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Star Trek: Antares
Season One Episode Seven - “What Dreams Indeed...” - Part II

Written By Alex Matthews

Created by Jonathan Crosby-Bromley
and Alex Matthews

If I get any more of the cold shoulder, I'm gonna freeze to death...
Standing out of the way as much as possible, Cinaran felt very much alone on the command deck of the Endurance. He watched as the crew and technicians went about their jobs with calm military precision, a testament to their training. But there was little in the way of human interaction or camaraderie.
All because of his being there.
The Betazoid didn't need his telepathic senses to read the clear hostility many of the crew still felt regarding him. He could see it in their eyes whenever someone shot him a quick look, a sly peek out of the corner of their eye or just glared at him openly. No one had said a word to him, beyond Mendoza, and even she still kept her distance.
Not that he could blame her. He was an unknown quantity. Both he and Solan represented so much they didn't understand. But at least they were out of their cells and being treated like guests, not prisoners. Even if they still had a long way to go.
Speak of the devil... The familiar serenity of the Vulcan's mind touched at Cinaran's, and he turned towards the egress doors as they opened, admitting Solan and an escort. The science officer managed to suppress a wince at the clear evidence of the Vulcan's earlier mistreatment, taking solace in the fact that Solan was up and about.
But he couldn't help but gasp slightly as he felt the increase in negative emotions from the crew around them. They did their best to fight back at the sight of someone who looked so like the feared 'green-bloods', but it was a struggle for all of them. The silence in the command deck became even heavier and doom-laden. To the point that all the crew looked to their commanding officer at her post.
Unlike many starships, the Endurance command deck lacked a 'command chair', instead having a free-standing workstation on a raised dias. Like the rest of the command deck's control consoles, it used physical switches and toggles, but also incorporated several LCD screens for the ship's commander. It was with baited breath that everyone stopped what they were doing as Mendoza turned from her station to face Solan and Cinaran. Finally, she stepped down on to the deck proper, quickly closing the distance between herself and her guests with several strides.
"Commander Solan," she began, hands interlaced behind her back, the picture of parade rest, back straight and shoulder locked. "I offer my sincere apologies at the way you have been treated."
Cinaran did his best to hide his surprise. This was the last thing he expected to hear. But the truth was, Mendoza did feel guilt and was being utterly genuine with her words as she continued, "The crew take from my example, but I allowed a gross breach of acceptable behaviour by not putting a stop to the enhanced measures of your interrogation."
Solan remained silent. Not even cocking an eyebrow in his usual fashion, allowing the colonel to say what she needed to, "I hope that whatever future relations between our people, we can move forward from this?"
Finished, she offered a hand to the Vulcan. The old human gesture of a 'handshake'. Cinaran bit his lip in sudden anxiety at the diplomatic minefield that had just formed. Of course, Mendoza had no idea that Vulcans were touch-telepaths, so limited their physical contact with those not of their own species. Would Solan's rejection of the offered hand cause even more offence..?
But much to the Betazoid's stunned amazement, he watched as Solan clasped Mendoza's hand and gave it a vigorous pump. Well, I'll be damned..!
"It is my wish that we do indeed move forward as well, Colonel." Solan replied with typical stoic tone, but Cinaran could have sworn he heard - and felt - just a minor undercurrent of sincerity in the Vulcan's voice. "I hope that my time among your crew will allow you to see that Vulcans are of no threat to you, and we share little of our Romulan cousins prediliction for violence."
He released her hand, with Mendoza offered a brief but affirming nod of respect. Begrudging, yes, but respect all the same, "Me as well, Commander." She cleared her throat, as Cinaran felt the momentary surge of relief at receiving Solan's forgiveness, how it helped ease her shame. She stood that little bit straighter, as she turned and headed back to her station, gesturing for them both to follow.
As they flanked her, Cinaran could feel the tension of the crew lifting, the air feeling lighter now as the crew reacted to the actions and words of their commander. Maybe there is hope yet...
"We're still in orbit of the fourth planet," Mendoza briefed them. "Hopefully, once the Antares gets her and we compared notes, between our two ships, we can figure out just where the Romulans might be hiding out." She looked to Cinaran himself, "Any suggestions on how to enhance our scanners would be welcome."
Feeling a familiar thrill, and after getting a nod of approval from Solan, Cinaran nodded, "I can take a look, sure." He quickly realized he had no actual idea just what kind of systems the Endurance actually sported, "But I can't make any promises until I take a look at your hardware and operating system."
Mendoza waved one of the techs over, who then lead Cinaran back to an out of the way work-station. Thankfully, the control readouts were easily enough understood and controls clearly marked. However, it was pretty clear that the people of New Jamestown had prioritized strength and power over scientific curiosity and a desire for knowledge - the scanning systems were more on par with old Earth Starfleet designs.
Still, Cinaran couldn't fault them their belief - if Betazed had been at the mercy of aggressive aliens during their first steps into outer space, they might too have gone down the path of 'might is right'.
As he worked with the tech, whose own nerves at working with 'an alien' were slowly easing, Cinaran easily came to grips with it. They've got the tech and capability, he soon realized with relief, they've just never had the need to use it beyond what it can normally do.
Let's see if I can change that...

* * *

The brainstorming session had been eventful, to say the least. With both Hassani and th'Dane invited, the two of them had offered opinions and suggestions that perhaps the senior officers of the Antares might not have thought of. Including Maggie Campbell had added another wild-card to the discussions, but Tel knew that behind the snark and quips, Maggie was one of the best 'out-of-the-box' thinkers around.
In their short time together in the conference room, they'd managed to understand and clarify several important points. The Winds of Andoria had flaunted Federation shipping statutes by deviating from their filed flight plan and cutting across a large swath of the Expanse. A 'short-cut', th'Dane had embarrassingly explained to the group, that his skipper had been using for years, despite Starfleet declaring the Expanse off-limits to all civilian vessels operating in the region.
Given the fact that the Winds had apparently been using this illegal route for a while, it stood to reason that the Romulans had only recently moved into the Expanse. Otherwise, the Winds may very well have met it's destruction long before now. If the Romulans were operating in the Expanse under such secrecy, it also seemed logical that they would only have destroyed the Winds because they believed the freighter had come across something it shouldn't have.
"Our sensors weren't the best," th'Dane had explained, "but we picked up some kind of weird subspace..." He'd paused, seemingly struggling for the right word before shrugging in defeat, "a 'wobble', I guess you could call it, when we had to slow to impulse when this high-energy ion storm caught us by surprise."
A 'wobble'? Tel was no science officer, but both Reese and Clarke had agreed with her that it could have been a distortion as a result of the ions interacting with a cloaking field. If the Winds had inadvertently picked up a Romulan ship, it may very well have felt that the Winds could compromise both the ship they spotted and what it represented.
Like the possible location of wherever the Romulans had set up a forward operating base.
They were too far away from Star Empire space for casual back-and-forth, especially given how many Federation outposts monitored Romulan space. Each equipped with the latest in counter-cloak technology and advanced sensors arrays designed exclusively to watch out for any possible breaches.
The Winds of Andoria had been half-way through its 'short-cut' when the Romulans had attacked, pushing them further into the Expanse, coralling them to System Q-241. Somewhere out of the way for the ship to crash, out of sight and out of mind. Another casualty of the mystery of the Typhon Expanse. It was pure luck the Antares was even in the region close enough to pick up their distress call, to scan the site of attack soon enough to still find evidence of Romulan weapons.
But the Antares was not a ship of the line. Not a combat vessel, at least not one that could go toe-to-toe with a Romulan cruiser. They'd had 40 years to improve their technology away from the prying eyes of the rest of the galaxy.
Tel had no desire to take a ship full of children into combat against an enemy with who-knew-how-many unknown technological enhancements.
It all came down to the fact that the Antares was undermanned and ill-equipped for the sudden course-change in their assignment. But they were the only Starfleet vessel operating within range of these goings-on, so they had a duty to do what they could. For now. Even if Tel didn't already think that, the brief communique she'd received from DS4 before the meeting had given her little choice. Her orders were to investigate any Romulan presence within the Expanse and report back, while awaiting tactical support.
With that in mind, as the rest of the staff took their leave for some needed down-time, Tel spoke up, "Mr th'Dane, please stay. I'd like a word."
The Andorian, looking decidedly nervous, slowly retook him seat. Maggie Campbell also remained in her seat to Tel's right, toying with a PADD. The C.M.O., as Reese had done when asked her opinion, had voiced her concerns regarding what Tel was about to ask of the young man, so soon after surviving a crash-landing and loosing his crew.
"You can't expect anyone to want to jump back in the saddle this fast, Hel," she had brusquely pointed out in her way. "Even if he wasn't recovering from the physical trauma, he's still processing the emotional effects."
Tel, though, had convinced her that this would be the best way to help the th'Dane heal and move on from his experiences. To help begin the healing process. By being the support system he needed, just like she'd heard Dayan reminded him of.
"If this is about the Winds violating statutes," th'Dane began, wringing his hands, solitary antenna twitching with anxious energy, "I know I should have noted an official objection the first time I found out they--"
Tel quickly waved away the young man's worries, "What's done is done, Mr. th'Dane." She offered a supportive smile, "I'd rather talk about your future."
She could see his growing puzzlement and confusion, so she continued, making a point to project a business-like, harsh manner, "Let me be perfectly blunt, Mr. th'Dane. The Antares is in hostile territory with an inexperienced crew. I have no desire to take this ship into battle again, but it may very well happen, so I need all the able bodies I can get."
Understanding seemed to light up the Andorian's eyes as she carried on, "Now, under Starfleet regulations, I have the right to reactivate your commission and put you to work." She then softened her tone, dropping her charade, "But I would much rather have you work with me, not for me. The truth is, I need you on my bridge. So, I'd like to ask you to allow me to temporarily reactivate your commission, and once this situation is dealt with, I will happily drop you back at DS4. Free from any further obligation to Starfleet."
She ignored the pointed look she could see Maggie shooting at her. Yes, she was aware of the fact that the Antares might not make it back to port in one piece. All too aware, in fact. But she wanted - needed - to believe and hope they would. "However, if you don't feel that--"
"I accept." The reply was so matter-of-fact that Tel almost didn't register it. She could see her own surprise mirrored in Maggie's stunned look. "I would be proud to serve on this ship, Captain Tel."
That was easier then I expected... Still, she not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth in these strenuous times, "Very well then."
She stood, offering her hand to th'Dane, who shook it eagerly, "Thank you, Captain."
"Welcome aboard the Antares, Ensign th'Dane."

* * *

Huh, Reese mused privately as she looked up to see who was entering the bridge from the opening port-side entrance. Guess he said yes after all...
When Captain Tel had outlined her plan to recruit Olishnavar th'Dane, Reese had made her doubts clear that he would agree to her suggestion. It wasn't that she had anything against the young man - in fact, she liked him a whole lot. He'd met her earlier challenges to his recounting of the attack on the Winds of Andoria with confidence and determination. Even before that, the acting First Officer had been impressed with th'Dane's attempt to convince the away team to leave him behind to secure their own safety.
But that didn't change the fact that, despite impressive credentials, he'd been out of Starfleet a good few years. Not to mention that he was still recovering from a near-death crash landing and the associated wounds and injuries he'd sustained as a result. In her current capacity as a sounding-board to her commanding officer, Reese would have been remiss in her duties to not point these out.
Still, Reese couldn't help but smile at the sight of the clearly-nervous Andorian smoothing down his standard-issue mustard/gold operations division uniform. Combadge in place, with the lone rank pip denoting his rank as Ensign. The picture-perfect image of a well-turned out Starfleet officer. He met the curious glances his way without batting an eye-lid, but Reese saw the almost imperceptible twitch of his intact antenna as he walked the deck.
It was Tel who brought the odd silence that had followed th'Dane's arrival on the bridge to an end as she stood from her chair and approached him. Giving him an appraising look, before offering a grin, "I see you found your way to the quartermaster's office, Ensign."
"A tighter fit then I remember, ma'am," th'Dane quipped, a slight tremble in his voice the only other indication of whatever nervses or anxiety he was dealing with. Reese couldn't help but be impressed with him. Despite everything, th'Dane was facing his trauma head-on and not sitting out on the sidelines. "But I'll get used to it."
Tel's grin broadened, "Take your station, Mr. th'Dane."
He offered a brisk nod, before moving down to the lower level and taking the navigation position, having been vacating by Petty Officer Kirchaal only moments before. The enlisted Rigellian was an able member of the crew, but she herself had been more then ready to admit that she lacked the training or experience that th'Dane had. Kirchaal would be better put to use assisting the other engineering personnel with all the repairs still needing to be tended to.
Reese wasn't a big fan of the idea of taking the Antares back to the site of battle, at barely half-strength, even if they were 'all friends now' with Hassani's people. She had never been one to let go of a grudge easily, and being shot at tended to piss her off remarkably effectively. Not to mention the fact that both Xerx and Solan were still in their custody. The Betazoid's oblique reference to having 'issues' had left her worried for the both of them, but more for Solan in particular.
But Reese was also a pragmatist and understood the need to compare notes with the only other people who had any idea that Romulans had been skulking about the Typhon Expanse.
I just hope the captain's faith in Hassani isn't misplaced...
It was with those kinds of concerned thoughts running through her head that Reese spent the next few minutes. She managed to distract herself from worrying by focusing on her duties, checking several diagnostics she was running on various tactical systems. Pleased to see that all the shield generators were operating back up to 90% efficiency, but not happy that several torpedo launching subroutines were still glitching thanks to power surges through the EPS relays.
Dayan's clipped British tones brought her back to the present, "Approaching System Q-241."
"Slow to impulse, Lieutenant," Tel ordered crisply. Reese noted how she leaned forward just a little in her command chair. Was is excitement or trepidation that made her do it. Not for the first time, Reese wished she had at least a modicum of Xerx's Betazoid gifts. "Anything on sensors?"
While Clarke ran a series of scans, Reese brought up her own sensor feed as the young science officer replied. "I'm picking up the Endurance near the fourth planet, Captain," she explained, sounding almost bewildered, "But, ma'am, I'm also picking up something very weird."
Yeah, that's one word for it. Reese frowned at what she was seeing, barely making any heads or tails of it, despite the computer's assistance. Even when Clarke elaborated, Reese still felt clueless, "There is some kind of strange gravimetric disturbance surrounding the Endurance. Gravity in the immediate area around the ship is undergoing constant shifts."
In contrast to everyone else, when Hassani spoke up, he sounded nonchalant, "There's no need to worry." He met both Tel's questioning look, as well as Reese's own rather waspish glare, with an annoying hint of amusement, "They're just purging the gravitic fold generator."
Despite her annoyance at Hassani's blase attitude, Reese was satisfied to finally learn the name of the so-called 'big gun' Captain Tel's after-action report on the engagement with the Endurance had mentioned. "That's the gravity weapon you used before?"
Hassani nodded sagely, "Yes. Something we developed from the original artificial gravity research being done on S.O.R.A. With Liirani tech, we were able to weaponize it." He shrugged carelessly, "But the excess gravitons can cause localized sensor interference, so every so often it has to be shut down while the scanners are recalibrated."
"That would explain the gravitic anomalies," Clarke agreed, but then pointed to a display, "But there's also several unusual subspace wakes passing through the graviton field."
Hassani's frown did not sit well with Reese, "That's not a normal by-product. The engines are shut down during a purge, and flight operations are cancelled to avoid accidents."
"Captain..?" Something in th'Dane's tone made the hair on the back of Reese's neck stand on end. It was not a good feeling.
She looked to the Andorian as he stared at his navigational readouts, "I recognize the subspace signature of those wakes." He turned to face Tel, eyes wide with realization and dread, "They all almost near enough match the 'wobble' we picked up on the Winds..."
The rest of the sentence went unsaid, but Reese got the idea - 'right before the Romulans attacked'...

* * *

Around the Endurance, space was twisted and distorted. But now, several distinct areas began to solidify, transforming into sleek, avian-like shapes.
Within seconds, those four areas fully faded into view with a deliberate, tauntingly-slow pace. Each with forward-swept wings that arched out and tapered off into a powerful looking nacelle. The fore of the vessels narrowed into a vicious point that housed glowing weapons emplacements...

* * *

Oh, shit...
It was all hands on deck on the Endurance's command center. They were practically flying blind, while the scanner arrays were brought back on-line frustratingly slow. Crewmen and techs ran between consoles, passing orders and confirming vessel status as battle alarms echoed so loud that the deckplates under Cinaran's feet felt like they were reverberating.
The Betazoid stood at one of the anciliiary bulkhead consoles under the large forward viewscreen. Desperately trying to coax just a little more data out of systems that were outdated at least two decades compared to the Antares. But I'm not on the Antares, more's the pity, so I have to work with what I've got...
"We've got four Romulan birds-of-prey taking positions all around us!" He had to yell to be heard above the din of both alert sirens and panicked crew. Although the design of the ships was completely new to him, the classic design architecture and general power signatures gave away their identity. Not to mention the raptor imagery emblazoned on the vessel's dorsal hull, displayed with intent as they soared past and around the stationary Endurance.
He looked over to where Solan stood with Mendoza at the later's command console. "We should attempt to communicate with them," offered the Vulcan.
Mendoza pursed her lips, disgust coming off her in waves. She hated the very idea of being at the mercy of 'green-bloods'. Cinaran was impressed when he felt her push her instinctive reactions down, as she shook her head, "We're still comm-blind because of the purge."
"Then I suggest we 'sit tight'," Solan responded. "Perhaps they have no desire to engage in hosilities unless provoked?"
How on Earth did the Winds of Andoria 'provoke' them, Cinaran mused with distaste. A Monarch-class freighter was no kind of opponent, but Romulans had chased it down and destroyed it. Still, he held his tongue, knowing that Solan was right to try to urge a peaceful resolution to this stand-off.
However, any hopes for that option went out the window when he notes the sudden build-up in the forward weapons array in the closest ship, "They're firing!"
The disruptor blast slammed into the Endurance, sending the crew of the command deck flying. The reinforced armor that covered the ship absorbed the worst of it, but damage-control alarms still went off on multiple panels and displays across the compartment.
"I think that answers your question, Commander!" Mendoza spat, as she gripped tightly onto her console to avoid being thrown to the deck by the ship's wild bucking.
"Indeed." His reply, delivered with typical Vulcan stoicism, seemed so at odds with the current situation that Cinaran very nearly gave in to an almost insane urge to laugh. By sheer force of will, he didn't.
"All crew, bring the ship to attack posture," Mendoza called out, focusing on the battle her ship was now pulled in to. "Bring weapons batteries on line, and prep the grav-generator for immediate discharge as soon as the coils are clear!"
Cinaran backed off, moving out of the way of the personnel moving all around him. He wasn't the least bit familiar with their battle protocols and would end up being more of a hindrance then anything. The best place for him was at Solan's side, keeping out from underfoot as the Endurance crew went to work.
He hated it. He wasn't a soldier, a warrior. But he didn't like standing on the side-lines while others fought to keep themselves and others alive.
However, this wasn't his ship. His crew. All he could do was wait it out. To render aid and assistance if and when it was called for. For now, his fate was in the hands of people he barely knew and still wasn't sure he could trust.
Not like I have a whole lot of choice, though...

* * *

"Red Alert. All hands to battle stations."
Tel's voice was calm and controlled, but with a tense undercurrent as she gave the order and sat up straight in her seat. Her eyes were fixed on the sight of the Endurance being absolutely pummelled by disruptor blasts from the attacking Romulan cruisers. Birds-of-prey, by the size and look of the design, Reese hypothesised, but not a class I recognize.
The bridge lights dimmed as the alert lighting kicked in. The klaxons sounded several times as Ensign Ye relayed the order called the crew to their posts. Acting on instinct borne from years of training, Reese brought all weapons systems to full readiness without waiting for any official orders. They were on-line within seconds, as all shield generators went into active mode and surrounded the Antares in their protective bubble.
"Shields up, all phaser banks online, torpedo launchers loaded," she reported crisply as everyone else on the bridge went about their tasks. Dayan and th'Dane had their heads lowered, conferring in quiet whispers, while Ye continued collating deck readiness reports. Reese couldn't help but feel sorry for them - out of all of them, she was the only one to see full-on combat prior to their time in the Expanse.
I wonder how many of them will live to see more..?
The thought came unbidden, and Reese quickly quashed it. Now was not the time to be thinking along those lines. Instead, she needed to her head in the game. Although she was no stranger to ship-to-ship combat, she didn't know the Antares's tactical profile as well as she'd like. That was not been her main priority when she'd been prepping for this assignment. I was supposed to be a teacher, not a tactical officer...
The last time Antares had gone into battle, for however brief a time under misunderstood circumstances, she had not been on-board. This would be her first outing handling the Miranda-class starship's weapons. She didn't doubt her own skills, though, or her experiences throughout her career. Despite the off-ramp her career might have taken to become a member of faculty at the Academy, she was a fighter first and foremost.
She would do whatever it took to keep her crew safe.
With a brief glance, Reese also made a note of the fact that Hassani had barely moved. His gaze still on the screen, taking in the image of his ship buckling under the constant Romulan barrage. Despite her justifiable animosity towards him, she felt a twinge of sympathy for the man - cut off from his people, forced to stand by idly as they fought hard, unable to do anything to assist. A feeling she had been all too familiar with when she'd been stuck on the planet the Endurance still orbitted.
[Engine Room to Bridge!] Mitchell Hanover's perturbed voice cut through the near-silence of the bridge that had settled over the bridge since the alert klaxons had been silenced. [Are you freaking serious with this Red Alert crap?!]
Reese couldn't fault the chief gineer. Once again, the Antares was about to enter the fray of battle. The wounds still fresh from their earlier scuffle. Hanover and her team of techs, interns and cadets - including Charlie - had barely stopped since the Antares had warped away from this very system not too long ago. Still, it was hard to not wince a little as the engineer continued on, [We've only just gotten most of our damaged systems back up and running again!]
The captain's reply was collected and level, not rising to her chief engineer's ire, "It can't be helped, Chief. I know we're not in top fighting shape, but we've got Romulans dead ahead, and the Endurance is no match for them on their own."
Hanover sounded somewhat mollified as she responded after a moment's aggrieved silence, [Fine. I'll do what I can to keep this bucket of bolts together. But we're not going to last too long in a fire-fight ourselves, Cap.]
"Understood. Bridge out." Tel cut the channel with a stab of her finger on her armrest controls.
It was like the entire bridge crew was holding their breath. Even Hassani broke his gaze away from the screen to look to Tel, who remained unmoving in her chair.
Finally, she looked over her shoulder to Reese herself. Locked eyes with her. Her gaze questioning. Needing reassurance.
The acting First Officer offered a small nod of acknowledgement. Confirmation that she was making the right decision. The only decision. No matter what, Starfleet did not just walk away from a situation like this.
They would not leave anyone to the mercy of the Romulans.
With the barest hint of a grateful smile, Tel then faced forward again. Hands gripping her armrest with a white-knuckle grip as she spoke the words they were all waiting for.
"Helm. Take us in."

---------------------------------------------
To Be Concluded in
EPISODE 8: "A DOUBLE-EDGED SWORD"
---------------------------------------------

CAST
Vicky McClure as Lieutenant Daniela Reese
with
Marcia Cross as Captain Helena Tel
Steven R. McQueen as Commander Solan
Indira Varma as Commander (Dr.) Maggie Campbell
Hannah John-Kamen as Lieutenant Mitchell Hanover
Kit Harrington as Lieutenant Eitan Dayan
Freddie Fox as Olishnavar ‘Oli’ th'Dane
and
Michael Fassbender as Commander Xerxises Cinaran

GUEST CAST
Joshua Shea as Charlie Cinaran
Sendhil Ramamurthy as Major Michael Hassani
Kelly Hu as Colonel Leila Mendoza
Nicole Kang as Ensign Min-Cho Ye
Paige Hurd as Lieutenant Tabitha Clarke

Description
Star Trek: Antares
Season One Episode Seven - “What Dreams Indeed...” - Part II

Written By Alex Matthews

Created by Jonathan Crosby-Bromley
and Alex Matthews

If I get any more of the cold shoulder, I'm gonna freeze to death...
Standing out of the way as much as possible, Cinaran felt very much alone on the command deck of the Endurance. He watched as the crew and technicians went about their jobs with calm military precision, a testament to their training. But there was little in the way of human interaction or camaraderie.
All because of his being there.
The Betazoid didn't need his telepathic senses to read the clear hostility many of the crew still felt regarding him. He could see it in their eyes whenever someone shot him a quick look, a sly peek out of the corner of their eye or just glared at him openly. No one had said a word to him, beyond Mendoza, and even she still kept her distance.
Not that he could blame her. He was an unknown quantity. Both he and Solan represented so much they didn't understand. But at least they were out of their cells and being treated like guests, not prisoners. Even if they still had a long way to go.
Speak of the devil... The familiar serenity of the Vulcan's mind touched at Cinaran's, and he turned towards the egress doors as they opened, admitting Solan and an escort. The science officer managed to suppress a wince at the clear evidence of the Vulcan's earlier mistreatment, taking solace in the fact that Solan was up and about.
But he couldn't help but gasp slightly as he felt the increase in negative emotions from the crew around them. They did their best to fight back at the sight of someone who looked so like the feared 'green-bloods', but it was a struggle for all of them. The silence in the command deck became even heavier and doom-laden. To the point that all the crew looked to their commanding officer at her post.
Unlike many starships, the Endurance command deck lacked a 'command chair', instead having a free-standing workstation on a raised dias. Like the rest of the command deck's control consoles, it used physical switches and toggles, but also incorporated several LCD screens for the ship's commander. It was with baited breath that everyone stopped what they were doing as Mendoza turned from her station to face Solan and Cinaran. Finally, she stepped down on to the deck proper, quickly closing the distance between herself and her guests with several strides.
"Commander Solan," she began, hands interlaced behind her back, the picture of parade rest, back straight and shoulder locked. "I offer my sincere apologies at the way you have been treated."
Cinaran did his best to hide his surprise. This was the last thing he expected to hear. But the truth was, Mendoza did feel guilt and was being utterly genuine with her words as she continued, "The crew take from my example, but I allowed a gross breach of acceptable behaviour by not putting a stop to the enhanced measures of your interrogation."
Solan remained silent. Not even cocking an eyebrow in his usual fashion, allowing the colonel to say what she needed to, "I hope that whatever future relations between our people, we can move forward from this?"
Finished, she offered a hand to the Vulcan. The old human gesture of a 'handshake'. Cinaran bit his lip in sudden anxiety at the diplomatic minefield that had just formed. Of course, Mendoza had no idea that Vulcans were touch-telepaths, so limited their physical contact with those not of their own species. Would Solan's rejection of the offered hand cause even more offence..?
But much to the Betazoid's stunned amazement, he watched as Solan clasped Mendoza's hand and gave it a vigorous pump. Well, I'll be damned..!
"It is my wish that we do indeed move forward as well, Colonel." Solan replied with typical stoic tone, but Cinaran could have sworn he heard - and felt - just a minor undercurrent of sincerity in the Vulcan's voice. "I hope that my time among your crew will allow you to see that Vulcans are of no threat to you, and we share little of our Romulan cousins prediliction for violence."
He released her hand, with Mendoza offered a brief but affirming nod of respect. Begrudging, yes, but respect all the same, "Me as well, Commander." She cleared her throat, as Cinaran felt the momentary surge of relief at receiving Solan's forgiveness, how it helped ease her shame. She stood that little bit straighter, as she turned and headed back to her station, gesturing for them both to follow.
As they flanked her, Cinaran could feel the tension of the crew lifting, the air feeling lighter now as the crew reacted to the actions and words of their commander. Maybe there is hope yet...
"We're still in orbit of the fourth planet," Mendoza briefed them. "Hopefully, once the Antares gets her and we compared notes, between our two ships, we can figure out just where the Romulans might be hiding out." She looked to Cinaran himself, "Any suggestions on how to enhance our scanners would be welcome."
Feeling a familiar thrill, and after getting a nod of approval from Solan, Cinaran nodded, "I can take a look, sure." He quickly realized he had no actual idea just what kind of systems the Endurance actually sported, "But I can't make any promises until I take a look at your hardware and operating system."
Mendoza waved one of the techs over, who then lead Cinaran back to an out of the way work-station. Thankfully, the control readouts were easily enough understood and controls clearly marked. However, it was pretty clear that the people of New Jamestown had prioritized strength and power over scientific curiosity and a desire for knowledge - the scanning systems were more on par with old Earth Starfleet designs.
Still, Cinaran couldn't fault them their belief - if Betazed had been at the mercy of aggressive aliens during their first steps into outer space, they might too have gone down the path of 'might is right'.
As he worked with the tech, whose own nerves at working with 'an alien' were slowly easing, Cinaran easily came to grips with it. They've got the tech and capability, he soon realized with relief, they've just never had the need to use it beyond what it can normally do.
Let's see if I can change that...

* * *

The brainstorming session had been eventful, to say the least. With both Hassani and th'Dane invited, the two of them had offered opinions and suggestions that perhaps the senior officers of the Antares might not have thought of. Including Maggie Campbell had added another wild-card to the discussions, but Tel knew that behind the snark and quips, Maggie was one of the best 'out-of-the-box' thinkers around.
In their short time together in the conference room, they'd managed to understand and clarify several important points. The Winds of Andoria had flaunted Federation shipping statutes by deviating from their filed flight plan and cutting across a large swath of the Expanse. A 'short-cut', th'Dane had embarrassingly explained to the group, that his skipper had been using for years, despite Starfleet declaring the Expanse off-limits to all civilian vessels operating in the region.
Given the fact that the Winds had apparently been using this illegal route for a while, it stood to reason that the Romulans had only recently moved into the Expanse. Otherwise, the Winds may very well have met it's destruction long before now. If the Romulans were operating in the Expanse under such secrecy, it also seemed logical that they would only have destroyed the Winds because they believed the freighter had come across something it shouldn't have.
"Our sensors weren't the best," th'Dane had explained, "but we picked up some kind of weird subspace..." He'd paused, seemingly struggling for the right word before shrugging in defeat, "a 'wobble', I guess you could call it, when we had to slow to impulse when this high-energy ion storm caught us by surprise."
A 'wobble'? Tel was no science officer, but both Reese and Clarke had agreed with her that it could have been a distortion as a result of the ions interacting with a cloaking field. If the Winds had inadvertently picked up a Romulan ship, it may very well have felt that the Winds could compromise both the ship they spotted and what it represented.
Like the possible location of wherever the Romulans had set up a forward operating base.
They were too far away from Star Empire space for casual back-and-forth, especially given how many Federation outposts monitored Romulan space. Each equipped with the latest in counter-cloak technology and advanced sensors arrays designed exclusively to watch out for any possible breaches.
The Winds of Andoria had been half-way through its 'short-cut' when the Romulans had attacked, pushing them further into the Expanse, coralling them to System Q-241. Somewhere out of the way for the ship to crash, out of sight and out of mind. Another casualty of the mystery of the Typhon Expanse. It was pure luck the Antares was even in the region close enough to pick up their distress call, to scan the site of attack soon enough to still find evidence of Romulan weapons.
But the Antares was not a ship of the line. Not a combat vessel, at least not one that could go toe-to-toe with a Romulan cruiser. They'd had 40 years to improve their technology away from the prying eyes of the rest of the galaxy.
Tel had no desire to take a ship full of children into combat against an enemy with who-knew-how-many unknown technological enhancements.
It all came down to the fact that the Antares was undermanned and ill-equipped for the sudden course-change in their assignment. But they were the only Starfleet vessel operating within range of these goings-on, so they had a duty to do what they could. For now. Even if Tel didn't already think that, the brief communique she'd received from DS4 before the meeting had given her little choice. Her orders were to investigate any Romulan presence within the Expanse and report back, while awaiting tactical support.
With that in mind, as the rest of the staff took their leave for some needed down-time, Tel spoke up, "Mr th'Dane, please stay. I'd like a word."
The Andorian, looking decidedly nervous, slowly retook him seat. Maggie Campbell also remained in her seat to Tel's right, toying with a PADD. The C.M.O., as Reese had done when asked her opinion, had voiced her concerns regarding what Tel was about to ask of the young man, so soon after surviving a crash-landing and loosing his crew.
"You can't expect anyone to want to jump back in the saddle this fast, Hel," she had brusquely pointed out in her way. "Even if he wasn't recovering from the physical trauma, he's still processing the emotional effects."
Tel, though, had convinced her that this would be the best way to help the th'Dane heal and move on from his experiences. To help begin the healing process. By being the support system he needed, just like she'd heard Dayan reminded him of.
"If this is about the Winds violating statutes," th'Dane began, wringing his hands, solitary antenna twitching with anxious energy, "I know I should have noted an official objection the first time I found out they--"
Tel quickly waved away the young man's worries, "What's done is done, Mr. th'Dane." She offered a supportive smile, "I'd rather talk about your future."
She could see his growing puzzlement and confusion, so she continued, making a point to project a business-like, harsh manner, "Let me be perfectly blunt, Mr. th'Dane. The Antares is in hostile territory with an inexperienced crew. I have no desire to take this ship into battle again, but it may very well happen, so I need all the able bodies I can get."
Understanding seemed to light up the Andorian's eyes as she carried on, "Now, under Starfleet regulations, I have the right to reactivate your commission and put you to work." She then softened her tone, dropping her charade, "But I would much rather have you work with me, not for me. The truth is, I need you on my bridge. So, I'd like to ask you to allow me to temporarily reactivate your commission, and once this situation is dealt with, I will happily drop you back at DS4. Free from any further obligation to Starfleet."
She ignored the pointed look she could see Maggie shooting at her. Yes, she was aware of the fact that the Antares might not make it back to port in one piece. All too aware, in fact. But she wanted - needed - to believe and hope they would. "However, if you don't feel that--"
"I accept." The reply was so matter-of-fact that Tel almost didn't register it. She could see her own surprise mirrored in Maggie's stunned look. "I would be proud to serve on this ship, Captain Tel."
That was easier then I expected... Still, she not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth in these strenuous times, "Very well then."
She stood, offering her hand to th'Dane, who shook it eagerly, "Thank you, Captain."
"Welcome aboard the Antares, Ensign th'Dane."

* * *

Huh, Reese mused privately as she looked up to see who was entering the bridge from the opening port-side entrance. Guess he said yes after all...
When Captain Tel had outlined her plan to recruit Olishnavar th'Dane, Reese had made her doubts clear that he would agree to her suggestion. It wasn't that she had anything against the young man - in fact, she liked him a whole lot. He'd met her earlier challenges to his recounting of the attack on the Winds of Andoria with confidence and determination. Even before that, the acting First Officer had been impressed with th'Dane's attempt to convince the away team to leave him behind to secure their own safety.
But that didn't change the fact that, despite impressive credentials, he'd been out of Starfleet a good few years. Not to mention that he was still recovering from a near-death crash landing and the associated wounds and injuries he'd sustained as a result. In her current capacity as a sounding-board to her commanding officer, Reese would have been remiss in her duties to not point these out.
Still, Reese couldn't help but smile at the sight of the clearly-nervous Andorian smoothing down his standard-issue mustard/gold operations division uniform. Combadge in place, with the lone rank pip denoting his rank as Ensign. The picture-perfect image of a well-turned out Starfleet officer. He met the curious glances his way without batting an eye-lid, but Reese saw the almost imperceptible twitch of his intact antenna as he walked the deck.
It was Tel who brought the odd silence that had followed th'Dane's arrival on the bridge to an end as she stood from her chair and approached him. Giving him an appraising look, before offering a grin, "I see you found your way to the quartermaster's office, Ensign."
"A tighter fit then I remember, ma'am," th'Dane quipped, a slight tremble in his voice the only other indication of whatever nervses or anxiety he was dealing with. Reese couldn't help but be impressed with him. Despite everything, th'Dane was facing his trauma head-on and not sitting out on the sidelines. "But I'll get used to it."
Tel's grin broadened, "Take your station, Mr. th'Dane."
He offered a brisk nod, before moving down to the lower level and taking the navigation position, having been vacating by Petty Officer Kirchaal only moments before. The enlisted Rigellian was an able member of the crew, but she herself had been more then ready to admit that she lacked the training or experience that th'Dane had. Kirchaal would be better put to use assisting the other engineering personnel with all the repairs still needing to be tended to.
Reese wasn't a big fan of the idea of taking the Antares back to the site of battle, at barely half-strength, even if they were 'all friends now' with Hassani's people. She had never been one to let go of a grudge easily, and being shot at tended to piss her off remarkably effectively. Not to mention the fact that both Xerx and Solan were still in their custody. The Betazoid's oblique reference to having 'issues' had left her worried for the both of them, but more for Solan in particular.
But Reese was also a pragmatist and understood the need to compare notes with the only other people who had any idea that Romulans had been skulking about the Typhon Expanse.
I just hope the captain's faith in Hassani isn't misplaced...
It was with those kinds of concerned thoughts running through her head that Reese spent the next few minutes. She managed to distract herself from worrying by focusing on her duties, checking several diagnostics she was running on various tactical systems. Pleased to see that all the shield generators were operating back up to 90% efficiency, but not happy that several torpedo launching subroutines were still glitching thanks to power surges through the EPS relays.
Dayan's clipped British tones brought her back to the present, "Approaching System Q-241."
"Slow to impulse, Lieutenant," Tel ordered crisply. Reese noted how she leaned forward just a little in her command chair. Was is excitement or trepidation that made her do it. Not for the first time, Reese wished she had at least a modicum of Xerx's Betazoid gifts. "Anything on sensors?"
While Clarke ran a series of scans, Reese brought up her own sensor feed as the young science officer replied. "I'm picking up the Endurance near the fourth planet, Captain," she explained, sounding almost bewildered, "But, ma'am, I'm also picking up something very weird."
Yeah, that's one word for it. Reese frowned at what she was seeing, barely making any heads or tails of it, despite the computer's assistance. Even when Clarke elaborated, Reese still felt clueless, "There is some kind of strange gravimetric disturbance surrounding the Endurance. Gravity in the immediate area around the ship is undergoing constant shifts."
In contrast to everyone else, when Hassani spoke up, he sounded nonchalant, "There's no need to worry." He met both Tel's questioning look, as well as Reese's own rather waspish glare, with an annoying hint of amusement, "They're just purging the gravitic fold generator."
Despite her annoyance at Hassani's blase attitude, Reese was satisfied to finally learn the name of the so-called 'big gun' Captain Tel's after-action report on the engagement with the Endurance had mentioned. "That's the gravity weapon you used before?"
Hassani nodded sagely, "Yes. Something we developed from the original artificial gravity research being done on S.O.R.A. With Liirani tech, we were able to weaponize it." He shrugged carelessly, "But the excess gravitons can cause localized sensor interference, so every so often it has to be shut down while the scanners are recalibrated."
"That would explain the gravitic anomalies," Clarke agreed, but then pointed to a display, "But there's also several unusual subspace wakes passing through the graviton field."
Hassani's frown did not sit well with Reese, "That's not a normal by-product. The engines are shut down during a purge, and flight operations are cancelled to avoid accidents."
"Captain..?" Something in th'Dane's tone made the hair on the back of Reese's neck stand on end. It was not a good feeling.
She looked to the Andorian as he stared at his navigational readouts, "I recognize the subspace signature of those wakes." He turned to face Tel, eyes wide with realization and dread, "They all almost near enough match the 'wobble' we picked up on the Winds..."
The rest of the sentence went unsaid, but Reese got the idea - 'right before the Romulans attacked'...

* * *

Around the Endurance, space was twisted and distorted. But now, several distinct areas began to solidify, transforming into sleek, avian-like shapes.
Within seconds, those four areas fully faded into view with a deliberate, tauntingly-slow pace. Each with forward-swept wings that arched out and tapered off into a powerful looking nacelle. The fore of the vessels narrowed into a vicious point that housed glowing weapons emplacements...

* * *

Oh, shit...
It was all hands on deck on the Endurance's command center. They were practically flying blind, while the scanner arrays were brought back on-line frustratingly slow. Crewmen and techs ran between consoles, passing orders and confirming vessel status as battle alarms echoed so loud that the deckplates under Cinaran's feet felt like they were reverberating.
The Betazoid stood at one of the anciliiary bulkhead consoles under the large forward viewscreen. Desperately trying to coax just a little more data out of systems that were outdated at least two decades compared to the Antares. But I'm not on the Antares, more's the pity, so I have to work with what I've got...
"We've got four Romulan birds-of-prey taking positions all around us!" He had to yell to be heard above the din of both alert sirens and panicked crew. Although the design of the ships was completely new to him, the classic design architecture and general power signatures gave away their identity. Not to mention the raptor imagery emblazoned on the vessel's dorsal hull, displayed with intent as they soared past and around the stationary Endurance.
He looked over to where Solan stood with Mendoza at the later's command console. "We should attempt to communicate with them," offered the Vulcan.
Mendoza pursed her lips, disgust coming off her in waves. She hated the very idea of being at the mercy of 'green-bloods'. Cinaran was impressed when he felt her push her instinctive reactions down, as she shook her head, "We're still comm-blind because of the purge."
"Then I suggest we 'sit tight'," Solan responded. "Perhaps they have no desire to engage in hosilities unless provoked?"
How on Earth did the Winds of Andoria 'provoke' them, Cinaran mused with distaste. A Monarch-class freighter was no kind of opponent, but Romulans had chased it down and destroyed it. Still, he held his tongue, knowing that Solan was right to try to urge a peaceful resolution to this stand-off.
However, any hopes for that option went out the window when he notes the sudden build-up in the forward weapons array in the closest ship, "They're firing!"
The disruptor blast slammed into the Endurance, sending the crew of the command deck flying. The reinforced armor that covered the ship absorbed the worst of it, but damage-control alarms still went off on multiple panels and displays across the compartment.
"I think that answers your question, Commander!" Mendoza spat, as she gripped tightly onto her console to avoid being thrown to the deck by the ship's wild bucking.
"Indeed." His reply, delivered with typical Vulcan stoicism, seemed so at odds with the current situation that Cinaran very nearly gave in to an almost insane urge to laugh. By sheer force of will, he didn't.
"All crew, bring the ship to attack posture," Mendoza called out, focusing on the battle her ship was now pulled in to. "Bring weapons batteries on line, and prep the grav-generator for immediate discharge as soon as the coils are clear!"
Cinaran backed off, moving out of the way of the personnel moving all around him. He wasn't the least bit familiar with their battle protocols and would end up being more of a hindrance then anything. The best place for him was at Solan's side, keeping out from underfoot as the Endurance crew went to work.
He hated it. He wasn't a soldier, a warrior. But he didn't like standing on the side-lines while others fought to keep themselves and others alive.
However, this wasn't his ship. His crew. All he could do was wait it out. To render aid and assistance if and when it was called for. For now, his fate was in the hands of people he barely knew and still wasn't sure he could trust.
Not like I have a whole lot of choice, though...

* * *

"Red Alert. All hands to battle stations."
Tel's voice was calm and controlled, but with a tense undercurrent as she gave the order and sat up straight in her seat. Her eyes were fixed on the sight of the Endurance being absolutely pummelled by disruptor blasts from the attacking Romulan cruisers. Birds-of-prey, by the size and look of the design, Reese hypothesised, but not a class I recognize.
The bridge lights dimmed as the alert lighting kicked in. The klaxons sounded several times as Ensign Ye relayed the order called the crew to their posts. Acting on instinct borne from years of training, Reese brought all weapons systems to full readiness without waiting for any official orders. They were on-line within seconds, as all shield generators went into active mode and surrounded the Antares in their protective bubble.
"Shields up, all phaser banks online, torpedo launchers loaded," she reported crisply as everyone else on the bridge went about their tasks. Dayan and th'Dane had their heads lowered, conferring in quiet whispers, while Ye continued collating deck readiness reports. Reese couldn't help but feel sorry for them - out of all of them, she was the only one to see full-on combat prior to their time in the Expanse.
I wonder how many of them will live to see more..?
The thought came unbidden, and Reese quickly quashed it. Now was not the time to be thinking along those lines. Instead, she needed to her head in the game. Although she was no stranger to ship-to-ship combat, she didn't know the Antares's tactical profile as well as she'd like. That was not been her main priority when she'd been prepping for this assignment. I was supposed to be a teacher, not a tactical officer...
The last time Antares had gone into battle, for however brief a time under misunderstood circumstances, she had not been on-board. This would be her first outing handling the Miranda-class starship's weapons. She didn't doubt her own skills, though, or her experiences throughout her career. Despite the off-ramp her career might have taken to become a member of faculty at the Academy, she was a fighter first and foremost.
She would do whatever it took to keep her crew safe.
With a brief glance, Reese also made a note of the fact that Hassani had barely moved. His gaze still on the screen, taking in the image of his ship buckling under the constant Romulan barrage. Despite her justifiable animosity towards him, she felt a twinge of sympathy for the man - cut off from his people, forced to stand by idly as they fought hard, unable to do anything to assist. A feeling she had been all too familiar with when she'd been stuck on the planet the Endurance still orbitted.
[Engine Room to Bridge!] Mitchell Hanover's perturbed voice cut through the near-silence of the bridge that had settled over the bridge since the alert klaxons had been silenced. [Are you freaking serious with this Red Alert crap?!]
Reese couldn't fault the chief gineer. Once again, the Antares was about to enter the fray of battle. The wounds still fresh from their earlier scuffle. Hanover and her team of techs, interns and cadets - including Charlie - had barely stopped since the Antares had warped away from this very system not too long ago. Still, it was hard to not wince a little as the engineer continued on, [We've only just gotten most of our damaged systems back up and running again!]
The captain's reply was collected and level, not rising to her chief engineer's ire, "It can't be helped, Chief. I know we're not in top fighting shape, but we've got Romulans dead ahead, and the Endurance is no match for them on their own."
Hanover sounded somewhat mollified as she responded after a moment's aggrieved silence, [Fine. I'll do what I can to keep this bucket of bolts together. But we're not going to last too long in a fire-fight ourselves, Cap.]
"Understood. Bridge out." Tel cut the channel with a stab of her finger on her armrest controls.
It was like the entire bridge crew was holding their breath. Even Hassani broke his gaze away from the screen to look to Tel, who remained unmoving in her chair.
Finally, she looked over her shoulder to Reese herself. Locked eyes with her. Her gaze questioning. Needing reassurance.
The acting First Officer offered a small nod of acknowledgement. Confirmation that she was making the right decision. The only decision. No matter what, Starfleet did not just walk away from a situation like this.
They would not leave anyone to the mercy of the Romulans.
With the barest hint of a grateful smile, Tel then faced forward again. Hands gripping her armrest with a white-knuckle grip as she spoke the words they were all waiting for.
"Helm. Take us in."

---------------------------------------------
To Be Concluded in
EPISODE 8: "A DOUBLE-EDGED SWORD"
---------------------------------------------

CAST
Vicky McClure as Lieutenant Daniela Reese
with
Marcia Cross as Captain Helena Tel
Steven R. McQueen as Commander Solan
Indira Varma as Commander (Dr.) Maggie Campbell
Hannah John-Kamen as Lieutenant Mitchell Hanover
Kit Harrington as Lieutenant Eitan Dayan
Freddie Fox as Olishnavar ‘Oli’ th'Dane
and
Michael Fassbender as Commander Xerxises Cinaran

GUEST CAST
Joshua Shea as Charlie Cinaran
Sendhil Ramamurthy as Major Michael Hassani
Kelly Hu as Colonel Leila Mendoza
Nicole Kang as Ensign Min-Cho Ye
Paige Hurd as Lieutenant Tabitha Clarke