Guthrie's party exited the Citadel. They'd travelled its corridors unmolested and could now contact the ships in orbit. T'Kir immediately tapped her comm badge.
"T'Kir to Obsidian."
"Obsidian here." Came the OPS Officer's voice.
"Patch me in to the transporter room." T'Kir instructed.
"Roger that." Came the somewhat harried reply.
"T'Kir to Telrik." T'Kir said.
"Telrik here." Came the Tellarite's gruff reply. The tone softened somewhat with his next words, "How can I help you?"
"We have a medical emergency." T'Kir explained, "We need to be transported to Sickbay."
"I'll alert them that you're coming." Telrik replied, "Stand by for my signal."
The advantages of being an Emergency Medical Hologram, Tessa decided, included not feeling fatigued or overwhelmed by treating nearly half the crew for injuries in just under an hour. That included the Captain, who was far more severely injured than any of her other patients.
She'd forced Daggit to accept treatment from a nurse. His injuries, while far from minor, were not life threatening. Macen's were.
His broken ribs and sternum threatened his vital organs while his concussion and case of shock could prove fatal at any moment. A humanoid body could only withstand so much regeneration in a day. Macen bones would be healed but his bruises, internal and external, would have to heal the old fashioned way…and he was bruised from head to toe.
The trauma team had to cut his clothes off of him and draped a sheet over him for modesty's sake. Seeing Macen's battered form naked nearly brought T'Kir to tears. She stoically swallowed her grief and stood by as Tessa explained everything to her. Her mind reeled with each new revelation.
Grace rushed into Sickbay and took T'Kir into her arms. She guided T'Kir to an empty chair and sat her down. She saw to T'Kir's own forgotten needs even as Tessa and her specialists saw after Macen…
Guthrie, Seemus, and Forthright were met in the corridor outside of Sickbay by Danan. She graced them with a warm smile, "You look a little lost."
"No, ma'am." Guthrie replied, "We know the ship's layout."
"That's not what I meant." Danan corrected him, "Follow me and I'll show you where you can settle and wait for the rest of your team."
"We really should be returning to the Hood…" Guthrie trailed.
"Captain Limerick has made an allowance for you to stay aboard long enough to greet our Chief Engineer."
Guthrie blushed, "Yes, ma'am."
"Good boy." Danan patted him on the shoulder, "Now if you three would follow me?"
"Sorry but it looks as though we won't be able replace the warp core anytime soon." Riker informed Limerick, "Our entire Engineering department is busy bolstering a nacelle brace and sealing a hull breach."
"But no one is EVA?" Limerick was concerned.
Riker shook his head, "No. From this point on everything is interior work."
"Good." Limerick decided, "Captain Hev of the Monitor has reported that four Conglomerate heavies are in bound. Our orders are to avoid engagements or entanglements with the local authorities. We'll have to tow you. We can still make warp three with the tractor beam engaged."
"Whatever works." Riker chuckled, "I just don't want to get left behind."
Limerick laughed, "No worries there, Commander. We're bringing you to DS3 whether you want to be there or not."
"We're all looking forward to it." Riker grinned, "Trust me."
"I'll leave you to it then." Limerick signed off and turned to Vaughn, "So neither Covert One or Two confirmed Sindis' death?"
"He's not dead." Vaughn grimaced, "Trust me on this."
"I do." Limerick admitted, "That's what depresses me."
"Cheer up, Merry." Vaughn extolled, "You'll get another crack at him."
"I suppose." Limerick said and then straightened up, "Prepare tractor beam!"
Vaughn smiled as his Elvin friend issued orders and prepared for departure. He exited the bridge and returned to his guest quarters. His bones ached and the doctor had been nagging him to get some rest. He'd done his part in the mission and it hadn't been good enough. Maybe it was time to consider retirement after all…
The Hood tractored the Obsidian and set out. The Monitor and the Merrimack went ahead of them to run interference. Half of the Rascals were deployed around the carrier and her wounded kin. The rest were on alert.
The squadron proceeded to Deep Space 3. They weren't harassed and they met no opposition. They simply disappeared into the night.
Sindis wandered around the vacated command bunker in the massive Citadel complex. He motioned for Gaston to attend him and the faithful lieutenant dutifully snapped to, "Yes, my Lord?"
"Any word on Annika Ryst?" Sindis asked.
"None." Gaston answered, "A runabout matching the description of her ship took off and departed the system while our forces were securing the planet."
"Pity." Sindis mused, "I suppose she's on her own then."
Sindis brightened and turned to Gaston, "Any word from the Syndicate dons?"
"Yessir." Gaston replied, "They are outraged at Starfleet's blatant disregard for interstellar law. They stand united behind you and look forward to your arrival."
This amused Sindis, "They really referred to a 'blatant disregard for interstellar law'?"
"Yes, sir."
Sindis chuckled, "Ironic coming from a criminal organisation."
Gaston grinned, "Yes, sir!"
"Come, Gaston." Sindis beckoned for the Lantilian to follow him, "There is always tomorrow. We have a coronation to prepare for."
"Yes, sir."
The following day found Macen sitting atop an examination table in Sickbay... His shirt was off and his body was an ugly purple/black/blue mass. He fidgeted while Tessa examined him.
"C'mon Tessa," he wheedled, "you've already had me here overnight. What else can you do?"
"I'm prescribing hot soaks, a highly modified regimen of exercise and stretches, and no strenuous activity of any kind."
T'Kir looked crestfallen at the last. Macen meekly acceded, "I don't feel like arguing much less disobeying."
"Good." Tessa huffed and deactivated herself.
A wry expression crossed Macen's face, "That's goodbye then."
"Shhhh. She can still hear you." T'Kir warned.
"So can I." Drake warned as the door finished cycling.
Macen scrutinised her wheelchair laden form and he knelt beside her, "Amanda, I'm so sorry."
"Ye gods, Brin," Drake chuckled darkly, "have you seen yourself lately? I'm the one that's sorry that you got ordered in there on my behalf."
"Amanda," Macen took her hand and squeezed, "I would have paid a greater price for you and never looked back."
Drake blinked back sudden tears and she looked up at T'Kir. T'Kir smiled warmly, "We all would have. But, just the same, I'm glad we didn't have to."
Drake unsuccessfully fought a sniffle, "All right. Put your shirt on. You look like a Jackson Pollock."
Macen slipped his Henley back on, "Do you have plans?"
"I plan on having lunch with you two." Drake declared, "And then we're going to inspect your guest suite."
Macen looked at T'Kir, "Do you have our bags packed?"
The Obsidian's crew was being housed on DS3 while the ship underwent repairs. The repairs would require two weeks. Macen had slated three weeks for their layover. They needed the rest, he'd decided. After that they were headed home.
"They're waiting at the airlock." T'Kir replied.
Macen kissed her, "Let's get going then."
Three weeks passed and the Obsidian passed her trials. The Outbound Ventures ship returned to Barrinor and her crew scattered. Macen and T'Kir took the Idiot's Delight and set course for DS9. After arriving, they paid a visit to Vaughn.
As the lift to Ops settled, Vaughn looked up from the report he was reading. Ruefully he asked, "Ro?"
"And Kira." Macen answered with an easy smile, "Want to talk?"
"Edgars!" Vaughn called out.
"Yo!"
"You have the watch." Vaughn informed him. He joined Macen and T'Kir on the lift and it descended.
Ro joined them at Quark's. They then proceeded to the holosuite containing Vic's Lounge. Vic Fontaine cut a jam session short to visit them.
"Hey Pallie," Fontaine said to Vaughn, "you've been hidin' out on me."
"I didn't mean…" Vaughn started to protest.
"Don't kid a kidder, chum." Fontaine warned, "You've been a Gloomy Gus and you're afraid this particular flashbulb is gonna cheer you up. Am I right?"
"You just sit here and order up." Fontaine urged, "Anything you want…on the house. Me and the boys are gonna continue with our little session. Don't mind us."
Vaughn reluctantly smiled, "I knew there was a reason I was avoiding this place."
"So what's on your mind, Elias?" Macen asked.
"Not wasting any time, eh Brin?" Vaughn chuckled mirthlessly.
"I really don't see the point in wasting time." Macen confessed, "So give."
"We've covered this ground before." Vaughn sighed, "I'm just wondering whether or not it's time to hang up my spurs."
"Let me ask you this: do you want Sindis to win?" Macen angrily asked.
"What?" Vaughn was startled.
"Do you want to quit Starfleet because Bertram Sindis has scared you into resigning?" Macen demanded.
"No." Vaughn growled.
"I didn't here that." Macen replied.
"No." Vaughn declared.
"I still can't hear you!" Macen yelled.
"No!" Vaughn yelled back.
"Are you a quitter?" Macen shouted.
"No!" Vaughn stormed.
"Are you gonna get the bastard?" Macen demanded.
"Yes!" Vaughn shouted from his toes. The cry for vengeance was plain.
Macen and Vaughn stood, eyes blazing, staring at one another. Macen spoke, "We'll get him. You and I, together, we'll take him down. He'll never do this to us again. Just don't quit. If you quit, you lose him. Understand? You'll lose him."
Vaughn's resolve was back and he looked forged from iron, "I understand."
"Then let's party!" Macen declared.
Harry Drumdore cautiously approached the office. He'd never done this sort of thing before. What if he were doing it wrong?
He hesitated. The sign on the door read: CELESTE ROCKFORD – PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR. Drumdore had checked up on Rockford. Normally there was a sign hanging on the door stating that Rockford was offworld on a case.
Drumdore considered himself fortunate that she was in. Her reputation was impeccable. Entire agencies survived off of the caseload crumbs she couldn't handle or accept. Drumdore prayed that she would hear him out as he opened the door. A receptionist took his name and a cursory outline of his problem and led him to a seat.
Fifteen minutes later, Annika Ryst appeared and stuck out her hand, "Hello Mr. Drumdore. I'm Celeste Rockford. How can I help?"