Chapter Four

Unexpected Delays

Captain's Log-Stardate 45661.9: After our encounter with the Romulans, we were able to establish peaceful relations with the Tar, a nomadic race. On a less encouraging note, the USS Santa Maria, a Nebula Class Research Vesicle, is two days late for our rendezvous. –End log entry

"S-sir, we're receiving a s-subspace distress call," Ensign Corvik reported.

"Patch it through," Beth responded since it was her shift.

"I-it's just the a-automated message: T-transmitting coordinates to h-helm."

"Receiving," Amber confirmed.

"What ship is it?" Beth asked.

"I d-don't know. The m-message is sc-scrambled in some p-places," he responded hesitantly.

"Ma'am? The coordinates point in the direction the Santa Maria was supposed to have come from," Tony reported.

"Can you confirm whether or not it was her?"

"No, ma'am. It's not conclusive enough to say one way or another, but it points in that direct."

"Helm, set course, Warp 7. Mr. Corvik, inform the captain. Miss Moore: Engage."

"Warp 7, aye. ETA is fifteen minutes thirty seconds."

"M-ma'am? The c-captain is on his w-way," Nathanial stammered.

"Good. Increase velocity to Warp 9."

"Warp 9, aye. ETA is five minutes ten seconds," Amber responded.

"Captain on deck," Tony said as his father walked in.

"Report."

"We received an automated distress call; we're en route, Warp 9," Beth responded as she stood up.

"ETA?"

"Four and a half minutes," Amber responded, glancing at Tony.

He was looking at his panel. "Sir? Would you take a look at this?" Tony asked. "It looks almost like Trans-Warp signatures."

"What?" Mike asked as he came over to look. "You think it's the Borg?"

"No, sir. It barely registers, but, even if the Borg past through here days ago, their signatures would still be perfectly clear."

"Is there any chance at all?" Beth asked, coming up on Tony's other side.

"Not that they attacked the ship, but, yes, there is a very small chance."

"Yellow Alert," the captain ordered, returning to his chair. "Scan the sector for any, and I mean ANYthing out of the ordinary."

"Aye, sir," Tony responded. "There seams to be a radioactive meteor that's scrambling the long range sensors," he reported a few minutes later.

"That's definitely out of the ordinary," Amber commented quietly.

"Yes, ensign, it is," Michelle said from her station, behind and to the right of the captain. "It's also not naturally occurring. It looks like some sort of sensor mask, but I can't scan through it."

"Isn't that the point?" Tony asked, tapping some buttons on his consul. "Now try."

"It looks vaguely like some kind of small ship."

"On screen," the captain ordered, and the screen changed from the streaks of stars to an unfocused picture of a meteor superimposed over a ship.

"What kind of ship is that?" Beth asked. "Is it Romulan?"

"Don't think so," Tony said studying a view screen on his consul. "If it was, it would probably just standard cloak."

"Confirmed," Michelle said, also studying her consul. "It's hard to say what it is, but it's not Romulan."

"Could be Klingon," Amber offered. "But then it would just cloak, too," she corrected herself.

"Yeah, but it's hard to tell, even through such an unsophisticated shield," Tony commented softly, almost to himself, still studying his consul.

"So, lieutenant, what do you think it is?" Mike asked straightforwardly.

"I honestly don't know, but it's not Romulan, Klingon, or Borg," Tony said, finally looking up.

"We're approaching the origin of the distress call: The USS Santa Maria!" Michelle reported a few minute later.

"Tony, Beth, get Away-Teams ready. Sick Bay: be ready to receive wounded," the captain ordered.

"Hazard Team to Transporter Room 6, this is not a drill," Tony commanded as he tapped is com badge. "Hazard Medics to Transporter Room 3."

"Tony, coordinate with me," Beth said as they boarded the turbo lift. "Deck 3."

As the silver-blue sparkles faded, the Away-Team was meat with a vision of destruction. They had beamed to the bridge; with its burned out stations, fallen ceiling panels, and other articles of debris.

"Away-Team to Commander Sommerfeld," Lieutenant Tony Sommerfeld reported, "transport complete. Ready to receive Medics."

"Acknowledged," the response from his badge.

"Coleman, Schreiber, Cunningham, check decks one and two for survivors," Tony ordered and the appropriate crewmen proceeded to the different access points. "Grippenstrow, see if you can get one of these consuls working. Everyone else, secure this location."

By the time Beth arrived with the Medics, Tony had the bridge and most of decks one and two secured. "Report, lieutenant," she ordered when the survivors in those areas had been treated.

"Billy Grippenstrow is still trying to access the ship's computers, with little success. He thinks they're coded somehow, but he doesn't know which code was used."

"Are there any indications of survivors on other decks?"

"Negative. But we're waiting for your approval to go look."

"Given."

"People! Split up into groups of three: Two standard team members, on Medic! Schreiber, Hunt, you're with me. Billy! You stay here and work on the computers!"

"Right! Try to stay out of the turbo lifts!"

"Okay! You heard the man! Move out!" Tony said as the Hazard Team moved toward the doors and Jeffery's Tubes. "Billy, you stay here with Beth."

"Sir, that ship is moving toward the Santa Maria," Michelle reported. "Its shield is beginning to scramble the short-range sensors." She glanced up at the main viewer as the ship became clearer but the screen itself grew fuzzy.

"Extend shields around the Santa Maria. Interceptor to Away Team." Mike's final words were meet by a series of beeps.

"S-sir, communications are being j-jammed," Corvik reported nervously.

"Thank you, ensign. Michelle, see if you can reconcile this situation. Captain to Engineering."

"Lieutenant Tompkins speaking."

"What's the status down there?"

"Fine. Yours?"

"This is not the time, lieutenant," Mike reprimanded sternly. "The exterior sensors and communications are inoperative and we have an Away-Team on a virtually undefended ship with a hostile closing."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. There aren't any major problems, just instrument error."

"Thank you. Collaborate with Commander Gambicorta and Ensign Corvick to resolve this."

"Aye, sir."

"Away Team to Interceptor. (silence) Away Team to Interceptor. (silence) Commander Sommerfeld to Captain Sommerfeld." She was starting to get frustrated. "Ensign, any progress?"

"Little. The encryption has a discernable patter, but it seems to have no significance," Ensign Gripenstrow said from his consol. "I've entered every decryption I've ever known, no effect. The computer's working, no response. I can tell that all the ship's functions are working, no access."

"The others are looking for more survivors. Maybe one of them will be able to help."

In Engineering: "Sir, I'm picking up a life sign; human. Very faint," Alex Hunt reported, tapping the screen on his tricorder.

"Location?" Drew Schreiber ask, moving out of the doorway cautiously. As he looked around, he saw something move. "Come out in the open! We won't hurt you!"

"Then lower your weapons!" a stern but shaky voice ordered.

"Jessie? Jessie Lewis?" Tony asked, lowering his compression rifle and stepping forward.

"Tony Sommerfeld?" he responded. "Lieutenant, stand down."

"Aye, sir." He then snapped to attention. "Stand down," he ordered the others, and the followed suit.

"Request permission to check for injury's," Alex asked politely.

"Permission granted," Jessie stated standing up shakily. "There are more survivors in the Jeffery's Tubes."

"Acknowledged," Tony said, motioning for Drew to follow him. "The entrance code isn't working,' he said after trying it a few times.

"Computer: Enter decryption code Lewis alpha bee eight. (Beeping noises, "Entered" from the computer) Now it should work."

"It does… Hey!" Tony exclaimed as he dodged a phaser bolt fired at his head. "What's the big idea! We're here to help!"

"Really? I'm so sorry! I didn't know who it was and Commander Lewis said to shoot anyone who opens the tube door before he contacted us! I am so sorry!" the petite brunet said as she crawled out of the Jeffery's Tube and gave him the rifle.

"It's okay. No harm done," Tony responded, sticking his head cautiously back in the opening. "Is there anyone else in here?"

"Depends who's asking," responded a gruff voice.

"Lieutenant Michael A. Sommerfeld, Jr., of the Starfleet Marines stationed aboard the USS Interceptor. To whom am I speaking?"

"Chief Engineer Lieutenant Commander George Carmichael."

"Anyone else?"

"The captain, who is in there, is unconscious," the brunet responded.

"And you are?"

"Lieutenant Sarah Garwood."

"Okay, Hunt, go help their captain. Anyone else here in engineering?" Tony asked as Carmichael climbed out of the Jeffery's tube and Hunt went in to help the captain.

"Ma'am?" Billy said to get Beth's attention. "I think the computer's working now, but weapons and shields are down. Looks like we'll need to put into a Starbase."

"Engines and sensors?" she asked as she sat in the captain's seat and started pushing buttons.

"Both functional but warp looks iffy. Forward view now on View Screen," he said as a warship came into focus.

"Tony! Get up here! Fast!" Beth yelled.

"On my way!" Tony responded through the ships speakers.

"As am I," a sluggish voice said weakly.

"Okay?" Beth responded, turning to Billy with a puzzled look. He just shrugged. "Contact the Interceptor."

"Yes, ma'am."

The turbo lift doors swished open and out stepped two men. One was Tony; he dwarfed the other man. He was about forty centimeters shorter than Tony, his head was shaved and he had a goatee. "Captain on deck," Tony announced as they stepped off.

"Captain?" Beth said, standing up. "I'm Commander Beth Sommerfeld. We have a little problem."

"I'm Captain Dennis Monroe. I already know," he responded.

"Sir? Billy Gripenstrow. The communication to the Interceptor is being jammed," Bill said, kinda worried.

"Yeah. See if you can correlate frequencies with her communications," Captain Monroe ordered.

"Hazard Team to the bridge; at your convenience," Tony ordered, taking his position at Tactical.

"Tony, weapons aren't working," Billy said, taking the helm.

"Why not? What's wrong?"

"Circuit failure," Dennis responded as three more Hazard people arrived.

"Nate, take Tactical. Billy, come with me," Tony said as he headed for the turbo lift.

"Drew, relieve me," Billy said as he followed Tony.

"Where would the circuit be?" Tony asked as the doors closed.

"Well…Engineering or a secondary weapons control station."

"Engineering," Tony said, as the lift started moving. "Replacement circuits?"

"An Engineering storage compartment."

"What about shields?"

"Irreparable."

"Well…where are the secondary weapons stations?"

"Decks 4, 6, and 10."

"How many stations are there?"

"Two or three on each deck."

"Six to nine!" Tony exclaimed as the arrived in engineering. "We better hope the problem is here."

"If it is, it should be over there. Look in that store room for new circuits."

"In here?" Tony asked, sticking his head in the door.

"Should be," Billy responded, removing a panel near the floor and sticking his trycorder in.

Tony found the circuits, but when he got back to where Billy was working, Billy said, "The problems not here, but I know where it is."

"Where?" Tony said urgently.

"Deck 10, Station 3."

"What section is it in?" Tony asked as they headed for the turbo lift.

"Section 6."

"Sir, the weapons are back on line," Ensign Coleman said.

"Good," Dennis responded as Billy and Tony walked back on the bridge. "Good job, guys."

"Thank you, sir," they responded in unison as they relieved the people at their stations.

"Location of the bogey?" Dennis asked Beth, who was manning the Science Officer's station.

"Fifty kilometers to port and closing," she responded studying her view screen.

"Weapons locked, awaiting your order, sir," Tony reported.

"Wait till they lower their shields to beam over, then put enough torpedoes into their hull to blow then out of this time continuum," the captain responded calmly.

"Aye, sir," Tony confirmed, giving Billy a half smile.

"Sir, they've stopped out of transporter range," Beth reported. "They're turning on the Interceptor!" The view screen showed some sort of unfamiliar warship pivoting to port.

"Fire!" the captain ordered urgently. He was meat with a volley of torpedoes and several phaser beams. The last beam resulted in a small explosion on its outer hull.

"Sir," Sarah, the communications officer, said. "We have established contact with the Interceptor." She had come to the bridge shortly before they had fired.

"Sir, the enemy's shields are down, but they're charging their forward weapons arrays," Tony reported, looking up from his tactical console. "It looks like that explosion we caused disabled whatever it was that was disrupting our sensors and communications."

"Why do you say that?" Dennis asked, going to stand next to him.

"Because the Interceptor is arming its weapons systems."

It had been more than an hour since they had lost contact with the Away Team and the bridge crew was getting nervous. Captain Sommerfeld was visibly restless: shifting in his chair, drumming hi fingers, asking questions he already knew the answers to. Amber was also nervous, but she was handling it better. Michelle had asked her to see if she could brake through the static with her navigational sensors. She wasn't having very much luck.

"Moore to Gambicorta," she said, tapping her com badge.

"Michelle here, go ahead," she answered.

"I've made some progress, I can now see the positions of the bogey and the Santa Maria. But I can't tell what's going on," she finished, discouraged. "Wait…sensors are clearing up."

"Forward view on screen," Mike ordered, almost jumping out of his seat.

"On screen," responded the ensign who was manning the science station, Ensign Tar'man. The view screen changed from the Federation logo to a worship bearing down on them. "Sir, they're arming their forward weapons arrays!"

"Tactical, target weapons control. Helm, bring us around, stay between them and the Santa Maria," the captain ordered with urgency.

"Sir, they don't have a centralized weapons control," Tactical reported.

"Then target the individual weapons arrays as they're being armed."

"Sir, the Santa Maria is arming phasers," Tar'man reported.

"What?" he asked as he spun around to face her.

"They're arming phasers!"

"Get me a hailing frequency with them."

"Y-yes sir," Ensign Corvik replied, a little off guard. "Frequency o-open, s-sir."

"Beth, I appreciate you're trying to help, but I think you should stay out of this," Mike said as a disruptor burst came flying at the screen.

"I can understand that, sir. But I'm not in command here," she responded hesitantly.

"Then who is?" he demanded angrily.

"I am," came an unfamiliar voice over the speakers.

"And who are you?" Mike asked as the enemy ship spun around to get a shot off with their port disruptors.

"Captain Dennis Monroe, of the USS Santa Maria."

A photon torpedo impacted with the primary shields as Mike responded, " Captain Monroe, I must ask you to stand down as your involvement in this conflict could result in the destruction of your ship."

"S-sir, the e-enemy ship is h-hailing us," Corvick interrupted.

"On screen," the captain ordered and the screen changed from an almost derelict warship to an intimidation alien sitting in a relatively untouched bridge.

"Intruder, surrender your ship or face the wrath of the Peripheral Fleet of the Imperial Con'Tar," threatened the (familiarly) backlit commander. To be honest, it looked almost like the bridge of the Romulan ship Car'Thein.

"We of the federation respect your space and will leave it as soon as we are finished with our rescue mission," Captain Sommerfeld responded confidently.

"That will not suffice. You have seen too much of our capabilities and, therefore, cannot leave."

"We will not surrender our ship, nor do we fear yours," Mike said defiantly.

"You should learn to fear that which is superior, Captain," the alien responded coolly.

"Sir," Michelle, who had come to the bridge during the dialogue, interrupted. "There are three more of those strange ships coming into sensor range."

"Thank you, commander," he responded calmly. "Captain Monroe, prepare to have your people beamed to the Interceptor."

"If you insist," came the agitated response.

"S-sir? T-transm-mision ended," Ensign Corvick reported as the screen changed to three ships of similar construction. One was considerably larger than the bogey they had engaged. The other two, one on either side of it, were somewhat smaller but still of considerable size.

"Oh, this is going to be fun," Amber muttered sarcastically. She knew she could maneuver the ship well enough to avoid fire from two enemies, probably three, but she wished Tony were there. She always felt better when he was there.

She wasn't the only one who wanted Tony there. His father did too. He wanted both his children there, so he wouldn't need to worry about them being on the Santa Maria and because they were better at their jobs than the ensigns filling in for them. "Transporter Room, are all the survivors aboard?" he asked, knowing his crew would come aboard with them.

"Yes sir," came the response. "So are own people. Commander Sommerfeld and Lieutenant Commander Lewis are on their way to the bridge now, sir."

"Okay. Thank you," he replied. "Ensign, remove the shields from the Santa Maria. Miss Moore, take us behind that big one." As they complied, Commander Beth Sommerfeld and Lieutenant Commander Jesse Lewis stepped off the turbo lift.

"Reporting for duty, sir," Jesse said, snapping to attention in front of his new captain.

"Perfect timing, commander. Take Tactical," he replied. About time we got our new Chief of Security and Tactical Officer, he thought to himself. "Target engines and life support."

"Aye, sir," the new Tactical Officer answered, pushing a series of buttons.

"Fire at will." The volley of torpedoes and phaser beams that followed was remarkable; no less than six torpedoes were hurled at each ship followed by eight phaser beams, first at the biggest ship than at the one to its starboard side.

"Miss Moore, bring us about. Mr. Lewis, cease fire," Mike ordered as two of the ships imploded.

"Nice shot," Beth said in awe. She knew her littler brother was perfectly competent Tactical Officer, but Tony cold never have done such an expert job on so many ships in such short a time.

"Thanks," he responded, knowing full well what she meant. He knew her brother while he was in the Marines. He wouldn't stand much of a chance in any kind of a man-to-man combat, but he could handle a ship's weapons better than his younger counterpart.

The whole bridge crew was impressed, but Amber was still uncomfortable. This new commander was…well…different. He was shorter than his two-meter tall counterpart but, somehow, felt more imposing. He looked like he could handle himself almost anywhere, almost arrogant. Tony just looked confident, almost like he always knew what he was doing but never really needed to tell you. She also knew Tony better, so that might have something to do with the odd feeling she had.

"Bridge to Hazard Ops," Mike said. He wanted to know more about these…Imperial Con'Tar and to do that he'd need to send in a boarding party.

"Hazard Ops. Lieutenant Sommerfeld speaking. What you need?"

"Get a team together, Tony. You're boarding one of the hostiles," Mike said, almost disappointed to hear his son respond. He was one of the few people who knew very much about his experience aboard the Borg vessel. He wouldn't talk about it to anyone, not even his own father.

"Yes, sir," came the reluctant response. Tony didn't want to go on a boarding mission, but he never disobeyed orders if he could help it.