Chapter 4: Command Confidence

Lieutenant Commander Blake Marion wiped his damp hands on the black trousers of his uniform as he walked towards the bridge. He had just finished washing up from his last procedure of the day. Finally there were fewer patients requiring surgery that there were surgeons. The day had been tiring, not only had Marion set a new personal record for patients treated in one day, but all while this Dominion business was going on about him. The CO felt proud of his ship. The medical staff had preformed better than expected, treating more patients than the ships capacity, and Lieutenant Rosh said that the ship had achieved some sort of victory over the Dominion, in any case the XO had stopped the shaking in sick bay, and that was a welcome accomplishment. Marion came to the door of the main bridge and in an instant both sides had swooshed back into the recesses of the bulkhead.

"Captain on deck." Rosh stated, standing as he did so. Jordan remained attentively at the helm, while the Jem'Hadar were no longer a immanent threat, the violent plasma storms had not let up. Clark Franks had already accepted an invitation from Rosh to leave the bridge.

"I'm only a Lieutenant Commander, Mr. Rosh. No need for the fan fair." Marion said. "So, are we ready to head back to starbase?"

Rosh's professionalism both enraged and clamed him. He was angry that the Marion didn't know the condition of his own ship, but he was the CO and Rosh would not question any aspect of his command in front of junior officers. "No, sir. We won't know the status of our warp capability until Ensign Hudson and Chief Reilly restore an antimatter supply to the main reactor. Additionally, it would be imprudent to leave the Badlands until we ascertain whether or not the Jem'Hadar Battleship is still waiting for us at the perimeter of the plasma storms."

Though it tried his patience Rosh answered the ensuing questions, like 'why does the antimatter supply need restoring?' and 'you ejected a three year supply of our fuel into space?' Rosh kept his demeanor clam and recounted events as they transpired on the bridge since the Nightingale had left MN-1375.

"Well, good work then, Mr. Rosh." The CO said upon hearing all that had taken place. "And your skill as a pilot is to be commended Ensign Singer. You saved us all." Marion's voice seemed to slow, as if it was taking more and more effort to utter each word. The reality of the danger the ship faced was sinking in. More than that, the novelty of playing Captain was giving way to the burden of command.

Jordan did not notice any change in the CO; his attention was divided between navigating the plasma storms and attempting to suppress an ear to ear grin that had been creeping across his face since Marion accredited the Helmsman with saving the ship. Unlike the Ensign, Rosh noticed Marion's change in mood and was privately pleased the man was realizing how desperate the situation had become. However, that would not solve the dilemma they faced. The XO was certain the safety of the ship was up to him.

Almost before Rosh finished his thought Marion came out of his reflection and said "Can you show me a map?"

"Excuse me?" Rosh had not expected the CO's request.

"A map, or chart, or whatever you call it, of the Badlands and the surrounding area." Marion said, gesturing towards the view screen.

"Uh, of course." Rosh tapped several controls on the center chair's side panel, replacing the view of the violent plasma storms with a star chart of the badlands and the surrounding space. "There are the Badlands. Cardassia, Bajor, Starbase 375." Rosh said aloud as he pointed out the points of interest on the chart.

"Where is the demilitarized zone?" Marion asked, referring to an area of space that once constituted the border between the Federation and the Cardassian Union.

Rosh was astonished, how could the man not know that? "There in no demilitarized zone. The Cardassians are the Dominion's chief ally in this quadrant. The demilitarized zone was gone the day open war began."

"Well where was it then? Can you put that up on the chart?" Marion asked. Rosh touched a few more controls and the old demilitarized zone was superimposed over the chart. Marion smiled. "I remember now. There, take us right there." The CO commanded pointing to and area of the Badlands that was intersected by the old demilitarized zone.

Jordan momentarily looked up at the chart then returned his gaze to the helm. "Course laid in."

"I hope it's still there." Marion said quietly to himself.

"Hope what's still there, sir?" Rosh asked.

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"We were cutting it close to the wire there." Chief Reilly commented, laying the auto-wrench on the ledge of the antimatter pod storage bay before heaving himself up.

"Stream flow looks good. Could probably balance the matter/antimatter mix a bit better, but I'll have to do that in main engineering." Hudson's voice was distant, as he monitored the flow readings.

"You all right, sir?" The Chief asked.

"I just have a lot on my mind." Hudson said, "A lot of work to do."

"You look tired. Engineering isn't going anywhere, why don't you get some rack time?" Reilly suggested.

Hudson shook his head, "No. I should finish my work, every one else has given so much to keep this ship together. Some gave everything."

"Listen, I've seen a lot in my time in Starfleet, a lot of good and a lot of bad." The Chief paused, putting his thoughts in order. "When most people on this ship look back on today, they'll see what you see, the bad. They'll see the danger we were in, the damage done to the ship, and they will grieve over those who died. But that's not what I'll see. I'll look back and see an officer who made the hard choices, an officer whose decisions allowed me and everyone else aboard this ship to live. Don't punish yourself for doing the right thing."

Hudson picked up the auto-wrench and put it away. He caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the wall console and quickly averted his eyes to the deck. "I didn't even keep my promise to him." The Ensign said almost inaudibly. He then dragged himself up the latter leaving the Chief alone.

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Kizmet looked around the mess hall. The room could accommodate over a third of the Nightingale's crew at a time, but it always seemed packed. One reason may be that it was the closest thing to a recreational area that Nightingale possessed. It was also the only place besides sickbay that was equipped with replicators. Luckily for her, one of her friends, or at least a colleague, was sitting alone at a small table. "Sovek, may I join you?" She asked.

"If it pleases you." The Vulcan said, not looking up. Kizmet laid her tray on the table and sat down.

"Did all your procedures go well?" Kizzy asked.

"Considering the conditions, I provided the best level of care that could be expected." Sovek answered.

"I never imagined I'd be practicing medicine like this, in the middle of battles. I thought no one attacked hospital ships." There was frustration in her voice. The stresses of the day were beginning to break down her usual good humor.

"It is the Federation's policy not to fire on medical vessels, not the Dominion's." The answer was cold, but accurate, as Vulcans tended to be.

"But why are they putting so much effort into chasing one ship? What kind of threat could we possibly pose to them?" She wasn't expecting an answer; her mind was somewhere else, with someone else.

Sovek's mind, however, was in the present time and place. "You are trying to apply reason where none exists. Wars are an abandonment of logic in favor of pure will. My race was extremely savage and warlike at one point in time. When we turned to logic, war became obsolete."

The Vulcan's words provided no comfort, and Kizmet hoped that Jacob's ship was doing better than her own. She said nothing more, but instead commiserated over her fiancé while she pushed food around on her plate with out eating. Sovek was content that the conversation had reached completion and resumed consuming his own food.

"Am I intruding?" Esco asked, his skin still the dark tanned hue that match Kizmet's own.

"Not at all." The female doctor replied. "Doctor Sovek, this is Esco, our first patient to reach full recovery, and from a ruptured stomach no less."

Sovek took stock of the new comer as he took his seat. "I am not familiar with your species, Mr. Esco."

"Nevlian." Esco answered, picking up a brownish chip that crunched as his bit into it.

"Excuse me, what is that you're eating?" Kizzy interrupted. "Is that…is that wood?"

Esco looked down at his tray. "Oak, elm," the Nevlian pointed out the chips as he identified them, "and this is a guilty pleasure of mine, maple."

"Curious." Sovek said, which drew looks from both Esco and Kizmet. "All trees indigenous to Earth."

"I served there for quite some time, and I became partial to the local cuisine so to speak." Esco explained, popping another wood chip into his mouth. "As Doctor Kizmet is aware, one of my stomachs produces highly corrosive enzymes that allow me to digest food like this."

Kizmet's mind had temporarily forgotten her worries, at present her curiosity for Nevlian physiology pushed all other concerns out of her head. "What is your home planet like? Zosonpang, my home, is closer to its star than Earth is to the Sun. To adapt my people have deep tans to protect us from our star's radiation. I can only imagine what conditions gave rise to your immune system, the dynamic pigmentation, and your ability to digest wood."

"Those traits were developed by evolution, Doctor Kizmet, not adaptation." Sovek pointed out.

"Yes, but isn't evolution just adaptation on the grandest scale?" Kizzy reviled in this sort of conjecture.

Esco then stepped in and ended the debate, "I have no home planet." He said flatly. "At least, I have never met a sole who could tell me where my race originated." The subject was obviously a source of pain to the Nevlian. A silence hung awkwardly over the table until Esco spoke again. "Doctors, could either of you arrange a meeting for me with someone in the command staff?"

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"Good day, Mr. Franks. Some close calls we had there." A crewman said, greeting his superior officer.

"What does that mean? It wasn't my fault, what did you hear?" Franks snapped.

Stunned and having no idea how he had offended the helmsman the crewman's jaw dropped and he was barely able to respond. "I didn't hear anything, sir. Honest, I was just trying to be friendly." The crewman was then left alone with no explanation as Franks stormed off to his quarters.

Lieutenant Junior Grade Clark Franks was third in command of the Nightingale, right behind Lieutenant Rosh. But now even he was questioning if he deserved the position. A day ago, an hour even, it all made so much sense. He was the lead helmsman. He was the department head for propulsion. And now, he was a failure.

Sitting alone in the dark in his quarters, Franks relived the same moment over and over, his moment of failure. He didn't understand. He had done everything right, hadn't he? Graduating in the top third of his class at the academy, all that hard work the first two years of his career, being appointed to his position on Nightingale, all that counted for some thing, didn't it? Or did all that just not matter after you put a hole in the side of your own ship?

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Jordan entered the large shuttle bay. On the starboard side of the bay he saw his roommate standing just behind the McCoy, staring at the bay door. "Hey Hud, what are you up to?" He said walking towards him.

"Some disruptor fire must have gotten through the shields." Hud said pointing towards one square foot hole in the corner of the bay door and a scorch mark on the deck leading to the McCoy's starboard warp nacelle. "It's superficial, this door is the thinnest part of the hull."

"You know you look like hell." Jordan said, noting the soot that covered his roommate's face and uniform.

"I look better than you." Hudson ribbed his friend, who still had dirt and dried blood caked all over him. Then, feigning annoyance he said. "Aren't you supposed to be on the bridge?"

"The Chief relieved me, said I should come check on you." Jordan explained. "Did you hear how I pulled Franks off the helm and out maneuvered the second assault ship?"

Hudson smiled unconvincingly. "It sounds like the front suits you, Jordo. Do you finally feel like you're making a difference?"

"Well, yeah. But you are too, Hud. Chief told us about you fighting the fires and all that." Jordan said, not understanding his roommate's mood.

"Who did I make a difference to? To the crewman I ordered to his death? To his family?" Hudson's voice grew quiet and distant.

"To everyone else on this ship, to everyone else's families, that's who." Jordan's words sounded familiar, as if they had once been Hudson's own.

"Maybe, but it still feels like one life short of a victory." The two left the conversation there as they were both distracted by the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Jordan." Doctor Kizmet said walking up to the two of them. "Jordan, could I ask you a question?"

"You just did." Jordan said turning towards her. His heart sunk when he saw her face, she always seemed more beautiful than the last time he saw her. But he couldn't for get how… betrayed he felt.

"I guess I did." Kizzy laughed with a slight unease. She couldn't tell if Jordan was trying to be funny or rude. "I was wondering if you were ok. A crewman said something happened on the bridge, that other officer was upset about something, France is it?"

"Franks, actually." Jordan didn't know what to make of her. It was hard keeping up a grudge with someone who was checking to see if he was alright.

"That's right." Kizmet said.

"So that's what you wanted to know? If I was alright?" It was the perfect end to his day. Jordan almost forgot she was engaged. "I'm fine, great even. Thanks for asking Kizzy."

"That's good. I'm glad." Kizzy felt relieved. This was the Jordan she had met several weeks ago, nice and polite. He reminded here a lot of Jacob. She figured it would be safe to ask him. "Hey, there's this Nevlian, Esco. He's an intelligence officer, a patient of mine, and he was wondering if anyone in the command staff would talk with him. He thinks he could help."

Jordan's high spirits plummeted. "A favor, that's what you came here for." Jordan shook his head. "Excuse me. I really need a shower." He them stormed off to his quarters.

"Jordan! What did I…" She called after him. "What did I say?" She asked quietly to herself.

"It's not you." Hudson said from behind her. "It's Jordan. By the way, I'm Matt." He extended his hand.

"Kizmet." She said shaking his stretched out hand. "I just thought it was important. Esco made it sound important."

"I'll let someone know." Hudson assured her. "And don't worry about Jordan. I've known him for four years and, well, there are some things he hasn't quite figured out yet." Hudson signed. "He'll come around, just give him time to get over himself."

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Hours later the Nightingale had reached the area Marion had indicated. "Odd." Rosh said from the port station. "There is a divergence in the storm's energy field. It looks like and area of calm space."

"Eye of the storm?" Chief Reilly speculated.

"No, that's it. That's where we're going." Marion said from the command chair.

The Nightingale approached the unusual area of energy divergence. It was not until the ship was quite close that the object causing the divergence revealed itself. There, hung between the plasma fields, completely unmolested by the violent energy columns, was a rogue asteroid. Sprouting out of it in all directions were pointed metal towers.

"Those towers are bleeding charge off of the asteroid." Rosh said monitoring the sensor readings. "They're stopping any formation of plasma columns in the immediate vicinity."

"Like lighting rods." The chief commented.

"I think we should be safe form the Dominion here, at least for the time being." Marion was feeling quite pleased with himself.

"We might be able to scavenge parts from that thing to help us with repairs." Reilly suggested.

The Nightingale was close enough for Rosh to conduct a more detailed scan of the asteroid. "There is an artificial Oxygen/Nitrogen atmosphere inside the asteroid. I'll put together an away team to investigate." Marion smiled and nodded at Rosh, and the XO had to admit that the skipper had come through. At the same time, Rosh had questions, and he feared what the answers could mean.

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Steadying his shaking voice Hudson tapped his comm. badge. "Adkins, have you tried the other emergency lever?"

"Sir, do you mean the one on the other side of the hatch?" Adkins' voice came through with an obviously confused tone. "Wouldn't that close me in?"

"Get that hatched closed, Mr. Adkins." Hudson's voice trembled as he spoke. "Get it closed or we're all dead."

The crewman was silent for a moment before responding. "Sir, if it's not too much to ask." His voice finally came. "After the fire is out, could you check if you don't hear from me? See if I'm alright?"

Hudson then felt something hit his shoulder, and Jordan's familiar voice saying, "Hud, wake up." Hudson was pulled back into consciousness, dropping his PADD as he did so.

Jordan stooped down and recovered the PADD for his friend. "Here you go."

"I ran into Lieutenant Commander Marion." Hudson said lethargically. "Told him about that Nevlian."

"Who?"

"Esco, the Nevlian Kizmet told us about."

"Yeah, whatever." Jordan said rolling his eyes. "Pull yourself together, Rosh is heading this way."

"Have you compiled a list of materials Engineering is lacking in their repairs?" Rosh asked Hudson as he came near the two ensigns.

"Yes sir." Hudson said offering the PADD to the XO.

Rosh glanced over the items on the PADD, and then looked over the Chief Engineer. "Mr. Hudson, when was the last time you slept?"

"I'll be fine, sir." Hudson replied.

"That's not what I asked." Rosh snapped. "Get some sleep. Mr. Singer and I will be able to locate the items on your list, assuming they're there." Rosh instructed, handing the PADD to Jordan.

Hudson did not want sleep. He needed to keep his mind occupied, so it didn't wander back to the Jefferies tube, and the order. "Sir, I would really rather…"

"I don't care what you would rather do, Ensign Hudson. I am ordering you to go to sleep. Is that understood?" Rosh commanded.

Hudson nodded and dejectedly left sickbay. Rosh then walked to a console that stuck out of the forward most bulkhead of the large room. It was the transporter control console. Another feature that set the Nightingale apart from other Federation ships was that the transporter system was integrated into the deck and overhead of the medical facility. This reduced the energy consumed in transporting new patients requiring treatment directly to sickbay. Rosh entered the coordinates. "Energizing." He warned Jordan, who stood up straight and slightly braced himself, as most people did just before dematerializing.

The room began to shimmer and when the effect died away the room had changed from the spacious sickbay to a small passageway with bare rock walls. The two officers walked a short distance down to a large door with keypad next to it.

"Looks like Federation technology." Jordan said pointing to the door's keypad. Rosh touched a control and the door opened. Jordan immediately put a hand over his mouth and nose, "What is that smell?"

Rosh did not react to the stench. He stepped in to the enormous room on the other side of the door, taking in all he saw. Lifeless bodies where all around, sitting at tables, lying on cots, collapsed in front of computer consoles, even strewn around the floor as if they had fallen dead right in that spot. "Find out what species they were." Rosh commanded.

Jordan pulled a tricorder from its holster on his belt. Flipping it open he took a quick survey of the corpses closest to him. "Humans, there's a Tallarite, several Bajorans."

"All Federation races." Rosh observed. "See if you can find any thing from Ensign Hudson's list." Rosh's questions were beginning to be answered, but all the evidence was pointing to the answer he feared most.

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"It's such an easily correctable flaw; we exploit it only when necessary." Esco said as he modified the sensors from the port bridge console. "At impulse the warp nacelles of Jem'Hadar ships vent small amounts of trilithium."

"That'll let us locate the Battleship from anywhere inside the Badlands." Chief Reilly commented from the helm.

"Then we can just slip out the other side." Marion said smiling. "Good work, Mr. Esco."

"That should do it." Esco tapped a few more controls, and then turned to the main view screen. When the sensor display appeared on the view screen, all three men's jaws dropped to the floor.

The bridge was silent save for Chief Reilly uttering two words, "My god." Nothing else was said for some time, they all just stared.

"It's my fault." Esco said quietly.

Marion looked at the Nevlian, whose complexion had paled to a whitish gray. "You're only the messenger Mr. Esco." The Doctor then sighed, as if he had taken a large weight upon him. As he left the bridge all he said was, "I'll be in my quarters."

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Jordan carefully stepped around the lifeless bodies on the station as he navigated his way back through the large main room. Earlier he had accidentally backed into one, and let out an audible yelp as he backed away, kicking at it. He felt foolish for assaulting a corpse, but had no desire to inadvertently come into contact with another. He breathed a sigh of relief as he exited the room to the empty hall he and Rosh had originally beamed into. He walked down to the other end, which terminated in a similar door.

"Find anything we can use?" Rosh asked as the Ensign walked through the door. The XO was standing at a computer terminal, sharing it with the dead body of a man that had collapsed seated in front of the console. To Rosh's back was a railing. Beyond it was a cavern that housed a large piece of machinery with thick cables feeding into it from all directions.

"Some, but not much. We can scavenge from their hydraulic systems, computer hardware, and maybe take some things apart for scrap metal. But, their power systems are really weird. I can't figure out what's feeding energy into them. There's no antimatter of fusion reactors, this place doesn't seem to have a single plasma conduit, there's nothing that will help us repair Nightingale's port warp nacelle." As Jordan delivered his report, he never took his eyes off the strange apparatus suspended in the center of the cavern. "What is that thing?" He finally asked, not able to fathom its purpose.

"That is why you haven't been able to find any parts compatible with our power systems." Rosh answered. "Look at this." He said, calling something up on the computer.

Jordan took a few tentative steps toward the terminal, trying to peer around the dead body without getting to close to it. Rosh looked back at the Ensign, then shoved the corpse onto the floor and sat in the chair it had occupied. Jordan stepped around the body and stood looking over the XO's shoulder.

The computer displayed a cross-section of the asteroid showing the spires and the station hidden inside. "It's brilliant. Those spires don't just protect the asteroid from plasma columns; they use the charge differential between the plasma fields to power the station. As a result the station's power signature is identical to that of the plasma fields."

"That would make it really hard to detect this place on long range sensors." Jordan observed.

"It makes it invisible. Nightingale didn't detect anything until we were almost on top of it." Rosh corrected him.

"Why would the Federation build something like this?" Jordan asked.

"It wasn't the Federation."

"But it's all Federation technology, and all these dead people are from Federation races, who else could it be?"

"The Maquis."

"You mean the Federation citizens that lived inside to old demilitarized zone?"

"They gave up their citizenship by refusing to be relocated when the demilitarized zone was established. They took up arms against Starfleet, Ensign. They're terrorists." Rosh called up a new set of files on the computer. "This station was known as 'Haven'. It's all here in their logs, Haven was the last hold out of the Maquis."

"What happened? Did the Dominion kill these people, like they did the rest of the Maqui?" Jordan asked.

"Indirectly." Rosh explained. "They were waiting for a supply ship when the war began. It never came. They began to starve to death. Eventually, that man on the floor released a poisonous agent into the air to stop the suffering. Luckily for you and me, the atmospheric filters have since removed the agent from the air."

Jordan thought hard, it didn't make sense to him. "Sir, if this place was designed to stay hidden, how did the skipper know where it was."

"Good question." Rosh replied.

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"Surrender." Sovek suggested.

"Surrender?" Marion had not expected the Vulcan's recommendation. He had asked to consult with Sovek for two reasons, Vulcan's were renowned for their ability to use reason in the most unreasonable of situations, and Sovek was a fellow physician, Marion understood him far better than he understood the Starfleet personnel aboard the ship. "Do you really think that's best?"

Sovek laid out his argument. "You have told me that there are ten Dominion ships searching the Badlands, presumably for us, and you doubt we can slip out of the area undetected. We are severely damaged, and even if we make full repairs the Nightingale could not outrun any of the enemy ships. Logic dictates that surrender is the best hope for survival."

Marion stood up and looked out his cabin window. The plasma storms were both wonderfully beautiful and horribly dangerous. They were like command, such a wonderful honor and a horrible burden, so much relied on Marion's next decision. He sighed and turned back to the Vulcan. "Perhaps you're right."

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Upon returning to the Nightingale Rosh headed straight to his quarters. He needed some time to think. There was no doubt in his mind now; Lieutenant Commander Marion's knowledge of this station could not be explained away, nor could it be justified in Rosh's mind. All of his questions had been answered save one, what to do about it?

The door chimed. Rosh considered not answering it, but he could not ignore his duty, even if he expected that another did. "Enter." He said, prompting his door to open.

Clark Franks stepped through the door and came to attention. "Sir." Franks had planed on asking for forgiveness, beg if need be. But standing there in front of the XO his resolve abandoned him.

Rosh was still lost in his own thoughts, hardly noticed the long moments of silence that past between the two. "What is the penalty for failing one's duty?" He finally asked.

The question hit Franks like a strike to the gut; it took some effort to respond. "I suppose it would depend on the failing, sir."

"I'm trying to understand it all." Rosh said, talking to himself more that the JG. "Should the person's intentions be considered, or are the results of their actions all that matters?"

Franks felt himself being torn down. Was his failure unforgivable? It was only a mistake, but one that could have destroyed the ship. Franks forced himself to speak, "Sir, about my performance on the bridge…"

"What?" Rosh asked pulled out of his own deliberations.

"When I…" Franks inhaled deeply. "When I hit the plasma column, sir, I would like to express just how…"

Rosh cut the JG off, "You will not resume your helmsman duties until we leave the Badlands. In the mean time you will assist Ensign Hudson in coordinating the repairs." Rosh handed the junior officer a PADD. "You can start by organizing some of the engineering technicians to scavenge the items off that list from Haven station."

Franks was surprised. He thought that he would be punished severely; he thought he may have ended his career, especially after what the XO had said about duty. "Aye, sir." He said, before turning to leave.

Rosh sensed his subordinate's confusion, and stopped him before he left. "Mr. Franks, I wasn't speaking of you earlier, I was just thinking out loud. You performed as well as most anyone would considering what we were up against, I will not hold a simple mistake against you."

"Thank you, sir." Franks said, his confidence coming back to him.

"You have duties to attend to, dismissed." The XO responded. Franks nodded and left. Rosh had made up his mind, and he too had a duty to attend to.

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"How do I break this to the crew?" Marion asked. "It won't be easy."

"You are searching for a way to save people's emotions. I do not have emotion, and can not offer counsel in this matter." Sovek replied.

Before Marion could speak again the door chimed. "Yes?" He called. Rosh stepped into the room. "Ah, Mr. Rosh, I wanted to speak with you."

Rosh noticed the Vulcan doctor. "May we speak in private, sir?"

"Not necessary, Doctor Sovek is fully aware of our current situation." The CO replied.

"Our situation?" Rosh asked.

Marion was taken aback; the XO seemed to know all things about the ship at all times. "We're surrounded." He explained. "A patient helped us modify the sensors. Ten dominion ships are searching the Badlands for us. We're beaten, we have to surrender."

"Surrender? Never, we have to run. We have to fight!" Rosh retorted.

"Run and they will catch us. Fight and they will destroy us. Surrendering is the logical course of action." Sovek said.

"Two Excelsior class ships, each with a crew of over five-hundred, were destroyed so that we could survive, the patients aboard this ship fought the Jem'Hadar on MN-1375 until they physically were unable to, and you want to surrender? Where is the logic in that?" Rosh yelled at the Vulcan. He then turned to his Commanding Officer. "And you, you are a traitor!"

"Because I won't thow away the six hundred lives on this ship in an impossible fight? Because I am considering surrender?" Marion asked, standing as he did.

"Because you are a member of the Maquis!" Rosh hollered.

"Could you please excuse us Doctor Sovek?" Marion asked the Vulcan.

"As you wish." Sovek responded, leaving the room.

"I am not a member of the Maquis, Mr. Rosh."

"Then how did you know the location of their secret base?" Rosh pressed.

"Before this assignment, I was the administrator of Federation Medical services on Alpha Centauri. I'm not a political man, I never have been. I didn't really follow the situation in the demilitarized zone, it was light years away. I didn't think it would ever affect me." Marion took a couple of steps to a large painting of the Nightingale, displayed prominently on the way. "However, my sister, she got swept up in all of this Maquis business. I stopped hearing from her one day, I never got a reason. I figured she was busy on her starship somewhere off in the cosmos. Then one day, out of blue, she shows up at my doorstep on Alpha Centauri. She tells me of people suffering and in need of treatment. She asked me for help, and I agreed. She took me here, to this station. I treated the sick and injured and I left. Does that make me a terrorist Lieutenant?"

"How many of the people you healed went on to kill again?" Rosh demanded. "Did you know the Maquis used chemical weapons against Cardassian worlds? They made them uninhabitable. I wonder if anyone you treated was involved in those attacks."

"I've never thought of it that way." Marion said quietly, running his hand across the inscription in the frame of the portrait. It read, 'Do No Harm'. "As a doctor, a life in jeopardy is placed in front of you and you save it. That is all I know."

Rosh realized the man had no grasp of what he had gotten himself into with the Maquis. "Maybe you aren't a terrorist," Rosh conceded, "but you are a fool and unfit for command."

"I'm reluctant to argue with you. I was set to retire before I was offered this assignment. I only accepted because Bill Ross was my roommate at the Academy. He said it would be a favor to him."

"Bill Ross? As in Admiral William Ross, Commander of all Starfleet forces in this sector?" Rosh was astonished that Marion and Ross had anything in common.

"He is that, and a good friend." Marion sighed. "I'm trying to do the right thing. I don't want anyone to come to harm. Surrender sounds like that answer."

"Why do you suppose the Dominion is putting so much effort into hunting us down?" Rosh asked. "A hospital ship is not something they would normally put this much energy into finding. We have something that they want, and surrender will be freely turning it over to them."

"What could we possibly have?" Marion asked.

"Probably something they didn't find on MN-1375. One of the patients, or something they have, I'm not sure, but I know we can't give it to them. And we can't just turn all these people over to the Jem'Hadar. Do the right thing; give me command of the Nightingale." Rosh urged.

Marion turned to the Andorian and looked him directly in the eyes. "It's true I know little of commanding ships, but as a doctor I have learned a few things about people. Almost everyone on board has questionable confidence in our ability to make it out of the Badlands alive, me stepping down as Commanding Officer will do nothing to make that confidence grow. I'll make a deal with you. If we ever make it back to Federation space, I will turn myself in as a Maquis collaborator, until that time you help me do this job. Teach me what you know."

Rosh considered the offer carefully. "You say there are ten ships looking for us?"

"That's right." Marion said.

Rosh put his hand on the Commanding Officer's shoulder. "Lesson number one: you are a Starfleet Officer. You never surrender, no matter what the odds."