Chapter 4

Personal log, Lt. Lindsey Lander; supplemental: Captain Taylor is dead, as is First Officer Gonzalez and all the senior command staff of the Orion. We were attacked by a Romulan Warbird. Outpost Beta-Gamma is lost, along with all but two of its staff members: a Klingon engineer by the name of Raklok and female science officer whose name I can't recall.

But I don't have the luxury of worrying about Beta-Gamma. The Orion is heavily damaged, and Lt. Henry Hickensen and I are the highest ranking members of the command staff. The crew of the Orion is working admirably to repair the damages, but I have called a meeting in order to determine who should command the Orion. The meeting will consist of the senior officers of all the departments…or at least those who are left.

Lindsey stared at the empty seat at the end of the conference room table where Captain Taylor usually sat. Tears threaten to well up in her eyes, but she repressed them. She already had her outburst of weeping. Now was time for her to keep her composure.

Sitting across from her was Dr. Thomas Randel, the chief medical officer. Beside him was Lt. Ulysses F. Grant, aka Frank, the acting head of security following the death of Lcdr. Jones. Beside Lindsey was Lt. Henry Hickensen, who was her equal in rank.

The door to the conference room opened and Lcdr. MacDonald, the chief engineer entered. "Sorry about my delay. I wanted to oversee the beginning of the warp core's maintenance."

"There is nothing to forgive Lieutenant Commander," said Lindsey. The Orion had just dropped out of warp to address the problems with the damaged warp core, and Lindsey knew that without a warp core escape from pursuit would be near impossible. "You and your engineers are the only thing keeping this ship together."

"Physically maybe, but there are other things needed to keep a ship together," Lcdr. MacDonald took his seat. "But I suppose we are here to address the need for leadership."

"You are correct," said Lindsey. "Doctor, your report."

Dr. Randel spoke. "I have confirmed the deaths of both Captain Theresa Taylor and Commander Luis Gonzalez. The Orion is officially without a commander. The computer is prepared to transfer the command codes to the new officer who will take the responsibility of acting captain."

"Thank you, Doctor," said Lindsey as she turned her attention to everyone in the room. "As you are all aware the highest ranking officers on board the Orion are Lieutenant Commander MacDonald and Doctor Randel, whose position in Starfleet Medical makes him equivalent to a Lieutenant Commander."

"But a medical officer cannot take command of a starship," said Dr. Randel.

"Nor can an engineer, in the usual circumstances. And I do not have any command experience," said Lcdr. MacDonald.

"These are not usual circumstances, Mr. MacDonald," said Lindsey. "But if we are to choose our acting captain from the command staff, then the highest ranking members are Lt. Hickensen and myself. Lt. Hickensen has one year seniority over me; therefore, I recommend that he be named our acting captain. Are there any objections?"

"I object," said Henry. Lindsey looked disappointedly at him.

"Now is not the time to shrink from responsibility, Lieutenant."

"I am not," replied Henry. "Will you hear my objection?"

Lindsey nodded, and Henry continued.

"I object to my being named acting captain over Lt. Lander on three grounds. First, my seniority over her is not one year. It is true that I graduated from the Academy one year before her, but my promotion to lieutenant senior grade was a little less than a month from her equivalent promotion; 23 days to be exact; and that period of time is too little to establish seniority.

"Second, Lt. Lander has served on this ship with this crew for four years; I have only been here a little over a month. So, in terms of service on board the Orion, she has seniority. There is also the practical consideration that her greater knowledge of the ship and its crew will make her a more effective captain.

"And lastly, I contend that Lt. Lander is already in command of the Orion. She has been ever since she realized the bridge was unresponsive. She took over the auxiliary bridge; she commanded the battle; she saw to it that the essential systems of the Orion were functioning and that all departments were coordinated in this emergency situation; and she called this meeting."

"How very logical of you, Henry," said Lindsey. "Yet I not certain that I am the one for this job."

"None of us are, Lindsey. The one for this job is Captain Taylor or Commander Gonzalez, but they're gone." Then Henry, impersonating Lindsey's mannerisms, repeated her own words. "Now is not the time to shrink from responsibility, Lieutenant."

Lindsey let out an exasperated breath. "Two officers providing two compelling arguments for the other to take command! How are we to decide?"

"We don't," said Henry. "They do," Henry nodded his head at the doctor and the engineer in the room. "Dr. Randel and Lcdr. MacDonald may not be able to command this ship, but I think their rank should have a say in the decision of who will be our captain." Henry looked at Lindsey, "Will you allow the ranking officers of the Orion to choose their captain?"

Lindsey gave Henry a slow nod. "If they are willing." She turned to the other two men. "Dr. Randel and Lcdr. MacDonald, will you solve this debate for us?"

The doctor and the engineer looked at each other. MacDonald indicated Lindsey with his head, and Dr. Randel acted as spokesperson. "We will, and we choose Lt. Lindsey Lander as our captain." Lcdr. MacDonald added, "Congratulations, Captain."

Lindsey felt a sickness in her stomach as she accepted their choice. But it was their choice, and Henry was right. She had tried to pass off this responsibility, but he wouldn't let her. There was only one fitting thing to do for an officer who showed such objective thinking and friendship. "I accept under one condition. That Lt. Hickensen be my first officer."

"Done," said Henry.

"Then let us adjourn. There is a lot of work to be done." The officers all stood and walked through the doors to the bridge.

As soon as they were on the bridge Lt. Kustov reported, "Commander MacDonald, the bridge is patched up and fully operational."

"Excellent work, Vlad," answered the chief engineer, but Lindsey looked nervously at the plating that had been grafted on the place where the bridge had experienced the hull breach. It looked sort of stable, she thought.

"Lieutenant Lander," reported Lt. Mikkelson, the navigator. "All functions have been transferred here from the auxiliary bridge."

"Excellent work, Mr. Mikkelson. Doctor, I believe you have another duty."

"Yes, Lieutenant," said the Doctor. "Computer, in absence of a captain and a first officer and as ranking officer on board the Orion, I order you to transfer all command codes to Lt. Lindsey Lander, our acting captain. Authorization code: 94773 zeta, theta."

Lcdr. MacDonald also spoke, "I second that. Authorization code: 86229 delta, upsilon."

"Confirmed. Command codes given to Captain Lander."

"Captain on the bridge!" saluted Henry, and everyone on the bridge stood at attention.

Lindsey was overwhelmed, but she managed to walk over to the Captain's chair, and she slowly lower herself into it. As she sat down she felt a shiver; the same shiver that she had back when the Orion had last left space dock. But this time she couldn't pass it off as merely a bad feeling. This time she was the captain of a starship.

Begin Acting Captain's log; stardate 57014.1: I, Lieutenant Lindsey Lander, am now in command of the USS Orion NCC-26532. This has occurred following the death of my captain, first officer, and all senior command staff during a battle with a Romulan Warbird which is still at large and likely hunting us. I am only four years out of the Academy and only 27 years of age. I am by all likelihood the youngest and least experienced captain in all of Starfleet. All this makes me extremely nervous, anxious, and yes, frighten. But my crew is counting on me to keep my composure and get them out of this mess alive, so that is what I aim to do.

Lindsey sat in Captain Taylor's ready room. She could not yet get used to calling it her own. Technically she was only borrowing the room, the rank, and the ship. Lindsey did not actually have the rank of captain. The insignia on her collar still bore the two gold pips of a lieutenant, a rank to which she would return after she got the Orion and its crew back to the security of Starfleet. When she was in the Academy she dreamed of being the captain of a starship. Now she longed for the days of being a mere lieutenant. And more than anything she wanted Captain Taylor and the others back. She missed them sorely.

A chime told her that someone was at her door. "Come in." Lt. Grant walked into the room. "Ah, welcome, Lieutenant."

"Captain," He addressed as he sat across from Lindsey. "Getting used to the new office?"

"No. And I don't think I ever will, Frank." replied Lindsey. "It just constantly reminds me of Captain Taylor."

"I understand," said Lt. Grant. "I can't stop thinking about Commander Jones. It doesn't help that I now have his job. But do have his job. And he is not the only person I miss."

Lindsey gave a slow sad nod. "You lost a lot of good men back at Beta-Gamma."

"The only consolation is that the low moisture atmosphere will preserve their bodies for future burial when this is over," Frank sighed, "Captain, we have lost over half our security personnel. In the event of a hostile boarding we cannot guarantee security for the entire ship." Frank looked Lindsey right in the eyes. "Simply put, Captain, Security call no longer defend the Orion."

Lindsey took a slow breath as she received the worse possible scenario from her acting Chief of Security. "We can rearrange the ship; empty out various noncritical sections and decks. Residences can be moved; supplies relocated. By doing this we can reduce the areas that need to be secured. You could also pull the bridge guards."

"You want me to leave the bridge unguarded?"

"All command personnel are trained in small arms combat. Lt. Hickensen has received even more training. We should be able to defend ourselves."

"I fought alongside Lt. Hickensen. He can certainly hold his own. But I am still going to leave at least one guard at the bridge. But even with such rearrangements we will still be short-handed."

Lindsey bowed her head at the paradox. How many more impossible tasks would she face?

"Captain, I do have a suggestion."

Lindsey raised her head. "What kind of suggestion?"

"Back on Earth, 19th century North American frontier law enforcement was handled by elected sheriffs. When these sheriffs were in need of additional support they had the authority to deputized regular citizens to act as law enforcement."

Lindsey raised an eye brow. "You want to make some deputies on the Orion?"

"I think we can find a couple dozen volunteers who are both skilled enough and able to be trained. They will not go on any away missions. They would only be a defense force in the event that the Orion is boarded."

"Training such people would be a huge undertaking. Are you up to such a task?"

"I think I am. I will train them alongside my own people. We will need to run drills on how to defend the Orion with the new arrangement anyway. Do I have your permission to proceed?"

"There are some crew members you cannot take from their roles. No one from Engineering, Command, or Sick Bay."

"Of course."

"Submit all potential deputies to me for final approval."

"Yes, Captain."

"Then you have my permission to process, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, Captain." Lt. Grant began to leave the ready room, but then turned around. "Permission to speak freely, Captain."

"Of course, Frank."

"Lindsey, we are all here for you, the whole crew. The Orion has its Captain's back. You can rely on us."

"Thank you, Frank."

Lindsey's combadge became active. "Engineering to Captain Lander!" came the urgent voice through the combadge. "The warp core is unstable, and I can't control it. If we do not drop out of warp immediately, we will very likely have a core breach."

"Acknowledged, Commander," said Lindsey as she stood from her chair and walked briskly towards the bridge. Lt. Grant stepped out of her way and then followed her on to the bridge. Lindsey began issuing orders as soon as she was through the doors. "Helm, slow us to impulse. We need to drop out of warp immediately." Ens. Ryan obeyed immediately and the stars ceased to pass by the viewport but remained stationary.

Henry turned to her with a question on his face. "What's going on?"

"Engineering is reporting an unstable warp core." Lindsey reached the Captain's Chair and sat down, but she squirmed uncomfortably for a bit. "Ensign, continue under impulse engines…No, belay that order. Bring us to full stop."

"Yes, Captain."

"Full stop?" asked Henry.

"Yes, just until we can figure out our next option. Bridge to Engineering, what's our status?"

Commander MacDonald's voice returned through the combadge. "Not good. The warp core is seriously compromised. I have tried shielding the damaged parts, but it is no good. We can't continue at warp."

"Not even slow warp; say warp 2?"

"That would slow the breach, but it will happen eventually. And it will happen before we reach safe haven."

"Is there anything that we can do?"

"I might be able to patch it, but we'll need to shut it completely down."

"How long?"

"Five, six hours."

"Thank you, Engineering."

Henry spoke up, "Five or six hours! If the Romulans are searching for us, they will find us by then."

"I know, Henry." Lindsey paused for a bit in thought. Suddenly Lindsey stood up and walked over to Ens. Chaput's station. "Sensor scan, what systems are nearby?"

"There is a system just two lightyears away," answered the female ensign.

"Let me see what it is composed of. On screen." Ens. Chaput displayed on the main viewscreen a chart of the system, while Lindsey walked in front of it. "If we can't run, perhaps we can hide. Bridge to Engineering, do you think the core can handle a two lightyear journey?"

"Perhaps, I recommend traveling no faster than warp 3. I will monitor it."

"Keep me updated. Ens. Ryan lay in a course for that system. I want to travel to the asteroid field beyond the third planet."

"Yes, Captain." After a few moments Ens. Ryan had the coursed laid in. "Ready, Captain."

"Engineering, stand by for warp. Ensign, warp 2.5. Engage." The Orion returned to warp.

"Lindsey, what are you up to? Hiding in an asteroid field?" said Henry.

"In mid to late 20th century naval warfare, submersible vessels were used to avoid detection. The response was sonar systems which used sound waves in the water to detect these submarines. The submarines in turn developed silent engines, sound absorbing hulls, and even resorted to imposing silence on the crew. I even heard once that the crew would walk stocking foot to avoid making sounds with their shoes."

"Lindsey, sound does not travel through space."

"I know that, but perhaps we can create a type of silent here on the Orion. We have already lost long range communications. We will shut off all communications; short range and even internal. We will leave only hard wire communications. We will already be shutting down our warp core, we could also shut down our impulse engines. We could cut power consumption drastically. We could configure our shields to mask our life signs. Finally, we can find a particularly metallic asteroid to hide next to."

"That might work," said Henry.

Lindsey returned to her captain's chair and waited. At warp 2.5 it seemed like an eternity to travel two light years. But eventually they neared the system. "Ensign, slow us down to warp 1. I want to be as close as possible when we drop out of warp."

"How close, Captain?"

"Ideally? Close enough to use thrusters. I don't want to leave an obvious impulse trail. Ensign, the helm is entirely yours. Get as close as you deem prudent."

"Yes, Captain." Ryan began to sit at the edge of his seat, his hands right on the controls. After a few tense minutes he brought the Orion out of warp. In front of the Orion they could see the system's star. After a bit the star was eclipsed by some dark object.

"If that's an asteroid, then I say you got pretty close, Ryan," said Henry.

"Captain, I found a highly metallic asteroid about 500 kilometers from our current position. In fact, there are three of them there."

Lindsey smiled. Selina, the nervous young officer, had just anticipated her Captain's question. Lindsey took this as a good sign from the female ensign. And her helmsman had just piloted with the precision of a veteran. The junior crew of the Orion were stepping up to demands. "Good work, Ms. Chaput. Send its location to Mr. Ryan, and we will proceed. Mr. Ryan, thrusters only, bring us close."

Vlad was standing next to Lcdr. MacDonald as they stared at the warp core. Its normal blue color was gone. It had been a long time since Vlad had seen a warp core completely shut down outside of space dock.

"Well, think we can fix her?" asked MacDonald in his Scottish accent.

"She took quiet the jolt when that photon torpedo hit too close. Microfractures all around. I suppose we can fuse most of them together. It's the larger fractures I'm worried about. They penetrated deep into the core."

"I think I can handle them."

"When we get this ship back to Starfleet, we might need to replace the whole core."

"Well, it's our job to get her back," said MacDonald as he slapped Vlad on the back

At that moment, Captain Lander walked into Engineering. "Captain! I didn't expect to see you here," said Vlad.

"I have some questions better answered in person," replied the Captain. She looked very young, but Vlad was impressed by the way his acting captain was composing herself. "Lieutenant Commander, what do you think of our warp core?"

"With it shut down we were able to do a thorough diagnostic. It is worse than I thought. Short of completely tearing it apart and replacing half its components we can't completely fix it."

"Then we have no warp core," said the Captain in a dejected voice.

"That's not what said, Captain. I said we can't completely fix it. But I think I can patch it up enough to get us home. I won't lie to you. The core will be unstable. I will have a crewman standing by the eject button at all times."

"So, we patch it and roll the dice?"

"That's about it. And that's not the only bad news. I have to lengthen my estimated repair time."

"How long?" asked the Captain with a look of worry.

"I would say twenty to twenty-four hours."

"A full day!" said the Captain with an exasperated sigh. "Well, it is what it is. Continue Mr. MacDonald."

"Captain," continued the Chief Engineer. "The warp core is not the only thing feeling the stress."

"What other equipment do we need to attend to?"

"Not equipment, personnel," said MacDonald. "I know my own limits. If I don't get some sleep soon, I will make devastating…correction…fatal mistakes. I going to work another hour setting up Vlad to do much of the work, and then I am going to get some sleep. Fresh from that I will finish up the most important work. This delay will lead to a lot of down time for your bridge crew. I recommend they get some sleep, and you too. Don't tough it out, Captain. We need you fully functioning."

"There will be downtime only if the Romulans don't find us, but I will consider your recommendation." The Captain paused as though a new thought came to her mind. "I have another question. Lt. Hickensen told me about the equipment that we forgot to deliver to Beta-Gamma. He told me it was sensor equipment. What kind of sensor equipment?"

"I have no idea. I never took a look at it. Vlad?"

"Nor I, sir. But I think Petty Officer Shelton might know."

"I want to talk to him," said the Captain.

"Yes, ma'am."

"And get that station engineer while you're at it," added MacDonald.

"Lt. Kustov to Petty Officer Shelton and Ens. Raklok, the Captain would like to speak to you. Meet us at Engineering."

Soon the two engineers arrived, and the Captain turned her attention toward them. The Petty Officer looked extremely frighten while the Klingon walked tall and proud. "Petty Officer Shelton…" started the Captain.

"Why am I here?" said Raklok in a deep voice.

"Ensign, you were not addressed," said MacDonald. "You will wait until the Captain speaks to you."

"She is not the captain. I will not answer to a mere lieutenant."

MacDonald was about to speak again, when Captain Lander walked directly up to the Klingon. Although he was far bigger than the young human female, she stood in front of him and looked him in the eye. "The Captain is dead, and I am left to take command. I didn't ask for this, nor would I ever ask for this. But it happened. I am the Captain of the Orion! I have a starship that is badly damage, a warp core that may not work, a crew that is inexperienced, and a Romulan Warbird that could find us at any time and destroy us. I do not need an insubordinate ensign on board my ship, and I will not tolerate it; whether he be Human, Vulcan, or Klingon. Do I make myself clear?"

There was an angry rumbling from the Klingon, but at the same time Vlad thought he saw a smile come to Raklok's mouth. Had Captain Lander just earned the Klingon's respect? "Understood, Captain."

"Good." Captain Lander turned to the Petty Officer who looked even more frighten than before. "Petty Officer, what kind materials did you opt not to send down to the Beta-Gamma?"

"It was a crate of sensor materials," said Shelton. Raklok suddenly turned toward the Petty Officer who cowered next to Vlad. But one look from the Captain restrained the Klingon.

"Do you know something about these materials, Ensign?" asked the Captain.

"They were to be installed at Beta-Gamma, until this coward forgot them," answered the Klingon.

"I wasn't aware that the sensors at Beta-Gamma needed repair."

"They didn't," clarified the Klingon. "They needed augmenting."

"Augmenting?" said Vlad. "What kind of augmenting?"

"Beta-Gamma was tasked to watch for cloaked Romulan ships. Those new sensor packages were going to make it possible."

"That's probably why the Romulans attacked," stated MacDonald.

"I agree. They probably were going to make it look like some raiders, or perhaps even the Klingons," said the Captain. "There were not supposed to be any survivors."

"One Klingon lives," said Raklok.

"You and all of us," added the Captain. "We all saw the Romulans. Now they will try to eliminate us to keep their secret. Which is why we need to do whatever we can to gain the upper hand and survive." Then the Captain spoke directly to Raklok. "Do you think you can adapt those sensor parts to the Orion's sensors?"

Raklok had a lot of pride as a Klingon, but as an engineer he also had some professional pride. The Captain's question tapped into this pride and got him thinking. "The Orion has been recently refitted. Her sensors will still be underpowered compared to Beta-Gamma. Her range will never compare to the outpost. But if the sensors were replaced in the refit with new ones…"

"They were," said Vlad.

"…then we should be able to do it," finished Raklok.

"Excellent," said the Captain. "Ens. Raklok, consider this your assignment. MacDonald give him whatever help you can spare."

Petty Officer Shelton sheepishly raised his hand, "Captain?" Captain Lander turned to him. "Captain, will I be punished for my mistake?"

"Yes, Petty Officer, you will; but later, after all this is over. For now, I am assigning you to work with Ens. Raklok on the sensors." The Petty Officer looked with fear at the Klingon, who in turned smiled. The Captain continued, "If you two are able to let us see a cloaked ship, then I will consider some of your mistake undone. Understood?" The Petty Officer shook his head, and the Captain turned to Raklok. "Don't hurt him. He's just a skittish little boy."

The Klingon laughed and slapped young Shelton hard on the back. "Let's get to work, Skittish."

Vlad watched as Raklok and Shelton walked away, "Are you sure that was a good idea, Captain?"

"Raklok needs some work to keep his mind off his wounded pride, and Shelton needs to grow a bit of a spine. It will either work or fail miserably. Time will tell. Carry on, gentlemen."

Vlad smiled as he watched Lindsey walk away. She still looked young, but she also looked the part: a Starfleet Captain.

Lt. Johnathan Mikkelson was just about nodding off at his navigator's station when Captain Lander came back to the bridge. Lt. Hickenson spoke the official alert, "Captain on the bridge." Johnathan along with the helmsman, Ens. Luke Ryan, were not required to stand from their seated consoles to acknowledge the Captain, but Ens. Selina Chaput and the engineer at the communications station stood at attention.

"At ease," said Lindsey. "But not too much at ease. I don't want anyone falling asleep at their station."

"That won't happen, Captain," said Ens. Ryan from the helmsman console, but Johnathan thought that he should only speak for himself. Johnathan resisted the urge to rub his eyes.

"Ensign, did you have a night shift the night before last?"

"Yes, Captain," answered the helmsman. "But I got five hours of rest before the red alert was called."

"That's not enough," replied Lindsey, and then she spoke to the whole bridge. "I just found out that the warp core repairs will take an entire day. Beyond the repair it may still be a good number of days before we are rescued by Starfleet. We simply cannot operate without sleep that long. Therefore, I am standing down red alert. We will be at yellow alert, and all bridge officers are to consider themselves on call at all times. However, I am instituting a mandatory shift rotation.

"Mr. Mikkelson, Mr. Ryan, and Ms. Chaput, there must be two of you stationed on the bridge at all times. Therefore, you will each take a 16 hour shift with the remaining 8 hours as a mandatory period of rest and recuperation. That means you must sleep and eat your major meal during those hours. Lt. Hickensen and I will be able to relieve you for short breaks and small meals during your shift. The Captain's ready room has a replicator which I am making available to all you for coffee or other stimulating beverages.

"Ens. Ryan, you are our primary helmsman. When you are off duty Lt. Mikkelson will take the conn. Mr. Mikkelson," Johnathan turned toward the Captain as she spoke to him. "Your main station will be navigation when you are not relieving Ens. Ryan. And Ens. Chaput, your main station is operations, but when we are in shifts you will relieve Lt. Mikkelson at navigation. Tactical will be operated by either Lt. Hickensen or myself.

"Ens. Ryan, you are the first one for an off shift. Your shift ends on the hour. Get some rest. Since we do not have a communications officer workers from engineering will be operating that post as well as the sensor displays. Their shifts will be organized by our Chief Engineer. Is everything clear?"

Johnathan added his voice to the chorus of 'yes, ma'am's, but he heard Henry object. "What about you and me?"

"One of us has to be on the bridge at all times. Therefore, we will also take 16 hour shifts. When one of us is resting the other will have the bridge. In the 8 hours we are both on duty one of us will have the bridge, the other will attend to other matters on the ship."

"Sounds good to me. You should take the first off shift, Captain."

"Negative, Lieutenant. I am not the one who flew a shuttle while under fire or the one who engaged in a ground battle. Your shift ends on the hour. Go and get some rest and return here to relieve me in 8 hours."

"Captain, I insist you take a brief rest first. A nap perhaps in the Captain's ready room. Let me take the bridge for the next two hours. That way our shift changes do not occur at the same time as the crew's."

A sudden weariness appeared on the Captain's face, and Johnathan could see just how much effort she was putting into to keeping good appearances. Johnathan knew this was not pride, but her duty as a captain. If the captain is fine, the ship is fine.

"Your request is granted. You will notify me at the first sign of trouble."

"Of course, Captain."

The Captain made her way to her ready room, but turned around and spoke to the crew. "Give me your coffee orders now. I don't want to be disturbed for the next two hours by somebody with a caffeine craving."

Johnathan laughed a bit, "Then you better make it a cup of black for me, Captain." The Captain smiled, and for a moment Johnathan didn't see a stressed captain, but his friend, Lindsey.

Petty Office Shelton was nervous and quiet as he worked next to Raklok. He was surprised at how the big Klingon could work in the small crawl spaces of the Jefferies tubes.

"Skittish, can you not speak?"

"I can speak," said Shelton with a bit of annoyance about being called 'Skittish' before remembering he was speaking to an angry Klingon.

"Why didn't you send the equipment down to Beta-Gamma?"

"Because it didn't seem to belong. It was a mislabeled box, or so I thought. I guess that was the point, with the secrecy and all."

"Secrecy! A lot of good it did us. The Romulans already knew about it. It was the worse kept secret," said the angry Klingon. "I just want another chance to pick those pointy ears right off their heads."

"If you want battle so bad, why did you become an engineer?"

"I am a bit small as Klingon child. When they found out I was intelligent, they decided I should be an engineer. They never even gave me a chance to prove myself in combat."

"That doesn't sound like Starfleet."

"It wasn't Starfleet. It was the Klingon Empire."

"How did you end up in Starfleet?"

"Many members of the Klingon Empire do not respect engineers. Who do they think keeps their ships running, or their weapons functioning? Do they thank us? No! I joined Starfleet because that is where my work is appreciated." The Klingon sighed. "Still, I wish to fight."

"Are weapon makers honored in the Empire?"

"Yes," said Raklok with a questioning voice.

"Well, think of it this way. If we install this new sensor package, then the Orion will be able to see our enemy and…" Shelton added with a bit of an edge. "…destroy them. In a way, we are arming the Orion. And I can feel better too. It may be that my mistake of forgetting these parts may lead to saving lives."

"Hah! Then let's get this working. Hand me that spammer."

"Hey! You two!" came Lt. Kustov's voice from down the Jefferies tube. "Are you almost ready?"

"Just a few more things," said Raklok to Shelton.

"Just a minute or two!" shouted Shelton to Vlad.

"Good! The first officer would like to conduct a test soon."

"We'll be ready."

"Lieutenant!" shouted Selina from the navigator's seat. "I think I saw a glitch on the sensor."

"A glitch, Ensign?" questioned Henry.

"Maybe, but I have a gut feeling it was something else."

"Like a cloaked ship?" inquired Henry. Selina merely gave him a raised eye brow as she turned in her seat to face him. Henry could tell by the look on her face that she truly believed that something was out there. Henry himself was impressed. Earlier he had thought that Selina lacked confidence, but now that she was in a true position of responsibility she was overcoming her shyness and listening to her instincts. "Okay, Ensign. Let's take a look." Henry hit a button on his console, "Bridge to Engineering, are our sensors ready?"

Vlad's voice came over the communications. "We were just about to call you for a test run."

"Perfect timing. We have a sensor anomaly that our navigator thinks might be a cloaked ship. Bring the sensors online."

"Yes, sir," there was a brief silence before Vlad's voice returned. "Sensors are online."

"Thank you, Engineering." Henry looked at Selina who was still staring at him over her shoulder. "Alright Ensign, focus the sensors on the glitch. Keep the power low. We don't want to give away our location."

"Yes, Lieutenant," Ens. Chaput worked the controls and gently moved up the power. "I got something! I can't tell for certain what it is; but it is cloaked, and it is the size of a starship."

"Captain Lander, report to the bridge immediately!" Henry said into his combadge. In a few seconds he saw Lindsey come out of her captain's ready room, straightening her uniform and her hair.

"What's going on?"

Henry turned to her. "Good news, sensor package works. Bad news, Romulans are here."

"Where?"

"About two hundred kilometers off our starboard bow, and closing," said Ens. Chaput.

"Do they know we're here?"

"I don't think so. Their travel pattern suggests that they are searching," said the young lady. "But I am certain that they know we are in this system."

"Weapons status."

Henry answered from the operations console. "Weapons are powered down. All torpedo tubes have their ten torpedo magazines full. Should we power up weapons?"

"Not yet. And keep shields set in camouflage mode."

"Lindsey?" asked Henry with a troubled voice.

"A fight will probably go their way."

"Not if we surprise them."

"To fight or to hide?" Lindsey thought out loud.

"Romulan Warbird, one hundred kilometers and closing," said Selina.

"Engineering, warp core status."

"We've barely begun," answered MacDonald.

Lindsey sat back in her captain's chair, but Henry approached, "What are we going to do, Captain?"

"Our mission now is to get the information of the Romulan attack to Starfleet. Since we can't transmit it, we need to hand deliver it. That means getting the Orion safely back to Starfleet." Lindsey hit the communications panel on her captain's chair and leaned forward. "This is the Captain to all hands, shut down any nonessential communications or powered devices. We are going silent." Then Lindsey turned to Henry. "Put the ship in the most restricted power preservation mode we have."

"Yes, Captain." Henry gave a few commands to his console and the majority of Orion's lights went out."

Lindsey then got out of her seat. "Power down the view screen. I will look on your display Ensign," she said as she stood up and leaned over Selina. "Send the cloaked ship's location to Lt. Hickensen. Henry, prepare to target and fire photon torpedoes. Mr. Mikkelson, prepare to go full thrusters and to bring the impulse engines online."

The crew acknowledged their orders just as Selina said, "Cloaked ship, fifty kilometers and closing."

"Steady now," said Lindsey. "What is the status of our shield camouflage?"

"Shields are working as we designed them to," answered Henry. "Hopefully they will disguise our life signatures, without attracting too much attention themselves."

"Hopefully, Lieutenant," said Lindsey as she leaned closer to Selina's station. Henry did not share his Captain's confidence or hope, but he trusted Lindsey with her decisions. Nonetheless the tension was felt across the bridge.

"Twenty-five kilometers," said Selina, and then after a bit longer. "Fifteen kilometers…ten kilometers…nine…eight…seven…six." Then followed a longer pause which couldn't have been more than a second, but seemed like an eternity. Finally, Ens. Chaput spoke again. "Ten kilometers…Fifteen kilometers and growing…Twenty-five kilometers. They have passed us and are still going." Selina let out a sigh of relief, as did Henry.

But Lindsey was still on alert. "Don't relax yet. We are still very much in their sensor range."

And so, the agonizing seconds passed with Selina continuing to report how far away the Romulan ship was. Finally, she reported, "The Romulan Warbird is five hundred kilometers away and growing."

Lindsey let out a sigh of relief as she returned to her chair. "Okay, I will allow myself to hope that they did not actually see us. Bring up whatever systems are needed for repair, and get us a few more lights." Lindsey returned to her chair. "Lt. Hickensen, you are relieved for your off shift. I expect you to get some solid rest."

"Yes, Captain," but before he left, Henry leaned down to Lindsey's ear. "Running silent? Not bad, Captain, not bad."

"Ha ha!" shouted Raklok the Klingon engineer. "We did it, Skittish! A victory over the enemy. Not as sweet as plunging your d'k tahg into the flesh of the enemy, but a victory nonetheless. Come, Skittish. If we live through this, we shall toast our success with real Klingon blood wine."

"Yeah, sure," said Shelton as the Klingon slapped him on the back.