Disclaimer: The captain, crew, and passengers (minus Bashir) are mine, the rest are not.
Chapter Two
"Nothing that old could have a very good weapons system, even if they tried to interface new technology with it," Julian assured the crew. The tiny cockpit was crowded with the six crewmembers and Dr. Bashir, and the doctor had a momentary thought concerning thrusting a certain Cardassian in here if he ever got out of line.
"Well, we have virtually no shields. We never need them, you know; we try to just pick the safest routes." He cleared his throat uneasily. "I'm afraid we'll have to surrender to them."
"Couldn't you at least ask them who they are first?" Julian protested. "It would be best to know who we're dealing with, in any case."
The captain shrugged, but nodded to the girl at communications, who worked frantically, trying to remember Morse Code.
"And while you're at it…" the doctor added.
The captain sighed. "Yes?" he asked tersely, wiping a sweat-line from his brow.
"I wonder if your scanners could find a name on the side of the ship."
He motioned to another of his men, who got to work trying to focus the old equipment on the charred and dented ship.
"We got a response, sirs."
"Who are they?"
"I'm sorry, lieutenant. All they would say was 'Your conquerors'."
"All right. Any luck with those scanners, crewman?"
"Not yet."
"They're powering weapons," an Andorian warned.
"Surrender to them!" the captain cried. "Immediately!"
"Sending the message, sir," was the prompt reply. "Message sent, and received. They are now instructing us to allow ourselves to be boarded."
Julian narrowed his dark eyes in frustration. Giving up without a fight seemed wrong, but there were innocent lives on board who should be considered, and it wasn't his ship or his decision, in any case. It was still with great discomfort that he listened to the captain explain the situation, and heard the passengers of the ship talking frantically amongst themselves. Some were crying.
One small boy was crying from pain, having banged his head against the wall in the energy wave. Julian saw to him. "Let me see that," he instructed the child's parents. "I'm a doctor."
He had his neatly-packed bag passed up to him, and busied himself with this one problem. Fortunately, it turned out to be a relatively minor wound. That way, at least, he could be doing something useful as the metallic thunk of the two ships merging resounded through the tiny ship.
"What's your name?" Julian asked the boy.
"M…Michael," he sniffed.
"Okay, you're going to be fine, Michael. It was just a bump."
As Michael nodded, somewhat reassured, the doors to the shuttle opened. Bashir turned around slowly enough that he hoped he wouldn't attract attention until he got a good look at the intruders.
They were definitely humans, all strong-looking and intense. Their clothing was very patchwork and torn, and their skin was tanned and roughened from sun-exposure. They seemed to come from some desert plant, but Bashir couldn't really tell which one offhand.
The group marched swiftly and almost noiselessly onto the transport ship, scanning for potential threats. Not a single one of the group seemed to have a phaser, however, including the doctor. Bashir mentally added that to his travel check list for the next time he went to a supposedly safe medical conference. The intruders seemed satisfied, and soon they parted for a man who Julian assumed was the leader.
He may not have recognized the others, but this man, supposedly long dead, was one that Julian Bashir would know anywhere, and for good reason. The face had haunted his dreams since he was a child, and the thought of this man plagued his existence. This man was Khan Noonian Singh.