CHAPTER TEN

Lieutenant Commander Janet Sunset stood paralyzed on the bridge of the Enterprise. To her, sounds had become muffled, and motion seemed to occur in a murky blur around her. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't even feel her own heartbeat. It was as if an ancient warrior from a rival tribe had reached into chest and pulled her heart out of her body. And now, he seemed to be standing over her, his evil grin taunting her as he held her still-beating and blood-drenched organ over her.

She had, of course, been prepared to accept the loss of personnel as a consequence of command decisions. But not even the fabled Kobayashi Maru simulation—the no-win scenario that struck fear into the heart of every Starfleet cadet—could have prepared her for the loss of the man she loved.

And she was not prepared to accept it herself.

"Get him back…" she murmured.

"Commander?" came Saallak's confused response.

"I said, GET HIM BACK!" shouted Sunset.

Sunset glanced around the bridge. Everything had returned to sharp focus. And she saw the looks of both confusion and pity on the faces of her crewmates.

"Commander…" Saallak repeated soothingly.

"Gods dammit!" spat Sunset. "What the hell's wrong with all of you?!" Her breaths came in deep, exasperated huffs as she tried—perhaps too hard—to steady herself.

"Prepare to fire photon torpedoes," barked Sunset. "Full spread!"

"JAN!" Saallak shouted much more loudly and insistently than Sunset had ever heard the soft-spoken Vulcan woman speak to her before.

Sunset turned to face Saallak. If the Vulcan had had a rare moment of genuine emotion, it had passed. She stood at her station as calm and serene as ever.

"He… is gone," said Saallak with finality.

Sunset slowly sank into the cushions of the Captain's chair. His chair. Her world was crumbling all around her. She tried to fight back the tears, but they gushed forth from her dark eyes nonetheless. She felt a comforting hand on her shoulder and glanced up to see her friend Saallak gazing at her with an expression that was the closest Vulcans came to consolation. Sunset reached up and gripped Saallak's hand as she wailed in sorrow.

At that moment, the bridge was as silent as a tomb at midnight. Some of the bridge officers looked to Sunset with a combination of sorrow and longing. Longing for her to offer them some sort of guidance in what had become their darkest moment.

Of all the crew, it was Mirgant who caught Sunset's eye the most. The Andorian woman must have known that Sunset had been staring at her longer than the others. Because she quickly wiped her eyes—had she been crying too?—and whirled around in her chair to her duty station at the helm, chanting what Sunset believed to be an Andorian prayer for the dead.

A violent tremor suddenly rocked the ship. Followed closely by another. The invisible enemy was back! Bairnson's plan—as insane as it was brilliant—had failed. And Jack had died for nothing!

"Shields down to 60%," reported Winston. "What are your orders, Commander?" Winston whirled around in his chair to face Sunset. She did nothing. Said nothing.

"Jan?" said Saallak, gently squeezing her hand to get her attention. "What are your orders?"

In a daze, Sunset slowly rose to a standing position and pressed the intercraft address system button on the chair's right arm rest. She spoke slowly, with great sadness. "All hands – this is the acting commander. Initiate emergency evacuation protocols."

She cleared her throat before adding, "Abandon ship. I repeat, abandon…"

"All hands!" came another voice over the speakers, cutting Sunset off mid-sentence. A joyously familiar voice!

"This is the Captain," it continued. "Belay that last order. Remain at your posts. I repeat, remain at your posts!"

"Jack?!" cried Sunset in disbelief. "Where are you?"

"In the turbolift," he replied. "I'll be on the bridge in five seconds. Have Helm initiate evasive maneuvers as best she can!"

Sunset glanced to Saallak, uncertainly. The look in her friend's eyes told her that she wasn't hallucinating. Saallak had heard the same words as she had! Sunset then turned her attention to Mirgant, who had turned in her chair to face her. Her aquamarine visage also carried a shocked expression, but her eyes gleamed with hope.

"You heard the man," was all Sunset could say.

The doors parted with their usual pneumatic hiss, and Captain Jack Bairnson stepped off the turbolift onto the bridge of the Enterprise. It felt as though he had been away for long time, which he had! Saallak stepped away from Sunset—who stood by the Captain's chair—and proclaimed his arrival.

"Captain on the bridge," she announced.

Sunset sprang from her position, rushing up the single step to the upper level of the bridge. She flung her arms around Bairnson's neck and buried her face in his chest. He could feel her trembling and she clung to him so tightly that Bairnson had to strain to take a breath. He wrapped his arms around Sunset in return.

After a few moments, Sunset broke the embrace. She gazed up into Bairnson's eyes, seemingly in disbelief. The redness and puffiness in her eyes told Bairnson that she had been crying hard only moments before. He beamed widely and asked facetiously, "Miss me?"

Sunset slapped him across his face. Hard.

The bridge officers, who up till then must have believed they were sharing a beautiful moment at the couple's unexpected reunion, quickly returned their attention to their duty stations with a low collective gasp.

"Don't you ever do that to me again," hissed Sunset.

As the stinging sensation slowly subsided from Bairnson's cheek, the only sound he heard was low "Daaaaaammnn…" from Winston.

Bairnson then returned his attention to his fiancée. He knew they were going to have a long discussion about this later – assuming, of course, later ever came. For at that moment, another tremor rocked the Enterprise. Bairnson ordered Sunset to assume the tactical station. And Sunset—now in full Starfleet officer mode—immediately complied.

"Shields down to 58%," reported Winston. Another tremor shook the vessel. "56%," he added.

"That's odd…" Bairnson commented as he made his way to the Captain's chair.

"You find it odd that our shields are failing?" queried Sunset incredulously.

"No. The percentage."

The expression on Sunset's face demanded that Bairnson explain himself. He told her that if their enemy had been firing their disruptors at full power, the damage to the shields should have been far greater.

"Disruptors?" wondered Sunset, with confusion. "You mean you think they're Rom…?"

"Damaged," Bairnson replied, cutting off whatever thought Sunset might have had. He then added, with relish, "More so than they'd like us to believe…" A smile slowly wormed its away across Bairnson's lips. The ship must have been caught in the T'Lajia's gravity well after all – even if only for a moment. But it was enough.

"Son of a bitch…" he marveled. "His plan worked after all…"

Saallak bemusedly opined, "Pardon me, sir. I believe the plan was yours, was it not?"

Another tremor rocked the Enterprise. Winston reported that shields had fallen to 54%.

"Never mind the semantics," Bairnson told Saallak. "We have to take away their advantage." Bairnson confidently took his seat and pressed the comm panel on the right arm rest.

"Bridge to Engineering," he called. "Ryan, you still with us?"

"You know it, Cap!" came Chief Engineer Ryan Johnson's exuberant reply.

"Good. Cause I'm gonna need you to work a little magic!"

It would be the biggest gamble of Jack Bairnson's life. Success would mean victory. Failure – oblivion.

But if there was any ship in the quadrant that could pull it off, he knew it was the Enterprise.

He asked Chief Engineer Ryan Johnson to reroute auxiliary power to the ship's main deflector dish. And, on his command, that energy was to be dispersed out ahead of the ship via the dish.

The still youthful Johnson was uncertain of exactly how much energy he could muster for Bairnson's plan, but he said that he would do his utmost. Bairnson reassured him that, if they were lucky, they would only need to do it once. He also told Johnson to give restoring power to at least one of the ship's rear phaser banks the highest priority.

Next, he ordered Curtis Winston and Thuroq Mirgant to fly the Enterprise to the same coordinates where the T'Lajia had been. Winston seemed confused by the word. Bairnson quickly corrected himself, calling it the wormhole-like phenomenon they had seen. Winston questioned whether flying toward those coordinates might somehow cause the phenomenon to appear again. If that happened, as Sunset pointed out, then both the Dräkmarian aid ship and the Enterprise could be drawn in.

Bairnson was certain that that wouldn't happen, but Sunset's remarks reminded him to adjust certain priorities. He ordered Saallak to open a channel to Commander Y'Gar on the Dräkmarian aid ship. Bairnson's long-haired, green-eyed Yarzonian first officer quickly appeared on the bridge's main viewer. Bairnson briefly summarized his plan to Y'Gar, telling him that as soon as the Enterprise reached the designated coordinates, he was to break off and head to Dräkmar IV at best possible speed.

"Understood, sir," complied Y'Gar. "But… what about you?"

A wry smile curled Bairnson's lip. "Careful, Y'Gar. People might start to think you actually care about me."

"I care about the Enterprise, sir. And everyone on it," he snapped. He then paused momentarily, before adding, almost imperceptibly, "The fact that you happen to among those people is just… fortunate happenstance."

Bairnson smiled. The pair had never been what one might consider "friends." But, if what Mirgant told him in the 24th century was any indication, Y'Gar most certainly respected Bairnson. If he didn't, why would he single-handedly mount a mission to find him after his disappearance? At that moment, the respect Bairnson had for his sometimes-abrasive Number One soared to new heights.

"You know that vaccine is more important than us, Commander," said Bairnson. "That's why I put my best officer in charge of it."

Y'Gar beamed proudly at Bairnson's unexpected compliment. Was it Bairnson's imagination, or was he actually choking back some tears? Finally, Y'Gar nodded with understanding, saying, "I won't let you down, Captain."

"I know," affirmed Bairnson, returning Y'Gar's smile. He then wished the Yarzonian good luck.

"And you… Jack," he replied before cutting the transmission. It was the first time he had ever uttered the Captain's first name.

Bairnson glanced around the bridge. All eyes were upon him. These people had been with Bairnson for quite a while now. They had grown from an upstart bunch of raw Starfleet recruits into one of the most highly effective crews in Starfleet. It had taken a while—and it wasn't without a few bumps and bruises—but Bairnson had come to regard them as his friends. In some cases, even his family. And now, here they were. Facing what could very well prove to be their final mission.

And in that, they shared a silent moment of unity.

Sunset finally broke the silence on the bridge, quipping, "Is it just me, or did anyone here even suspect that Y'Gar had teeth?"

"And quite impeccable ones," added Saallak with curious admiration for a Vulcan.

Bairnson and the other bridge officers turned their attention toward the Vulcan communications officer following her uncharacteristic and unexpected comment. After a moment in which she appeared to have been caught committing the cardinal sin of Vulcan—expressing an emotion—she quickly returned her attention to her station. After audibly clearing her throat, she added, "All stations report ready, Captain."

Another tremor rocked the ship.

"Okay," said Bairnson. "This is it."

He turned his attention to Mirgant.

"Helm," he nodded. "Take us in."