PROLOGUE

The year was 2257. The ship was the USS Farquhar. Its shield had collapsed and hull began buckling under the continued attacks of the advancing Tholian fleet. A survey of the border region had turned disastrous after four Tholian ships had emerged. While the Farquhar remained free of their web, the incredible punishment the Tholians had dealt her had left her dead in space.

Consoles sparked and conduits blew apart in Engineering. Inside, there was little – if anything – to salvage, save the trapped engineers. Out of the wreckage emerged Lieutenant – till recently Ensign – Joseph Sangster, with an injured crewman slung over his shoulder. He carefully placed his comrade at the medical team's feet. Among them was his friend in Medical, Ensign Selik.

"Here, Selik. I'll go back in and…"

The Vulcan grabbed Sangster's shoulder as he turned. "No, Sangster. The omicron radiation…"

"It's still at 700 Bq, isn't it? That's still safe – for now. If I don't help our trapped comrades, they won't stand a chance."

A silence passed between the two. Sangster spoke up again. "I know what I'm doing. Close the doors when it reaches 1K. I'll try to get as many crewmen out as I can before then. Got it?"

A quick nod indicated more than words could say. Selik kept his eye on the tricorder's readout. 740 Bq. 750 Bq. 780 Bq.

More and more crew emerged from the door, helped along by Sangster and other engineering officers. All the while the radiation count increased, monitored by Selik. 820. 839. 874. Five minutes in and it was already at 938 Bq.

Just as Sangster was about to reach the door again, disaster struck. A disruptor burst from the Tholians brought the roof caving down – with the lieutenant caught in the middle. Selik rushed to his friend to aid him. Just before Selik could cross the threshold into Engineering, Sangster held out his hand, and then brought it firmly down.

He weakly croaked, "The doors – the doors – close them…" as he waved his arm down again, then collapsed under the immense strain of the debris on his back.

Selik turned away as he struck the console, shutting the blast doors. As they fell, so did he, crouched by the closed egress, mulling over the fate of his friend – his t'hy'la. Whether or not the Farquhar survived, he knew one man who would not return with it.