USS NAPOLEON – 2366.01.06 – 0900 HRS
The Memorial Service for the lost wolves was bitter. Many crewmembers were close with the fallen. During the eulogy, Claire cried like a baby. As she wiped her nose, Mario passed her a tissue. Claire sensed something in his manner, but passed it off to her emotional state. When the service had concluded, Claire walked around, chatting with the other squadron members, pilots and crew alike.
Claire was approached by the Mantoid pilot, "Greetings, I am Lieutenant Ccchhityruhj Kleeethyun, but you can call me Molly. You did well the other day. It prevented a greater loss," the green insect stated.
Claire was awed by her/it's faceted eyes and mandible jaw. Molly extended an odd, claw-like hand. Claire accepted, "Ummm, I'm glad we met. I've always wondered who you were."
Molly was from Gamma Hrujin IV and belonged to a race of sentient insects. She stood about five foot six on her six legs and ate stuff Claire couldn't begin to describe. Molly seemed friendly enough and they soon were talking about family. Molly was one of 100 hatchlings. Her parents ate a few of them, but the majority were able to pupate. Molly was very proud of her cocoon and hung it in her quarters. She always thought fondly of her days as a grub. Claire thought Molly looked kind of neat in a creepy sort a way.
"Would you like to see my cocoon sometime?" Molly asked sincerely.
Claire was a little nervous. "Uhh, sure. Maybe you'd like to see my Kabuto?" she added, referring to the gift from her sensei.
Molly chittered, "Maybe some other time. I'm full right now, but thanks for the offer." Claire looked perplexed. Culture was a difficult thing to communicate sometimes.
Later, back at her quarters, Claire thought of the death of her Grandfather MacGregor in Virginia. He was on a team that had been instrumental in developing matter-antimatter transport. She was eleven at the time and Little Joe was only eight. She remembered the service, with Grandma crying and the sound of bagpipes. Relatives from Edinburgh were there as well; all dressed in black. Afterward, there was something called a wake in which there was lots of eating and Uncle Angus MacGregor let her drink Scotch. Claire then thought of the dark days at the Academy after Andrew dumped her and the prodigious amounts of alcohol that she drank. She had been disciplined and may have even been expelled had it not been for Josh. Claire vaguely remembered the numerous times he kept her head from entering the toilet bowl after a bout with the bottle.
Claire dreamt of that day back in 2363, just after the start of their senior year. Things had not been going too well between she and Andrew. He had been spending more time away from her and she responded by becoming more possessive. They had had some arguments where Claire was accusatory. Finally, she confronted him at the reflecting pond, the site of their first romantic encounter.
"I just can't give you what you want," sighed Andrew, shaking his head.
Claire shrank back, "What do you mean by that? What kind of crap are you saying?" she shouted.
He put up his hands, "I'm sorry Claire. I can't do this anymore."
"Who are you seeing? Is it that Holly Jensen? That little minx!"
"No one," he insisted.
Furious, Claire got up in his face, "Don't you lie to me! We've been together too long!"
Caught, Andrew recoiled, "Okay, okay. It's Bombo."
Feeling like she had been struck by lightning, Claire's knees gave and she sank to the ground, "Wwaa, what? Bombo Jar…the Tellerite? Did I do something to make you hate me? Did I neglect you? Tell me!"
Her beau stood fast. He had decided his course of action for a week, "No, it's just the opposite, Claire. You're so controlling. You never listen to me. Bombo just let's me be me." With that he turned to leave, "I'm sorry Claire. We had some good times together. Really. You're so beautiful, but I can't be with you. You'll find someone who's right for you."
Claire sat on the ground in shock for nearly an hour. There were no tears, only disbelief. How dare he say she was controlling. She would MAKE him change his mind. Desolate, she thought about it for a while. Maybe she was controlling: she had even changed his major. But weren't they suppose to work things out. They had made dreams together. Claire picked up a stone and threw it into the reflecting pond. She stormed back to her quarters to change. There was a bottle of champagne that they had been saving for their graduation. She took a beautiful sabre off of the wall, a gift from her grandmother. With one stroke, she sliced the top off of the bottle and the frothing liquid spilled over onto the carpet. Taking a glass with the inscription, "Andrew and Claire", she consumed the entire bottle.
Then, she caught a cab into San Francisco. At the edge of the Golden Gate Bridge, Claire drank a bottle of Scotch she had bought at a liquor store. She was never much of a drinker and quickly became intoxicated. When she awoke the following day, her face was covered in dirt and her head ached.
Claire's dream ended as her alarm went off. While the dream was still fresh, she thought about those times and maybe it wasn't all Andrew's fault. She thought deeply back on how they met. It was during the warm summer of 2361, going into their sophomore year. Claire had met Andrew in the Physical Training IV Class at the end of their freshman year. The summer session left the campus relatively deserted as many cadets journeyed home. During a workout session at the mostly empty gym, Claire noticed Andrew checking her out. She had observed this during the last semester, but had been dating other cadets. They had been friendly, but not particularly close. During Claire's pull up set, she saw that he had a silly grin. After 18 pull ups, Claire dropped down and stomped over, "Okay, wiseguy, what's going on?" Claire had been known for her minor pranks and was not immune from retaliation. Even Andrew fell prey to the charcoal on the binoculars trick and the shaving cream in the shorts stunt.
"What? Me?" Andrew remarked innocently.
Claire raised an eyebrow, "Okay…see ya, Andrew," she replied with skepticism. Claire finished up with 150 pushups and then went to the locker room. While in the shower, she heard a noise in the room. Looking out of the stall, she noticed her towel was gone. Thinking she had forgotten it in her locker, she strolled back to her row. To her horror, her locker was open and all of her clothes were gone.
"That knucklehead!" she yelled. Frantically, she looked around. All the towels were gone too: that beat all. Water dripping from her body, she ran up to the door and peeked through. Sure enough, Andrew and five other cadets sat on lawn chairs with her clothes and the towels between them.
Seeing the door open a crack, they cheered, "Hey Claire, want a towel. You look a little wet. How about a drink," they shouted offering her a soda.
"You guys are going to get it!" she hollered, "Give me back my stuff!"
Andrew stood up and whirled her shirt around his head, "Come and get it." Claire blushed furiously. She had no choice.
A week later, she encountered Andrew in the chow hall. "So how's Lady Godiva doing?" he said jokingly. Claire just smiled and pointed her finger at him like a pistol and pulled the trigger. Andrew sat down with her, "Hey, sorry about that. I couldn't let you get away with the shaving cream thing." He then took a few bites of his kelp burger and his stomach rumbled. He stood up suddenly and ran for the bathroom, "Oh no," he yelled.
Claire chuckled, "Hey, no problem." The laxatives had done their work.
After Andrew had recovered, he took Claire out to an elegant dinner at Bella Rosa to call a truce. The candlelight and the minstrel band took Claire by surprise. On the shuttle ride back, he held her hand. They worked their way to the reflecting pond.
Then, the young ensign came back to reality. Sitting in her quarters, she shook off the warm feelings. She had hated Andrew for almost three years. It was part of her life.
USS NAPOLEON – 2366.01.17 – 1700 HRSThe presence of a carrier battle group convinced the Orions to depart the sector. Contact had been made with the Tholians to share information regarding the recent attacks. Through negotiations, a Tholian delegation was scheduled to arrive aboard the USS NAPOLEON. Captain Wallace had asked Molly to be present as she was familiar with the Tholians. Their species were very distantly related, however, the Tholians looked more like arachnids. Claire begged Molly to let her tag along, "I won't be any trouble," she added.
Molly nodded her insect head, "You need to dress up for the occasion."
At 1900 hrs the Starfleet delegation had assembled on the flight deck. Claire was in her finest uniform as was Molly. Molly's clothing had to be specifically tailored to fit her thorax and abdomen. On cue, an announcement came over the intercom, "The Tholian delegation is now landing." An unusual, teardrop, shaped craft entered the flight deck and set down. It was metallic red in color with a forward-facing canopy. Once the engines shut down, the shuttle door opened on the aft facing. Out stepped the Tholian delegation. They did look similar to Molly, but they were gray in color and had eight legs. Their heads were somewhat polygonal and their eyes glowed with a silvery light. They crawled over to the Starfleet delegation, which consisted of Captains Wallace, R'tan, Jellacic, and Stovani of the Battle Group. Commander Desree of the diplomatic corps was also present and, of course, Molly and Claire. CAPT Wallace saw Claire and gave her a slight smile. She had redeemed herself for her foolish stunt of breaking safety protocols.
Molly spoke a dialect of Tholian and made the introductions between the delegations. Defense Commander Yoruth of the Tholian Defense Force went through a complex greeting of his own. He inspected each member of the delegation with his strange, clawed appendage. When he got to Claire, she thought she was going to pass out. This is totally creepy, she thought. He ran his spider-like hand over her face. Molly instructed, "Just stand there. He's introducing himself." Claire just nodded shakily. His eyes glowed intensely, giving her quite a chill. Then, he backed away and spoke to Molly. The universal translator turned Yoruth's words into language they could all understand.
"The Assembly thanks you for sharing the information regarding the Orion attacks. We, too, had assumed that the other was responsible for the destruction. It would have been regrettable if we had come to conflict over this," stated Yoruth. CAPT Wallace nodded in agreement. After some more elegant words, the Tholian delegation departed. Tholians were noted for their punctuality and brevity.
As Claire departed the flight deck, CPO Tror motioned her over to her craft, "Ma'am, I just wanted to show you this," he said. He pointed to the side of her cockpit, where two gold stars were painted. "Ma'am, we got our first kills. You done me proud," he said.
Claire beamed with delight. "Chief, I owe it all to you. Let me buy you a drink," she said, escorting him to the lounge.
USS NAPOLEON – 2366.02.21 – 2200 HRSQuietly, the squadron had gathered in the lounge for an awards ceremony. A number of squadron members had received citations and awards, which were to be presented by Captain Wallace. Richly deserved, Lieutenant Commander Hood received a promotion to full commander. Even Claire was called. The Captain presented her with a certificate and a promotion to lieutenant junior grade. She blushed furiously, but accepted graciously.
Returning to her quarters, she examined her new rank in the mirror. She made sure it was polished to a brilliant shine. Just then, she got an outside call. Activating the intercom, she saw Chubb's furry face. He was covered in flour. "Hi ho!" he said, "I had a little baking problem."
Claire laughed, "I can see."
The furry guy blew flour into the air, "My strudel exploded and my pie fell. I'll just have to try again. I see you're still so skinny. Aren't they feeding you well?"
Claire nodded, "Very well. But you know me, I'm obsessed with working out."
Chubb smiled his goofy smile, "Me too, but only with running to the replicator. Ohh, I see you got promoted. You must be doing ok."
The new lieutenant nodded, "I'm doing well. Thanks for asking."
Claire had to ask, "Have you heard from Bombo?" There were some things she couldn't give up.
Chubb wrinkled his furry face, "Umm, yeah. She's like a distant cousin." He knew the score here. "You know, she broke up with Andrew."
"Hah, good for that slimeball… He got what's coming to him."
Her friend admonished her, "You know, all that being mad upsets the stomach. You should try to let this go." Chubb's words struck like lightning. For such a goofy guy, he could say some of the most profound things.
"Uhh, I'll have to think about that one, my friend. I have to go. You take care," Claire finished. Chubb waved a furry hand.
USS NAPOLEON – 2366.02.25 – 0800 HRS - BRIDGECAPT WALLACE, CO USS NAPOLEON, EYES ONLY
LT CDR ACHUA, INTELL OFFICER USS NAPOLEON, EYES ONLY
PRIORITY MESSAGE
SET COURSE FOR SECTOR FYH378, MELKOTIAN SPACE
STARFLEET INTELLIGENCE HAS DETERMINED THAT THE MELKOTS ARE EXPERIENCING AN INTERNAL DISTURBANCE, WHICH HAS GREAT POTENTIAL FOR INCLUDING FEDERATION ASSETS
THE MELKOTS ARE NON-COPOREAL ENTITIES, WHICH POSSESS GREAT PSIONIC POWER. THEY UTILIZE SEVERAL SUBJECT RACES TO PERFORM PHYSICAL TASKS AND TO CONDUCT HOSTILITIES. MELKOTIAN VESSEL STRENGTHS AND TECHNOLOGY ARE BELIEVED TO BE INFERIOR TO FEDERATION, HOWEVER, MELKOTIAN PSIONIC POWER IS KNOWN TO BE FORMIDABLE. DIPLOMATIC RELATIONS WITH THE MELKOTS HAVE BEEN FAVORABLE UNTIL THIS TIME
ESTABLISH PERIMETER AT THE BORDER OF MELKOTIAN SPACE. DO NOT INTERVENE. YOU ARE AUTHORIZED TO TAKE ANY DEFENSIVE MEASURES TO ENSURE THE INTERGRITY OF FEDERATION SPACE
STARFLEET COMMAND, THIRD FLEET HQ
END MESSAGE
The Carrier Battle Group set course and jumped to warp. Preparations were made and training was enacted, focusing the group for their mission. Upon arrival, three days later, the group set up its perimeter. VF 137, along with the other squadrons set up a combat patrol, scouting the nearby system for signs of activity. Claire did some research on the Melkotians. They utilized mostly small craft, piloted by other races. The Federation had not had many encounters with their psionic abilities, but they were known to be formidable. Lieutenant Commander Achua had shared much of the information on the Melkotians with Claire and she briefed the squadron.
Two days passed without activity, then, a SIGINT report was received indicating the approach of a Melkotian fleet; four ships, possibly destroyer sized vessels. The path of the fleet would take into Federation space. VF 137 was scrambled to intercept.
USS NAPOLEON – 2366.02.25 – 0800 HRS – BRIDGECaptain Wallace paced the area in front of his command chair. He was stocky and of average height with sandy brown and gray hair. The years of commanding a starship had added many wrinkles to his face. The fighters had been scrambled and all he could do is wait. Lieutenant Commander Achua analyzed the incoming data with SIGINT Officer Lieutenant Haley. Communications Officer Lieutenant Keropas turned to the Captain, "Sir, incoming message from the Melkotians."
Captain Wallace pointed to the screen, "Put it on."
A pair of eyes appeared amid a shimmering background, "Federation vessel. Four renegade Melkotian vessels are approaching our mutual border. We regret the inconvenience, but request that you direct them back into Melkotian space."
The Captain nodded, "I am Captain Wallace of the USS NAPOLEON. Your request concurs with my orders. We will gladly comply."
The Melkotian answered, "We send our thanks." The screen went blank.
"Relay this to Commander Hood; turn back the renegade vessels," commanded CAPT Wallace. Lieutenant Keropas complied.
Out at CAP Point Hotel, VF 137 circled, receiving the datalink from USS NAPOLEON. The four vessels were in bound at warp four and they would reach the border in approximately six minutes. Commander Hood relayed the message to the flight, callsign Sumo. The squadron would target the incoming vessels and fire torpedoes in their path to force them to drop out of warp. Claire, in Sumo 24, established a target lock on vessel three and waited.
Back on the Bridge, another incoming message was received. The incoming Melkotians had made contact. "Federation vessel. We are fleeing oppression. We officially request asylum," the Melkotian voiced in an eerie tone.
Captain Wallace sat down, "Damn, I knew it." Looking back up at the screen, he replied, "Negative. I have orders to turn you back at the border. Proceed no further."
"Then we will fight our way across. Move aside."
"Proceed no further or you will be fired upon," CAPT Wallace demanded. The screen went blank.
Tactical Officer Lieutenant Krasnowski advised, "Sir, they're powering weapons and shields. ETA three minutes."
Commander Hood could now distinguish a large, destroyer-sized vessel flanked by three patrol-sized ships. On cue, Hood gave the order to fire. Claire and Caveman unleashed their torpedoes. As expected, the ships dropped out of warp to avoid being hit. They performed a tactical split as VF 137 jumped in pursuit. The large vessel opened fire, hitting Sumo 33. Claire immediately launched all four of her missiles at vessel three in a spread. The ship executed a hard port turn avoiding one missile, but three slammed into its starboard side. Explosions erupted out of the ruptured hull as flames spread throughout the ship. Rancho also scored hits on vessel four. "Fox one kill on bandit three," Claire called out.
Suddenly, Claire began to feel woozy. She blinked as her vision became blurry. She tried to call out, but her mouth felt like it was full of cotton. Weakness set in and everything went black.