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Star Trek: Ithaca
Episode One: “Welcome to the Ark”

Nine months ago…
The crew quarters aboard the USS Adirondack were modest, yet comfortable. They were certainly a marked improvement from Ayesha Gadde’s previous accommodations at the Starfleet Penal Colony on Raxnar Prime. In fact, any room with running water and a temperature that didn’t blister the skin would be considered luxurious in comparison to the cell she had called home for nearly four years. When her friend, Admiral Dawson, approached her two days earlier in her dungeon, she was a broken woman; a husk of her previous self. With more than a decade and a half left on her sentence, it was clear to Ayesha that she would die in incarceration long before she completed her term of imprisonment. Thus, her choice to rejoin Starfleet at Dawson’s request simple one.

As she peered out of the room’s viewport, Ayesha watched as Raxnar Prime slowly faded away into the distance. Ayesha fought back tears as she succumbed to realisation that she was freed from the hell to which she had been banished. The stars became streaks as the Adirondack went to warp. Ayesha caught her reflection in the viewport and hardly recognised the woman looking back. The authorities at Raxnar hadn’t allowed her time to bathe or freshen up. She stunk and she was covered in a thin layer of grim and ore dust from the mines. Her clothes were tattered shreds and he ached in every joint and muscle.

Ayesha managed to make her way to the bathroom through sheer force of will. The area illuminated as she approached the sink. It wasn’t light from Raxnar’s blue giant, but she found it harsh nonetheless. As her eyes adjusted, she really saw herself for the first time in years. Her hair was tangled and matted into what could only be described as dreadlocks and had grown to her shoulders. Her face and skin had become rough and weathered. Her eyes had become vacant and devoid of life. Raxnar had nearly stripped away all semblances of her humanity. Still, she managed to find a pair of sheers that had been left for her. She hacked away at the matted locks that hung from her head. Slowly and first, then with a haste that spoke to her desire to be anything but the woman in the mirror. She came to a point where she nearly removed all vestiges of her the dreadlocks before stopping and picked up a razor. Selecting the ‘number one’ setting on the razor, she began sweeping the small device over her head until she looked almost respectable. She nodded to herself in satisfaction with the finished product, but remained stoic as she looked down at the dreadlocks on the bathroom floor, which for years had served as a reminder of what brought her to Raxnar.

Though only a few steps away, the sonic shower seemed kilometres away as she shed her rags in pursuit of a cleaner future. The low hum flowed over and around her as it washed away years of muck and grime. Ayesha Gadde, the prisoner, circled the drain and disappeared into oblivion as Ayesha Gadde, the Starfleet Officer, emerged into the quarters.

Ayesha allowed herself a moment of solace. She walked over to the closet and found her uniform hanging handsomely. The pips sparkled and she would have allowed herself a smile if she wasn’t immediately reminded of her impending mission’s low probability of success. Still, she knew she’d make the most of her second chance. If there was a way to succeed, to make the Ark work, she would find it. Instead of her uniform, Ayesha reached for a pair of pyjamas and threw them on. They clung to her blistered flesh painfully.

The bed in the middle of the room called to her. Providing they didn’t run into the Dominion, the Starbase 185 was still several days away at the very least. She was exhausted and nothing left to give to the day. She collapsed onto the mattress and realised that it was so soft it hurt. She tossed and turned, but could not get comfortable. Finally, she got out of bed and fell to the floor. It reminded her of her cell’s floor and, as sickening as it was, she immediately felt comfortable.

As she drifted off to sleep, Ayesha contemplated her future. She wondered if he had traded one form of damnation for another. Either way, she was alive and she felt like herself for the first time in years. The future was full of unknowns, but she would make it her own…

*_*_*_*

The stares were expected. Growing up, Sojen learned to ignore the gawking and huddled whispers. His mother did her best to shelter him and raise him in the principles of Vulcan doctrine. It proved to be a losing battle.
As Vulcans expanded their range of exploration and participated in the formation of the Federation, half-breeds like him became more commonplace. Though still rare, a Vulcan would still likely encounter a half-breed at some point during their life.
His mother had been an aide to the Vulcan Ambassador to Betazed. While on a diplomatic mission, she found herself stranded on a Betazoid colony whilst in the throes of pon farr. She found a Betazoid politician sympathetic to her situation. Several months later, after a return to Vulcan, Sojen was born.

Now, as he roamed the corridors of the starship Airedale, destined for Starbase 185 and his first assignment since graduating Starfleet Academy only a month ago, he couldn't help but sense what the passing crew had felt about him. Confusion gripped most, while bemusement and attraction and contempt were a few other emotions he experienced. It was only recently that Sojen fully embraced his empathic abilities.
Before joining Starfleet, Sojen had attempted to make a life for himself on Betazed, but found acclimating to life there no simpler than on Vulcan. When it was discovered that Sojen was not only experiencing emotions wilfully, but also causing those around him to feel their own emotions by proxy, he was labeled a danger to Vulcan ideals and expelled from the Vulcan Science Academy. It didn't help that during the investigation into his influence on other Vulcans, that they found copies of the forbidden teachings of the dissident, Sybok.
Vulcan genes were typically very strong and Sojen had inherited many of the characteristics which readily identified one as Vulcan. His ears were elongated, but they lacked a distinctive point and his eyebrows, while raised, were not as steep as most Vulcans.
Further setting him apart from his Vulcan brethren, Sojan was adorned with a beard, one that he grew after joining a group of fellow V'tosh ka'tur; Vulcans without logic.

Sojen found his temporary quarters, the trip to 185 was only in its infancy and the Airedale still had several other stops to make before it would reach it’s final destination. He slinked and let the doors shut behind him before he broke down. He slid to the floor and pulled his knees close to his chest and began to sob. From the other side of his door he could sense the suspicions of the others.His sadness was replaced by rage and defiance. He shot up and clenched a fist. He'd been run out of Vulcan. He'd been ostracised on Betazed. He graduated the Academy through sheer will alone. He would not be chased off this ship. Better things were on the horizon, soon Starbase 185 would be his home and he’d very likely be there for some time…

*_*_*_*

Present Day…
Starbase 185 grew larger and ever so more impressive as the runabout grew nearer.
The Starbase was a relatively new, modified Rugula-Class starbase and was the hub of activity as various craft manoeuvred around her. Located deep within the Beta-Quadrant in the Brilnari-Star System, beyond the Typhon-Expanse and lightyears away from Deep Space Five, Starbase 185, under the command of Fleet Captain Jonathan Pierce was located in the Iota-Leonis Sector, an area of space that was un-affectionally known as ‘The Dark Side of the Romulan Empire.’ Four Starfleet starships were docked at the outer docking ports, a fair way away from the main body of the super-structure. Cargo carriers and work bees ferried supplies, equipment and crewmen from the starships to the various loading bays that were open to the vacuum of space, protected by forcefields, to prevent the teams working inside from succumbing to the void. Every now and again, when one of the pods would enter or exit the loading bays, the forcefields would flicker as they passed through.
Beyond the starbase and the docked vessels a fleet of Federation starships lay, their hulls bathed in a blue green hue from the nearby Hawkeye Nebula and on high alert, standing ready, waiting for the Dominion. They were so far away from the front lines, that their commanders knew that they may never have to engage their enemy, but nonetheless, they stood fast in case that day came, always waiting, always watching.
The runabout swung down low underneath the habitat pods, before sweeping up high to encircle the command centre -she was moving fast, giving off the impression that she was being chased by an unknown assailant. The runabout’s pilots clearly knew how to handle the craft as they manoeuvred the vessel packed with new arrivals, dignitaries and officials around the grand starbase that was affectionately known as ‘The Ark.’
Starbase 185 was humanity’s last outpost, their last chance at survival should the Dominion War bring an end to the Federation and Earth. Protected by a fleet of ships, the base was under constant supervision and her relatively unseasoned crew living in fear that one day they may be called upon, called upon to preserve the human race.

The rear door to the runabout parted shortly after it set down in the starbase’s main hangar bay. The lower half slowly descended and created the ramp on which the passengers could depart. The ramp had barely been established before a young crewman ran out of the runabout and fell to his hands and knees and proceeded to vomit profusely.
"Ha!" a voice called from within the runabout. The craft's pilot, Lieutenant Commander Sam Hood, emerged at the rear hatch with pure elation on his face. He clapped his hand on the shoulder of his co-pilot. "I told you I'd get one of them to throw up. You owe me five strips of latinum!"
"Not so fast, Sam," Chief Connor Hudson countered, “…the bet was that it would happen while aboard the runabout. It's you who owes me." Hudson was smug in his apparent reversal of fortune.
Sam gestured to the quivering crewman still retching as the other passengers departed and giving him a wide berth. "He's on the ramp! He's not officially on board the starbase until he has both feet on the deck plating. Therefore, he's still on my ship and I win the wager."

Hudson knew the regulation to which Sam was referring and knew he'd lost this bet, even if on a sliver of a technicality. "I'll stop by your quarters later," Connor said in a conciliatory tone.
Hood’s laughter filled the docking bay and Hudson departed with his tail between his legs. Sam walked over to the crewman who had begun to collect himself, all the while avoiding his mess. "Sorry, friend," he said as tousled his victim's hair. "Look on the bright side; you just made me a little richer."
The crewman looked up at Sam, still looking a little green. "That was the worst flight I've ever been on," he said fighting back the urge to expel another wave of his insides. "I can't believe they let you fly shuttles."
Another roil of deep laughter bellowed from Sam. He held his arm out to display several of the Federation attack fighters that were parked opposite the runabout. "Oh? Then you'll be in real disbelief when you hear that I’m in command of that fleet of fighters parked over there.”
“Wait, what? You’re the tactical flight squadron leader?”
“I sure am. Commander Sam Hood, pleasure…” he didn’t get a chance to finish his introduction, the crewman lost his battle of wills with his own space sickness and began to vomit again. Sam sidestepped the projected bile and sauntered through the hangar while whistling a vaguely familiar tone.

Sam Hood; lieutenant commander, adventurer, gambler and best pilot to ever come out of New Berlin. At least, in his opinion anyways.

*_*_*_*

Most of the crew had arrived, the hub of activity that encircled the starbase station had slowed somewhat -which, for Ensign Bobby Young made for a somewhat lacklustre arrival. There was no pomp or ceremony, no fanfare, no meet and greet with the senior staff -not that he was expecting any of that of course, but a simple, ‘hello, welcome aboard’ would have been nice.
Stepping out of the Airedale’s airlock and onto the starbase, the ensign took a second to breathe all of this in. He only graduated from the Starfleet Academy a year a go and had spent the last eleven months aboard the Airedale, but this was different, this was his first starbase, his first assignment aboard a deep space starbase.
“Hello,” -a polite voice spoke, “You must be Robert?” -the man spoke.
Bobby was immediately transfixed, the officer had the most unusual orangey yellow eyes. “Erm, sorry, what?”
“Ensign Young?” -the non-commissioned officer asked.
“Yes, yes…” -snapping out of the momentary trance, “Yes, reporting for duty -it’s my first Starbase.” -he cutely smiled.
The Akkadian officer, somewhat older than Young and wearing gold matched the eager young ensign’s smile, “Well, hello, I’m Chief Sen Doval, tactical officer. I’ve been asked to show you around before the Atalanta pulls in to dock.”
“Really?” -Bobby was a little surprised, “you really don’t have too, I have been studying the schematics and know my way around.”
“No no, I insist.” -Doval replied, trying to calm the young man, “truth is, the Atalanta is running late, so Commander Gadde asked me me to distract you for a little while.”
“Well, consider me distracted.” -Young wryly replied…

Fifteen minutes later, the officers arrived at sickbay; the door’s swished open to reveal Doctor Grace Shaw, a recent edition to 185’s crew frantically getting everything ready to begin her work with the Atalanta’s chief science officer. Grace noticed the pair stood in the doorway, “Are you here to fix the bio-replicators? Bloody thing’s been down for the best part of an hour?”
Doval shook his head, “No m’am, I’m giving Mr. Young here at tour of the starbase” the chief replied.”
Bobby’s eagerness to be here had been somewhat quelled, Sen had been thoroughly meticulous in explaining how everything worked on the starbase. Bobby had been praying for the Atalanta’s arrival for the past ten minutes, he wanted to report to his new assignment, to meet Commander Gadde. This was starting to feel a little staged, as though the crew were about to play a trick on him. “Well, I can take a look at it for you, doctor.”
Bobby put down his holdall on one of the empty bio-beds and asked the doctor where the bio-replicator was.
“It’s just through here.” -Shaw guided him through the hustle and bustle of the sickbay, past a team of engineers busily attempting to get the bay’s plasma relays back online and into her office. “Here it is…” -she pointed to the replicator, “…offline, just like everything else in here.”
Bobby smiled, “Not quite what you were expecting m’am?” -he asked, picking up a tricorder.
“First thing’s first…crewman?” she paused, noticing the ensign wasn’t wearing any pips on his collar, “…I’m not a m’am, I’m a doctor…Doctor Grace Shaw.”
“Oh, I’m sorry doctor…” -he replied as his fingers worked the tricorder. “…and it’s Ensign Bobby Young, actually.”
“You appear to be improperly dressed ensign,” she pointed at the two pips on her collar, indicating she held the rank of lieutenant.
“First proper posting, I’m the Atalanta’s new conn officer…” he sighed, “…if she ever gets here.” Bobby flicked several controls on the tricorder causing it’s usual hum to change to that of a repetitive high frequency chirp, “damn!”
“Problem? -Grace asked.
“The iodine relay in this tricorder is out of alignment.”
“Great, now the bloody tricorders are at it.”
Bobby, placing the tricorder on Grace’s desk, started to look around for Doval. “Where did the chief go?” -he asked, walking out of her office, looking around the sickbay.
Grace looked perplexed, she had seen Bobby walk in with the chief but had just assumed that he’d took a seat in the medical wing. “He might be through on the ward.” Bobby nodded, he smiled at Grace, “I’ll go see, it was nice to meet you, Doctor Shaw.”
“And you, Ensign Young.”
“Call me Bobby.”
Grace nodded and smiled in acknowledgment, it was clear she was busy and she promptly made her way back towards her office. “Will do!”
Doctor Shaw suddenly remembered about the replicator, "Bobby, what about the..." -but before she'd even had a chance to turn around, the ensign was gone...

Bobby crossed the corridor and went into the medical wing adjacent to the main sickbay, two large sets of quarters that had been converted into what could only be described as a ‘hospital ward.’ The monitors were powered down, only the auxiliary lighting was on, Bobby shook his head, there clearly wasn’t anyone in here so he turned on his heel and made his way back towards the doors. As he did, Bobby could have sworn he heard breathing. The dark freaking him out a little and playing tricks with his mind.
Harding immediately called for the lights. "Computer li..."
"Shhh, don't." -a familiar voice spoke. "I saw the way you looked at me.”
Then, out of the darkness a pair of yellow eyes emerged.
Slightly taken a back, Bobby jumped a little and backed up to the wall. "You're half Risan aren't you?" -the voice spoke.
Young knew it was Doval. He could feel him close by and felt himself shaking slightly.
"Yes, chief." -he nervously replied.
Harding suddenly felt a pair of hands on his chest, "Your people's reputation, is it justified?" -Doval asked, his eyes burning into Bobby’s very soul.
"I really should be going." -Bobby replied, trying to make excuses despite his urge to see what would happen if he remained here.
"I'll be waiting." -with that, the pair of yellow eyes disappeared back into the darkness…

Bobby quickly rushed out of the medical wing and back out into the corridor. He made it half way across the section, forgetting about his bag in sickbay, he made his way towards the turbolift.
Stepping inside, Bobby called for deck one and as the lift made its way up the shaft the ensign pondered what this mission was going to have install for him. Dubious about the chief’s advances, he remembered that Doval was Akkadian. He’d seen this before on Risa and at The Academy on Earth. It had something to do with Risan pheromones and the way they interfered with receptors in Akkadian brains. Bobby thanked his lucky stars that he was going to be assigned to the Atalanta and that Doval would be aboard the starbase. This certainly wasn’t the welcome he hoped for, but thankfully Bobby understood why Doval had acted the way he had. He couldn’t help it. Doval couldn’t help it. For anyone else in that situation, it would have been frightening, terrifying. An officer forcing themselves on another like that would have been grounds for report, even possible incarceration or dismissal.
Bobby shook off the encounter and straightened his uniform, making a mental note to notify Commander Gadde about what had happened between him and Doval, just in time for the turbolift's doors to open, to arrive at the command centre.
He took a deep breath and made his way out into the command centre. He waited for a second, again trying to forget about what happened a moment ago on the ward. Young was clearly nervous about meeting the rest of the crew, especially after what had just happened.
He shook his head and told himself to get it together -he'd had his fair share of sexual encounters in the past and whilst this was somewhat different, he knew that what happened below decks should remain there, right now he was ‘Ensign Robert Young,' the professional.

Surveying the expansive room, Bobby found himself in awe of the state-of-the-art command centre. Officers and crewmen went about their duties with all the look of people that had served here for years. It was hard to believe that the Starbase had only been here for just over a year. He actually felt quite at home here, despite knowing he was destined for the Atalanta.
Bobby allowed his mind to wander, he could see himself sat at one of the consoles that encircled the command centre, or working one of the stations on the upper level that were positioned in front of the panoramic windows that gave an unparalleled view of the Hawkeye Nebula.
As he stood looking around the room, Bobby watched as two senior officers made their way out of the fleet of commander's ready room and towards him. It was Commander Thomas Warren, Starbase 185’s first officer and Lieutenant Commander Charles Denver, the chief engineer.
Denver was just as handsome as his friends had described him to be.
Plucking up the courage, the young chief acknowledged the commanders and introduced himself, “Ensign Bobby Young reporting for duty."
Commander Denver offered out his hand and welcomed him aboard, "Ah, Mr. Young good to have you aboard." -Charlie spoke, shaking Bobby’s hand.
There was somewhat of an awkward pause, Commander Warren however came to the ensign’s rescue, "How are you settling in Mr. Young, exited for your new position aboard the Atalanta?”
"Oh yes, really glad to be here sir."
"Glad to hear it, I believe we have a meeting planned prior to the Atalanta’s arrival -come by my office on deck seven and we'll go through the mission briefing with the rest of the new personnel."
"Really looking forward to it."
Warren smiled, he saw a little of himself in Bobby; eager, wanting to please, reminded him of what he was like on his first posting. "Well, we must be getting on ensign, lots to do."
As the two officers disappeared into the turbolift behind him, Bobby took a moment to take one last look at the command; he knew he probably wouldn't be up here much, that he’d be aboard the Atalanta pretty much full time. He noticed the 'captain's chair' at the centre of the command centre and made his way over to it. The other officers were too busy working that they didn't notice Bobby standing there. He ran his hand over the back of the headrest and, as he did a voice spoke, sending shivers down his spine. "Give it time, Young, one day you'll be sat there."
Bobby felt a hand on his shoulder, he immediately spun round to see those yellow eyes staring back at him. "We still need to complete our tour."
Doval looked at Harding with what could only be described as 'come to bed eyes,' -he gestured towards the turbolift, his face softened and guided Bobby towards it.
Whatever hold Sen had on Bobby was palpable, it was electric and it made the young ensign loose all of his common sense -he knew full well that he shouldn’t get into the turbolift with Doval, but there was something so intriguing about him that made him want to see how it played out. Was it his Risan urges, or Sen’s Akkadian bio-chemistry pulling him towards Doval, or was it something darker? Whatever it was, it was just sex. Plain and simple sex and attraction. Chemistry. And there was a chemistry between them. He smiled and followed him, before looking over his shoulder at the command centre one last time…

*_*_*_*

The Atalanta slowed to impulse as she entered the Brilnari-Star System.
Commander Ayesha Gadde, commanding officer of the starship Atalanta -part of the Ithaca Task Force, made her way out of the turbolift and on to the bridge the Prometheus-Class starship.
Gadde had been in command of the Atalanta since returning to Starfleet, she was a fierce tactician a decorated officer and despite her troubled past and her difficult working relationship with Fleet Captain Pierce, she was one of his most trusted officers.
Ayesha and Pierce would often disagree on how things should be done, how missions should be planned and how the fleet should respond to potential threats, but despite their often volatile relationship, Gadde and Pierce were able to overcome their differences. Gadde was vocal, not afraid to express her opinion and would often punch her way through an argument to ensure that she got what she wanted.

Gadde was essentially a tidal force of nature.

Walking out on to her bridge, the commander addressed her crew. She was tired, they all were, following their mission to Madani Sari to collect rare artefacts to be stowed at the starbase in case the war was to go south for the Federation. The commander had news concerning the war. The bridge crew paused, looked up from their screens and watched their commanding officer as she delivered the solemn news that The Dominion had launched a surprise invasion of Betazed from the Kalandra sector, capturing the planet in less than ten hours. With control of this key Federation member world, the Dominion had scored a decisive strategic success; it was now in a position to launch offensives against Vulcan, Andor, Tellar, and Alpha Centauri.
“Starfleet have ordered the partial break up of the Ithaca Task Force and we are ordered to take the Atalanta to the front.”
As Gadde made her way down towards her command chair at the centre of the bridge, Ayesha looked at her crew, many of whom were young, many of whom looked as though she had just signed their death certificates. Taking her seat, her half-Vulcan, half human executive officer and confidant, Lieutenant Commander Suvan Trent gave her a reassuring nod and mouthed the words, ‘It will be okay…’

*_*_*_*

Fleet Captain Jonathan Pierce had also just learned the news of the Dominion’s capture of Betazed and found himself touring the starbase to contemplate his thoughts as he made his way around the base for an early morning stroll, finding himself on the flight deck.
Pierce watched silently as Lieutenant Commander Sam Hood barked like an academy drill sergeant at his latest set of recruits into the Tactical Flight Programme -Hood was putting his new tactical flight officers through their paces. It was 05:00 hours and they were tired, having only moments ago been called from their ‘barracks’ [as Hood liked to call them,] and ordered them to report to the flight deck after only three and a half hours of rack time.
“You’re here because your are the best of what Starfleet has to offer, but as I look around, all I see are tired faces, lousy postures and scuffed boots. Your all a disgrace to that uniform.”
Pierce smiled a thin wry smile, Hood’s words harkened back to his time at the academy. He remembered on more than one occasion being spoken to like that. Yet Commander Hood wasn’t addressing a group of raw cadets, he was talking to some of Starfleet’s best and brightest pilots. Pierce knew that Hood needed to be hard on them, that if the Federation were to fall, life would not be easy and the men and women down on the flight deck would quite likely be the last line of defence…

As Pierce slipped out of the flight deck unnoticed, Lieutenant Commander Hood continued his drill. Ordering his men and women to report to their Federation attack ships for a training mission. Immediately responding to Hood’s orders, the officers scattered and made their way to their vessels. As they did, the doors to the flight deck opened, revealing a face Sam had not seen before.
“Lost lieutenant?” -Hood asked, as he made his way over to the entrance to the flight deck, greeting the unexpected visitor with the same tone he had just addressed his team.
“No sir, I am right where I am meant to be, I am Lieutenant Eva Tsu, your new tactical flight officer.” -she smiled, passing Hood a PADD containing her transfer orders.
Sam took a moment to read the information contained on the PADD and then looked her up and down before returning his attention to the PADD. “I have all the flight officers I need. More over, I don’t ever recall being notified of your transfer…” Hood paused and then looked up from the PADD in somewhat surprise, “… from the Enterprise?”
“Indeed, Captain Picard personally recommended me for the vacant position within your team…sorry, I mean programme.”
“It’s a team.” He started, somewhat proudly, his slightly larger ears bobbing up and down as he spoke, which amused Eva.
“Well, I don’t know how they do it on the Enterprise, Tsu…” he continued, “…but here, we report for duty on time and correctly dressed. You’re late lieutenant.” Hood remarked, making reference to the red shirt she wore underneath her tunic -flight officers wore white. Turning on his heel and making his way towards his fighter craft he spoke, “You can take that one, I assume you know how to fly a Mark III?”
“Indeed, sir.”
“Then get prepped, we’re leaving in five minutes.”
“For where sir?”
“Training mission; target practice in the Wild Lands.” he responded succinctly.
“The where?”
“Just man your ship Tsu…” Hood responded, his stern tone unrelenting as he pointed towards a vacant Federation fighter, “…and when we get out there, stay close to me.”
“Aye sir.”

*_*_*_*

Ayesha Gadde made her way into the captain’s ready room aboard Starbase 185. As she sauntered in late to attend the meeting, she apologised for her tardiness, explaining that Lieutenant Commander Costello’s repairs to the docking assembly had caused delays in the Atalanta docking.
Pierce shook his head as Ayesha sat down alongside his first officer Commander Warren. “If you’d kept to your mission brief, AG, then you and the Atalanta would have returned on time.”
“But…”
Pierce raised his hand, “I don’t want to hear it.” he spoke, taking a seat behind his desk and indicating to his first officer, Commander Thomas Warren to continue. “Tell her what you told me.”
Holding a PADD, the seasoned and bearded Thomas Warren shifted forward in his chair and began to explain to Ayesha what he had already explained to the captain. “I got off the comm with Starfleet Tactical this morning, they have detected a small fleet of vessels heading our way…” he paused. Thomas had always liked Gadde, he respected her and her honesty, despite her past, despite how she practically disagreed with practically everything he and the captain had to say. He knew what he was about to say was going to hit her hard, but he didn’t sugarcoat it. “And when I say heading our way, I mean that they’re nearing Tyco-Echelon, which as you know commander is only twelve light years from our location.”
Gadde’s face softened. Her beautiful brown eyes appearing to grow larger as the commander delivered the news.
Tyco-Echelon IV was her home. Her parents home. The system was relatively unremarkable, out of the way…safe. Home to several dilithium mining facilities, a small but run-down Starfleet outpost and a several pre-warp civilisations on the inner most worlds. Gadde couldn’t understand as to why this backwater would have peaked the Dominion’s interest -assuming it was the Dominion that were headed there.
“What are we going to do about it?” Ayesha asked softly.
“Sadly, nothing commander.” -Pierce started, his three words instantly getting Ayesha’s back up. “We’re under orders to dispatch the Atalanta and Odysseus to the front lines. The rest of the fleet has been ordered to remain here, at Starbase 185.”
“You’re kidding…” she shot up from her seat and made her way over to the viewport and stared out into the direction of Tyco-Echelon. “And what are you going to do with the other sixteen ships that operate out of this godforsaken place?”
“They’re all on patrol, Ayesha. They’re needed here.”
Gadde turned from the window and looked at Pierce and Warren. Her eyes were wide, full of anger and concern for her parents.
Pierce and Warren could practically hear the cogs turning metaphorically in her head as she tried to work out what to do next as her eyes darted around the room. With her arms crossed, she postulated theories about what to do next. “Let me take the Atalanta to Tyco.” -she spoke, breaking the silence. “…it’s on the way anyway. I could do a quick pass through the system and check it out.”
“What if they’re a fleet of Dominion ships, AG? Fifteen warships?” -Warren remarked, “I don’t like them odds.”
“Then come with me, bring the Odysseus?”
Warren looked at Pierce, -she had a point, two ships would be better than one. “With the Atalanta’s MVAM, we’d be a formidable presence.” Warren expressed, referring to the Multi-Vector Assault Mode —a feature developed by Starfleet for it’s Prometheus-class starships. By using advanced compartmentalisation and automation systems, a ship capable of multi vector assault mode, like the Atalanta could split itself into three separate warp-capable vessels, becoming an entire squadron operating semi-independently and in concert.
“The answer’s no.” Pierce replied, his tone authoritative. “I appreciate your eagerness to go check on your family Ayesha, but I can’t put the lives of two ships at risk to check on your folks.”
“It’s not just my family though is it captain? It’s the lives of every man, woman and child on the Tyco Colony, the dilithium minors and the populations of the inner worlds. If the Dominion attack, they all will be at risk.”
“That’s the problem.” -Thomas chimed in. “They’re not considered high risk.”
“Don’t you start.” -Captain Pierce shot Warren a scornful look.
“But she’s got a point, Jon. We’re the nearest Federation outpost to Tyco-Echelon, we have a duty to help those people.”
“The Atalanta and Odysseus are needed on the front lines. Have you both forgotten that Betazed fell only a matter of days ago. Trust me, I intend to get them there in one piece.”
Gadde shook her head. She could feel her blood boiling in her veins and pointed out of the window. “There’s sixteen ships parked out there… send them to the front line.”
“AG, please.”
“They’re needed at Tyco-Echelon...” she retaliated.
Annoyed, Pierce rose from his desk. “You’re dismissed commander. Report to the Atalanta, prepare for departure, you will join Task Force Nineteen in the Balkar-Sector.”
As Gadde stormed out of the captain’s office towards the operations centre, without saying another word, Commander Warren rose from his chair and folded his arms before stroking his beard.
Pierce could see that Thomas was not comfortable with this. Hell, they both were uncomfortable with this. The whole galaxy was uncomfortable with this. This war, this goddamned war had already taken so much from everyone. Wearing a Starfleet uniform was not as it once was. Before the war, the uniform was one worn with pride, it was a symbol of exploration, of hope, now it came with far less admirable qualities. It was a uniform placed on the backs of so many young men and women who would not live long enough to earn their stripes. A uniform worn by those who once had their whole lives mapped out for them, destined to spend their days exploring the great wonders of the galaxy. A uniform now worn by tired and wounded soldiers, who longed for this war to end.
“She’d be commanding that ship without you watching over her by now, if it wasn’t for this war Jon.” -Thomas spoke. “You know full well that Ayesha will take Atalanta to Tyco and will probably die out there if they detect her.”
“Then what do I do, Thom? Defy orders and have her go off on a wild goose chase that will probably get her and her crew killed. Loose another ship to the Dominion and for what, for nothing?” -Pierce sat back down and pondered the situation or a moment.
“Ayesha has come a long way in the time she’s been here. She’s earned the respect of her peers, contributed to making The Ark work. . . we owe her one.” Warren remarked with a sincere look on his face. “She reminds me of a young lieutenant commander I once knew…” Warren continued.
“Don’t Thom. I’m not ready for a trip down memory lane, not now, not today commander, you know me far too well.”
“Twenty three years, Jon, twenty three years.”
“You already know what I’m going to do, don’t you?” Pierce watched as Warren made his way out of his office. Warren’s reply was written all over his back. The doors slid shut as his first officer made his way into the command centre beyond, leaving him to ponder over what he was going to do with Gadde. He had to let her go. He knew full well that if it were him, that would want to do the same, to do whatever it takes to safeguard the lives of his family. But his family were dead now, he was the only one left. He knew that if he got a chance to do it all again, to have made it to them on time, to have saved them, he would have done. And it was in that moment, that the captain decided that he would defy orders and allow Ayesha take the Atalanta out to Tyco-Echelon, to save her parents homeworld from possible invasion.
But it wasn’t just the threat to Gadde’s home planet that bothered him. It was about what else was in the Tyco-Echelon System that troubled him the most…If those ships were Dominion warships and they were to truly discover the secrets of the Tyco-Echelon system, it might just cost the Federation the war…and he was damned sure that he wasn’t going to let that happen…

*_*_*_*

Hood’s squadron of Federation attack fighters were nearing the Wild Lands, a region of space home to several hundred subspace vacuoles -a region he considered perfect for putting new recruits through their paces.
Having divided the eight ships in to two groups of four, Lieutenant Hood ordered Eva Tsu to take command of Blue Flight, whilst he would command Red Flight. Using the simulated weapons computers aboard the attack fighters, Hood planned to pit his group of four ships against Tsu’s -he wanted to see what she was made of.
Sam knew that Picard would only recommend the best. He knew that Tsu would be good, but he hoped for her unfamiliarity of the area would put her on the back foot and allow him to prevail.
Fiercely competitive and a talented pilot, Sam Hood was he best of the best and he knew it. He resented his posting to Starbase 185, he would have much sooner been out there on the front lines, taking the fight to the Dominion. Instead, Hood was stationed at 185, protecting a starbase from smugglers, traders and the dregs of the Beta-Quadrant that wanted to take a piece of the Federation Ark that was Starbase 185 for themselves. He hated it here. But despite him despising his current assignment, Hood had decided to do his duty, to get on with the task at hand and he excelled at it. The men and women that he was directly responsible for admired him, worshiped the ground he walked on. They all looked up to him and he loved that. Whilst he may work them hard, he knew how to reward them -today was no exception. Once the flight testing and battle games were completed, he intended to reward his flight officers with some much needed downtime and a trip to the starbase’s holodeck facility for a night of celebration…

Eva Tsu felt at home in the cockpit of her Federation attack fighter, despite the unusual arrangement of the controls that had been reconfigured for the previous pilot. As she surveyed the controls, Eva noticed a small faded photograph of a Bajoran female wearing her tactical flight suit, holding a young child -presumably her daughter.
Unclipping the photograph, Eva took a closer look. She could see Hood in the background alongside other members of his tactical flight group. Everyone looked happy in the photograph, taken in the mess hall of the starbase. Turning the photograph over, Eva noticed that there was some writing on the back, the words, ‘We love you Sam…always’ inscribed.
It didn’t take long for Eva to put one and two together. This was clearly Sam Hood’s late partner’s ship, but Eva couldn’t quite understand why he’d assigned her this particular fighter. Unless it was to make her feel uncomfortable. Which she now did.
Placing the photograph back where she found it, Eva ran a quick diagnostic on the computerised weapons systems, scanned the area and prepared to address Blue Flight.
Within seconds, the diagnostic and sensor scan was complete, ‘Damn…that was fast!’ -she thought, impressed at the speed of the fighter craft’s systems.
Spotting a cluster of subspace vacuoles up ahead, Eva signalled her wingmen, “Tsu to all hands, set course eight one eight, by two one five, mark four one nine. Ready virtual weapons and prepare to follow me around the nearest vacuole.”
“Aye sir … Yes M’am … Acknowledged lieutenant…” -the three members of her team responded. They were ready, eager to begin. The trip to the Wild Lands was renowned for being unremarkable, but they were all keen to get started, to light up the sky…

But instead of Hood’s fleet of four fighters pursuing her and Blue Flight into the cluster of vacuoles as intended, Eva and her fellow fighter pilots were suddenly unable to locate Hood and Red Flight on sensors. They had completely vanished…without a trace…

*_*_*_*

In her quarters aboard the starbase, Ayesha was midway through packing her belongings to have beamed aboard the Atalanta.
She was angry, damned angry at Pierce -all she wanted to do was get as far away from him, The Ark and go to the Tyco-Echelon colony to her parents, to make sure that they were safe.
The Dominion War had already cost her the life of her brother -the chief tactical officer of the starship Sitak and she was damned sure that she wasn’t going to loose her parents. Despite the distance, Ayesha and her parents were close, speaking daily via subspace during her time stationed on Starbase 185.
But they had not been in touch for several days. In her last conversation with her mother, she learned that an ion storm was headed their way. Gadde wished she had told her mother that she loved her, but instead they argued over their safety and wanting her parents to join her on 185 where she could keep an eye on them, protect them.
As she threw several personal items into one of the packing crates, the door chimed, indicating that she had a visitor. Ayesha was in no mood for guests.
“Come.” she barked, her back to the door.
“I just wanted to let you know our new helmsman has arrived and is settling in aboard the…” Lieutenant Commander Suvan Trent’s voice trailed off as the half human, half Vulcan made his way into the room and noticed that Ayesha had packed a considerable amount of her possessions.
“How long are you planning on leaving for, commander?” -Ayesha’s first officer and acting chief tactical officer asked before sitting down behind her desk.
“Considering we’re headed to the front lines, Suvan, I’m guessing this will be a pretty permanent affair.”
“Have you not heard?” -he asked, looking at several photographs that were scattered on the desktop -one of which depicted Ayesha with her parents and late brother. “We’ve been ordered to the Tyco-Echelon System.”
Gadde stopped and turned around to face her first officer. “Say what, commander?”
Suvan smiled -something, that despite how long Gadde had served with Trent, she was never comfortable with. Vulcan’s did not smile. “Captain Pierce has issued us new orders, to take the Atalanta to Tyco-Echelon IV and to evacuate the Federation colonists that are located on the surface.”
“That son of a bitch.” -Gadde remarked, “He didn’t even have the gaul to tell me himself.”
“The captain, and I’m assuming you’re talking about the captain explained that he was unable to reach you, that you had disabled comms to your quarters.” -it was a fair point. Gadde had disabled her comms to allow her to pack in peace -that and she was too pissed to talk to anyone.
“Our departure time remains unchanged, we will leave at 14:00, this afternoon.” -Suvan explained, “However, there has been a slight amendment.”
“Oh?” -Ayesha looked up from the framed picture of her brother that she held in her hand.”
“Commander Warren will be in command of the Atalanta.”
Ayesha closed her eyes. She wasn’t going to let Suvan see her completely loose it in front of him. “Understood.”
It didn’t take much for Suvan to realise that Ayesha had been further annoyed by the captain and for that reason, he rose from behind her desk and politely excused himself. As the doors to Ayesha’s quarters closed, all of the anger and animosity towards Pierce reached a near rage from within. She threw the picture frame across the room and watched it shatter into a million pieces after hitting the wall.
Ayesha Gadde was angry. Damned angry…and she wanted answers. Slamming the crate she had been packing shut, the commander grabbed her uniform jacket and stormed out of her quarters…outward to the captain’s office…she wanted answers…

*_*_*_*

Eva had ran several sensors scans, none of which determined the location of Hood and the three other Federation attack fighters. Red Flight was nowhere to be seen. Tsu was concerned, the subspace vacuoles were putting out an inordinate amount of energy readings making it impossible to find them. Was it possible that Red Flight were still out there? That this was Hood’s plan all along, to make it look like his ships had disappeared off sensors? Who knew. But Eva was worried.
Tapping her combadge, she signalled Sojen, one of the junior tactical flight officers assigned to her command, call sign: Majestic. “Majestic, are your sensors functioning correctly?” -she asked.
Sojen responded almost instantly, “Affirmative, all sensors are operating within normal parameters.” he spoke in a typically cool Vulcan fashion -It was like she was talking to an android. It reminded her of the Enterprise’s operations officer. She smiled to herself for a second. “And this is definitely not some kind of game, designed to scare new recruits.”
“I wouldn’t know m’am, the commander initiated me into the group by very different means.”
“I shudder to think what you mean by that ensign … can you run another scan of the area.”

As Eva continued to try and locate Red Flight by way of running increasingly complicated sensor scans, her fighter craft started to shudder heavily, the vacuoles were becoming somewhat unstable. It was clear that they couldn’t remain here much longer.
Eva didn’t like this one bit. Whether this was Hood’s doing or not, she wasn’t prepared to wait around for whatever caused Red Flight to disappear to take her and the others.
Tsu tapped the controls and attempted to open a distress call to the starbase, but the moment she accessed the comms array, the fighter craft’s main computer started to fail. The display in front of her started to flicker. Power was failing. Was this what had happened to Hood’s team?
With no response from the comms array, Eva attempted to bring the impulse engines online, but like the comms, the engines were down. Her fighter was now dead in space. She could no longer reach Sojen or the others.
Reaching down the side of the cockpit chair, she pulled up a small lever, prompting an automated response from the ship’s failing computer.
“AUTOMATED DISTRESS BEACON LAUNCHED.” -the fight craft’s computer sounded before it shut down for good.
Tsu looked out of the window and watched the distress beacon disappear into the void. As she watched the small automated beacon grow smaller, she noticed that Sojen’s fighter craft was drifting dangerously close to one of the vacuoles. But there was no way she could help him. There was nothing she could do from inside her fighter craft.
She looked around the cockpit compartment for something, anything to use to help her and the rest of her team get out of this predicament.
Her eyes darted around the small confined space until they landed on the EVA draws above her head.
She wondered to herself if she was stupid enough. Stupid enough to pull on an environmental suit, evacuate the craft and use the thruster pack to make her way over to Sojen’s fighter and push his vessel clear of the vacuole.
Deciding that this wasn’t stupidity, that it was an act of ingenuity and quick thinking, Eva reached up to the environmental suit draw and pulled it open.
The helmet from the suit suddenly fell into her lap, quickly followed by the suit itself and the anti-gravity boots. Climbing out of the cockpit chair, Tsu pulled on the suit and carried out a quick succession of checks to make sure the environmental suit was space worthy.
With no way of beaming off the fighter, Tsu knew that the suit’s thruster pack was her only option. Thankfully, Federation attack fighters were built for two occupants. She knew that she’d be safe inside Sojen’s fighter, but what troubled her was how she was going to achieve this feat of ‘ingenuity.’
Eva didn’t know that Sojen was part Betazoid and as far as she was concerned, Sojen would have no way of knowing that she was coming, no way of communicating with her util it was too late, until Tsu would be right on top of him. Regardless, Eva knew that there were no other option available. It would take too long for the distress beacon to reach the starbase, she really was on her own and Sojen’s life depended on her -it was like history was repeating itself.
Putting the memories of the past to the back of her mind, Eva threw on the helmet and completed final checks. The wrist mounted display indicated that the environmental suit was safe to use and air tight, she was ready to exit the fighter via the escape hatch and proceed to standing on the outer hull, ready to push off in the direction of Sojen.
Tsu stood on the outer hull for several seconds before putting her plan into motion, taking in the incredible view that was afforded to her. The swirling mass of subspace vacuoles made her feel somewhat queasy -either that or it was the effects of being in the weightless environment of space. She feel sick to her stomach and claustrophobic inside the suit.
“Computer, activate thruster pack and initiate a five second countdown.” she spoke, swallowing down her nerves hard as she got into position to push off from the fighter craft.
“E.V.A. THRUSTER PACK ONLINE … FIVE SECOND ACTIVATION SEQUENCE INITIATED … FIVE … FOUR … THREE … TWO … ONE … THRUSTER PACK FIRING.” the computer’s automated voice sounded in the environmental suit’s helmet.

Eva was suddenly propelled forward towards Sojen’s fighter craft. It took her a few seconds to stabilise herself and used the environmental suit’s internal micro computer to calculate her vector. Flying through the vacuum of space at what felt like an incredible velocity she felt her nausea subside as it was replaced by adrenaline firing through her veins.
“WARNING, IMPACT ALERT!” -the computer warned as she neared Sojen’s fighter.
By now, she could see Sojen inside his craft, calling out to her, telling her to stop. But Eva had no choice, she had committed to this cause of action and was only seconds away from making contact with his craft.
“Computer, forward thrusters, slow me down!” -she cried, realising that she was travelling too fast, but there was no response. Something had caused the micro-computer to fail -perhaps it was the same phenomenon that was affecting the fighters, she thought.
With only seconds to spare before she’d reach her final destination, Eva put her hands out in front of her and braced to make contact with Sojen’s fighter. Thankfully the thruster pack disengaged in time, having expended all of its fuel -Eva hoped that there would still be enough inertia to push the fighter out of the way of the vacuole.
Eva hit the Sojen’ fighter craft hard, but pushing it out of danger. She felt her arms break upon impact and screamed out in agony as she clung onto the now spiralling vessel.
Tsu could see Sojen calling out to her again. Signalling to her that he was putting on his environmental suit and was coming to get her. But she was in so much pain and without her environmental suit’s micro computer working, she was unable to initiate a compression field around her arms to prevent any further damage. Tsu started to drift in and out of consciousness, seeing only flashes of what was about to come…

Sojen, climbed out of the spiralling fighter craft, clinging to the hatch as it banked, twisted and turned in space away from the vacuole. His anti-gravity boots were unresponsive -which was his own fault as he failed to check his suit in his haste to rescue Tsu.
After two terrifying minutes, Sojen’s boots finally kicked in, allowing him to more effectively reach Tsu, who’s hands were still clinging on to the wing of his fighter craft for dear life.
By now, Tsu was completely unconscious. Sojen struggled to reach her for a moment, but managed to use his own thruster pack to give himself a boost.
Pulling her inside the fighter craft, Sojen manually secured the cabin and pressurised the hatch above him.
Lying Tsu down on the cockpit floor, Sojen pulled out a tricorder from one of the emergency storage bins and quickly assessed her condition. Noting her broken arms and a fractured pelvis, Sojen was reluctant to remove her helmet. Opening another storage bin, he removed an emergency med-kit and pulled out a hypo filled with cordrazine before inserting it into a port into her environmental suit.
Sojen didn’t have a clue if that would work, if injecting the pain relief drug directly into the suit would help, but he had no choice.
Suddenly, out of the main viewport, Sojen noticed another one of Blue Flight’s fighters nearby. It was Ensign Jones, call sign: Bakerman.
Like his and Tsu’s fighter, approaching vessel was adrift. Sojen noticed that Bakerman’s starboard wing was heavily damaged. Quickly getting to his feet and making his way to the front of the cockpit, Sojen boosted the range of the medical tricorder -by tying it into his combadge and attempted to scan the approaching fighter’s pilot.
Seconds later, a monotone, flatline sound could be heard coming from Sojen’ tricorder, quashing Sojen’s hopes for Jones’ survival hard. What little colour he had in his face palled and he wondered whether they would ever get out of this.
Using all available evidence open to him, he concluded that Bakerman had struck one of the vacuoles and that the impact must have killed him. With hope fading, one of his teammates dead, another unaccounted for and Tsu gravely injured, Sojen had no choice but to wait for rescue, or for the air to run out…

*_*_*_*

Disengaging from the docking port, The Atalanta departed Starbase 185 and made its way clear of The Ark. The Prometheus-Class starship under the command of Commander Thomas Warren powered up for warp and disappeared into the void with a flash of light.

Commander Warren was stood alongside the Atalanta’s chief science officer, a joined Trill named Lieutenant Jerzan Gray. The pair were mid-discussion, concerning readings the lieutenant had detected emanating from the Wild Lands -which were less than two parsecs away. The commander shook his head, he knew that Hood had only this morning took his squadron out into the Wild Lands. He was concerned that they were in trouble.
The tall, dashing, dark haired lieutenant remarked that the readings indicate that the vacuoles in the region are in a state of flux, that the fighter team may indeed be in trouble.
Thomas was reluctant to alter course, he didn’t want to draw too much attention to the Atalanta operating near the vacuoles however, he knew that if the tactical flight squadron were in trouble, they had no choice but to alter course and investigate -Warren new that this wouldn’t go down well with Pierce. They had to reach Tyco-Echelon before the Dominion arrived.
“What about separating the tertiary hull and mounting a rescue?” -asked Jerzan
“We need all three sections of the Atalanta for our mission to Tyco, lieutenant, we can’t afford to break up the ship and go our separate ways.” -Warren aired as Gadde arrived on the bridge.
“Ah, commander, good to see you.” -Warren expressed, “Join us, won’t you?”
Gadde nodded in Warren’s direction and made her way to the science station where he and Gray stood. “We’re picking up some strange readings from the Wild Lands.” Before Ayesha could even get a word out, Ensign Bobby Young looked up from his console, “Commander Warren, we’re detecting an automated distress buoy from the Wild Lands, -it’s the tactical flight squadron, they’re in trouble sir.”
That was it. They had no choice, as far as Warren was concerned they had to alter course.
Ayesha’s heart sunk as she heard the ensign break the news. But she wasn’t having any of it, they had a mission here, they had to get to Tyco before the Dominion fleet arrived. Pushing down her feelings of concern for Hood and his team, Ayesha turned to Suvan and spoke, “Commander Suvan, hail The Ark, have them dispatch a rescue ship to the Wild Lands.”
“Delay that!” Commander Warren barked, before Suvan even had a chance to acknowledge Gadde’s order. “Ensign Young, alter course to the Wild Lands and increase to maximum warp.” Warren spoke before looking at Gray, “Jerzan, relay all sensor data on the Wild Lands to the helm, give the ensign a hand with plotting a course through the vacuoles.”
“Aye sir.” the Trill replied.
“Engage when ready, ensign.” Warren authoritatively spoke before taking a seat at the centre of the bridge, reminding Ayesha of just who was in charge here.
Gadde stood silently with gritted teeth and clenched fists. She was in no mood for games, no mood for this power play. Yet she had no choice, she couldn’t be seen to be disobeying orders again. She had been there before, hell, that’s what cost her her commission before and she wasn’t about to loose it again, not now, not with her family’s lives in the balance and with that, she joined Suvan at tactical, who offered her a reassuring smile. Telling her once again, “It will be okay…”

To Be Continued…

Image Credits:
Starbase by Raul Mamoru
Spacescape by Starkiteckt Designs

Description
Star Trek: Ithaca
Episode One: “Welcome to the Ark”

Nine months ago…
The crew quarters aboard the USS Adirondack were modest, yet comfortable. They were certainly a marked improvement from Ayesha Gadde’s previous accommodations at the Starfleet Penal Colony on Raxnar Prime. In fact, any room with running water and a temperature that didn’t blister the skin would be considered luxurious in comparison to the cell she had called home for nearly four years. When her friend, Admiral Dawson, approached her two days earlier in her dungeon, she was a broken woman; a husk of her previous self. With more than a decade and a half left on her sentence, it was clear to Ayesha that she would die in incarceration long before she completed her term of imprisonment. Thus, her choice to rejoin Starfleet at Dawson’s request simple one.

As she peered out of the room’s viewport, Ayesha watched as Raxnar Prime slowly faded away into the distance. Ayesha fought back tears as she succumbed to realisation that she was freed from the hell to which she had been banished. The stars became streaks as the Adirondack went to warp. Ayesha caught her reflection in the viewport and hardly recognised the woman looking back. The authorities at Raxnar hadn’t allowed her time to bathe or freshen up. She stunk and she was covered in a thin layer of grim and ore dust from the mines. Her clothes were tattered shreds and he ached in every joint and muscle.

Ayesha managed to make her way to the bathroom through sheer force of will. The area illuminated as she approached the sink. It wasn’t light from Raxnar’s blue giant, but she found it harsh nonetheless. As her eyes adjusted, she really saw herself for the first time in years. Her hair was tangled and matted into what could only be described as dreadlocks and had grown to her shoulders. Her face and skin had become rough and weathered. Her eyes had become vacant and devoid of life. Raxnar had nearly stripped away all semblances of her humanity. Still, she managed to find a pair of sheers that had been left for her. She hacked away at the matted locks that hung from her head. Slowly and first, then with a haste that spoke to her desire to be anything but the woman in the mirror. She came to a point where she nearly removed all vestiges of her the dreadlocks before stopping and picked up a razor. Selecting the ‘number one’ setting on the razor, she began sweeping the small device over her head until she looked almost respectable. She nodded to herself in satisfaction with the finished product, but remained stoic as she looked down at the dreadlocks on the bathroom floor, which for years had served as a reminder of what brought her to Raxnar.

Though only a few steps away, the sonic shower seemed kilometres away as she shed her rags in pursuit of a cleaner future. The low hum flowed over and around her as it washed away years of muck and grime. Ayesha Gadde, the prisoner, circled the drain and disappeared into oblivion as Ayesha Gadde, the Starfleet Officer, emerged into the quarters.

Ayesha allowed herself a moment of solace. She walked over to the closet and found her uniform hanging handsomely. The pips sparkled and she would have allowed herself a smile if she wasn’t immediately reminded of her impending mission’s low probability of success. Still, she knew she’d make the most of her second chance. If there was a way to succeed, to make the Ark work, she would find it. Instead of her uniform, Ayesha reached for a pair of pyjamas and threw them on. They clung to her blistered flesh painfully.

The bed in the middle of the room called to her. Providing they didn’t run into the Dominion, the Starbase 185 was still several days away at the very least. She was exhausted and nothing left to give to the day. She collapsed onto the mattress and realised that it was so soft it hurt. She tossed and turned, but could not get comfortable. Finally, she got out of bed and fell to the floor. It reminded her of her cell’s floor and, as sickening as it was, she immediately felt comfortable.

As she drifted off to sleep, Ayesha contemplated her future. She wondered if he had traded one form of damnation for another. Either way, she was alive and she felt like herself for the first time in years. The future was full of unknowns, but she would make it her own…

*_*_*_*

The stares were expected. Growing up, Sojen learned to ignore the gawking and huddled whispers. His mother did her best to shelter him and raise him in the principles of Vulcan doctrine. It proved to be a losing battle.
As Vulcans expanded their range of exploration and participated in the formation of the Federation, half-breeds like him became more commonplace. Though still rare, a Vulcan would still likely encounter a half-breed at some point during their life.
His mother had been an aide to the Vulcan Ambassador to Betazed. While on a diplomatic mission, she found herself stranded on a Betazoid colony whilst in the throes of pon farr. She found a Betazoid politician sympathetic to her situation. Several months later, after a return to Vulcan, Sojen was born.

Now, as he roamed the corridors of the starship Airedale, destined for Starbase 185 and his first assignment since graduating Starfleet Academy only a month ago, he couldn't help but sense what the passing crew had felt about him. Confusion gripped most, while bemusement and attraction and contempt were a few other emotions he experienced. It was only recently that Sojen fully embraced his empathic abilities.
Before joining Starfleet, Sojen had attempted to make a life for himself on Betazed, but found acclimating to life there no simpler than on Vulcan. When it was discovered that Sojen was not only experiencing emotions wilfully, but also causing those around him to feel their own emotions by proxy, he was labeled a danger to Vulcan ideals and expelled from the Vulcan Science Academy. It didn't help that during the investigation into his influence on other Vulcans, that they found copies of the forbidden teachings of the dissident, Sybok.
Vulcan genes were typically very strong and Sojen had inherited many of the characteristics which readily identified one as Vulcan. His ears were elongated, but they lacked a distinctive point and his eyebrows, while raised, were not as steep as most Vulcans.
Further setting him apart from his Vulcan brethren, Sojan was adorned with a beard, one that he grew after joining a group of fellow V'tosh ka'tur; Vulcans without logic.

Sojen found his temporary quarters, the trip to 185 was only in its infancy and the Airedale still had several other stops to make before it would reach it’s final destination. He slinked and let the doors shut behind him before he broke down. He slid to the floor and pulled his knees close to his chest and began to sob. From the other side of his door he could sense the suspicions of the others.His sadness was replaced by rage and defiance. He shot up and clenched a fist. He'd been run out of Vulcan. He'd been ostracised on Betazed. He graduated the Academy through sheer will alone. He would not be chased off this ship. Better things were on the horizon, soon Starbase 185 would be his home and he’d very likely be there for some time…

*_*_*_*

Present Day…
Starbase 185 grew larger and ever so more impressive as the runabout grew nearer.
The Starbase was a relatively new, modified Rugula-Class starbase and was the hub of activity as various craft manoeuvred around her. Located deep within the Beta-Quadrant in the Brilnari-Star System, beyond the Typhon-Expanse and lightyears away from Deep Space Five, Starbase 185, under the command of Fleet Captain Jonathan Pierce was located in the Iota-Leonis Sector, an area of space that was un-affectionally known as ‘The Dark Side of the Romulan Empire.’ Four Starfleet starships were docked at the outer docking ports, a fair way away from the main body of the super-structure. Cargo carriers and work bees ferried supplies, equipment and crewmen from the starships to the various loading bays that were open to the vacuum of space, protected by forcefields, to prevent the teams working inside from succumbing to the void. Every now and again, when one of the pods would enter or exit the loading bays, the forcefields would flicker as they passed through.
Beyond the starbase and the docked vessels a fleet of Federation starships lay, their hulls bathed in a blue green hue from the nearby Hawkeye Nebula and on high alert, standing ready, waiting for the Dominion. They were so far away from the front lines, that their commanders knew that they may never have to engage their enemy, but nonetheless, they stood fast in case that day came, always waiting, always watching.
The runabout swung down low underneath the habitat pods, before sweeping up high to encircle the command centre -she was moving fast, giving off the impression that she was being chased by an unknown assailant. The runabout’s pilots clearly knew how to handle the craft as they manoeuvred the vessel packed with new arrivals, dignitaries and officials around the grand starbase that was affectionately known as ‘The Ark.’
Starbase 185 was humanity’s last outpost, their last chance at survival should the Dominion War bring an end to the Federation and Earth. Protected by a fleet of ships, the base was under constant supervision and her relatively unseasoned crew living in fear that one day they may be called upon, called upon to preserve the human race.

The rear door to the runabout parted shortly after it set down in the starbase’s main hangar bay. The lower half slowly descended and created the ramp on which the passengers could depart. The ramp had barely been established before a young crewman ran out of the runabout and fell to his hands and knees and proceeded to vomit profusely.
"Ha!" a voice called from within the runabout. The craft's pilot, Lieutenant Commander Sam Hood, emerged at the rear hatch with pure elation on his face. He clapped his hand on the shoulder of his co-pilot. "I told you I'd get one of them to throw up. You owe me five strips of latinum!"
"Not so fast, Sam," Chief Connor Hudson countered, “…the bet was that it would happen while aboard the runabout. It's you who owes me." Hudson was smug in his apparent reversal of fortune.
Sam gestured to the quivering crewman still retching as the other passengers departed and giving him a wide berth. "He's on the ramp! He's not officially on board the starbase until he has both feet on the deck plating. Therefore, he's still on my ship and I win the wager."

Hudson knew the regulation to which Sam was referring and knew he'd lost this bet, even if on a sliver of a technicality. "I'll stop by your quarters later," Connor said in a conciliatory tone.
Hood’s laughter filled the docking bay and Hudson departed with his tail between his legs. Sam walked over to the crewman who had begun to collect himself, all the while avoiding his mess. "Sorry, friend," he said as tousled his victim's hair. "Look on the bright side; you just made me a little richer."
The crewman looked up at Sam, still looking a little green. "That was the worst flight I've ever been on," he said fighting back the urge to expel another wave of his insides. "I can't believe they let you fly shuttles."
Another roil of deep laughter bellowed from Sam. He held his arm out to display several of the Federation attack fighters that were parked opposite the runabout. "Oh? Then you'll be in real disbelief when you hear that I’m in command of that fleet of fighters parked over there.”
“Wait, what? You’re the tactical flight squadron leader?”
“I sure am. Commander Sam Hood, pleasure…” he didn’t get a chance to finish his introduction, the crewman lost his battle of wills with his own space sickness and began to vomit again. Sam sidestepped the projected bile and sauntered through the hangar while whistling a vaguely familiar tone.

Sam Hood; lieutenant commander, adventurer, gambler and best pilot to ever come out of New Berlin. At least, in his opinion anyways.

*_*_*_*

Most of the crew had arrived, the hub of activity that encircled the starbase station had slowed somewhat -which, for Ensign Bobby Young made for a somewhat lacklustre arrival. There was no pomp or ceremony, no fanfare, no meet and greet with the senior staff -not that he was expecting any of that of course, but a simple, ‘hello, welcome aboard’ would have been nice.
Stepping out of the Airedale’s airlock and onto the starbase, the ensign took a second to breathe all of this in. He only graduated from the Starfleet Academy a year a go and had spent the last eleven months aboard the Airedale, but this was different, this was his first starbase, his first assignment aboard a deep space starbase.
“Hello,” -a polite voice spoke, “You must be Robert?” -the man spoke.
Bobby was immediately transfixed, the officer had the most unusual orangey yellow eyes. “Erm, sorry, what?”
“Ensign Young?” -the non-commissioned officer asked.
“Yes, yes…” -snapping out of the momentary trance, “Yes, reporting for duty -it’s my first Starbase.” -he cutely smiled.
The Akkadian officer, somewhat older than Young and wearing gold matched the eager young ensign’s smile, “Well, hello, I’m Chief Sen Doval, tactical officer. I’ve been asked to show you around before the Atalanta pulls in to dock.”
“Really?” -Bobby was a little surprised, “you really don’t have too, I have been studying the schematics and know my way around.”
“No no, I insist.” -Doval replied, trying to calm the young man, “truth is, the Atalanta is running late, so Commander Gadde asked me me to distract you for a little while.”
“Well, consider me distracted.” -Young wryly replied…

Fifteen minutes later, the officers arrived at sickbay; the door’s swished open to reveal Doctor Grace Shaw, a recent edition to 185’s crew frantically getting everything ready to begin her work with the Atalanta’s chief science officer. Grace noticed the pair stood in the doorway, “Are you here to fix the bio-replicators? Bloody thing’s been down for the best part of an hour?”
Doval shook his head, “No m’am, I’m giving Mr. Young here at tour of the starbase” the chief replied.”
Bobby’s eagerness to be here had been somewhat quelled, Sen had been thoroughly meticulous in explaining how everything worked on the starbase. Bobby had been praying for the Atalanta’s arrival for the past ten minutes, he wanted to report to his new assignment, to meet Commander Gadde. This was starting to feel a little staged, as though the crew were about to play a trick on him. “Well, I can take a look at it for you, doctor.”
Bobby put down his holdall on one of the empty bio-beds and asked the doctor where the bio-replicator was.
“It’s just through here.” -Shaw guided him through the hustle and bustle of the sickbay, past a team of engineers busily attempting to get the bay’s plasma relays back online and into her office. “Here it is…” -she pointed to the replicator, “…offline, just like everything else in here.”
Bobby smiled, “Not quite what you were expecting m’am?” -he asked, picking up a tricorder.
“First thing’s first…crewman?” she paused, noticing the ensign wasn’t wearing any pips on his collar, “…I’m not a m’am, I’m a doctor…Doctor Grace Shaw.”
“Oh, I’m sorry doctor…” -he replied as his fingers worked the tricorder. “…and it’s Ensign Bobby Young, actually.”
“You appear to be improperly dressed ensign,” she pointed at the two pips on her collar, indicating she held the rank of lieutenant.
“First proper posting, I’m the Atalanta’s new conn officer…” he sighed, “…if she ever gets here.” Bobby flicked several controls on the tricorder causing it’s usual hum to change to that of a repetitive high frequency chirp, “damn!”
“Problem? -Grace asked.
“The iodine relay in this tricorder is out of alignment.”
“Great, now the bloody tricorders are at it.”
Bobby, placing the tricorder on Grace’s desk, started to look around for Doval. “Where did the chief go?” -he asked, walking out of her office, looking around the sickbay.
Grace looked perplexed, she had seen Bobby walk in with the chief but had just assumed that he’d took a seat in the medical wing. “He might be through on the ward.” Bobby nodded, he smiled at Grace, “I’ll go see, it was nice to meet you, Doctor Shaw.”
“And you, Ensign Young.”
“Call me Bobby.”
Grace nodded and smiled in acknowledgment, it was clear she was busy and she promptly made her way back towards her office. “Will do!”
Doctor Shaw suddenly remembered about the replicator, "Bobby, what about the..." -but before she'd even had a chance to turn around, the ensign was gone...

Bobby crossed the corridor and went into the medical wing adjacent to the main sickbay, two large sets of quarters that had been converted into what could only be described as a ‘hospital ward.’ The monitors were powered down, only the auxiliary lighting was on, Bobby shook his head, there clearly wasn’t anyone in here so he turned on his heel and made his way back towards the doors. As he did, Bobby could have sworn he heard breathing. The dark freaking him out a little and playing tricks with his mind.
Harding immediately called for the lights. "Computer li..."
"Shhh, don't." -a familiar voice spoke. "I saw the way you looked at me.”
Then, out of the darkness a pair of yellow eyes emerged.
Slightly taken a back, Bobby jumped a little and backed up to the wall. "You're half Risan aren't you?" -the voice spoke.
Young knew it was Doval. He could feel him close by and felt himself shaking slightly.
"Yes, chief." -he nervously replied.
Harding suddenly felt a pair of hands on his chest, "Your people's reputation, is it justified?" -Doval asked, his eyes burning into Bobby’s very soul.
"I really should be going." -Bobby replied, trying to make excuses despite his urge to see what would happen if he remained here.
"I'll be waiting." -with that, the pair of yellow eyes disappeared back into the darkness…

Bobby quickly rushed out of the medical wing and back out into the corridor. He made it half way across the section, forgetting about his bag in sickbay, he made his way towards the turbolift.
Stepping inside, Bobby called for deck one and as the lift made its way up the shaft the ensign pondered what this mission was going to have install for him. Dubious about the chief’s advances, he remembered that Doval was Akkadian. He’d seen this before on Risa and at The Academy on Earth. It had something to do with Risan pheromones and the way they interfered with receptors in Akkadian brains. Bobby thanked his lucky stars that he was going to be assigned to the Atalanta and that Doval would be aboard the starbase. This certainly wasn’t the welcome he hoped for, but thankfully Bobby understood why Doval had acted the way he had. He couldn’t help it. Doval couldn’t help it. For anyone else in that situation, it would have been frightening, terrifying. An officer forcing themselves on another like that would have been grounds for report, even possible incarceration or dismissal.
Bobby shook off the encounter and straightened his uniform, making a mental note to notify Commander Gadde about what had happened between him and Doval, just in time for the turbolift's doors to open, to arrive at the command centre.
He took a deep breath and made his way out into the command centre. He waited for a second, again trying to forget about what happened a moment ago on the ward. Young was clearly nervous about meeting the rest of the crew, especially after what had just happened.
He shook his head and told himself to get it together -he'd had his fair share of sexual encounters in the past and whilst this was somewhat different, he knew that what happened below decks should remain there, right now he was ‘Ensign Robert Young,' the professional.

Surveying the expansive room, Bobby found himself in awe of the state-of-the-art command centre. Officers and crewmen went about their duties with all the look of people that had served here for years. It was hard to believe that the Starbase had only been here for just over a year. He actually felt quite at home here, despite knowing he was destined for the Atalanta.
Bobby allowed his mind to wander, he could see himself sat at one of the consoles that encircled the command centre, or working one of the stations on the upper level that were positioned in front of the panoramic windows that gave an unparalleled view of the Hawkeye Nebula.
As he stood looking around the room, Bobby watched as two senior officers made their way out of the fleet of commander's ready room and towards him. It was Commander Thomas Warren, Starbase 185’s first officer and Lieutenant Commander Charles Denver, the chief engineer.
Denver was just as handsome as his friends had described him to be.
Plucking up the courage, the young chief acknowledged the commanders and introduced himself, “Ensign Bobby Young reporting for duty."
Commander Denver offered out his hand and welcomed him aboard, "Ah, Mr. Young good to have you aboard." -Charlie spoke, shaking Bobby’s hand.
There was somewhat of an awkward pause, Commander Warren however came to the ensign’s rescue, "How are you settling in Mr. Young, exited for your new position aboard the Atalanta?”
"Oh yes, really glad to be here sir."
"Glad to hear it, I believe we have a meeting planned prior to the Atalanta’s arrival -come by my office on deck seven and we'll go through the mission briefing with the rest of the new personnel."
"Really looking forward to it."
Warren smiled, he saw a little of himself in Bobby; eager, wanting to please, reminded him of what he was like on his first posting. "Well, we must be getting on ensign, lots to do."
As the two officers disappeared into the turbolift behind him, Bobby took a moment to take one last look at the command; he knew he probably wouldn't be up here much, that he’d be aboard the Atalanta pretty much full time. He noticed the 'captain's chair' at the centre of the command centre and made his way over to it. The other officers were too busy working that they didn't notice Bobby standing there. He ran his hand over the back of the headrest and, as he did a voice spoke, sending shivers down his spine. "Give it time, Young, one day you'll be sat there."
Bobby felt a hand on his shoulder, he immediately spun round to see those yellow eyes staring back at him. "We still need to complete our tour."
Doval looked at Harding with what could only be described as 'come to bed eyes,' -he gestured towards the turbolift, his face softened and guided Bobby towards it.
Whatever hold Sen had on Bobby was palpable, it was electric and it made the young ensign loose all of his common sense -he knew full well that he shouldn’t get into the turbolift with Doval, but there was something so intriguing about him that made him want to see how it played out. Was it his Risan urges, or Sen’s Akkadian bio-chemistry pulling him towards Doval, or was it something darker? Whatever it was, it was just sex. Plain and simple sex and attraction. Chemistry. And there was a chemistry between them. He smiled and followed him, before looking over his shoulder at the command centre one last time…

*_*_*_*

The Atalanta slowed to impulse as she entered the Brilnari-Star System.
Commander Ayesha Gadde, commanding officer of the starship Atalanta -part of the Ithaca Task Force, made her way out of the turbolift and on to the bridge the Prometheus-Class starship.
Gadde had been in command of the Atalanta since returning to Starfleet, she was a fierce tactician a decorated officer and despite her troubled past and her difficult working relationship with Fleet Captain Pierce, she was one of his most trusted officers.
Ayesha and Pierce would often disagree on how things should be done, how missions should be planned and how the fleet should respond to potential threats, but despite their often volatile relationship, Gadde and Pierce were able to overcome their differences. Gadde was vocal, not afraid to express her opinion and would often punch her way through an argument to ensure that she got what she wanted.

Gadde was essentially a tidal force of nature.

Walking out on to her bridge, the commander addressed her crew. She was tired, they all were, following their mission to Madani Sari to collect rare artefacts to be stowed at the starbase in case the war was to go south for the Federation. The commander had news concerning the war. The bridge crew paused, looked up from their screens and watched their commanding officer as she delivered the solemn news that The Dominion had launched a surprise invasion of Betazed from the Kalandra sector, capturing the planet in less than ten hours. With control of this key Federation member world, the Dominion had scored a decisive strategic success; it was now in a position to launch offensives against Vulcan, Andor, Tellar, and Alpha Centauri.
“Starfleet have ordered the partial break up of the Ithaca Task Force and we are ordered to take the Atalanta to the front.”
As Gadde made her way down towards her command chair at the centre of the bridge, Ayesha looked at her crew, many of whom were young, many of whom looked as though she had just signed their death certificates. Taking her seat, her half-Vulcan, half human executive officer and confidant, Lieutenant Commander Suvan Trent gave her a reassuring nod and mouthed the words, ‘It will be okay…’

*_*_*_*

Fleet Captain Jonathan Pierce had also just learned the news of the Dominion’s capture of Betazed and found himself touring the starbase to contemplate his thoughts as he made his way around the base for an early morning stroll, finding himself on the flight deck.
Pierce watched silently as Lieutenant Commander Sam Hood barked like an academy drill sergeant at his latest set of recruits into the Tactical Flight Programme -Hood was putting his new tactical flight officers through their paces. It was 05:00 hours and they were tired, having only moments ago been called from their ‘barracks’ [as Hood liked to call them,] and ordered them to report to the flight deck after only three and a half hours of rack time.
“You’re here because your are the best of what Starfleet has to offer, but as I look around, all I see are tired faces, lousy postures and scuffed boots. Your all a disgrace to that uniform.”
Pierce smiled a thin wry smile, Hood’s words harkened back to his time at the academy. He remembered on more than one occasion being spoken to like that. Yet Commander Hood wasn’t addressing a group of raw cadets, he was talking to some of Starfleet’s best and brightest pilots. Pierce knew that Hood needed to be hard on them, that if the Federation were to fall, life would not be easy and the men and women down on the flight deck would quite likely be the last line of defence…

As Pierce slipped out of the flight deck unnoticed, Lieutenant Commander Hood continued his drill. Ordering his men and women to report to their Federation attack ships for a training mission. Immediately responding to Hood’s orders, the officers scattered and made their way to their vessels. As they did, the doors to the flight deck opened, revealing a face Sam had not seen before.
“Lost lieutenant?” -Hood asked, as he made his way over to the entrance to the flight deck, greeting the unexpected visitor with the same tone he had just addressed his team.
“No sir, I am right where I am meant to be, I am Lieutenant Eva Tsu, your new tactical flight officer.” -she smiled, passing Hood a PADD containing her transfer orders.
Sam took a moment to read the information contained on the PADD and then looked her up and down before returning his attention to the PADD. “I have all the flight officers I need. More over, I don’t ever recall being notified of your transfer…” Hood paused and then looked up from the PADD in somewhat surprise, “… from the Enterprise?”
“Indeed, Captain Picard personally recommended me for the vacant position within your team…sorry, I mean programme.”
“It’s a team.” He started, somewhat proudly, his slightly larger ears bobbing up and down as he spoke, which amused Eva.
“Well, I don’t know how they do it on the Enterprise, Tsu…” he continued, “…but here, we report for duty on time and correctly dressed. You’re late lieutenant.” Hood remarked, making reference to the red shirt she wore underneath her tunic -flight officers wore white. Turning on his heel and making his way towards his fighter craft he spoke, “You can take that one, I assume you know how to fly a Mark III?”
“Indeed, sir.”
“Then get prepped, we’re leaving in five minutes.”
“For where sir?”
“Training mission; target practice in the Wild Lands.” he responded succinctly.
“The where?”
“Just man your ship Tsu…” Hood responded, his stern tone unrelenting as he pointed towards a vacant Federation fighter, “…and when we get out there, stay close to me.”
“Aye sir.”

*_*_*_*

Ayesha Gadde made her way into the captain’s ready room aboard Starbase 185. As she sauntered in late to attend the meeting, she apologised for her tardiness, explaining that Lieutenant Commander Costello’s repairs to the docking assembly had caused delays in the Atalanta docking.
Pierce shook his head as Ayesha sat down alongside his first officer Commander Warren. “If you’d kept to your mission brief, AG, then you and the Atalanta would have returned on time.”
“But…”
Pierce raised his hand, “I don’t want to hear it.” he spoke, taking a seat behind his desk and indicating to his first officer, Commander Thomas Warren to continue. “Tell her what you told me.”
Holding a PADD, the seasoned and bearded Thomas Warren shifted forward in his chair and began to explain to Ayesha what he had already explained to the captain. “I got off the comm with Starfleet Tactical this morning, they have detected a small fleet of vessels heading our way…” he paused. Thomas had always liked Gadde, he respected her and her honesty, despite her past, despite how she practically disagreed with practically everything he and the captain had to say. He knew what he was about to say was going to hit her hard, but he didn’t sugarcoat it. “And when I say heading our way, I mean that they’re nearing Tyco-Echelon, which as you know commander is only twelve light years from our location.”
Gadde’s face softened. Her beautiful brown eyes appearing to grow larger as the commander delivered the news.
Tyco-Echelon IV was her home. Her parents home. The system was relatively unremarkable, out of the way…safe. Home to several dilithium mining facilities, a small but run-down Starfleet outpost and a several pre-warp civilisations on the inner most worlds. Gadde couldn’t understand as to why this backwater would have peaked the Dominion’s interest -assuming it was the Dominion that were headed there.
“What are we going to do about it?” Ayesha asked softly.
“Sadly, nothing commander.” -Pierce started, his three words instantly getting Ayesha’s back up. “We’re under orders to dispatch the Atalanta and Odysseus to the front lines. The rest of the fleet has been ordered to remain here, at Starbase 185.”
“You’re kidding…” she shot up from her seat and made her way over to the viewport and stared out into the direction of Tyco-Echelon. “And what are you going to do with the other sixteen ships that operate out of this godforsaken place?”
“They’re all on patrol, Ayesha. They’re needed here.”
Gadde turned from the window and looked at Pierce and Warren. Her eyes were wide, full of anger and concern for her parents.
Pierce and Warren could practically hear the cogs turning metaphorically in her head as she tried to work out what to do next as her eyes darted around the room. With her arms crossed, she postulated theories about what to do next. “Let me take the Atalanta to Tyco.” -she spoke, breaking the silence. “…it’s on the way anyway. I could do a quick pass through the system and check it out.”
“What if they’re a fleet of Dominion ships, AG? Fifteen warships?” -Warren remarked, “I don’t like them odds.”
“Then come with me, bring the Odysseus?”
Warren looked at Pierce, -she had a point, two ships would be better than one. “With the Atalanta’s MVAM, we’d be a formidable presence.” Warren expressed, referring to the Multi-Vector Assault Mode —a feature developed by Starfleet for it’s Prometheus-class starships. By using advanced compartmentalisation and automation systems, a ship capable of multi vector assault mode, like the Atalanta could split itself into three separate warp-capable vessels, becoming an entire squadron operating semi-independently and in concert.
“The answer’s no.” Pierce replied, his tone authoritative. “I appreciate your eagerness to go check on your family Ayesha, but I can’t put the lives of two ships at risk to check on your folks.”
“It’s not just my family though is it captain? It’s the lives of every man, woman and child on the Tyco Colony, the dilithium minors and the populations of the inner worlds. If the Dominion attack, they all will be at risk.”
“That’s the problem.” -Thomas chimed in. “They’re not considered high risk.”
“Don’t you start.” -Captain Pierce shot Warren a scornful look.
“But she’s got a point, Jon. We’re the nearest Federation outpost to Tyco-Echelon, we have a duty to help those people.”
“The Atalanta and Odysseus are needed on the front lines. Have you both forgotten that Betazed fell only a matter of days ago. Trust me, I intend to get them there in one piece.”
Gadde shook her head. She could feel her blood boiling in her veins and pointed out of the window. “There’s sixteen ships parked out there… send them to the front line.”
“AG, please.”
“They’re needed at Tyco-Echelon...” she retaliated.
Annoyed, Pierce rose from his desk. “You’re dismissed commander. Report to the Atalanta, prepare for departure, you will join Task Force Nineteen in the Balkar-Sector.”
As Gadde stormed out of the captain’s office towards the operations centre, without saying another word, Commander Warren rose from his chair and folded his arms before stroking his beard.
Pierce could see that Thomas was not comfortable with this. Hell, they both were uncomfortable with this. The whole galaxy was uncomfortable with this. This war, this goddamned war had already taken so much from everyone. Wearing a Starfleet uniform was not as it once was. Before the war, the uniform was one worn with pride, it was a symbol of exploration, of hope, now it came with far less admirable qualities. It was a uniform placed on the backs of so many young men and women who would not live long enough to earn their stripes. A uniform worn by those who once had their whole lives mapped out for them, destined to spend their days exploring the great wonders of the galaxy. A uniform now worn by tired and wounded soldiers, who longed for this war to end.
“She’d be commanding that ship without you watching over her by now, if it wasn’t for this war Jon.” -Thomas spoke. “You know full well that Ayesha will take Atalanta to Tyco and will probably die out there if they detect her.”
“Then what do I do, Thom? Defy orders and have her go off on a wild goose chase that will probably get her and her crew killed. Loose another ship to the Dominion and for what, for nothing?” -Pierce sat back down and pondered the situation or a moment.
“Ayesha has come a long way in the time she’s been here. She’s earned the respect of her peers, contributed to making The Ark work. . . we owe her one.” Warren remarked with a sincere look on his face. “She reminds me of a young lieutenant commander I once knew…” Warren continued.
“Don’t Thom. I’m not ready for a trip down memory lane, not now, not today commander, you know me far too well.”
“Twenty three years, Jon, twenty three years.”
“You already know what I’m going to do, don’t you?” Pierce watched as Warren made his way out of his office. Warren’s reply was written all over his back. The doors slid shut as his first officer made his way into the command centre beyond, leaving him to ponder over what he was going to do with Gadde. He had to let her go. He knew full well that if it were him, that would want to do the same, to do whatever it takes to safeguard the lives of his family. But his family were dead now, he was the only one left. He knew that if he got a chance to do it all again, to have made it to them on time, to have saved them, he would have done. And it was in that moment, that the captain decided that he would defy orders and allow Ayesha take the Atalanta out to Tyco-Echelon, to save her parents homeworld from possible invasion.
But it wasn’t just the threat to Gadde’s home planet that bothered him. It was about what else was in the Tyco-Echelon System that troubled him the most…If those ships were Dominion warships and they were to truly discover the secrets of the Tyco-Echelon system, it might just cost the Federation the war…and he was damned sure that he wasn’t going to let that happen…

*_*_*_*

Hood’s squadron of Federation attack fighters were nearing the Wild Lands, a region of space home to several hundred subspace vacuoles -a region he considered perfect for putting new recruits through their paces.
Having divided the eight ships in to two groups of four, Lieutenant Hood ordered Eva Tsu to take command of Blue Flight, whilst he would command Red Flight. Using the simulated weapons computers aboard the attack fighters, Hood planned to pit his group of four ships against Tsu’s -he wanted to see what she was made of.
Sam knew that Picard would only recommend the best. He knew that Tsu would be good, but he hoped for her unfamiliarity of the area would put her on the back foot and allow him to prevail.
Fiercely competitive and a talented pilot, Sam Hood was he best of the best and he knew it. He resented his posting to Starbase 185, he would have much sooner been out there on the front lines, taking the fight to the Dominion. Instead, Hood was stationed at 185, protecting a starbase from smugglers, traders and the dregs of the Beta-Quadrant that wanted to take a piece of the Federation Ark that was Starbase 185 for themselves. He hated it here. But despite him despising his current assignment, Hood had decided to do his duty, to get on with the task at hand and he excelled at it. The men and women that he was directly responsible for admired him, worshiped the ground he walked on. They all looked up to him and he loved that. Whilst he may work them hard, he knew how to reward them -today was no exception. Once the flight testing and battle games were completed, he intended to reward his flight officers with some much needed downtime and a trip to the starbase’s holodeck facility for a night of celebration…

Eva Tsu felt at home in the cockpit of her Federation attack fighter, despite the unusual arrangement of the controls that had been reconfigured for the previous pilot. As she surveyed the controls, Eva noticed a small faded photograph of a Bajoran female wearing her tactical flight suit, holding a young child -presumably her daughter.
Unclipping the photograph, Eva took a closer look. She could see Hood in the background alongside other members of his tactical flight group. Everyone looked happy in the photograph, taken in the mess hall of the starbase. Turning the photograph over, Eva noticed that there was some writing on the back, the words, ‘We love you Sam…always’ inscribed.
It didn’t take long for Eva to put one and two together. This was clearly Sam Hood’s late partner’s ship, but Eva couldn’t quite understand why he’d assigned her this particular fighter. Unless it was to make her feel uncomfortable. Which she now did.
Placing the photograph back where she found it, Eva ran a quick diagnostic on the computerised weapons systems, scanned the area and prepared to address Blue Flight.
Within seconds, the diagnostic and sensor scan was complete, ‘Damn…that was fast!’ -she thought, impressed at the speed of the fighter craft’s systems.
Spotting a cluster of subspace vacuoles up ahead, Eva signalled her wingmen, “Tsu to all hands, set course eight one eight, by two one five, mark four one nine. Ready virtual weapons and prepare to follow me around the nearest vacuole.”
“Aye sir … Yes M’am … Acknowledged lieutenant…” -the three members of her team responded. They were ready, eager to begin. The trip to the Wild Lands was renowned for being unremarkable, but they were all keen to get started, to light up the sky…

But instead of Hood’s fleet of four fighters pursuing her and Blue Flight into the cluster of vacuoles as intended, Eva and her fellow fighter pilots were suddenly unable to locate Hood and Red Flight on sensors. They had completely vanished…without a trace…

*_*_*_*

In her quarters aboard the starbase, Ayesha was midway through packing her belongings to have beamed aboard the Atalanta.
She was angry, damned angry at Pierce -all she wanted to do was get as far away from him, The Ark and go to the Tyco-Echelon colony to her parents, to make sure that they were safe.
The Dominion War had already cost her the life of her brother -the chief tactical officer of the starship Sitak and she was damned sure that she wasn’t going to loose her parents. Despite the distance, Ayesha and her parents were close, speaking daily via subspace during her time stationed on Starbase 185.
But they had not been in touch for several days. In her last conversation with her mother, she learned that an ion storm was headed their way. Gadde wished she had told her mother that she loved her, but instead they argued over their safety and wanting her parents to join her on 185 where she could keep an eye on them, protect them.
As she threw several personal items into one of the packing crates, the door chimed, indicating that she had a visitor. Ayesha was in no mood for guests.
“Come.” she barked, her back to the door.
“I just wanted to let you know our new helmsman has arrived and is settling in aboard the…” Lieutenant Commander Suvan Trent’s voice trailed off as the half human, half Vulcan made his way into the room and noticed that Ayesha had packed a considerable amount of her possessions.
“How long are you planning on leaving for, commander?” -Ayesha’s first officer and acting chief tactical officer asked before sitting down behind her desk.
“Considering we’re headed to the front lines, Suvan, I’m guessing this will be a pretty permanent affair.”
“Have you not heard?” -he asked, looking at several photographs that were scattered on the desktop -one of which depicted Ayesha with her parents and late brother. “We’ve been ordered to the Tyco-Echelon System.”
Gadde stopped and turned around to face her first officer. “Say what, commander?”
Suvan smiled -something, that despite how long Gadde had served with Trent, she was never comfortable with. Vulcan’s did not smile. “Captain Pierce has issued us new orders, to take the Atalanta to Tyco-Echelon IV and to evacuate the Federation colonists that are located on the surface.”
“That son of a bitch.” -Gadde remarked, “He didn’t even have the gaul to tell me himself.”
“The captain, and I’m assuming you’re talking about the captain explained that he was unable to reach you, that you had disabled comms to your quarters.” -it was a fair point. Gadde had disabled her comms to allow her to pack in peace -that and she was too pissed to talk to anyone.
“Our departure time remains unchanged, we will leave at 14:00, this afternoon.” -Suvan explained, “However, there has been a slight amendment.”
“Oh?” -Ayesha looked up from the framed picture of her brother that she held in her hand.”
“Commander Warren will be in command of the Atalanta.”
Ayesha closed her eyes. She wasn’t going to let Suvan see her completely loose it in front of him. “Understood.”
It didn’t take much for Suvan to realise that Ayesha had been further annoyed by the captain and for that reason, he rose from behind her desk and politely excused himself. As the doors to Ayesha’s quarters closed, all of the anger and animosity towards Pierce reached a near rage from within. She threw the picture frame across the room and watched it shatter into a million pieces after hitting the wall.
Ayesha Gadde was angry. Damned angry…and she wanted answers. Slamming the crate she had been packing shut, the commander grabbed her uniform jacket and stormed out of her quarters…outward to the captain’s office…she wanted answers…

*_*_*_*

Eva had ran several sensors scans, none of which determined the location of Hood and the three other Federation attack fighters. Red Flight was nowhere to be seen. Tsu was concerned, the subspace vacuoles were putting out an inordinate amount of energy readings making it impossible to find them. Was it possible that Red Flight were still out there? That this was Hood’s plan all along, to make it look like his ships had disappeared off sensors? Who knew. But Eva was worried.
Tapping her combadge, she signalled Sojen, one of the junior tactical flight officers assigned to her command, call sign: Majestic. “Majestic, are your sensors functioning correctly?” -she asked.
Sojen responded almost instantly, “Affirmative, all sensors are operating within normal parameters.” he spoke in a typically cool Vulcan fashion -It was like she was talking to an android. It reminded her of the Enterprise’s operations officer. She smiled to herself for a second. “And this is definitely not some kind of game, designed to scare new recruits.”
“I wouldn’t know m’am, the commander initiated me into the group by very different means.”
“I shudder to think what you mean by that ensign … can you run another scan of the area.”

As Eva continued to try and locate Red Flight by way of running increasingly complicated sensor scans, her fighter craft started to shudder heavily, the vacuoles were becoming somewhat unstable. It was clear that they couldn’t remain here much longer.
Eva didn’t like this one bit. Whether this was Hood’s doing or not, she wasn’t prepared to wait around for whatever caused Red Flight to disappear to take her and the others.
Tsu tapped the controls and attempted to open a distress call to the starbase, but the moment she accessed the comms array, the fighter craft’s main computer started to fail. The display in front of her started to flicker. Power was failing. Was this what had happened to Hood’s team?
With no response from the comms array, Eva attempted to bring the impulse engines online, but like the comms, the engines were down. Her fighter was now dead in space. She could no longer reach Sojen or the others.
Reaching down the side of the cockpit chair, she pulled up a small lever, prompting an automated response from the ship’s failing computer.
“AUTOMATED DISTRESS BEACON LAUNCHED.” -the fight craft’s computer sounded before it shut down for good.
Tsu looked out of the window and watched the distress beacon disappear into the void. As she watched the small automated beacon grow smaller, she noticed that Sojen’s fighter craft was drifting dangerously close to one of the vacuoles. But there was no way she could help him. There was nothing she could do from inside her fighter craft.
She looked around the cockpit compartment for something, anything to use to help her and the rest of her team get out of this predicament.
Her eyes darted around the small confined space until they landed on the EVA draws above her head.
She wondered to herself if she was stupid enough. Stupid enough to pull on an environmental suit, evacuate the craft and use the thruster pack to make her way over to Sojen’s fighter and push his vessel clear of the vacuole.
Deciding that this wasn’t stupidity, that it was an act of ingenuity and quick thinking, Eva reached up to the environmental suit draw and pulled it open.
The helmet from the suit suddenly fell into her lap, quickly followed by the suit itself and the anti-gravity boots. Climbing out of the cockpit chair, Tsu pulled on the suit and carried out a quick succession of checks to make sure the environmental suit was space worthy.
With no way of beaming off the fighter, Tsu knew that the suit’s thruster pack was her only option. Thankfully, Federation attack fighters were built for two occupants. She knew that she’d be safe inside Sojen’s fighter, but what troubled her was how she was going to achieve this feat of ‘ingenuity.’
Eva didn’t know that Sojen was part Betazoid and as far as she was concerned, Sojen would have no way of knowing that she was coming, no way of communicating with her util it was too late, until Tsu would be right on top of him. Regardless, Eva knew that there were no other option available. It would take too long for the distress beacon to reach the starbase, she really was on her own and Sojen’s life depended on her -it was like history was repeating itself.
Putting the memories of the past to the back of her mind, Eva threw on the helmet and completed final checks. The wrist mounted display indicated that the environmental suit was safe to use and air tight, she was ready to exit the fighter via the escape hatch and proceed to standing on the outer hull, ready to push off in the direction of Sojen.
Tsu stood on the outer hull for several seconds before putting her plan into motion, taking in the incredible view that was afforded to her. The swirling mass of subspace vacuoles made her feel somewhat queasy -either that or it was the effects of being in the weightless environment of space. She feel sick to her stomach and claustrophobic inside the suit.
“Computer, activate thruster pack and initiate a five second countdown.” she spoke, swallowing down her nerves hard as she got into position to push off from the fighter craft.
“E.V.A. THRUSTER PACK ONLINE … FIVE SECOND ACTIVATION SEQUENCE INITIATED … FIVE … FOUR … THREE … TWO … ONE … THRUSTER PACK FIRING.” the computer’s automated voice sounded in the environmental suit’s helmet.

Eva was suddenly propelled forward towards Sojen’s fighter craft. It took her a few seconds to stabilise herself and used the environmental suit’s internal micro computer to calculate her vector. Flying through the vacuum of space at what felt like an incredible velocity she felt her nausea subside as it was replaced by adrenaline firing through her veins.
“WARNING, IMPACT ALERT!” -the computer warned as she neared Sojen’s fighter.
By now, she could see Sojen inside his craft, calling out to her, telling her to stop. But Eva had no choice, she had committed to this cause of action and was only seconds away from making contact with his craft.
“Computer, forward thrusters, slow me down!” -she cried, realising that she was travelling too fast, but there was no response. Something had caused the micro-computer to fail -perhaps it was the same phenomenon that was affecting the fighters, she thought.
With only seconds to spare before she’d reach her final destination, Eva put her hands out in front of her and braced to make contact with Sojen’s fighter. Thankfully the thruster pack disengaged in time, having expended all of its fuel -Eva hoped that there would still be enough inertia to push the fighter out of the way of the vacuole.
Eva hit the Sojen’ fighter craft hard, but pushing it out of danger. She felt her arms break upon impact and screamed out in agony as she clung onto the now spiralling vessel.
Tsu could see Sojen calling out to her again. Signalling to her that he was putting on his environmental suit and was coming to get her. But she was in so much pain and without her environmental suit’s micro computer working, she was unable to initiate a compression field around her arms to prevent any further damage. Tsu started to drift in and out of consciousness, seeing only flashes of what was about to come…

Sojen, climbed out of the spiralling fighter craft, clinging to the hatch as it banked, twisted and turned in space away from the vacuole. His anti-gravity boots were unresponsive -which was his own fault as he failed to check his suit in his haste to rescue Tsu.
After two terrifying minutes, Sojen’s boots finally kicked in, allowing him to more effectively reach Tsu, who’s hands were still clinging on to the wing of his fighter craft for dear life.
By now, Tsu was completely unconscious. Sojen struggled to reach her for a moment, but managed to use his own thruster pack to give himself a boost.
Pulling her inside the fighter craft, Sojen manually secured the cabin and pressurised the hatch above him.
Lying Tsu down on the cockpit floor, Sojen pulled out a tricorder from one of the emergency storage bins and quickly assessed her condition. Noting her broken arms and a fractured pelvis, Sojen was reluctant to remove her helmet. Opening another storage bin, he removed an emergency med-kit and pulled out a hypo filled with cordrazine before inserting it into a port into her environmental suit.
Sojen didn’t have a clue if that would work, if injecting the pain relief drug directly into the suit would help, but he had no choice.
Suddenly, out of the main viewport, Sojen noticed another one of Blue Flight’s fighters nearby. It was Ensign Jones, call sign: Bakerman.
Like his and Tsu’s fighter, approaching vessel was adrift. Sojen noticed that Bakerman’s starboard wing was heavily damaged. Quickly getting to his feet and making his way to the front of the cockpit, Sojen boosted the range of the medical tricorder -by tying it into his combadge and attempted to scan the approaching fighter’s pilot.
Seconds later, a monotone, flatline sound could be heard coming from Sojen’ tricorder, quashing Sojen’s hopes for Jones’ survival hard. What little colour he had in his face palled and he wondered whether they would ever get out of this.
Using all available evidence open to him, he concluded that Bakerman had struck one of the vacuoles and that the impact must have killed him. With hope fading, one of his teammates dead, another unaccounted for and Tsu gravely injured, Sojen had no choice but to wait for rescue, or for the air to run out…

*_*_*_*

Disengaging from the docking port, The Atalanta departed Starbase 185 and made its way clear of The Ark. The Prometheus-Class starship under the command of Commander Thomas Warren powered up for warp and disappeared into the void with a flash of light.

Commander Warren was stood alongside the Atalanta’s chief science officer, a joined Trill named Lieutenant Jerzan Gray. The pair were mid-discussion, concerning readings the lieutenant had detected emanating from the Wild Lands -which were less than two parsecs away. The commander shook his head, he knew that Hood had only this morning took his squadron out into the Wild Lands. He was concerned that they were in trouble.
The tall, dashing, dark haired lieutenant remarked that the readings indicate that the vacuoles in the region are in a state of flux, that the fighter team may indeed be in trouble.
Thomas was reluctant to alter course, he didn’t want to draw too much attention to the Atalanta operating near the vacuoles however, he knew that if the tactical flight squadron were in trouble, they had no choice but to alter course and investigate -Warren new that this wouldn’t go down well with Pierce. They had to reach Tyco-Echelon before the Dominion arrived.
“What about separating the tertiary hull and mounting a rescue?” -asked Jerzan
“We need all three sections of the Atalanta for our mission to Tyco, lieutenant, we can’t afford to break up the ship and go our separate ways.” -Warren aired as Gadde arrived on the bridge.
“Ah, commander, good to see you.” -Warren expressed, “Join us, won’t you?”
Gadde nodded in Warren’s direction and made her way to the science station where he and Gray stood. “We’re picking up some strange readings from the Wild Lands.” Before Ayesha could even get a word out, Ensign Bobby Young looked up from his console, “Commander Warren, we’re detecting an automated distress buoy from the Wild Lands, -it’s the tactical flight squadron, they’re in trouble sir.”
That was it. They had no choice, as far as Warren was concerned they had to alter course.
Ayesha’s heart sunk as she heard the ensign break the news. But she wasn’t having any of it, they had a mission here, they had to get to Tyco before the Dominion fleet arrived. Pushing down her feelings of concern for Hood and his team, Ayesha turned to Suvan and spoke, “Commander Suvan, hail The Ark, have them dispatch a rescue ship to the Wild Lands.”
“Delay that!” Commander Warren barked, before Suvan even had a chance to acknowledge Gadde’s order. “Ensign Young, alter course to the Wild Lands and increase to maximum warp.” Warren spoke before looking at Gray, “Jerzan, relay all sensor data on the Wild Lands to the helm, give the ensign a hand with plotting a course through the vacuoles.”
“Aye sir.” the Trill replied.
“Engage when ready, ensign.” Warren authoritatively spoke before taking a seat at the centre of the bridge, reminding Ayesha of just who was in charge here.
Gadde stood silently with gritted teeth and clenched fists. She was in no mood for games, no mood for this power play. Yet she had no choice, she couldn’t be seen to be disobeying orders again. She had been there before, hell, that’s what cost her her commission before and she wasn’t about to loose it again, not now, not with her family’s lives in the balance and with that, she joined Suvan at tactical, who offered her a reassuring smile. Telling her once again, “It will be okay…”

To Be Continued…

Image Credits:
Starbase by Raul Mamoru
Spacescape by Starkiteckt Designs