Story:Star Trek: Federalist/Falling Stars

"Very promising," Chief O'Brien focused on some scans on his display. "The graviton density couldn't be better, high coefficient of core stability, we're well within range of the first catapult."

Capatin Deet watched the Chief over the viwescreen, "Do you think we're ready to set up shop?"

"I do, Captain." O'Brien turned his focus back to the open communication channel, "We're going to conduct a few more in depth scans, but I think this is it."

"Excellent, Chief." The Captain nodded, "I'll inform the other ships to prepare to get to work."

"The first thing we're going to want to do is have a graviton aggregator node towed into a low orbit of the star." the old Engineer explained, "Good news is we've brought the node with us from home, so we can get straight to work without any fabrication."

"Flying it in place at a low orbit is going to present a piloting challenge. The gravimetric disturbance at that range will present difficulties." Aznia pondered aloud, "Commander Walesa, are you listening in?"

"Aye Captain," the Revere's commanding officer chimed in, appearing on the split viewscreen.

"I'm going to have you take the Revere to drag the node into orbit. You've got the most nimble ship in the convoy, and I certainly can't think of a better pilot. The Federalist could certainly do the job, but..."

Walesa interrupted, "...but you shouldn't get to have all the fun." She smirked, "We'll get the job done."

"Perfect." O'brien summarized, "We'll finish up our analysis, and plan on launching in, lets say, an hour."

"Very well, Chief." Aznia agreed. "Federalist out."

The hour passed, and the graviton aggregator node was jettisoned from the massive cargo hold aboard the Shepard and taken in tow by the Revere. Aznia reviewed the flight plan and other available data before issuing the command to proceed.

"Captain." Lt. Atom alerted.

Aznia walked over to the science station.

The Android science officer continued, "This scan shows a low level tachyon flicker around the star. In and of itself, it is no threat, but I cannot explain its presence."

"Tachyons?" Aznia questioned, "Could these be the result of some temporal anomaly?"

"We're not detecting any unusual temporal disturbances in the area."

"What about a cloaked ship?"

"The pattern is too scattered," the Android continued, "With a targeted tachyon beam scan, I can detect any cloaked object larger than two meters across."

"Make it so." Aznia continued, "And open a channel to chief O'Brien."

The Chief appeared again on the viewscreen, "Chief, we're detecting an unusual Tachyon flicker on some of the scans you provided. Have your people noticed this?"

"Yes, Captain. I believe its a natural effect; not unlike the naturally occurring tachyon eddies that occur in the Bajor sector. Perhaps a natural flow of particles fell into orbit of this star. In any case, we conducted a more in depth scan to check, and I don't see that they're any cause for concern."

Aznia turned back to Atom, the android had just finished his scan, "No objects detected, Captain."

"Very well," Aznia nodded in satisfaction, "Let's proceed. Open a channel to the Revere."

"Are we ready to fly?" Walesa appeared on the screen anxiously.

Aznia returned to her chair, taking a seat. "I think so Commander. At your lesiure."

The Federalist bridge crew all watched as the Revere descended into orbit of the superdense star. The ship navigated the gravitational turbulence with the aggregator tightly in tow.

"They've reached the target altitude," Atom reported, "Now they've just got to accellerate to the target speed and..."

A firey green flash drew the attention of the entire bridge. An explosion rocked the revere, tearing away a huge swath of its saucer section. Crewmen scrambled to scan and analyze what was happening.

"Federalist to Revere!" Aznia shouted into the comm system, "Come in Revere."

An unfamiliar voice responded through the static, "...heavy Casualties... losing... ...itude control."

"Can we get a tractor beam on them?"

"Negative captain, not from this range." Atom responded

"How about a transporter lock?" Deet pleaded.

Atom reponded, "Beaming lifesigns out now, but this is going to take some time."

"Deet to convoy," she transmitted openly, "Lock onto any lifesigns aboard the Revere and pull them out!"

After several minutes of frantic transporting, the Revere had descended to a point where it could no longer sustain integrity. The ship was torn apart piece by piece, eventually just disintegrating into the star below, and taking the aggregator with it.

"What the hell happened!?" Aznia shouted across the bridge, a rare anger in her voice.

The crew was silent, nobody had an explanation.

Aznia looked around in a furious frustration, expecting anything.

There was only stunned silence.

"Quallo, take command." Deet shifted her focus suddenly, "bring the convoy out to a safe distance. I'll be in sick bay."

Deet rushed to deck four and pushed her way through the doors of sickbay, she arrived to find chaos as the ship's skeleton medical crew worked to evaluate plasma burns and broken bones.

"Doctor?" she shouted over the crowd.

Doctor Egraw was focused on intensive triage, "Captain, this isn't a good time."

"I know, Doctor. But we need to get serious injuries transported to the Polaris. They're better equipped to..."

"Yes Captain," the Doctor interrupted, "I'll be sure to follow all established protocol, but I have people who need immediate attention. So grab a tricorder and help."

Deet was taken aback by the order, but she didn't argue. Deet grabbed a medical tricorder and remembered her basic Starfleet medical training. For at least 15 minutes, she worked to clear sick bay of minor fractures and superficial burns. Eventually the scene began to settle a bit.

"Captain, we've got everyone here stabilized." Egraw explained, "Permission to tranport to the Polaris to help out there."

"Granted. I'm coming with you."

"Captain," Egraw continued, "I am thankful for your help here, but shouldn't you be on the bridge right now?"

Aznia lowered her head for a moment. Nodding in resignation.

Egraw continued, "I will let you know immediately if I find Commander Walesa."

"Thank you, Doctor." Aznia looked directly into her large Saurian eyes. "Deet to transporter room, beam Doctor Egraw directly to the Polaris' sick bay."

With a swirl of energy, the Doctor vanished, and Deet was left to return to command.

Returning to the bridge, Deet was immediately confronted by Quallo, "Captain, we've determined it was a massive plasma explosion. And we think we know who was responsible."

"Plasma explosion?" Aznia was baffled, "Like some sort of warhead."

Atom turned toward the conversation, "The plasma exhibited a specific Romulan energy signature."

Aznia turned toward the Android with wide, firey eyes, "How?!"

"We do not know where the warhead came from and how it evaded our detection."

Aznia resigned herself to the lack of immediate answers, changing focus to the mission at hand. "How many survivors did we rescue?"

Quallo responded, "The convoy transported 89 individuals. At least 11 casualties from that group have been reported. At least 7 more critically injured."

"The Revere had a crew of 112." Aznia rest her face in both palms, exhaling deeply. "34 people..."

The moment of silence was interrupted by the chime of her comm badge, "Egraw to Deet."

"Deet here."

"I wanted to let you know that Commander Walesa is here on the Polaris, but she's been injured. Perhaps you should get over here."

---

Deet transported aboard the Polaris, Captain Tala met her colleague in the transporter room. "Captain, welcome aboard, I wish the circumstances were better."

"Can you take me to sick bay?"

"Of course."

The two officers traversed the corridoors of the Intrepid class Polaris until reaching it's custom fitted infirmary.

Teams of medical specialists worked busily on the worst injured from the Revere, on bio-bed one at the head of the infirmary, Span and Doctor Egraw stood over Commander Walesa's unconscious body. They turned to face Captain Deet.

"Captain." Span muttered coldly, the pain in his eyes struggling to conceal his Vulcan dispassion.

Deet gripped the Vulcan's arm, comforting her old friend. She looked down at her unconscious First Officer who had a large wound across the side of her head, and a covered, immobilized right arm. "How is she?"

Egraw explained, "A bulkhead on the Revere's bridge collapsed, striking her in the head and pinning her to the ground by her right arm. I've managed to save her arm, but the head injury is going to take some more time to analyze. We've reduced the swelling to stabilize her condition, but I just can't give a prognosis for recovery at this time."

"Have you determined the cause of the explosion." Span asked the Captain.

"Not yet," Aznia explained, "Though we believe the Romulans may be involved."

The news hit Span hard, he blamed himself, as it was his decision to send the Romulan ship to this region of space. "Captain, if you'll excuse me."

"Span, where are you going?"

"I need to..." he hesitated a long moment, "I need to speak to my son."

Aznia nodded. Span left the room.

"Captain, I have to be honest with you." Egraw explained, "These injuries are extensive. Even if she can recover, the road back to health is going to be a long one."

Aznia walked out of infirmary feeling sick to her stomach, she slowly strolled the coridoor with an empty mind, she rounded a corner and nearly collided with Calvin, Span and Walesa's son.

"Calvin." Span called from behind, "Please stop."

"He won't let me see mother." Calvin pleaded with Aznia, "Please let me see her!"

Aznia knelt down in front of the young crying boy, "You have to respect your father's wishes, Calvin."

"I apologize, Captain." Span explained as he approached, "I was just explaining..."

"Span, I understand." Deet interrupted, standing up. She held Calvin's shoulder both comforting and restraining the boy. She lowered her voice, "Don't you think he should see her?"

Span sighed, "I believe that will be emotionally overwhelming for him."

"For you too." Aznia challenged, regretting the comment immediately. "I'm sorry Span. You need to do what you think is right, but Calvin is going to need to face this sooner or later."

Span closed his eyes, nodding a moment.

"Captain, is my mother going to be alright?" the small voice pierced like an arrow through Aznia's heart.

She couldn't lie to the boy, but she could no more shatter his world. She looked up at Span with anguished eyes for a long moment, finally returning her focus to the boy, taking a knee to look him directly in the eye, "Calvin. I promise you that we're going to do everything we can for her. You need to be strong for her and for your father. For all of us. We're going to get through this."

The boy just nodded and turned back to his Vulcan father, reaching up to grab his hand.

"Thank you, Captain." Span murmurred as he escorted the boy down the coridoor, in the direction of the infirmary.

Aznia returned to the transporter room, where she beamed back to the Federalist. She made her way back to the bridge of her own ship, there she was immediately confronted by the Android science officer, "Captain, I believe I have some answers."

"What do you have, Mr. Atom?"

"Regarding the tachyon anomaly we detected earlier. I believe you were right. They are cloaked objects."

"I thought you ruled that possibility out."

"Unfortunately, our tachyon beam is unable to detect objects smaller than two meters across." he explained, "Something smaller, like a torpedo tube, could be virtually undetectable."

"You're saying there are cloaked torpedoes in orbit of the star?" Aznia questioned.

Atom nodded, "I believe so."

"Would it be possible to deactivate or detonate them?"

"I do not know, Captain. I suggest that we try to transport one of the devices out of orbit so that we can study it." Atom continued, "We can scan for the tachyon anomlies to triangulate the location of one, and transport it off the ship's bow at a safe distance."

"Very well."

Atom punched a few commands into the console, as a transporter pattern sparkeled on the viewscreen. Nothing appeared there.

"Where is it?" The Captain demanded.

"One moment, I believe it is still cloaked. If I hit it with a direct focused Tachyon beam, I should be able to disrupt the cloak."

The beam of light made the small tubular device materialize into regular space. An alarm beeped from the rear of the bridge.

"It's hailing us, Captain." Dewoh reported in confusion.

"Some kind of automated message?" Aznia pondered aloud. "On screen."

A recording of subcommander Eivek appeared, arrogantly smiling on the screen. "Congratulations, you've managed to capture one of our self-replicating warheads. Rest assured that you'll be encountering difficulties as long as you continue to try and proceed with your subspace catapult project. Everywhere you go, we'll be there. That doesn't mean I'll be without mercy. Should you choose unconditional surrender, I will... allow your crew to construct the catapult for the Tal'shiar, after which we can all return to Romulan space together. Once you decide to surrender, we'll be in the area."

"They're in communications range, but distant enough to avoid detection." Aznia deduced immediately. "How could they know where we were heading so exactly?"

Quallo raised an eyebrow, "They've been one step ahead of us at every turn."

"Awfully convienient, isn't it?" she turned her attention back to the warhead, "I want a full analysis in 30 minutes. Consult with Chief O'Brien, see if his engineers can think of anything. I want some solutions."

---

Deet met with First of Eight, Atom, Quallo and Cheif O'Brien in her ready room. Tension in the room was high, and the Captain needed some answers, "What have you found?" she demanded.

"It's like they're dredging up a ghost from my past, Captian." O'Brien explained, "I worked with a team that designed self-replicating mines to blockade the Bajoran wormhole during the Dominion war. These are very similar. Even if you destroy one or pull one out of formation, the others around it will replicate a new one to fill in the formation."

First of Eight added, "They've modified the original design by adding a cloaking device and a high yeild plasma warhead. We can't tell how many of them they've deployed in orbit of the star."

"If I remember correctly, the Dominion was able to bring the minefield down." Aznia recalled. "Do we know how that was done."

"That's the kicker," O'Brien explained, "They were able to disable the replication mechanism by bombarding the mines with anti-gravitons."

"Can we do something like that here?"

"No," the Chief shook his head, "We're working in a graviton rich environment, that's the whole reason we're here... Any anti-graviton beam we could generate would immediately be nullified by the graviton field surrounding the star. It took the Dominion months to formulate that solution, Captain. I can't put an estimate on how long it's going to take us to figure out a solution here."

Deet sighed with building frustration, she wanted to scream, but the dignity of her uniform prevented it.

"I would reccomend that we give up on this star, Captain. We can find another candidate." Atom suggested. "The fabrication team aboard the Wozniak has already begun constuction on a new graviton aggregator."

"No." Aznia immediately rejected the solution, "The Romulan ship has been one step ahead of us too much. I don't want them deploying these weapons in another star system, dragging us on a wild goose chase. We solve the problem here."

"Otherwise," Quallo interjected, "We bring the fight to the Romulans."

Aznia opened her eyes widely. The suggestion was tempting. "We're already down one ship. The Federalist is this convoy's last line of defense." Aznia grit her teeth and nodded, "I'd like nothing more than to see the Romulans brought to justice right now. But our priority has to be the safety of the convoy."

The room was silent for a long awkward moment.

"So that's it?" Deet prodded, "I guess we're at an impasse. O'Brien, Atom, First of Eight, keep working at disabling the mines. Quallo, make sure we're ready for battle should that become a necessity. Dismissed."

O'Brien, Atom and Quallo shuffled out of the ready room, First of Eight stayed behind for a moment. "Captain, do you have any update on Commander Walesa?"

Aznia folded her arms on the table and buried her head in them, after a few seconds she straightened up coldly responded, "We don't know if she's going to make it."

"Have you considered contacting the Rivary?" the Borg Engineer continued, "My understanding of their temporal confinement transporter suggests that as long as Commander Walesa is still alive, they should be able to restore her to a healthy form."

Aznia pondered the situation with wide eyes for a long second, "If I even knew how to find them, I'm not sure it would be appropriate to make such a request."

"They are in our debt, Captain." First of Eight reminded, "We haven't got any other friends here. There is no shame in calling upon them. The worst they could do is say no."

Aznia nodded, "But how do we contact them? They were quite secretive about the location of their homeplanet, they even used an encrypted carrier wave to send a subspace communique home."

"We return to the Nu Columba system. We found them there. They admitted that they had been studying the star. It stands to reason that they may be interested in continuing their studies."

Aznia sighed, "This a defensible location for the moment. I can't ask the convoy to run off and risk falling into another Romulan booby trap over the life of one crewman. We have to maintain our strenth in numbers and maintain position until we have some more definitive answers."

First of Eight nodded, accepting the Captain's judgement, she turned to leave thr Ready Room.

"First," Aznia stopped her Engineer for a moment, "Thank you."

---

Aboard the Polaris, Span worked in the infirmary, closely monitoring Commander Walesa's vital signs. He tapped at a console to adjust the order for her drug regimen. "We need to reduce the dosage of inaprovaline to reduce the stress on her circulatory system." he ordered to one of the nurses. "We'll have to carefully monitor the affect on her autonomic systems"

The doors to the infirmary slid open, Captain Deet entered, approaching the Vulcan doctor. "How is she doing, Span?"

"Her condition remains relatively stable, but there is no indication of increasing brain function." Span lamented, "We do not have much reason to feel confident."

"Do you think she's stable enough to move?"

"Move?" Span inquired. "What do you mean?"

"Do you think she would be safe to take a trip in the Captain's Yacht?"

Span raised an eyebrow, "I don't see why not. But..."

Aznia waved her hand, interrupting, "Span, I'm going to take Walesa and go to find the Rivary. They can help her. First of Eight suggested that as long as she survives, they can use the temporal confinement transporter to restore her health."

"Captain. I can not ask you to do that."

"You didn't."

"Let me go." Span virtually begged, "I can accompany her without putting you at risk. Please, Captain. This is my fault, it is only logical for me to bear the danger."

Aznia eyes softened with sympathy, "Span, this isn't your fault."

"I came up with the idea to push the Romulan ship into the graviton catapult, I stranded us here, I am responsible for the deaths of almost 30 crewmen. Please, let me do this."

"No." Aznia sternly demanded. "Span, this isn't your fault. You made a snap decision that prevented the catapult from falling into Tal Shiar hands. You safeguarded all of the lives on the Polaris in the process. You have acted with logic and courage, and I will have no more of your self doubt!"

Span was taken aback, it was a dressing down that he needed.

"This is my mission. I need you here, I need you to take care of the convoy."

"Very well Captain." Span acquiesced. "I'll get Elsie prepared."

---

Aznia gathered most of the convoy's officers for a large meeting aboard the Federalist. The cargo bay was full of starfleet uniforms from all divisions. Over 500 Starfleet officers waited for an address from the convoy's Commander.

Aznia stepped up onto a catwalk above the crowd, her unamplified voice ringing out across the room. "I don't need to say it, things are bad. We're stranded, we're cornered, and we're fighting for our lives. We had high hopes for this mission, but it has not been a smooth road. In spite of that fact, I have never doubted, even for a moment, that we will find a way to complete our mission. As dark and ominous as our outlook is, your distinguished service is a beacon that will guide us ahead. We cannot forget the ultimate sacrifice that 34 of our friends and colleagues have made, we will not allow them to have died in vain.

I've done a lot of soul searching regarding our next course of action, and it hasn't been an easy decision. Tomorrow at 0800, the convoy will depart this system and we will set a course for star system NGC 7212. It's not our top candidate to stage a catapult, but we're counting on the fact that the Romulans will not predict it as our next destination. Whatever happens, the important thing is that we remain together. We must stay strong. I have the utmost faith in you all."

Aznia stepped down from the catwalk, retreating into a service corridor. It was a short walk from the Cargo Bay to the loading area for the Captain's Yacht. A medical team was working to load Walesa's biobed into the ship. Aznia inspected their work, nodding in silence to Doctor Span before boarding the vessel. The Yacht was prepared for launch, and Aznia stepped through the main access door, before sealing the vessel shut, she turned back to Span and handed him a folded sheet of paper. In silence she raised her hand, making the traditional vulcan Live Long and Prosper salute, as the door slid shut in front of her.

As the Captain's Yacht detached from the Federalist's umbilicals, Span unfolded the sheet of paper, quickly reading the message. The Captain's Yacht quickly warped off, leaving the physical airlocks to seal behind. He tapped his comm badge, "Span to senior staff, please meet me in the observation lounge."

---

Span entered the observation lounge to find the senior staff waiting for him. "You've all heard the Captain's orders?"

"Yes sir, but..." Quallo began to object before Span waved his hand to silence him.

"We set course for NGC 7212, maximum warp. We have reason to believe that it will be a successful staging area." he shook his head in the negative, pantamiming another message to the crew.

First of Eight was seated the nearest to Span, while he was speaking, he tapped her shoulder, handing her the Captain's note. He then gestured for her to pass it around the room. Each of the senior officers began to notice what was going on.

After a few minutes, each of the crew had read the note while ignoring Span's misdirection.

"Does everyone understand their orders?" Span summarized.

Everyone nodded around the room.

"Very well. Dismissed."

The room cleared as Span sat for a long moment at the head of the table. He folded his hands in quiet contemplation. The Captain's note laid there, having served its purpose to inform the crew of their true orders in secrecy.

"To the Bridge Crew of the U.S.S. Federalist,

I fear that we are being surveiled by the Romulans in some manner. I do not know the extent of this surveillance, but I hope that we can get a jump on the Romulans through this misdirection.

NGC 7212 was chosen to give the Romulans a reasonably logical target for their next subterfuge. It will take them in the wrong direction. While they're sent on a goose chase, you lay in a course for Sigma Canis Major.

If things go as planned, I will find the Rivary, and we will all be back together soon. If not, know that I have complete faith in each of you.

This project is the future of the Federation. Build this catapult!

It has been an honor to serve with you all. You are beloved family to me. -Captain Aznia Deet."