This is not my fic. I'm posting it because my friend, drawingblade, is too lazy to do it himself, and it provides background for Dan Holmes who co-stars in my DS9 fic. Thanks for reading, and please review! Reviews are love, and drawingblade and I absolutely adore them! :D

Enjoy!~


Cadet Daniel Holmes gave a weary sigh. Academy work was so boring these days.

One taste of space, and San Francisco's lost its charm, he thought with a sigh. Sitting in his sparsely-furnished studio apartment, Holmes stood up and strode to the window, stepping over a pile of old-fashioned paper books; it was an eccentricity of his that made most of those he'd had over to visit roll their eyes. Data padds were so much more efficient. You didn't need a bookmark, or to even search for a specific paragraph. All this before getting to the fact that a single padd could hold over a teraquad of data. But there was something about the feel of a book that added to the rich tales told within.

A fantastic view greeted him from the outside of the bay window. A beautiful mixture of technology and nature. The Golden Gate Bridge wasn't in his line of view, but it still stood, even in the 23rd century, it's arches gleaming proudly. The city had been modernized. The best part of that was that the once smog-laden city now had a clean atmosphere, making breathing and admiring the view much easier.

There was the Starfleet Academy campus, just a short walk away. It was the crown jewel of Starfleet, discounting its impressive array of starships, of course.

Suppressing another sigh, Holmes turned his back on the window, looking at his uniform, folded neatly over a chair. Most cadets just threw their uniforms on the ground and simply replicated a new one. Holmes, however, felt the uniform was like a black belt in the martial arts he had been taking for years- it was part of your 'identity', and it should be treated as well as you'd treat yourself.

Wish I got to wear it more often. Just that one short hop. It was only a quick slingshot trip around Mars to repair that shuttle, but man…I'd give anything to be back in space.

The sound of his communications equipment chirped in a frequency that he didn't know. It wasn't the academy, or a classmate calling. It wasn't his parents, either, and he had no girlfriend. So who?

"This is Holmes," he answered crisply. The screen on his desk made another chirp sound, and an image flashed up. It was an Admiral! Immediately, Holmes stood on ceremony.

"At ease, Cadet. I am Admiral Collins, overseer of a new operation of Starfleet."

"Yes, sir. What can I do for you?"

The Admiral had a crop of thick, black hair on his head, gelled into a severe-looking shape that belied it's density. He was definitely a new admiral- most of them were older, easily graying and exuded a regal air. This one hadn't quite mastered that yet. He seemed more like a very uptight Captain, as though he wasn't satisfied just sitting in a chair; his space exploration days were still fresh in his mind.

"Let me cut to the chase, Holmes. Your academy grades aren't stellar. However, your actions in your last mission lead us to believe you are capable of a great deal, given the opportunity."

Holmes didn't say anything. He couldn't acknowledge the compliment yet- he sensed a 'but' coming.

"We want to assign you to a science vessel as Chief Tactical Officer."

Holmes' heart leapt into his throat. The Admiral apparently understood, and he kindly kept talking to give Holmes time to get his bearings.

"This is an ideal mission for you. You'll serve as a bridge officer. As a science vessel, you'll see action at an acceptable pace, so you shouldn't be overwhelmed. The experience will do you good, should you choose to accept."

This was the pause that Holmes had been waiting for. This was where he was to interject with his answer. It took him a heartbeat's time to respond:

"I gratefully accept the position, sir. I thank Starfleet for its consideration."

The Admiral nodded. "Then pack your bags. Report to shuttle bay B-14 at 0600 tomorrow. Your ship is the USS Guardian, NCC 77430 and your commanding officer is Captain Charles Stevens."

"Understood."

With that, the Admiral was gone. Holmes stayed in his formal pose, as if to make sure the Admiral didn't come back and catch him relaxing. Finally, he allowed himself a grin.

Finally! Back to space, and out of this apartment! I can't wait!

-VVV-

The next morning, at 0400, Holmes was already at the shuttle bay. He couldn't sleep, and it was too early to call anyone, so he figured he might as well go wait at the shuttle bay.

After an hour had passed, Holmes had flipped through all the magazines in the place. To be accurate, he had read every padd he could find. Magazines had been outdated for quite some time. Holmes could remember his Father's collection of magazines on space and something called 'video games'. Holmes learned that video games were outdated by the holoboothes that played interactive simulations of various time periods, games, and other distractions. He was in love with the concept.

At 0530, someone where a Starfleet uniform approached Holmes. He immediately stood, assuming that this person was of a higher rank than he was.

"Cadet Holmes?"

The voice belonged to a female. Holmes' breath exited in a short gasp.

Sh-she's beautiful! I've never seen a girl like this!

"Y-yes, that's me," he stammered, straightening his uniform impulsively.

The girl smiled understandingly, unknowingly making Holmes more nervous. She had dark eyes and long, shiny black hair. The Starfleet uniform's weren't meant to flatter figures (but they did hide some spare tires that the older captains seemed to grow), but they outlined this girl's shapely frame beautifully.

No girl has ever turned my head like this! I've never seen…wow.

The girl was checking a padd that contained a charter for the shuttles that were leaving and entering. Good luck for Holmes- she didn't notice him trying to pop his eyeballs back into place. So THIS is what it was like to look up from a book!

"Okay, Cadet Holmes. You are bound for the USS Guardian, correct?"

"Yes, sir," Holmes managed to say coherently. The girl gave him another heart-stopping smile.

"At ease. No need to stand on ceremony. My name is Ensign Danielle Kitamura. I'll be flying you to your ship. Rather, our ship. I'm on the duty roster as well. In fact…wait, wait…you look familiar. Ah! I think we went to Starfleet Academy together!"

Holmes couldn't believe it. How would I have missed this?

"Yeah, that's it! We had Physics together. With that Captain…oh, what was his name…"

"Oh, that…Cardassian? Was he Cardassian? I could never tell. I couldn't pronounce his name, either. Too many consonants in a row. Phkl…something."

The Ensign giggled. "Yeah, that's the one! I remember- you sat in front, and actually paid attention."

Holmes chuckled in return. "Oh, it was that obvious? I had to concentrate just to understand him, never mind absorb the material."

I'm hitting it off with this girl! I've never dated before. I'm pretty sure I want to ask her out, too… Well, we'll be serving together. No need to rush things.

The Ensign checked one of the clocks that displayed earth hours. There were others that converted time into Klingon, Vulcan, and other measurements of time. The bustling hub that was a shuttle bay waiting area had many visitors of all races. The delicate balance that kept alliances steady needed all the help it could get to stay strong. Even something as simple as a clock that you could read could help in that respect.

"We'd better get moving. Don't want to be late, right? Since it's just you and I, we can get going straight away."

"Oh! Yes, you're right."

I'm going to be riding alone, in a shuttlecraft, with this girl? This is great! Oh damn, I'm way too girl shy for a guy my age! I've just got to calm down and think about how to talk to her. Stay sharp, Holmes. This 'mission' will probably be the hardest one you'll have this tour of duty.

The shuttle was small; meant to hold maybe five and the pilot. It had comfortable seating that were like blue couches around the sides of the bulkheads and hull and a table in the center with a replicator built into the bottom of it.

"I never caught your first name," Ensign Kitamura called from the cockpit.

"Sorry, I forgot to throw it," Holmes replied, grinning sheepishly. He climbed up to the cockpit. "I'm Dan."

The Ensign raised an amused eyebrow and favored the young cadet with a half-grin. "You're not trying to be cute, are you?"

Holmes didn't get what she meant, and he said so.

"The names. I'm 'Danielle', you're 'Dan'."

"I hadn't thought about that. But…yeah. No, I'm not trying to be cute; it's my real name. Small world, huh?"

"It certainly is," the Ensign said. Her voice held a note of disinterest now, though, where before she had been friendlier and open to conversation. Holmes winced inwardly, but kept his face free of expression. He sat down in the back.

Now where did I blow it? Is it my name she didn't like? Or…'Small world'?. Oh, smooth, Dan! That's the worst pickup line I've ever heard! Why'd I say something like that?

Holmes found that he really wanted this girl to like him, and the thought that he had disappointed her was awful. True to his nature, he gave in to depression. But then his mind fed him a little ray of hope:

We're serving together for at least a few months. I've got time to reconcile my mistake.

"There it is. The USS Guardian!"

The ensign suddenly sounded as though she was in awe. As Holmes looked on the view screen, he found he was in awe, too.

The ship had adopted the saucer design of the later Enterprise series. Families would stay together on this ship, hence the huge saucer. There were two warp nacelles, but in contrast to the Enterprise, they weren't extended out from the ship. Rather, they were in tighter to the hull, extending past the back end. The hull itself was elongated and narrow. It actually looked like a science vessel, if such a perception was possible.

"It's similar to a Vulcan design, save for the saucer," Holmes began, talking in autopilot. Now they were in a subject area he was familiar with. "Updated defense system…bio-tech containment cells, wide-angle transporter…I had no idea a science vessel could be so fascinating!"

The female ensign next to him smiled a little, but still seemed a little cool toward Holmes.

"USS Guardian, this is Ensign Kitamura. Requesting permission to dock in shuttle bay A-1."

"We're receiving you, shuttle 14-B. Prepare for docking procedures; commence when ready," came a cool, emotionless female voice from the other side of the comm system. Holmes wondered how they managed to find just this type of voice for this kind of job.

"Understood. Shuttle out."

Holmes watched as the ensign landed the ship manually. He grabbed onto an armrest, but she touched the shuttle down perfectly, with only a little bump as the inertial dampers adjusted.

Holmes knew he had to say something now if he was to have any kind of relationship with this girl. So he sucked in his breath and spat out the most obvious compliment he could think of- one that couldn't be taken any other way but positively.

"That was a very smooth landing, Ensign. Especially for doing it manually. Are you taking the helm for this tour?"

The Ensign didn't smile, but she seemed a little warmer. Or at least Holmes forced himself to believe so.

"I am, yes."

Holmes smiled. "It's corny, I guess, but I could swear that you didn't need the inertial dampering system at all."

The Ensign blushed a little at the compliment. She stood up and walked by Holmes. Her shoulder bumped him, just a little.

"…I'll look forward to seeing what you can do…Cadet."

Holmes stood up a little straighter- that was a slightly sultry tone if he'd ever heard one. Not that he'd had, except in movies. She was probably just playing with him. Holmes could swear girls could see right through guys. Especially girl-shy ones. Kind of like how a cat will always latch onto the one that's allergic to him, though the company of a female was decidedly more pleasant. Irrelevant thoughts aside, this tour of duty was looking better and better.

Holmes watched the pretty young Ensign exit the shuttlecraft.

Definitely looking better.

-VVV-

First stop was sickbay. All crew must undergo a physical examination upon boarding and before beginning active duty. Holmes couldn't remember the regulation number for that, but it was on top of the list of things his professors had drilled into him. Holmes had taken the command track set of courses, focusing on tactical analysis and theory after a brief tete' a tete'with piloting. He was good, but not the top of the class. His aim with a phaser was much better than his ability to navigate. Holmes had the sense of direction of a brick, as one professor so kindly put it.

Sickbay was large; there were nearly ten beds lined up. Holmes guessed that was due to the fact that infectious disease and bacteria was likely to be abundant. The place was high-tech and well-equipped as far as Holmes could tell. He was no medic, so he couldn't say for sure.

"Cadet Holmes reporting," he announced, holding a duffel bag adorned with the Starfleet insignia in his hand, awaiting instructions.

An older man wearing the black and blue jumpsuit of the medical corps instantly stood up from his desk. Putting down a padd, he walked over to Holmes and extended his hand.

"Dr. Frank Bradshaw." The old man's handshake was firm and rough; clearly he was old school when it came to introductions. Holmes knew enough to squeeze back with an equal amount of pressure, somehow showing gumption and a knowledge that was outdated these days. Nodding your head to acknowledge someone was more hygienic than the outdated handshake.

"Well then, Cadet, let's get you checked out."

Holmes was thankful the doctor wasn't horribly old school. Disrobing for medical exams had gone by the wayside, too. Mercifully.

Captain Charles Stevens admired his new command from his command chair. As a science vessel, most of the ship had been laden down with- dare he even think it- stuffy, boring scientists, and the most Vulcans he had ever seen. It made for an almost arrogant air aboard the ship, and he certainly didn't like that very much. Arrogance tended to be catchy.

The conn and tactical stations were below him, toward the front of the circular room. The command chair was elevated on a small platform. Above that platform, accessible by a ramp, was the enlarged science station and Ops.

The command chair was black and some leather-like material that probably had a scientific name- no doubt some crewman would comment on it. The other chairs were of a slightly lighter gray color. The dark red carpeting on the floor coupled with the shiny metal railings and bulkheads made the place feel very big, open, and sterile. Almost without character.

I guess that will be supplied by my crew, Stevens thought. His First Officer had been assigned to him, further making this ship and it's mission feel impersonal.

The turbolift doors swished open. It was the aforementioned First Officer. Stevens had to suppress a sound of shock.

A Talarian!

"Welcome aboard. You must be Mr. Ander."

Without thinking, the Captain extended his hand. The Talarian paid no mind; instead, he just bowed, making no contact with the captain. After that, Ander stalked over to the science station without a word.

Is he offended, or just a jerk?

Stevens wondered briefly. I've really drawn a lousy assignment. I wonder who I ticked off?

The turbolift doors opened again. This time, a young cadet entered. He was clearly a little nervous and very fascinated. His Starfleet-issue duffel bag was still across his shoulders. The captain could tell a raw recruit when he saw one. This kid had way too much enthusiasm. He hadn't even been to his quarters yet! Or he didn't know how to find them; one of the two.

"Welcome aboard. I'm Captain Charles Stevens."

The young man strode over to a polite distance and stood at attention.

"Cadet Daniel Holmes, Sir. I'm your new Tactical Officer. It's nice to meet you."

The Captain inclined his head, while the younger man extended his hand. They both withdrew their respective greetings, each suppressing a chuckle for a different reason.

"Well, it's good to have you aboard. I understand this is your first extended mission?"

"Yes, sir."

Stevens could appreciate the enthusiasm more, given that his XO was a complete jerk so far.

"I'll look forward to working with you. We'll be leaving as soon as the rest of the crew files in. In the mean time, I suggest finding your quarters and introducing yourself to the Commander."

Stevens tipped his head toward the Talarian. He watched Holmes approached the Talarian, waiting to see what he would do.

Holmes bowed- the correct course of action.

Stevens stifled a curse. This was why he hated kids these days. You used to goof off in the academy. Clearly this one didn't- he was a 'by the book' type who not only needed rules but liked them. Stevens just hoped he could think outside the box, unlike most 'brainwashed' students.

A third time the turbolift doors opened. This time, a pretty young human female entered, looking a little more confident than Holmes.

"Ensign Danielle Kitamura," the girl told him crisply, offering her hand. Out of the corner of his eye, Stevens saw Holmes perk up.

Oh-ho! We've already got a bit of romance going on? Wonder if they know each other, or if he's just interested. Ah well. Good for them. Kids should make memories. If I was ten years younger…fifteen maybe…

Aloud, the Captain said:

"Ah, yes. My new Helmsman. You come highly recommended from your instructors. It seems you could have also been a medical officer, or even a tactical officer, given your proficiency tests."

The Ensign shrugged a little, matching the informal tone of the conversation. "Piloting a starship was always a dream of mine. I'm happy to see it realized."

Holmes took his place at the Tactical station, making himself familiar with the weapons of the ship. As a science vessel, it wasn't exactly armed to the proverbial teeth.

One phaser bank on each side of the ship…photon torpedoes…only 32? Disruptor torpedoes…12...Huh. We can't form any from our fusion generators, or something? I'm no tech, but this seems…incredibly outdated. Shields are a priority; these are some of the strongest I've seen. Wonder what our maximum speed is…

Holmes looked over toward the conn, considering asking Danielle…er, Ensign Kitamura about the top speed, just to make conversation. But he chickened out, instead looking it up on his computer terminal.

A maximum warp of…3? In this day and age? I could get out and free-float faster! Stupid speed limit.

Holmes thought sardonically, trying to remember how it was that warp engines destabilized space. He knew that the latest ships had been equipped with variable geometry pylons, which someone got around the damage to subspace. Why not put it on this science vessel? Glancing back at the shields specs, Holmes train of thought re-aligned. I guess we're supposed to hold out and call for help. The shields must be to prevent our experiments from getting damaged. Or maybe this is one of those 'learner ships' Starfleet was going to experiment with? Kind of like it has training wheels so we don't go flying into the sun at warp 9 or something?

Holmes put his mind into figuring out how to make alternate weapons. He had a few ideas, but would need to talk to some engineer or tech to make it work. But he felt sure he'd be hard-pressed to find someone as cautious as he was.

The one thing I learned about scientists…they'll always put their work above their safety. Rather, EVERYONE'S safety. So I've got to babysit a bunch of brains with the social skills of protozoa with weapons that were inadequate in any part of the galaxy thirty years ago.

This is the chemical formula for disaster, I think.

Holmes had made his rounds on the Guardian, finding things to be just as he assumed. Air-headed geniuses. What a combination. Mix in a little arrogance to a 'mere tactical officer', as one so eloquently put it, and you had an irritated Holmes trying not to fire off a round or two at these idiots with his fist.

Frustrated after his shift, he aimed himself at the dining area. When the doors swished open, Holmes could swear he felt the hot air of hostility.

There were cliques of multi-raced scientists everywhere. Vulcans made up one area by themselves, either not talking or discussing things in low tones. It sounded like a lot of numbers to Holmes.

Then there were a couple Betazoids with a variety of human-ish aliens, and a couple human scientists.

There were groups all over like that. They all seemed hostile toward each other. But they looked up at Holmes as one as he entered.

Nothing like the first day of school all over again. Where do I sit in the lunch room?

Holmes went over to the replicator, ignoring the stares. He was surprised when the replicator spoke to him in an alien language. He cursed at the scientist who was messing around with these things. But he decided to play a little trick back at the geniuses at play.

"Theris," he said cooly, in his best impression of Vulcan speech. The replicator whirred for a moment, but ultimately produced a cup of the Vulcan equivalent of tea. Holmes had developed a taste for it at the academy due to it's side-effect of being a stress-buster. His stomach always felt better after a warm glass of whatever kind of plants it is that Vulcans make tea from.

Choosing an empty table in the corner of the crowded room, Holmes took his beverage and sat down. He nodded cheerfully at everyone. In the end, only one person deigned to talk to him. To his surprise, it was a Vulcan. Holmes stood up and assumed a posture he had often seen the Vulcan instructors take up at the academy. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he nodded his head in a semi-bow before speaking. He skipped small talk (that had been Vulcan 101's first lesson- get to the point when speaking) and offered a greeting.

The Vulcan returned the posture and the greeting.

"I observed you enter, and I found myself quite impressed with how you handled the situation."

"I've been in a similar situation before. It's just like the first day of school."

"I am not sure I can appreciate your analogy…Vulcans tend to have a certain…acceptance…for our own kind."

"I see. Acceptance is a nice concept. I wish all species would observe such a courtesy." Holmes shifted slightly before he continued. "May I ask your name?"

"I am Tarek."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Dan Holmes."

"I am honored," the Vulcan replied. He inclined his head. "If you will excuse me, I must return to my comrades. We are in the process of working out a proposal to be submitted to the Science Officer."

"By all means. It was good talking with you," Holmes replied, keeping the sarcasm out of his voice. At least Tarek had been friendly enough.

The Vulcan nodded and left, returning to his spot. He resumed his place in the conversation as though he had never left. It made Holmes wonder just how powerful this 'acceptance' thing of theirs was.

As he watched the Vulcans, something else caught Holmes' eye. It was Ensign Kitamura, and she was having the same trouble with the replicator he was. Getting up, Holmes resolved to find someone to fix the damned thing before any more victims fell prey to the cruel joke.


"Damn it!" Danielle cursed, losing her composure slightly. It wasn't like her to lose her temper even for a moment, but this ship's unfriendly atmosphere was really taking it's toll on her. This was going to be a long, sour mission if things didn't improve.

We've barely left the station and I already feel like I'm going to crawl out of my skin. And now this damned replicator is acting up!

"Anything I can do to help?"

Danielle shot a glance sideways, finding Cadet Holmes standing at attention.

"At ease, Cadet. We're both off-duty, and I'm not your CO anyway."

"Right. My mistake," Holmes said, sounding a little taken aback. Danielle sighed and apologized.

"No, MY mistake. This irritating replicator…"

"Maybe I can help…"

"Not unless you speak Vulcan."

Holmes grinned a little. "Depends on what you want to order. I'm hardly fluent, but I managed to get tea out of it before."

"Let's see you produce soup. I don't even care what kind at this point."

Holmes nodded and spoke into the machine: "Shur."

Amazingly, the machine didn't ask for greater specification. Holmes guessed it produced some kind of Vulcan soup.

"I can't exactly guarantee the taste," Holmes said with a smirk. "If you-"

BOOM!

The ship rocked. Holmes and Danielle exchanged glances. They nodded at each other, silently agreeing to head for the bridge. Putting her soup down on the nearest table, Danielle followed Holmes from the room at a run.

The bridge was in disarray. Captain Stevens was trying to get his people under control. Unfortunately, almost everyone turned out to be a scientist. Stevens knew he was desperate when he saw his two new recruits enter and felt a wave of calm.

"Holmes, Kitamura- take your stations! You two, whoever the hell you are, get out of those chairs!"

Holmes nearly backhanded the obstinate alien sitting in his spot. The thing certainly seemed to take it's time getting out of the way. Holmes sat down before the seat was completely vacated.

"Weapons online! Shields at 80% and holding!" Holmes announced, his fingers dancing over his console gracefully.

Stevens sat down, finally feeling a measure of calm.

"Kitamura, evasive maneuvers. No set patterns; make it up. Holmes, fire at will. Lt…uh…Ops! What the hell IS that?"

"Unknown," came the reply. Stevens let out an audible curse. Do I really have to order you to find out?

"Hail them!"

"Channel open."

"This is Captain Stevens of the Starshi-"

BOOM! The ship was rocked from stem to stern yet again. Intertial dampers were certainly a wonderful thing at this point.

"No response," the Ops Lt said dryly, as though this was no more fascinating than watching paint dry.

Holmes was firing, but not getting anywhere. "Their shields are re-calibrated against phasers…firing photon torpedoes…hit to non-vital area…adjusting aim to compensate movement…"

The ship was rocked, and more violently than before. If Holmes hadn't been holding onto his console with a death grip, he would have been a big splatter on the view screen.

"Report!" Stevens demanded. No one seemed able to talk except the two in front of him.

"Shields at 50%. They've received no damage. I've targeted their weapons and engines thus far. They keep re-calibrating their shields to match me."

"Someone give me a damn suggestion!"

Holmes stood up and went to Ops. He glanced at the more in-depth diagnostic chart, nodding to himself.

"Captain, permission to transfer Ops readings to my console? I've got a potential solution."

Stevens gave a grim nod. "Explain while you do this."

As Holmes tapped furiously at the console, he laid out his plan. "None of our weapons has had an effect on their shields. It seems they've someone managed to align their shields to perfectly block each threat."

"How the hell can they do that? That requires impossible skill!"

"Or an incredible intelligence network," the Talarian XO added dryly. This was the first time the alien had spoken since this attack began. Stevens wondered who in the hell had commissioned this clown.

Holmes continued, apparently unfazed by the Captain losing it.

"Outside of conventional weaponry, we have an option. We need a burst from the main deflector dish. Coupled with immediate torpedo and phaser fire, it will generate a level 4 shockwave. At this distance, our shields would hover around 10%. But it should knock ALL their systems down, if only for a few seconds. That'll give me time to disable them, at the least."

Stevens was practically tearing his hair out. That was a solution that they mentioned at the academy. More accurately, the burst from the deflector dish. Coupled with those weapon strikes at precise intervals, it would indeed have the effect the cadet outlined. But still…

"Options?"

None.

"Any way to make this safer, Cadet? I don't want us damaged that badly."

"If we send out a distress signal…the nearest star ship is two hours away at their current speed. That's standard enough…if the helm can turn us a precise way and alert me in advance, I can set the shields at full strength in that position. That would leave us with roughly 20% shields. Maybe 25% if I 'layer' the shields."

Stevens sat down in his command chair and gripped it hard.

"Do it, Cadet. Conn, be ready to take us out of here. I want sickbay on standby!"

Holmes tapped his communicator and spoke a few words to Tarek in engineering. After a tense moment,

Tarek assured Holmes that the burst would be ready in three seconds.

"Fire when ready," Stevens said unnecessarily.

"Brace yourselves. This is gonna sting a little…Firing burst…"

The view screen was filled with a blue haze. A ribbon of energy was shooting toward the enemy ship.

"…Releasing torpdoes…calculating impact…"

The torpedoes glinted. They seemed to ride perfectly just behind the energy wave. The burst hit the enemy shields. They flickered for a second, but remained online. The shockwave was heading toward them…

"Their shields at 50% and holding…firing phasers…"

Holmes blasted his own torpedo, detonating the first one just as it struck the shield. The second torpedo rammed in right behind the first.

"Shockwave imminent…I've opened a small hole…the shockwave should open it…"

"Turning starboard…" Kitamura informed them all. The ship noticeably lurched right on cue.

"Aye, compensating…Shields in place and layered…Here it comes!"

The Guardian was rocked with the incredible blast of a level 4 shockwave. The Captain, Helm, and Tactical were the only three left conscious.

"We've got an opening! Firing phasers and photons!"

The phaser fire didn't damage the shields any more, but it held the shrinking opening in place long enough for two photon torpedoes to slip through.

"First hit…We've taken out their forward weapons! Second hit…Critical shot to their warp core!"

Holmes's face went sour almost immediately.

"Captain, we've gotta get out of here! They're going to have a warp core breach in thirty seconds!"

"Helm, any heading but here, maximum warp."

Kitamura looked up grimly. "Warp engines offline. Engineering estimates at least 1 minute until they'll be online again."

"Withdraw at maximum impulse; full reverse! Tactical, get me shields on that side! Drain any bit of power you need, but get me as close to full shields as possible."

"Aye, sir. Powering down weapons…rerouting auxiliary power…emergency power…Shields at 60% and holding."

"What kind of damage can we expect?" Stevens asked, not sure he really wanted to know. Seeing the Cadet's face, he was sure he didn't want to know.

"Surviving will be a miracle. Unless…unless we use the deflector dish again!"

Holmes tapped furiously on his console.

"Yes! Another burst will neutralize their shockwave! We'll suffer a level 1 shockwave and minor damage."

"There must be another solution!" the newly awakened Ops officer protested groggily, just now using his console to pull himself up from the carpeted deck.

"We've got no time, Captain," Holmes said bluntly.

"There's always time for science. A more intricate tactic might do more good."

Holmes leapt to his feet, an accusing hand extended toward the alien that was protesting. Losing composure for the first time in this crisis, he shouted:

"WHY DO WE NEED A MORE INTRICATE TACTIC? WE HAVE A SURE ANSWER! PLAY WITH YOUR DAMN FORMULAS WHEN LIVES AREN'T AT STAKE!"

"Do it! Cadet, your solution is our only option. Do it!"

What have I been doing? I lost control of my bridge. The helm and tactical have been the only two positions worth a damn. I'm betting on them. They've been doing their job like two senior officers who have worked together for years.

"Powering up the main deflector…five seconds until impact…releasing the burst…now!"

The alien ship exploded; a visible wave of energy was heading toward the Guardian. Another blue haze blocked the view screen; Stevens could just make out the two energy bursts meeting. They cancelled each other out for the most part. But that shockwave was still coming.

"Evasive maneuvers, Ensign Kitamura."

"Aye Sir. Warp engines will be online another twenty seconds."

Ensign Kitamura's hands flew over her console with a practiced ease. Aside from a little sweat on her face, you wouldn't know how nervous she was. She looked to Holmes unconsciously.

That poor guy…all this hinges on his idea. If it doesn't work, if we survive, he'll be the one in hot water.

Holmes was steadying himself for impact, but couldn't quite hide the worry on his face from Danielle's keen eye.

He's feeling it now. He seemed so confident, but now I can see that he was holding himself in check. Was it for the sake of the others? Or was it pride?

Holmes looked up and met Danielle's eyes. He smiled a little and rolled his eyes comically. That small gesture put them both a little more at ease. Being friends in this hostile environment had been a big help.

The shockwave hit, but it barely knocked the ship this time.

"Shields at 40% and holding…adjusting shields to their original settings…rerouting power…"

"Warp engines online. Thrusters at max."

Stevens sat back, feeling drained. He resolved to see these two promoted. While his scientists were reasoning with an irrational attack, these two had DONE something about it.

"Excellent work, helm; tactical. Ensign, take us out of here, maximum warp."

Kitamura moved to do just that. But her console emitted a bleep. It was the tell-tale 'no can do' sound on starships.

"Damn it! Sir, there's some kind of…suction. Something is pulling us off our original heading."

"Confirmed," Holmes added. "It seems to be a wormhole, sir. But there's a reading at the other end. I can't be interpreting this right!"

Stevens got up and peered over Holmes' shoulder. The light glow of the console outlined the muscles in the faces of the two men as their expressions become a mix of shock and horror.

"On the other side is the Delta Quadrant!"


Thanks for reading!

TBC

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