Chapter Twelve: Gut Instincts


U.S.S. Archer, Main Bridge, Deck 1

The Archer's main bridge was a hive of activity. Various officers were coming and going with reports for the department heads and assistant department heads that were staffing their stations. It was deceptively busy in the nerve centre of the starship. While junior officers were handing out PADD's, compiling status reports and generally making themselves busy; the senior officers were simply waiting. Captain Pressley had retired to his ready room and was consulting with Lieutenant Kor'vec over the operational readiness of the ships security department. Commander Nasar currently occupied the captain's chair. He had just approved the weekly requisition request, which had mostly consisted of new isolinear chips for Lieutenant Maylee Perisson down in engineering. The XO wondered if Commander Spock had to deal with so much bureaucracy when he was first officer of the Enterprise under James T. Kirk. Nasar decided that Spock was probably too busy saving the Federation on a nearly weekly basis to have time to deal with requisition orders and computer parts.

As his yeoman, Crewman Malen Prast, walked off with the approved requisition order, Nasar afforded himself a glance at the viewscreen and the Haldeman Research Station. It had been twenty-one minutes since the away team had been sent across in the Robert E. Lee and Nasar was starting to get nervous. The Commander wasn't sure whether what he was feeling might have been impatience instead, so he was opting for nervousness. Although it was unreasonable for him to expect the team to have disabled whatever was jamming the station in such a short space of time. In nine minutes the Captain was due to re-appear and, if the away team hadn't been heard from, give the go-ahead to Captain Parell and the Bravo team marine unit to be sent in.

Nasar spun his chair to the right and looked towards the mission operations station. It was staffed by the Chief of Mission Operations; Lieutenant (j.g.) Paul Castle. Castle currently looked as frustrated as Nasar felt. The XO supposed it was understandable; Castle's main role aboard the Archer was to liaise with any away teams and co-ordinate between the mission commander and the ship commander. With the jamming field currently cutting the ship off from the away team, the Lieutenant literally had nothing to do.

"Lieutenant Castle," Nasar spoke up, causing several officers to look in his direction. "Has there been any fluctuation in the jamming field?"

"Negative." Castle said, the frustration that was evident on his face could be heard in his tone of voice.

"Lieutenant Commander Merrick," Nasar spun his chair one-hundred and eighty degrees to face the science station to his right. Sora Merrick, the Assistant Chief Science Officer, staffed it in Commander Ambrose's absence. "Any joy breaking through the jamming field?"

"No sir." The Centauran replied. "I've got engineering and science teams on it, but they haven't come up with anything yet."

"Keep me appraised." Nasar ordered.

"Aye sir."

He spun the Captain's chair back around and allowed himself another quick glance out at the research station, then at the chronometer that was above the main viewscreen. It was seven minutes now until the away team was officially overdue. Nasar, against his better judgment, allowed his mind to wander to the conversation he had chickened out of having with the Captain. He was disappointed that the Archer had diverted away from their supply mission to Caitia, but at the same time, he was also relieved. He had not been looking forward to telling his best friend that he had been having an on-off relationship with his little sister for nearly eighteen years, never mind that he was planning to propose to her in a few days time.

"Commander." It was the voice of the Archer's Communications Engineer; Lieutenant (j.g.) Kirsty Allerton, that brought Nasar back to the real world. He spun his chair to the right to face her.

"What is it Lieutenant?"

"We're receiving a communication from the station." She told him. Nasar smiled.

"Roveck must have brought down the jamming field." He said aloud to no-one in particular.

"Negative, the jamming field is still up."

"The message isn't from Roveck, sir. It's from a Doctor Angela Bannister." The two responses from Merrick and Allerton overlapped each other and the XO almost did not hear either. He tapped his comm badge instantly.

"Captain Pressley to the bridge, immediately." He said with some urgency in his voice. As the communication channel had closed he vacated the captain's chair and hoped that he would have some good news soon.


U.S.S. Archer, Main Bridge, Deck 1

Captain Pressley had been in the middle of asking Lieutenant Kor'vec to put together a list of names for a second away team when he had heard the call from his first officer. Both he and Kor'vec, who was the ships Assistant Chief of Security and Melzora's stand in while she was not aboard ship, stood quickly and went straight to the bridge. When the doors slid open and he stepped through, Pressley noted that Nasar had quickly vacated his chair. It was almost as if his friend was uncomfortable sitting in the "big chair" as he referred to it.

"Report." The Captain ordered. He saw Kor'vec take his position at tactical as Nasar sat in his XO's position.

"We're receiving a communication from the station. It's coming from a member of the station's crew, as opposed to one of our people." Nasar explained.

"The jamming field?" Pressley asked, sitting down in his captain's chair.

"Still up." The Captain raised an eyebrow when he was told this, and all he got was an agreeing look from his first officer.

"On screen."

"We're receiving an audio only signal, sir." Allerton piped up from her communications station. Pressley didn't respond, merely making a gesture for the young woman to put the signal through on the speaker. A beep and a nod from the communications specialist was all the indication that the Captain needed to know that his order had been carried out.

"I repeat this is the Haldeman Research Station to the starship Archer, please respond." The voice that spoke was that of a slightly high-pitched female, though there was some distortion coming across on the frequency that Pressley could hear.

"This is Captain Alexander Pressley of the Archer."

"Oh thank God!" Was the immediate reply by the woman, who did sound genuinely relieved. "Sir, this is Doctor Angela Bannister, I'm the head researcher here."

"What's the situation Doctor?" Pressley asked.

"We were attacked, sir." She began. "We were running an experiment with some advanced equipment for Starfleet Intelligence, like the jammers that are currently running. The Orion Syndicate must have gotten a tip about it, because they forced their way aboard."

Pressley shot his XO another puzzled look. Nasar spoke up next. "We don't see any damage to the station, Doctor."

"They must have been cloaked, because we didn't detect any ships before we were boarded." Bannister replied after a momentary pause. Nasar turned to Merrick.

"Run detailed scans of the area, try and find those cloaked ships, if they're still in the area." He said in a low, hushed tone being very careful so that Bannister did not hear him. Merrick simply nodded and then set about her task.

"We have an away team aboard the station." Pressley said. "Have you seen any of them?"

"Yes." Was the only reply after a pause that made both of the command officers very uneasy. They exchanged worried glances and Pressley knew that his first officers' gut instincts and his own were perfectly in accord. Something was not adding up in this situation. It was then that Pressley gave Nasar a very subtle signal. It was a signal that they had begun using when the Captain had first taken the Kobyashi Maru and they had perfected since then. Nasar nodded, understanding the meaning of the signal in this context, and left the bridge in a hurry.

"May I speak to Commander Ambrose?" Pressley asked as the turbolift doors slid closed. There was another long pause. He moved across to the Flight Control station that was being manned by the Archer's Chief Flight Control Officer; Lieutenant Pel Amar; a Centauran. The Captain stood directly behind him and leaned against the back of the officers' chair.

"Commander Ambrose is in the Engineering section attempting to help disable the jamming field." Stated the scientist. "I have Doctor Vicenzo here with me."

"Put him on." Pressley ordered.

"Captain." Vicenzo spoke up. He could not put his finger on it, but Pressley could hear something different about the man's voice. It was very subtle and he would not have even noticed it but for the fact that every fibre of his body was screaming that there was something wrong with the entire situation.

"Report doctor." Pressley ordered.

"Sir, there are quite a few casualties over here." He began. "There are even more injuries. The invaders took the crew by surprise but their attack was quite brutal. With your authorisation, I would like to have some of the worse off beamed over to the Archer's sickbay. The station's own medical facilities have been badly damaged."

"How would we do that, Doctor?" The Captain asked, not really talking to anyone specifically. "We can't lock onto anything on the station."

"We're transferring the data on the jamming field to your science officer." Bannister spoke up. "If we set up pattern enhancers around the wounded that we would like beamed over, and you use the information to enhance your sensors, you should be able to get a lock."

Pressley turned to face Lieutenant Commander Merrick for conformation, which he received when she nodded. It was then that that Lieutenant Amar spun in his chair. Pressley held a hand up to the Conn Officer to stop him before he opened his mouth and reported the information he had just seen flash across his console. He looked down at the Centauran and shook his head. Although it did not look like he understood what the Captain was getting at, he knew what the Captain meant. He span his chair back around and kept working at his station.

"We have a lock, sir." Merrick reported. Pressley stepped back from the Flight Control position and stood in the centre of the bridge, just in front of his chair. Not for the first time in his career, he really hoped that he knew what he was doing.

"Have the wounded beamed to sickbay." He ordered, then sat down in his chair and waited.


U.S.S. Archer, Sickbay, Deck 8

"Incoming wounded being beamed directly to sickbay." Came the disembodied voice of Lieutenant Commander Merrick over the internal comms system. Doctor Pembridge and her medical staff worked quickly, making room for the new arrivals. Personally, she always hated being put in this situation. They had been told nothing about what was wrong with the "wounded" that were being beamed aboard, nor had they been told how many there were or how critical the worst of them was. Luckily, with the ship being at yellow alert, most of her senior officers were already in sickbay.

"Lieutenant!" She called out to Lieutenant Grace Truman, who was the Head of Surgery for the Archer. She was across the other side of sickbay gathering the supplies she needed. "Are you prepared for emergency surgery cases?"

"Yes ma'am." Truman called out.

"Brahn." She let Truman go and turned to her Assistant Chief Medical Officer, Lieutenant Commander Brahn Soloko. Not only was the Trill her assistant, but he was also inheriting the medical department when she left for Earth. For the last few weeks she had been letting him run more and more of the medical department aboard the Archer, but now that there was a possible crisis she was keen to reassert her authority.

"Yes Doctor!" He called out. He was working with a medical technician and a nurse setting up various biobeds.

"Are we ready?" She asked. She knew that they were, but she wanted to make sure that they were both on the same page.

"We're ready." He shouted back and immediately returned to work. Pembridge touched her comm badge.

"Pembridge to bridge, we're ready to receive the incoming wounded."

"Affirmative, standby for transport." Was the reply from Merrick. Within seconds Pembridge heard the familiar whine of the transport sequence as the wounded were beamed into the centre of sickbay. She knew there was something wrong as soon as their patterns began to form, but she had no idea what it might be. By the time they had materialised no-one had really had a chance to move.

It was at that point that all hell broke loose.