to target Ezra later on. Besides, at the time Ezra had been surgically modified to resemble a Romulan so there was no reason she would recognise him. “What are you doing in our space?”

“It’s hardly your space,” she pointed out. “This is the Frontier and you’re here, mining the region to create seed worlds for your Federation. Until that happens, it still open territory.”

“Not according to the Treaty of Algeron,” Mary said promptly, well aware of what borders had been mapped in regard to what was Federation territory and what was Romulan space. While the area might be largely uncharted, it was still very much designated Federation territory.

“We do not recognise that treaty,” Lorral snorted, “nor do we recognise your authority in this area. In any case, we are not aligned with the Empire.”

“Then who are you aligned with?” Chris demanded his fears that this was a rogue group confirmed. It made sense of course. In the chaos following the destruction of Romulus, it was only natural an opportunist might seek to take advantage of the situation by convincing the survivors, it was best to leave a crumbling society behind to begin anew.

“No one,” Lorral declared. “We are the Vriha.”

Mary shot a look over her shoulder at Alex, an action that did not escape Chris.

Since her marriage to Vin Tanner, Alex had made it a point to study what she could about Vulcan culture with Mary’s help. After what had almost happened to Vin during Pon Farr and knowing how adverse her husband was to exploring his Vulcan roots, Alex had been conducting research on his behalf in case a similar situation arose in the future.

Since Vin lacked nearly all the disciplines modern Vulcans were taught from infancy, Alex had focussed her attention in learning how pre-Surak Vulcans manage their emotions. It gave her a thorough understanding of their history and some expertise regarding the split that led to the formation of the Romulan Empire.

“Captain,” Alex spoke up. “Vriha t’Rehu was the name of an ancient Romulan ruler, who called herself the Ruling Queen. She led the Vulcans-in-Exile before they became the Romulan Empire we know today.”

“The Romulan Empire is gone,” Lorral snapped. “It was diminished the minute it chose to ally itself with the Federation against the Dominion.”

Chris absorbed what Alex said and gestured the Science Officer to hold off any comments for now. He’d get her report about it later after they’d extricated themselves from this situation. If they lived long enough that is.

“That may be, but you are still in violation of our space. Return to Romulan territory immediately or face the consequences.” Chris stated, showing no signs of being intimidated despite the formidable number of ships surrounding the Maverick. Besides, she knew as well as he did, he was making an empty threat. Right now, he was only interested in keeping her talking and making her believe he was willing to negotiate a way out of this situation. It was the time he and his crew needed to get out of here.

“I think you are mistaken about your situation Captain,” Lorral stared at him coldly. “We outgun you four to one and we are more than prepared to blow your ship out of the sky. We have business in this part of space we are not prepared to unveil at this time, so we cannot have you go running back to your Federation to tell tales. At this moment, you have one chance and one chance only to save your crew.”

“And that is?”

Without even hearing it, Chris knew it was an offer he was not going to accept.

“You surrender your ship and I will personally guarantee it that you and your crew are unharmed while you remain our guests.”

From the tactical station, Chris heard Ezra snorting in disbelief. Chris couldn’t blame the Security Chief for his scepticism. It was Ezra who entered the facility where Lorral conducted her experimentation on the Jem’Hadar prisoners and his reports described in vivid detail, the tableau of horror he’d seen there. The woman was a monster and there was no way in hell Chris would subject any of his crew to her callous ministrations.

Chris showed no reaction to her offer and merely responded calmly, “I will need time to consider it.”

“You have sixty seconds before we open fire,” Lorral said mercilessly. She knew Larabee by reputation and while he might appear to be considering her offer, it was more likely the man was planning something. She was not foolish enough to give him the time to enact any escape attempt.

“Understood. Standby for our response in one minute.”

No sooner than the viewer had been deactivated, Chris turned sharply to Ezra. “Activate the cloak! Vin get us out of here at maximum acceleration!”

Without skipping a beat, Vin immediately kicked the Maverick into high warp, sending the ship lurching forward violently as it pulled away from the four warbirds like a streaking comet. While the Romulans ship had formidable armaments, the nature of its quantum singularity drive made reaching maximum acceleration less efficient than that of Galaxy-class starships.

Speed and their cloak was the only advantage the Maverick had at this time and Chris was wasting neither.

“On screen!”

The viewer showed the four warbirds growing smaller in the rear but this was a situation Chris knew would not last for long. Even now, he could see the flare of their engines as Lorral ordered them to give chase.

“Cloak activated!” Ezra declared, as his fingers flew over the tactical console. As the ship disappeared from Romulan sensors, the Maverick was still vulnerable. The use of the cloak meant they could not raise shields and were vulnerable to disruptor fire and Romulan torpedoes.

“Engineering come in!” Chris tapped his com badge.

“Engineering standing by Captain, what do you need?” The voice of Julia Pemberton was heard of the coms. Julia had been monitoring the situation from the Engineering deck as soon as the yellow alert had been sounded and was poised to act on whatever the Captain demanded.

“I want all power diverted to the propulsion systems,” Chris ordered. “I want you to give Vin every gigajoule of power you can squeeze out of the main drive to maintain maximum warp at all costs. Warbirds can’t accelerate beyond Warp 9.6 so we’ve got to do better until we can get away!”

“I’ll give him everything I can!” Julia replied but her words were cut off by Ezra’s exclamation.

“They’re firing!” Ezra warned, expecting they would once the Maverick began its flight. Although the warbirds couldn’t see the Maverick under cloak, there were more than enough ships in pursuit to fire an enormous amount of firepower in their direction to get lucky with a stray shot.

“Evasive pattern delta!” Chris barked at Vin. “Get us to the Vikaris quasar!”

Meanwhile, Buck was communicating with the rest of the ship. “All hands! Battle stations!”

RED ALERT! RED ALERT

The warning flashed across every console panel across the Maverick when the first barrage of disruptor fire struck the ship.

Hallways, corridors and common areas were bathed with the red glow of warning. With yellow alert sending all non-essential personnel scurrying to their quarters and traffic throughout the ship restricted to those who had somewhere to be, the shift to red alert changed the expectation of attack to an inevitability. Those who weren’t actively engaged in the defence of the ship, including the families of the crew, secured themselves at locations in their quarters free from falling objects and away from windows. Inez Recillos had taken refuge inside her closet, confident it was the safest place to until the barrage was over.

In engineering, Assistant Chief Engineer Chanu was mobilising damage crews, sending them across the ship to assess, report and repair affected systems, leaving the Chief Engineer free to maintain the warp core while the Captain demanded the impossible. The initial volley of disruptor fire had struck the secondary hull and only emergency force fields had prevented explosive decompression, giving occupants in those affected decks enough time to evacuate. It was not wise to remain because any loss of power would mean being blown out into a vacuum.

Meanwhile, in Sick Bay, Josiah Sanchez had joined Nathan Jackson, lending his assistance to deal with the casualties that would inevitably come. While it had been quite some time since Josiah had been called on to use his skills as a healer of flesh, a recent first aid refresher meant he could be of some value to the doctor. For his part, Nathan was bracing himself for casualties because the Maverick was undertaking this fight without the benefit of its deflector shields due to the cloak, and that meant when the ship took a hit, it would be hard.

******

The bridge was bathed in a deep reddish glow as the klaxons screaming urgency now switched to the shrill cry of panic. While the damage had been confined to the secondary hull, the energy spike from Romulan disruptors caused all consoles on the bridge to blink momentarily, with one or two panels sparking in displeasure at the overload of assaulting power. Every officer on the bridge, sitting or standing, struggled to remain in their positions, as the ship shuddered around them, taking the worst of the bombardment without the shields to protect them. 

Chris clenched Mary’s arm when he saw she was nearly thrown out of her seat, while Buck managed to remain in his by clutching the information station next to the first officer’s chair. Behind them, Ezra and Alex were clutching the edges of tactical and security stations steadfastly, while JD was unseated from the navigation station while Vin remained in place by sheer determination, bracing his feet against the floor beneath Conn. With the survival of the Maverick depending on maintaining their lead against the Romulan ships. It was utterly imperative Vin was not distracted in any way.

“Damage report!”

Without shields, Buck was expecting significant damage to the Maverick after that barrage and his fears were confirmed when reports flooded the display of his information station.

“We’ve got heavy damage to the secondary hull and our navigational array is inoperative,” he reported, meeting Chris’ gaze before barking out orders. “Damage control teams, report to Decks 12, 5 and 9!”

“Did they get a fix on us?” Chris demanded, watching two of the warbirds in pursuit directly behind them while the other two ships were fanning out further, firing blindly into space, trying to detect signs of impact.

“I do not believe so,” Ezra answered studying the attack pattern on the tactical console. “They are laying down a full spread with as wide a dispersal range as possible.” As he said those words, the Maverick shook violently again. While it had not taken a hit, they were feeling the blasts without the protection of their shields. “I believe they are on a blast fishing expedition.”

“Well they can’t see us, so they’re putting out as much fire power out there to see what they can hit."  Chris said understanding the tactic. “At least they haven’t decided to hit with photon torpedoes yet. Distance to enemy warbirds.”

“1000 kilometres,” Alex answered automatically, “but they’re pouring all power into propulsions. They’re trying to close the distance.”

“How long until we reach the Vikaris Quasar?” Chris asked. The quasar, with its high intensity energy fields, was capable of disrupting sensors. If the Maverick could reach it, the ship could take refuge in its gravimetric currents to avoid detection and wait for Starfleet to send reinforcements. While Chris hated hiding from anyone, he was realistic enough to know one galaxy class ship was incapable of facing off four D’Deridex class warbirds.

When they’d fought the Dominion, Chris had the advantage of the enemy needing the ship in one piece. As long as the Dominion needed the Maverick’s computer core, they could not destroy the ship. No such restraint held back Lorral, who obviously needed secrecy to establish her foothold in the Frontier. The only course she had, save of capturing the Maverick was destroying her outright and Chris suspected, she had no particular preference on which.

“At current speed, three hours,” JD replied, having climbed back into his seat and was facing the navigation station once more.

“They’re going to be dogging us every step of the way,” Buck grumbled.

“It won’t matter if we get to the quasar,” Chris replied as another burst of disruptor fire caused the Maverick to shake again. This one was nowhere as close as the last blast. “We just got to stay ahead of them. Vin maintain maximum warp.”

“Aye Captain,” Vin replied automatically, his cobalt coloured eyes fixed on his console as his fingers flew over the controls, to increase the Maverick’s speed to maintain their lead. Mindful of the damage the ship was suffering each time a disruptor blast detonated too close to them, Vin tried to manoeuvre the ship around the deadly discharge.

“I’d love to shove a photon torpedo down their throats,” Buck said, studying the effect of the last discharge on the Maverick and was grateful there was no significant damage. Engineering had the repair crews working hard to keep the Maverick together before they can make their escape.

“Too close,” Chris said promptly before Ezra could and knew Buck’s statement was rhetorical. Besides, Buck knew as well as Chris did, the instant they fired a torpedo, they’d be giving away their position to the Romulans and at this range, risk crippling themselves without the shields. At the moment, the Maverick’s only advantage was the cloak and the distance they could gain on the Romulan ships. Warbirds couldn’t exceed a speed of Warp 9.6 but if they diverted all power to propulsions as Chris had ordered Julia to do, the Maverick could reach 9.9.

“I can’t understand what she’s doing,” Mary shook her head. “How can Lorral simply believe she can just establish a foothold in our space and get away with it.”

“She’s probably gambling on how much effort we’re spend on removing her, if she entrenches herself deeply enough. With four warbirds, with a crew complement of 700 people and let’s assume she’s exceeded capacity of those ships, we could be looking at a total of about 4000 people establishing a new settlement. The way Romulus is right now, starting fresh just beyond the Kurlan system, could be...”

Chris didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence before he was confronted with the unbelievable sound of panic in Ezra Standish’s voice.

No matter what the situation, Ezra always managed to maintain a facade of calm, whether it was announcing ten ships about to capture them or a Borg level threat about to obliterate them. That damnable poker face was something Chris had come to rely on because the Security Chief’s confidence in the situation meant they were doing okay, even if things seemed immediately dire.

“Captain they’re firing torpedoes at full spread!”

“Evasive manoeuvres Vin, right now!” Chris fairly shouted because at this range, being struck by a photon torpedo without shields would obliterate them.

“Hell yeah!” Vin declared, switching to evasive pattern beta, where the ship lurched violently as it banked hard, avoiding one of the torpedoes before angling sharply downward to avoid the other. However, instead of hurtling forward, searching for a new target, the torpedoes suddenly detonated in space. In fact, all the torpedoes in the spread followed suit, exploding like tiny novas across the dark canvas.

“What the hell?” Vin exclaimed, puzzled.

“Oh no!” Alex exclaimed from her station, her face turning ashen. “Captain, they are high yield torpedoes set at Level 6!”

“Level 6?” Buck exclaimed. “That won’t even penetrate...”

“Oh shit!” Chris swore, the realisation dawned on him as he met Alex’s eyes and he reached the conclusion she had. “They’re not meant to hit us! They’re meant to destabilise the cloak!”

No sooner than he had said those words, the resulting wave of energy from the exploding torpedoes rushed towards them. He knew the tactic as well and recalled attempting to employ the same strategy when they were faced with trying to detect a cloaked Dominion fleet.

“Vin! Get us out of range!” Chris ordered but knew it was a futile effort.

“Already on it!” Vin shouted and took the Maverick past Warp 9.8 to escape the expanding energy field of emerald approaching them quickly. As the ship lurched forward, the hum of the engines intensified, until it felt as if the Maverick’s heart was pounding loudly in their ears. Despite Vin’s swift reflexes, there was no way the Maverick could outrun the deadly wave and its effect on the ship was immediate.

No sooner than the wave reached the hull of the Maverick, the null space where the starship had remained concealed began to cackle with spidery webs of energy. The saucer section appeared first, appearing through space like a leviathan emerging from the depths of a dark ocean. The instant the Maverick appeared in normal space, the four Romulan warbirds altered their trajectory, changing course to intercept.

On the Maverick itself, the extreme danger of becoming visible was coupled with the equally debilitating power surges. The energy wave from the photon torpedo barrage overloaded systems all across the ship. Unwanted energy surged through the wiring, bio-neural fibres and isolinear circuitry, causing ship wide overloads through conduits and relays. Across the Maverick, the massive surge culminated in violent discharges at consoles and terminals throughout the ship, with severity enough to cause fires, prompting emergency containment force fields fell into place.

On the bridge, the navigation station gave JD just enough warning with its flickering screen and its burst of static energy for the young ensign to move a second before it exploded. The console shattered sending a deadly spray of glass into the air. JD raised his arms to shield his face from being cut to ribbons as he fell off his chair. However, the energy spike lashed at him, making JD curl up into a ball as the pain wracked his body.

At the Conn, Vin flinched, wanting to help him but unable to do so because now that they were visible, it was doubly important for him to be focussed on maintaining the Maverick’s narrow lead against their enemies. As it was, there were cuts on his cheek where stray shards from JD’s exploding console had bit into his skin. HIs uniform had shielded him from the worst of it, but he could still feel fragments biting into his arm and side. Vin ignored the stinging pain or the urge to look over his shoulder to see if Alex was alright.

If he wanted to save her life, he had to keep the Maverick ahead of the Romulans.

“JD!” Buck jumped out of his seat and saw the young man lying across the floor, glass covering his uniform, twitching from the energy spike he’d been unable to escape. Upon reaching him, Buck’s stomach clenched, seeing the sections of his uniform burnt, exposing the charred flesh of his shoulder and ribs. JD was trying to control the pain through gritted teeth even though he looked like he was ready to gag.

“Bridge to Sick Bay,” Buck tapped his com badge. “We need someone up here now! JD’s been hurt!”

“I’ll come up there myself!” Nathan replied promptly. “Can’t spare anyone else at the moment, we’ve got casualty reports across the ship. Mostly second-degree and third-degree burns!”

“Hurry!” Buck growled, trying to ignore the scent of burnt flesh he knew was JD’s.

“Buck,” Mary hurried to the First Officer, “I can stay with him. You’re needed.”

Buck was torn between wanting to stay at the young man’s side and doing his duty but in the end, his responsibility was more to just this ensign who meant so much to him. He had a ship full of people who were relying on him and a Captain who needed to be free of operational matters, to get them out of their current predicament.

“Thanks, Mary,” Buck offered her a look of gratitude before getting to his feet and returning to his seat so he could look at how much damage had been caused by the power surge.

As expected, the disruption of the cloak brought the Romulans warbirds back into attack formation. Chris watched as the four ships appear on the view screen, determined to close the distance. Lorral was a lot smarter than he gave her credit for. While she was a member of the Tal Shiar, an agency primarily responsible for espionage, it appeared the woman was also a formidable battlefield commander.

He wouldn’t underestimate her again. The loss of one advantage was more than they could afford to

“Ezra status!” Chris demanded.

“As anticipated, our esteemed opponents were successful in their deployment of the high yield photon torpedo barrage at Level 6, our cloak is down.”

“Engineering, what are chances of re-establishing the cloak?” Chris demanded.

“None Captain,” Julia replied with a frown and even though Ezra couldn’t see her face, he could imagine the anger on her lovely features at having to make such a bitter admission. “The relays are burnt out. It will take at least three hours to replace them and we’d have to take the deflectors offline. As it is, we’re lucky we didn’t sustain any damage there. We could have lost our shields.”

“Acknowledged,” Chris considered what was to be done next. The Romulans were still lagging but that didn’t mean the warbirds couldn’t make them pay for every inch of space they covered between their present location and the Vikaris Quasar. “Julia, I want you to reinforce our shields by powering off all non-essential systems.”

Without skipping a beat, he turned to Buck. “Get everyone to congregate at common areas, Four Corners, holodecks, observation decks, cargo hold bays, whatever you can think off. We may need to tap into life support power and we can’t do that if we have one thousand people scattered across the ship.”

“Gotcha,” Buck nodded and began issuing the orders from his station to the rest of the ship to that effect. He hoped Josiah was on hand to calm everybody down because this action was going to frighten a lot of people. For once Buck was grateful Chris had ordered non-essential personnel to remain on DS5.

“Engineering, whatever happens, we need our shields at full strength and be able to maintain Warp 9.9 at the same time. Because if they can’t slow us down, they’re going to take us apart piece by piece before we get to wherever we’re going.”

Julia’s protest was almost reflex. Captain, we can’t maintain power to the shields and sustain Warp 9.9 at the same time, we’ll risk destabilising the warp core. As it is, we’re picking up the pieces from that last torpedo blast!”

“Lieutenant,” Chris spoke with a hard edge to his voice that made everyone on the bridge flinch upon hearing it. “If we don’t keep ahead of those warbirds, we’ll never get to the Vikaris Quasar!”

There was a slight pause before Julia replied in a sober tone. “Understood Captain.”

“Captain, they’re powering up weapons again!” Ezra announced.

“Raise shields!” Chris ordered. They were outgunned in every way but he was damned if they were taking his ship or his crew.

Ezra almost let out a sigh of satisfaction at being able to activate the shields. While he understood the need for the cloak to acquire their narrow lead on the enemy ships, the idea of facing four warbirds without their shields went against the grain. If even one of those ships had scored a direct hit upon them while they were cloaked, they could have been destroyed.

“Shields up!” He announced just as the Maverick shuddered again. This time, the Romulans were no longer firing blindly, they knew exactly where their quarry was and their aim was deadly accurate. Across the Maverick, the ship’s klaxons whined in protest as it shook off the enemy fire.

“Shields are holding!” Alex declared next to Ezra, working in tandem with the Security Chief because he would be busy at the firing station. Despite their perseverance however, she knew once those ships converged and began a united assault, the Maverick was not going to be able to maintain its shield strength.

“Fire all phasers!” Chris ordered, now that everyone had taken off their gloves.

“With pleasure Captain!” Ezra returned, his fingers moving faster across the console than his ability to shuffle a deck of cards. A continuous beam of amber energy surged out of the Maverick’s phaser banks, impacting against the Romulans ships, creating a brief mirage in space as the deadly energy bounced off their deflectors. Around them, the Maverick’s engines continued to hum louder, as if reaching crescendo the faster they travelled.

“Two of the warbirds are breaking off,” Alex announced, as her eyes tracked the warbirds on her console.

Chris could see for himself on the view screen. Half their number was continuing a direct pursuit but the other half was splitting up, attempting to flank the galaxy class starship in an effort to slow it down. With the cloak disabled, the Romulans were not wasting time, lashing out with disruptor blasts, trying to disable the ship before it got far enough ahead to launch photon torpedoes.

“They’re trying to cut us off.” Buck guessed accurately.

“They’re trying to trap us in a kill zone,” Chris declared. “Vin, evasive action!”

Vin didn’t reply but there was no need to. Chris could see him performing the manoeuvre. As the Maverick banked hard, not even anti-grav stabilisers could compensate and everyone found themselves stumbling as the ship tilted to an almost 90-degree turn to get past the two ships and continue its juggernaut pace towards the Vikaris Quasar.

The Maverick was still ahead of the enemy ships but not far enough to fire photon torpedoes. At this range, they’d only cripple themselves in the resulting blast, shields or not.

“Captain...” Ezra suddenly exclaimed, his expression dark with horror before the gambler's inscrutable facade fell over his face again.  “It appears one of the warbirds are firing photon torpedoes!”

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