To the Stars our Fate

[sunnywigan]

Hi,
This is my first post here on Scifi Meshes I hope I am doing this right. Here we have the first few segments of a story I am working on To the Stars our Fate, set in the Star Trek Next Generation era of Star Trek. I am still working on the images (using Poser 6&7, Vue and Painter X) which I intend to illustrate the story with. I only have a few Trek meshes at the moment though so going is slow and I am still pretty new to 3D art in general... I will post some of my images as soon as possible.

Thanks for looking,
Marc





To the Stars our Fate
1

Typhon Expanse, Typhon Sector. April 17th 2295

It had been almost seventeen minutes since life support on the USS Isis had begun to fail, the last volley from the Zinti cruiser, and most of the crew of the Excelsior class starship were already unconscious or lapsing on the brink of oblivion. The bridge had seen better days, sparking wires and ODN relays hung from almost every conduit, casting eerie shadows on the now poorly lit command deck. Oxygen and life support were almost depleted and the few officers on the bridge who were conscious found themselves unable to do a damn thing about it. Soon it would be all over and the running battle with the Zinti at an end for good.

Captain Rachel Shepherd found it getting harder to breathe with each passing moment and fought tooth and nail with every will of her being to stay awake. All around her Rachel could see that her trusted friends and colleagues were succumbing to the lack of air and she silently prayed that the end would come quickly for them. Her eyes felt heavy like lead curtains trying desperately to close and she struggled to keep them open, sleep was ebbing every closer and seemed welcoming but she knew deep down in her soul that if she slept she would never wake.

From the corner of her eye she saw a flashing light on the command console of her chair, blinking in her peripheral vision, a light that should not be flashing but given the amount of damage the Isis had taken it was only natural that the ship itself would die along with her crew. Deep down in her very soul Shepherd heard a voice telling her to pay attention to the flashing icon and her years of training and experience fought against the will to sleep and took over.

A weary hand reached over to the console, deprived of precious oxygen it could be the last action she ever did. The warning claxon sounded once again shattering the stillness of the bridge…”Warning…Five minutes till total oxygen depletion… Warning… Five minutes till total oxygen depletion.”

As suddenly has it had begun the dulcet and emotionless tones of the computers feminine voice stopped, leaving an odd thought at the back of Shepherds mind... were Federation computers programmed by Vulcan’s? Seconds later the bridge was silent again, the only noise breaking the taciturn stillness was the occasional spark of an ODN relay.

Shepherd took a deep breath of stale air and looked around the bridge, her helmsman Lt Hiro Takashi was out for the count and she noticed a slight smile on his face, something that brought a little comfort to the captain, she prayed that the young man would at least die happily. On the helm console in front of Takashi two small icons flashed in sequence bringing Shepherd crashing back to the current predicament. Shepherd knew every inch of her vessel as well as she knew her own body and struggling to stand she forced herself to cross the two meters to the helm. Each step was like a thousand knives digging into her very soul, it would be easier just to flop back down and succumb to the inevitable, but her years of training wouldn’t let her and Shepherd reached the console a few seconds later and gently moved the young lieutenant to one side to look at the readings. A spatial anomaly had appeared some fifty kilometres off the starboard bow. The readings showed that the anomaly was giving off very high tachyon bursts and time itself seemed dilated somehow, something that was a theoretic impossibility but then again space was vast and the impossible not unheard of. The anomaly was showing all the signs of being stable and what’s more the sensors indicated that on the other side of this strange phenomena was not one but three Federation signatures, albeit strange ones that she was unfamiliar with. It was a long shot but if she could manoeuvre the Isis into this rift, then there was a very slim chance that her crew may yet survive.

Shepherd cleared her throat to speak to the computer and found her voice rasping like a serrated knife down the side of a plumbing stone.

“Computer… Could we manoeuvre the Isis through the anomaly at bearing 22.3.00?”

Instantly the emotionless voice gave its reply

“Odds on USS Isis surviving transfer through spatial anomaly are 1000-1 against. Suggest alternative approach too…”

Shepherds hand silenced the computers tones from the helm console and she thought silently to herself that if she ever got out of this she would have a word with those idiots at Starfleet HQ about the bedside manner of their computers.

She still had quarter impulse power showing on the board and though the rest of the crew were either dead, or dying; it would only take one person to navigate the huge Excelsior class vessel the few kilometres to the mouth of the anomaly. Her fingers worked as fast as she could move them, deprived of oxygen for so long every movement was agony and a supreme effort for her to manage, but she entered the coordinates and punched the panel with her fist.

”Warning…Four minutes till total oxygen depletion… Warning… Four minutes till total oxygen depletion.”

The vessel moved with the skill and grace of a wounded Tarkarin Hippo but slowly began to close the distance between it and the mouth of the spatial rift. Shepherd leaned against the console trying to stop her head from swimming, but could feel her eyes closing.

“Computer transmit emergency SOS when we enter the anomaly on all frequencies… We may be lucky and someone may be listening!”

The vessel moved closer and closer to the wormhole and Shepherd noticed that the strange and somehow beautiful sight of the anomaly was now dominating the entire view screen. She wondered to herself as she watched the sway and eddy of the blues and yellow hues if this is what heaven really looked like…


Six Days Later
Starbase 307 the Present

Rachel Shepherd opened her dark green eyes and looked up into the face of an angel, serene and peaceful but not quite what she had expected. This angel wasn’t all glowing like the images her mother had littered all around the family home back in San Francisco, no this angel had blue skin and tiny little buds sticking out of the top of her head through a mess of perfect white feathers. Deep back in her mind Shepherd came crashing back to reality with a bump as the young Andorian nurse smiled warmly at her.

“Stay still captain, you have taken a pretty bad beating recently.” The woman looked down at the captain with the clearest blue eyes she had ever seen; still smiling she ran an unfamiliar looking instrument over her body.

Moments later another face joined the Andorians and a bright light in each eye suddenly blotted him out.

“You gave us quite a run for our money there Captain Shepherd. It was touch and go for a while, what with the oxygen deprivation, but we seemed to have you over the worst of it now.” The man smiled warmly though seemed very nervous if not anxious, as if he wanted to be elsewhere.

Rachel pushed herself up with her elbows and felt her head swim slightly, but after a few seconds her vision cleared again and she looked around the sickbay and was shocked. This was obviously a Federation sickbay the insignia was present and it matched the design of those she had seen so many times over her years in Starfleet, but the equipment was much smaller, and had a somehow different look to it, that caused her to wonder where she was.

“My crew? How many.. how many made it?” she coughed finding the sound of her own voice almost alien to her.

The man was wearing a strange uniform with a Starfleet insignia on the breast and his smile faded.

“I am sorry to say that eighty-seven of your crews compliment died in the attack on your vessel, and a further thirty-two died from oxygen starvation, but the remaining five hundred and eighty-one of your crew are well and adjusting!” With that his voice trailed off and he went silent.

“Adjusting?” Shepherd could hear the harshness in her tone of voice and instantly regretted it.
The doctor coughed nervously and cleared his throat and looked down at his instruments.

“Commodore Harrison will be in shortly to debrief you.” And with that he spun on his heel and left the sickbay.


…..

“So you see the dilemma Captain Shepherd, you, your crew and your vessel are stranded here in the 24th Century. It isnt the first time it has happened the USS Bozeman suffered a similar experience almost ten years ago.”

The Bozeman that was Morgan’s ship, a very old friend and colleague who she had been close to for a long time, but since her posting to the Isis had more or less lost touch with.

“The Bozeman? What happened to it? How is Morgan?” Her mind reeling with questions that needed answering.

Commodore Harrison sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose, his eyes closing as if in deep thought. The man suddenly looked much older than he had when Rachel had first been shown to his office, which made even the state room on the Isis look like a closet. Harrison wiped the corner of his eye as if moving something from it and clearly upset he looked again at the young captain.

“The Bozeman was part of the fleet that met up with the Borg at Wolf 359 several years ago and she along with many other fine vessels suffered terribly at the hands of the Borg. Most of her crew perished, including my wife Lisi, and Captain Bateman was crippled trying to ram that damn cube. The Bozeman is permanently docked at Starbase 12 now, she’s a museum ship”

Shepherd could see that Commodore Harrison was clearly upset by the mention of this battle with whatever force the Borg was, and decided to change the subject.

“So is that what will become of the Isis? Relegated to little more than a fairground attraction for cadets?” She said with a bitterness she instantly regretted.

Harrison shook his head and handed over an electronic data slate to Shepherd, she took it and looked at the information that was scrolling down at an alarming rate.

“That captain is a list of casualties from the front line, the Isis may be out of time, but every single vessel is needed right now, everything we have needs to be thrown into the war effort.”

Confused slightly Rachel placed the pad down on the polished surface of the commodores desk. She caught a quick glimpse of her reflection in the mirror like surface and for an instant thought that she looked as old as the stars themselves. Her long auburn hair was beginning to show the first signs of greying, and her deep emerald eyes, normally sparkling with life and inquisitiveness; seemed lacklustre.

“The Zinti? Are we still fighting against them, I thought we had them on the ropes?” Her voice tinged with frustration.

Again Harrison shook his head, his mop of almost white hair shaking down over his face.

“No. no the war against the Zinti was over shortly after the Isis disappeared in the Typhon system, in fact the Zinti are now part of the Federation and one of our keenest assets in the war effort. Sadly Rachel this war is far worse, the war against the Zinti was little more than a skirmish, even though people died. The Dominion however is a different story entirely!” When he finished speaking Harrison stood up and stretched his legs and turned to a computer console behind him.

“Computer display first battle of Chin’toka time index 60.333.” Instantly the screens Federation logo was replaced by an image of total carnage. Shepherd watched in stunned silence as several vessels that matched Klingon configurations were rammed in what could only be described as suicide attacks by smaller vessels of a configuration that she didn’t recognise. The scene continued and more and more vessels were destroyed as Shepherd watched the screen. The Klingons fought valiantly alongside Federation vessels and three vessels of another unknown configuration, only to be destroyed by orbital weaponry on a scale that Shepherd had never thought possible.

“This was four months ago, and we only just managed to survive by the skin of our teeth. Computer freeze playback.” Harrison walked over to the screen and tapped against the image of one of the small vessels that had been seen moments before ramming the Klingon ships. “This is our new foe, the Jem’Hadar, genetically breed super-soldiers, the foot troops of the Dominion and one hell of a thorn in our sides right now. We need you and your crew back in the fight captain and we need you out there as soon as possible!”

Rachel Shepherd didn’t need time to think, didn’t need time to ask more questions, all she needed was to get back to the Isis and do what she did best.

“When do we start?” Came her simple reply.

Harrison smiled warmly for the first time since she had been introduced to him and handed her another data padd, this one contained her briefing and much more.

“The Isis is being refitted as we speak, she will be ready to leave by the end of the week, I suggest that you and your crew bring yourselves up to speed with the Dominion and its tactics, out of time or not we need your help. You have been assigned quarters on level seven along with the rest of your crew.” Harrison then reached into a drawer in the desk before him and pulled out a small gold and silver badge in the same shape as the Federation arrow, made famous by the Enterprise so many years ago and adopted as the main form of identification ever since. “This is a communicator, not like the old ones your used to I know but you will get used to it I guess.” He handed the small device to Shepherd and she placed it mirroring the one that Harrison wore on his uniform.

“If there isn’t anything else commodore I would like to be excused I have to speak with my crew and need to arrange a memorial for our dead if that’s possible!”

Harrison nodded his head once again and sighed, obviously having suffered the same dilemma himself on more than one occasion and recently too. As she turned to leave the room he cleared his throat.

“There is one thing captain. Welcome to the 24th Century!” With that Shepherd left the office and set off in search of her own people.


2

1800hrs Docking bay 44 Starbase 307

“A captain of a starship has to perform many duties during their career, from first contact to weddings and beyond, but the hardest duty that ever befalls us is to preside over a funeral and even more so when disaster falls upon us like a thief in the night. One hundred and nineteen of our friends have died. One hundred and nineteen families souls lost in the dark. One hundred and nineteen souls soaring now with the Great Bird of the Galaxy, at rest; at peace eternally. It is those souls we honour today, those who we called friends, those who we worked with, played with, loved. We honour them with our thoughts, we honour them with our prayers, but above all we will honour them with duty. We find ourselves out of synch with time, adrift and alone in a universe that is unfamiliar to us, yet our loneliness is shared and now we are a family more so than ever before and families look after each other. So we take comfort in the fact that one hundred and nineteen souls will live on in our actions, and as such never truly die!”

Of all the speeches she had given over her twenty years in Starfleet as a commander and captain this was the hardest. Rachel Shepherd fought hard to maintain her composure as she looked around the docking bay that had been turned into a makeshift morgue. Row upon row of coffins lay neatly laid out in front of the gathered survivors of the USS Isis, each person present touched by the loss of friends and colleagues. Each of the pristine white coffins was covered with the standard of the United Federation of Planets, a testament to the men and women who had given their lives for the future of the UFP. Of course when one puts on the uniform of a Starfleet officer one knows that at some point there may come a day when you may have to die for what you hold dear, but you hope and pray that the day never comes.

Rachel Shepherd stepped down from the podium as the youngest surviving member of her crew Ensign Lars Anderson stepped up by her side. Anderson, a young man on his first cruise who had ended up caught up in the middle of the Zinti war, fresh from the Academy and as green as grass. Now he looked like a middle aged man, the past few months had taken their toll on the many barely into his twenties. The ensign was short and stocky and very quiet spoken to those who got to know him. Standing to attention he raised a small whistle to his lips and blew into it softly. The sound of over five hundred feet snapping to attention rented through the stillness of the docking bay like a thunder clap on a summers night.

Lars Anderson lowered the whistle from his lips and taking a breath he let it go, it turning into a soft melodic tune that seemed impossible to come from the lips of such a stocky young man.

"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me....
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now, I see.

T'was Grace that taught...
my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear...
the hour I first believed.

When we've been here ten thousand years...
bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise...
then when we've first begun.

"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me....
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now, I see."

Rachel thought back to her upbringing and her devout mother who often sang hymns and other religious songs from long before she had even been thought of. As Ensign Anderson finished the hymn, she felt herself begin to well up inside and her knees began to grow weak. And she wasn’t alone, all around the room faces were streaked with tears and more than one member of her crew was reaching out and holding the hand of another.

“Dismissed!” She said fighting back the urge to break down and cry.

The gathered crowd turned and slowly and humbly made their way out of the docking bay, leaving only Captain Shepherd and her surviving bridge crew among the rows of coffins.

“You held up well there Rachel, Andos would have been proud!” The voice came from her left and Shepherd turned to see the familiar face of Lt Commander L’Vek, normally devoid of emotion but now showing nothing but compassion. L’Vek had served with the captain for over five years now and she had come to love and rely on his vulcan logic and despite the coldness that many humans felt for the race she new deep down that vulcans were just like regular people, and could have an amazing sense of humour when the moment took them. L’Vek had been the CMO on the Isis and a damned good one at that, his stoic determination had saved her life and that of most of her crew on many occasions, but even he couldn’t work miracles.

Rachel smiled warmly at her friend and took comfort in his just being there. Andos had been her first officer and for over two years her lover. Slightly older than herself, Andos was a pleasant man who was always laughing and always had time to say hello to a crew member no matter how busy he was. He had been well loved by the crew of the Isis and his death was going to hit them hard.

“Thank you L’Vek, thank you for your kind words my friend.” Her comments were sincere and heartfelt as she spoke, and once again she felt the urge to sink to her knees and let the ground consume her. Two other figures approached the captain and her vulcan medical officer and both looked saddened and upset.

Michael Washington had been the chief engineer on board the Isis for over eight years now and had gotten the vessel out of more than a scrape or two. His frame towered over both the captain and L’Vek and she had at times wondered how someone so big and burly managed to clamber up and down Jefferies tubes all day without having a concussion. Washington was almost forty years old now and had been in Starfleet all his adult life, serving on lots of vessels but his one true home was the Isis. Born on Nebulan IV, Washington was a human but due to the unique nature of the planet and its sun, his skin was almost obsidian black.

Standing almost dwarfed by the huge engineer was Lara Kincaid, a stunning woman in her early thirties and one of the best science officers Shepherd had ever had the pleasure to work with. Kincaid was from Vega III, the daughter of two Starfleet Diplomatic Corp parents and a child prodigy. By the time she was three years old she could right music, play almost a dozen instruments and speak four languages almost fluently, learning came easy to the young girl and she was destined for a fast track career in Starfleet. She graduated top of her class in every subject she took and was assigned to the Isis nearly three years ago, fresh out of the Academy. She could have had her pick of any vessel in the fleet, including the legendary Enterprise, but she chose the Isis and Rachel had been glad many times that she had. Lara had more than her fair share of suitors too on board the ship and in the few short days they had been on the Starbase more than one person had asked her to come out for a drink or a meal, to which she just smile politely and went back to her duties or reading the scientific journals, trying desperately to make up the decades of knowledge she had lost out on.

Michael had his arm around Lara’s slender waist and she leaned on him, not in a sexual way, but seeking comfort and solace in a close friend. Her face was streaked with tears and she looked as if she could break down again at any moment. Michael was strong and resolute and almost as emotionless as L’Vek normally seemed, a far cry from his jovial self, often finding any excuse to play a trick or joke on some unsuspecting new ensign aboard the ship. They made an odd couple with Washington towering over the diminutive woman, and despite the situation Rachel found herself wondering what their children would look like if they ever got together!

“You did great Rach, did all the crew proud. So what is going to happen to the bodies now?” Lara blurted out bluntly and to the point. Captain Shepherd loved that about her science officer, the way that she spoke her mind rather than just sticking dogmatically to rote and regulations.

“Those who don’t have any families left to claim the bodies will be cremated in the stations morgue and their ashes scattered to space, others who have living relatives and descendants will be turned over to them for burial, arrangements have been made by Starfleet.” The words came easier to Rachel than she thought they would have done, perhaps referring to the poor dead crewmen and women as bodies took away some of the pain she felt and made things that much easier.

Starfleet had been excellent in helping Rachel and her crew come to terms with their loss of so many friends and colleagues. They had been instrumental in helping them reacclimatise with their new surroundings, offering whatever was needed, including counselling. Rachel of course had the brunt of the pressure to hold up to, part and parcel of the chain of command she guessed, and for the past two days she had helped liaise with the starbases counsellors, tracking down living relatives, organising the memorial and even finding the time to oversee the refitting of the Isis with Michael and his hand picked team.

Of the remaining crew, only a few had found that they still had loved ones alive and well back home, though obviously a lot older now. Picking up the pieces would be a very difficult task and once the war was over they could get back to the day to day job of life in the 24th Century.

Both Michael and Lara were among the crew who had lost all contact with surviving relatives, their families long dead, something that they would come to terms with in their own time. L’Vek however was different. Vulcans tend to live much longer than humans and it is not unheard of for a vulcan to reach over two hundred and fifty years old. L’Vek had found out from the Vulcan Embassy that his wife Trel was still living and stationed on Deep Space 7, and his young son Mekla was now an officer in Starfleet. The sad thing was however that almost twenty years after the ship had vanished, Trel had remarried under vulcan law, leaving L’Vek in an awkward situation. Under vulcan law a mate could take another if they had good cause to believe that their mate was dead, even if no body had been found, but only after a lengthy period of time. Trel had met and married another vulcan officer in Starfleet, one who had been widowed himself and eventually they married.

L’Vek was as stoic as ever and showed no emotion when the news was broken to him, just nodded and went about his duties overseeing the upgrading of the medical facilities on the Isis. Even though he was a vulcan, a race who had almost complete control of their emotions, Rachel knew that deep down he must have been hurting badly, and she worried for her friend.

Lara nodded at the captain as she spoke and was just about to say something herself when the door to the docking bay slid open and two officers walked in accompanying Commodore Harrison, both wearing Federation uniforms. The taller of the two was a female with deep set eyes, dark hair and stunning looks. She had the type of allure that would stop most men dead in their tracks and as she walked her curvaceous frame had a gentle swagger to it. The other officer was male and most defiantly not human, a square jaw with heavy set almost reptilian features, topped with hair that was almost pure white, almost as broad as he was tall and rippling with muscles that made him look like a coiled spring. Instantly Shepherd recognised the offer as a Zinti, a race that until this week she had been fighting against for over two years.

The commodore smiled warmly trying hard not to interrupt on the feelings of the remaining command crew of the Isis, knowing only too well that times such as this could be extremely difficult and that crews of starships often became closer than most families ever could. Clearing his throat nervously, the commodore seemed ill at ease.

“As you where! Captain Rachel Shepherd allow me to introduce your new first officer and head of security; Commander Mia Medara and Lt Commander Pequal.” He said in an almost nonchalant way.

Rachel knew that it was going to be difficult to find crew to replace those she had lost during the fight against the Zinti, but little had she expected that the choice would be completely taken from her hands and she would be nursemaided into this new era by people she didn’t even know!

“Commodore Harrison I was under the impression that it was down to myself and my existing command crew to choose the replacements for our lost colleagues, not to have the matter taken from my hands completely!” she almost spat the words out as she spoke.

The commodore sighed and shifted uncomfortably for a second looking at the two officers who accompanied him. He knew that there may be a few teething problems having the betazoid officer and her human companion assigned to the Isis, but he had not expected an almost childish outburst from someone who had the track record and experience as Shepherd.

Before he could even open his mouth to speak, the tall attractive woman at his side stepped forward and extended her hand towards the captain, a smile forming on her face.

“What the commodore means to say captain is that Starfleet has requested that we help ease your transition into the 24th Century and make things as painless as possible. You are almost ninety years out of synch with our time and it will take someone with our current experience and knowledge to help bring you and your crew up to speed. We don’t mean to intrude but we do need to get the Isis back into the fight as fast as possible and you know the kind of losses that the Federation has been suffering!” The young woman’s voice was melodic, almost like that of a running brook, light and bubbly, yet she had an air of confidence that belied her years and youthful appearance.

Mia Medara was a betazoid, one of the most highly thought of members of the Federation and a race that had both empathic and telepathic abilities that often made those of the highly logical vulcans seem weak by comparison. As a betazoid, the young woman instantly was able to read the mood and tension of both Shepherd and the commodore and acted instantly, using her talents and skill as a negotiator; defusing the situation before it could begin.

Rachel was shocked for an instant, but extended her own hand to take that of her new first officer and felt the warmth of her handshake, firm and steady, something that she wondered momentarily if this new colleague would mirror with her actions.

“Good, good. I will leave you to get acquainted with your new staff. We have a lot of work ahead of us. Dismissed!” Harrison couldn’t hide the nervousness in his voice as he spoke and as he span on his heel and left the docking bay, the tension seemed to leave with him.


The rest of the afternoon was spent getting the remaining personnel assigned to the Isis and for the two new officers to get to know their new colleagues. Medara was as charming as she was handsome and even the normally stone faced L’Vek seemed to warm to her presence. Rachel had ordered a brief respite at 1700hrs and took the time to check out the personnel files of both Medara and Pequal while she ate. Eating was a strange thing in this brave new world, normally Shepherd would just have called down to the galley and have one of the ships chefs make her some food, but now she simply entered her desired meal into on of the stations many repliactors and instantly the food was prepared to her liking. Repliactors were not a new thing to the captain, having been around since she was a small child, but the leaps in technology had given them a whole new purpose and they now filled every home in the Federation.

Commander Mia Medara, born Medara Betazed 2336. Daughter of Rax and Elowin Medara. Graduated Starfleet Academy 2357. Degrees in Xenobiology, exobiology, and linguistics. Served as conn officer on the USS Einstein, cited for valour under fire on four separate occasions. Promoted to lt commander and reassigned to USS Independent on a four year diplomatic mission in liaison with the Diplomatic Corp. Negotiated the entry of the Farduq into the Federation. Awarded the United Federation of Planets medal of Valour for her actions in the Botdat uprising…

So far the captain had only skimmed the surface of the data padd’s information on her new first officer and was impressed to say the least. Her new XO had seen a lot of action and had more commendations than most officers would receive in twice the length of service, and lots of glowing reports and comments by former commanding officers, none of whom Shepherd had heard of, but very impressive non the less.

Rachel pushed the padd away from her and took another mouthful of the spaghetti bolognaise she had replicated. The food tasted just as good as anything her personal chef Thomas could create, which made her sigh slightly. With the advances in technology sometimes human skills suffered and centuries old traditions would fade and vanish. Thomas was a good friend and an excellent chef and also the biggest confidant that the crew of the Isis had. It wasn’t the standard Federation policy back then to have a ships councillor on board, and as such the ships chef or cook often took that role, in much the way that bartenders on Earth used to listen to other peoples problems and offer solutions. Rachel had lost count of the number of times that she had approached Thomas for his sage like wisdom and advice and he always made her listen to herself and make the right decision.


Sadly Thomas was one of those lying in state in the docking bay. He had died trying to pull crewmen out of the burning kitchen, following the Zinti attack that had led the Isis to wind up in the future, yet another casualty in a long, long list.

The memory of her lost friend and the attack was all to fresh in her mind and Rachel took a deep breath and picked up the second of the two padd’s. She thumbed the small control console and the black screen lit up and began to display the details of Lt Commander Pequal.

Lieutenant Commander Pequal. Born Zinti Prime 2340. Graduated Starfleet Academy 2360. Assigned to USS Swordhammer as Stellar Cartographer. Promoted to Lieutenant and transferred to security 2364, received commendations for valour and bravery up and beyond the call of duty. Helped foil the assignation attempt on UFP President Lavane 2370. Promoted to Lieutenant Commander and assigned to USS Peacekeeper 2371. USS Peacekeeper lost in combat against the Dominion 2372… Commendations for bravery…

Rachel pushed the padd away from her and rubbed her tired eyes. She had been diagnosed with acute stigmatism by L’Vek over a year ago and medication he had prescribed and administered, when she had to concentrate on small screens such at the tiny one on the padd her eyes would begin to hurt after a while.

Reaching over to the china mug that sat in front of her Rachel took a deep gulp of the dark liquid inside only to be repulsed by a cold bitter taste. The mug itself had survived the journey from the past and had been a present to her from her younger brother when she had been promoted to captain. She sighed slightly remembering Rick and his always youthful outlook on life and felt her eyes misting over as she thought of the last time they had met. Rick had been on Mars taking a few weeks off work as he was in the midst of a career dilemma. He was unsure whether he should continue with his studies as their parents had wanted or pursue his artistic desires and give into what he loved so much, sculpting. Of course Rachel had been there to point out both sides of the argument to her younger sibling and offer as much advice as she could, and just be there for him. In the end she wasn’t around to see what had happened, but once she had finally come to terms with the loss and transition of the time rift she checked out his profile in Federation databanks. Richard Henry Shepherd died 2336 aged 97, a distinguished sculptor and artist, the influence of the Shepherd movement during 2279, most noted for his Blue Period, heavily influenced Satar of Vulcan, Meked of Andor. Rachel had smiled when she had read his profile and was pleased that he had died an old man, though sadly he never married and had no children.

Pequal was an excellent choice for the top brass to chose to assign to the Isis, with an impeccable record, but given the recent history with her crew and the Zinti, Rachel knew that it would take a lot of hard work to put away any feelings of hostility towards the new officer! Something else she would have to work hard to get to terms with. The Zinti had been valued members of the Federation now for over seventy years and memories of the short war, long forgotten, but for the crew of the Isis the war had been all too real and wasn’t decades ago, only days and they had all suffered and lost friends at the hands of the reptilian race.

The Zinti had evolved along an almost similar evolutionary path as humanity had, only tracing their genetic roots back to birds and reptiles rather than apes and mammals, and had retained many of the looks and traits of reptiles. An offshoot race of the Gorn, the Zinti were proud warriors, excellent tacticians and surprisingly had created some of the most popular music in the known universe. The war between the Zinti and the Federation had been like so many others in history, a simple misunderstanding that had led to conflict.

A Federation exploration vessel the USS Lewis and Clark had made ‘First Contact’ with a Zinti science vessel on the fringes of Zinti space. As per their custom the Zinti raised their shields and charged their weapons, a sign of superior firepower that was seen as a open palm strategy by their people, the captain of the Lewis and Clark had misunderstood the actions of the Zinti vessel and a conflict ensued, one that would cause a war that would last for almost three years.

Pequal’s face looked back at Rachel from the padd, almost impossible to read. Like most members of his race Pequal’s reptilian looks often fooled other races into believing that they were either inferior or unintelligent, a fact that had cost many species dearly over the years as they were far from either.


Rachel sighed and stood up t stretch her tired and aching legs. Walking over to the head she ran water from the faucet and splashed it over her face to waken her up. As she reached for a towel she caught her reflection once again, staring back at her from the mirror that hung over the sink. She was tired, but determined, and she knew deep down inside that she would have to put all the recent experiences behind her and move forward if she and her crew were to fit in with this brave new world. Without breaking her step Rachel Shepherd stripped out of her uniform and placed it into the repliactors recycling unit, and stood semi naked looking at the dark uniform that hung in the rooms’ closet, a new uniform for a new era. She closed the door slipped beneath the sheets of the small cot and was asleep before her head hit the pillow.


3
Starbase 307 USS ISIS Engineering Section 40

Lt Commander Michael Washington took three slow and precise steps backwards from the console he had spent the past two hours working on and took a deep breath. The young ensign who had been working with him through the night looked on puzzled as Washington let the breath out slowly then charged forward and banged his foot down against the side of the console with considerable force.

Instantly the panel reacted and whirred into life, leaving Ensign Potts open jawed.

“Sometimes son you have to do things that are not in the tech manuals to get the job done right! Just don’t tell the captain or she will bust me down to ensign.” The older man winked and laughed out loud, the kind of belly laugh that fills a room and in the small cramped workspace was almost deafening.

Jacob Potts had been assigned to Starbase 307 only a week ago, part of the crew rotation. He was fresh out of the Academy and eager to get into the war against the Dominion. On the way to 307 from Earth he had heard rumours of a Federation ship that had suddenly found its thrown forward into the future, but though it was just scuttlebutt, but two days after he had arrived he was assigned to the Isis as a junior engineer and was taking a walk down memory lane.

The Isis was an old class of vessel, one of the Excelsior class ships that had been all the rage around eighty years ago, but were now just used for research or transport missions, rather than the frontline defence of the Federation. Back in their day though they had been state of the art, the first Federation ships with trans-warp technology and had redefined the way that warp travel would be used in the future; his future.

That said though the Isis may have been an older class of vessel but the ship itself was almost brand new. Potts had read through the tech schematics the night before his assignment to the ship, reading all the chief engineers logs he could, wading though piles and piles of data and information. Washington was a first rate engineer who had worked along side some of the greats of Starfleet Engineering back in his day, there was even a mention of the fabled Montgomery Scott being a close friend of Washington and Scotty has he was affectionately known; making several visits to the Isis just after she had been launched.

Potts let out a sheepish grin, but was simply shocked to see an officer of the calibre of Washington using brute force to get a relay working. He nodded politely and watched as the older man worked his magic.

“Okay son we have this relay back in working order so its time to tackle the overseeing of the warp nacelles refit, if you think you are up for it of course?” Michael grinned with a smile that seemed impossibly wide.

In the past week the two had worked together for many hours and Jacob found that he had taken a shine to his commanding officer who in turn seemed to be taking him under his wing. When he wasn’t working, Michael had even offered to teach Jacob to play a game that he had never heard of before in the ships newly fitted holo-suite, something called golf that he found very strange at first but loved the fact that the two of them spent most of the time they played this ancient game just talking. They spoke of many things, mostly it was Washington who did the chatting, regaling his young student with tales of his own youth and exploits, telling him of just why he had chosen a career in Starfleet and the last time they had played confiding in him about the loss of his family to time itself!

The refitting of the Isis was going smoothly and was a few days ahead of schedule, with the vessel moored in the repair dock that hung in space just a few thousand metres from the starbase. She had been given a complete upgrade, with her lower decks being transformed to all the carrying of troops if needed. Her weaponry was state of the art with trans phasic torpedo banks, quantum torpedo banks and the very powerful pulse phaser cannon arrays that were all going to be of use in the fight against the Dominion and its vessels. The last real thing to over see was the installation of the new warp nacelles. During her fight with the Zinti back in her own time, the Isis had suffered serious damage to her warp nacelles, damage so bad that they had to be replaced completely. Now she was getting another upgrade that would not only give her back the wind in her sails but also change her appearance dramatically. The old nacelles on the Excelsior class looked strange, boxy; with odd angles that seemed to jut out from the superstructure of the vessel. The class had originally been dubbed ‘The Great Experiment’ by Starfleet Engineers, who had hoped that it would be the workhorse of the Federation for the next century and beyond, but many of the early Excelsior class ships had serious flaws and problems with their design that meant that most of them would eventually end up retired only fifty years after their commission. The Isis however was different, to all intents she was still a new ship, an infant once again about to take a stumbling step into the galaxy before she broke into a headlong run!

According to the brass at Starfleet Engineering Corps the Isis would now be the fastest vessel ever in her class and easily capable for reaching Warp 9.95 for extended periods of over 15 hours, pushing her far faster than she had ever been before, partly down to the uniqueness of her old design, married with the new 24th Century technology!

Michael and Jacob left the small work space and crawled down the Jefferies tube and crossed over deck 9 and entered the outer docking bay of the vessel. A few moments later the boarded a work bee and Jacob took the helm of the small inspection vessel and took her out into the darkness of space. After serving for decades in Starfleet Michael Washington still got a huge kick out of seeing the Isis, his ship; so close, and as Jacob slung the work bee underneath the outer hull, Michael felt his breath taken away in a low whistle.

The sleek white and grey lines of the ship stood out from the inky black void of space and she looked better than Michael had seen her looking in a long time. All the battle damage from her recent run in with the Zinti was long since gone. Shattered bulkheads had been repaired and looked as new as the day she was christened, and the engineering crews from SEC had worked around the clock to get her ready for her first voyage into this brave new future, the last remaining step was the installation of the nacelles.

Jacob swung the work bee silently up from the belly of the Isis and began a slow, but steady climb up to her saucer section. From here the view of the old girl was breathtaking and both men sat silently watching the vista unfurl as they began to rise. Below them workers in EVA hard suits were still hard at work on the saucer section and as they gazed down onto the small, ant like workers, Washington could see that they had finally repaired the damage to the ships registry line. USS ISIS NCC 3445 was visible and the workers had just placed the final piece to the jigsaw the letter ‘A’ which would go at the end of the registry. Michael felt a lump in his throat as he saw his ship from this angle and thought instantly of his old friend Andos. Urklo Andos had not only been the ships first officer, but one of Michaels oldest and dearest friends. The two had been as thick as thieves and had been room mates in the Academy, graduating joint top in their classes and eventually being assigned to the Isis together. To say that the two men were like brothers would to be a vast injustice to their friendship, they were more like two sides of the same person, both fun loving and both jokers at heart.

Andos had loved the Isis, as much as he had loved Rachel in fact, and given his two year long affair with the captain had only been cut short by the tragic loss of the first officer in the line of duty, Michael knew how much both ladies had meant to him.

The work bee rose up above the saucer section and past the bridge, Jacob strained to see if he could see anyone on the bridge he recognised, but the bee flew passed the bridge so quickly that it became a blur. He shrugged his young shoulders, and carried on with the job in hand. He had hoped to catch a glimpse of Lt Kincaid, the ships science officer, a stunning woman who had welcomed him aboard the ship when he first transferred. She had been kind and sweet and had even invited Jacob to sit with her and Michael in the mess on several occasions, but he was unsure if this was little more than her being flirty, or that he was simply besotted with her.

In front of the almost microscopic work bee the vastness of the vessel stood out majestically, and two huge work arms extended down from the dock housing, each ending in a manipulator claw that was several metres long and as thick as the work bee was tall. The port nacelle was just being lowered into place now and Potts brought the work bee to a halt as both men began to run scans. Washington smiled warmly as he surveyed the work in progress. With the starboard nacelle already in place and the port nacelle all but ready, it was only a short matter of time before the Isis would be ready to fly among the stars once again.



Seven hours later the work on the final nacelle was finally complete and the Isis looked sleek and ready to take on anything. Her new nacelle configuration gave her a more predatory look. The new nacelles where shorter and sleeker than the standard Excelsior class vessels and swung out on curved boom arms rather than straight, much like the more recent Galaxy class vessels that had been docked in a parking orbit around the starbase. Michael was pleased with the work and when he and Jacob finally got back on board the ship, they both headed for the turbo lift and the bridge, Michael feeling like a school kid on a field trip for the first time. He knew that Rachel would be eager to hear his report and even more so to know that her ship was ready to get into the war against the Dominion.

The doors to the turbo lift opened and both Michael and Jacob strode onto the bridge to find it a hive of activity already. Junior officers were running around and checking consoles and it seemed that something was going down that both Washington and his young friend were completely unaware of. A voice from the captains chair barked out orders, but sounded so soft and melodic that it seemed as they were being sung.

Commander Mia Medara was in the midst of issuing orders when the two engineers arrived and she paused only to nod at Washington and signalled for him to take his position at the engineering console on the bridge, without breaking his stride Michael calmly stepped across to his access point and punched a sequence on the console and stood back as a chair slid out from its hidden recess.

Commander Medara was talking to a senior officer on the view screen and the mans face filled the entire bridge. He was a man in his late fifties, balding with very dark brown eyes and a hooked nose, and he spoke with a very clear and commanding voice.

“The attack wing of Jem Hadar vessels is less than a par sec away commander and they slipped through our net. I have instructed all vessels in the quadrant to be ready for their attack and the Enterprise is fifty minutes away from your location. It looks like it may be down to the Isis to hold the line commander!” The mans voice trailed away softly.

Commander Mia Medara nodded her head and acknowledged the information passed on by the captain of the other vessel.

“Understood Captain Picard. We are about to leave the moorings as soon as Captain Shepherd rejoins the vessel from the starbase and will hold the line till your arrival!” Her voice was clam and soft but carried with it the understanding of events that were about to unfold.

Captain Jean Luc Picard nodded and his image went from the screen to be replaced by the outer view of the vessel.

Seconds later the turbo lift doors opened and Captain Shepherd, along with Lt Commander Pequal walked onto the bridge, the Zinti taking his place at the security console, relieving the officer there.

“Captain on Deck!” Medara said raising her voice almost an octave as she stood up and moved out of the command chair and sat down in the chair to the captains right hand side.

Michael looked over briefly and saw that Rachel was her old self again, full of composure and ready to take on anything. She was no longer wearing her old Starfleet uniform but was now dressed in the new sleek fitting black and grey outfit that most of the other crew had now been issued. The new look suited her, giving her an air of authority that Michael had noticed absent for the past three weeks since arriving in this new world.

“As you were. Report!” Barked Rachel to her first officer

“All stations are answering ready Mam, moorings to the outer work bay are ready to be severed and the ship is good to go!” Came the reply.

Rachel looked over the padd in her left hand and reached over and flicked a tab on her chair, instantly the computer issued whistle as the comm opened to all decks.

“This is Captain Shepherd. A flight of Jem Hadar fighters has broken through the outer blockade and is heading for Starbase 307. We are the only vessel in range to defend the station and the rest of the fourth fleet is almost an hour away. This will be our first mission, but not our last, let us make the Jem Hadar fight for every centimetre of Federation space. Shepherd out!”

Rachel Shepherd looked around at the bridge crew and knew at once that all her fears and anxieties had been for nothing, everyone was in their place and knew their job.

“Helm cut loose all docking moorings and take us to 35.4004.2 at one third impulse. Tactical give me long range scans and watch for incoming warp signatures. Medical prepare for casualties. Security have officers stationed on all decks in case of boarding actions!” Rachel suddenly realised that she had not even paused for breath.

“All moorings cut and leaving on a heading of 35.4004.2 at one hundred metres a second, dry berth will be cleared in four, three, two, one. Dry berth cleared Captain heading for coordinates at one third impulse.” Lt Hiro Takashi sang out as he skilfully manoeuvred the huge starship out into open space.

The stage was set, the troupe assembled all that was needed now was the audience and the curtain could rise!

4
Sector 307 Alpha Quadrant 1113hrs

For over twenty minutes the USS Isis had lain in wait behind the fourth moon of Devona IV, if the attack wing of Jem Hadar vessels were to indeed attack the starbase then this was the most likely route they would take and the moons heavy gravitational field would provide an excellent shield from long range scanners and sensors. Rachel Shepherd pulled down the over jacket of her new uniform and adjusted it as she shifted slightly in her seat. The bridge was on full alert and Shepherd had ordered the ship to run silently, with the minimum of sections of the vessel running at full power. The reduced energy emissions and the huge bulking presence of the nearby moon would help masque any trails that could lead the fighters to the Isis and allow a brief moment of surprise that could by the starbase enough time to evacuate to the nearby planet.

This wasn’t the first time that Shepherd had ordered the ship to run silently, in fact it was a tactic that she had used several times in the recent past against the Zinti. It as a tactic she had read about that had been used by both British and German submersibles during Earths Second World War and Rachel reasoned that if it worked back then, it could work now and it had allowed the Isis that extra edge more than once.

Now was the most painful part, the waiting game! Long range sensors had detected a wing of four Jem Hadar long range fighters heading into the quadrant and they would be within range of the starbase within the next fifteen minutes, far to long for the relief to be of any use.

During the past two weeks the captain had read every single thing she could about the Jem Hadar, the Dominion and the war itself, familiarising herself with the tactics, lessons learned and mistakes made so far and had found that the foot soldiers of the Dominion were more than willing to die for their masters, in fact they saw it as a glorious end to a life dedicated to the Founders.

Of the Founders, the majority of the information was classified, but Rachel had clearance as a starship captain and had read through the case files and reports submitted by various commanders and captains in the quadrant, most notably those submitted by the current captain and commander of Deep Space 9, a Federation/Bajorian controlled ex mining facility that until a few years ago, had like most of the Bajor system been under the control of occupying Cardassian oppressors.

Now Bajor was vying to become a member of the Federation, shaking off over fifty years of occupation and had become vital to the fight against the Dominion. A stable wormhole had been found in the Bajor system, one that led hundreds of thousands of light years away to the Gamma Quadrant and shortly after trade routes had been established, the Dominion and its foot soldiers the Jem Hadar had been encountered and things had gone from bad to disastrous very quickly. The first real encounter had involved Sisko, the commander of Deep Space 9 and a Ferengi bartender who had been captured by the Dominion, only to be later rescued. Reports were somewhat strange to read as it seemed that two teenagers, one the son of the commander and the other a nephew of the bartender, were responsible for saving them, and that a Galaxy class vessel which was in the area at the time had been destroyed when a Jem Hadar fighter had rammed the mighty ship in a suicide run, killing over a thousand Starfleet officers and their families.

Since that moment contact with the Dominion had been more or less hostile and it had been found that the leaders of the huge cartel, known only as the Founders were in fact a race of shape changers who could adopt almost any form. It seemed that if worlds didn’t join the Dominion they would soon be brought under the heel of the Dominion by sheer force. Violence was a tool that was often used, as was fear; to subjugate a populace, allowing the Dominion to take what they wished.

Now the war had been raging for almost three years and thousands of Starfleet officers, civilians and more had died in the most horrible ways imaginable and that war was going badly for the Federation. The long range predictions of the top brass was that the Federation would be completely overrun within two years and that in ten years all of the major worlds of the Federation would be under the yolk of the Dominion. Shortly afterwards the Klingon and Romulan empires would fall, followed by the Breen and even the Gorn and Tholians. In short within twenty standard years the entire Alpha Quadrant would be under Dominion control!

Rachel had studied footage of the Jem Hadar in action and found them to be ruthless and determined, but there was also an air of arrogance and self superiority and that was what she was counting on. Take them from behind and use the element of surprise to her advantage.

And the wait would soon be over…

To Ensign Potts the wait had seemed like an eternity, though it had been less than an hour since they had left the work bee following the inspection. He sat in his chair on the bridge in the engineering section and studied the read outs and data as it appeared, his mind racing and his feet shaking in his Federation issue boots. This was his first time in a real combat situation, and it was all he could muster to stop his teeth from chattering as he did his job.

The rest of the bridge seemed perfectly calm, Commander Medara was clam and serene as she sat at the captains side. Lt Commander Pequal was totally unreadable, his reptilian face was as far as Potts could tell always wore the same expression, and right now he was reading the sensors and checking for the approaching Jem Hadar fighters. Jacob felt his heart skip a beat when he looked over at Lt Kincaid, he was totally taken in by her beauty and even now with the threat of an uncertain death hanging over the entire crew she had a regal look that made his insides do cartwheels.

Jacob glanced over to Michael to take his mind away from Lara and her radiance and noticed that the chief engineer was busy making minute adjustments to the warp cores matrix from his console.

“Don’t worry son. Once the fighting starts it will all come back to you, all the training will come as natural as…”

Michael didn’t finish his sentence as he was interrupted by Pequal.

“Four Jem Hadar fighters approaching on vector nine two zero Captain, they are heading for the starbase and have not detected our presence.” Jacob found the Zinti’s voice strange like broken glass dancing on stone.

“Understood Mr Pequal. Helm wait till they are within range and execute Shepherd Four Two Zero Six!” Directed the captain at her young helmsman.

“Four Two Zero Six, plotted and ready to execute Captain!” Came the prompt reply.

It was only a matter of a few seconds from Lt Takashi speaking till the silhouettes of the Jem Hadar fighters appeared on the huge view screen that dominated the far wall of the bridge but it hung heavily in the air like musk. The four vessels moved silently through the void heading to wreck more havoc against the Federation.

Each of the dark green vessels looked more like a living beetle or insect than a starship, with a sleek low slung body that seemed to glisten with energy. The low lines and underslung warp nacelles of the craft made it look deadly and designed for death and destruction.

The Isis slid silently from her hiding place as the four fighters flew past and took a position directly behind the two trailing vessels. With a nod from Shepherd, Pequal moved his lizard like fingers over the controls on the console and targeted the two rear vessels and let loose a volley of fire and destruction that lit up the view screen like a firework display.

Instantly one of the two fighters was engulfed in explosions as its nacelle was sheered off and caused the vessel to smash headlong into one of its companions, resulting in a catastrophic explosion that claimed both vessels.

The two leading fighters reacted with an unearthly speed and veered off to both port and starboard, taking a high arc to return to attack the Federation threat from behind.

“Two Jem Hadar vessels destroyed Captain, the other two are returning on attack vectors!” Came the rasping tones of Lt Commander Pequal.

“Understood. Helm bring us about to three four two zero and execute Shepherd four two zero six on my mark.”

The ship moved hard to the port and dropped down almost a thousand metres in a matter of seconds as Takashi manoeuvred her with skill and grace.

The ship shock for a moment as the returning fighters approached from the rear and let loose a volley of plasma fire.

”Mark!” Yelled Shepherd and instantly the Isis dropped down again as her ventral thrusters were fired at full charge, pushing her down like a stone into a pool. It was a risky tactic but worked and as the two fighters speed forward, Pequal got one of them locked and let loose with a volley of quantum torpedoes that sent it spiralling into oblivion.

The remaining fighter spun around almost on its axis and opened fire with a volley that that shook the entire bridge throwing Medara and Shepherd forward in their seats and blowing out several conduits in the process.

“Shields are down to fifteen percent Captain. That last volley took out the ventral phaser array. Casualty reports coming in from decks seven, nine and fourteen.” Lara Kincaid’s voice shattered the taciturn stillness of the bridge.

The fighter spun around again and flew directly back at the Isis on a direct collision course that no shielding would protect her from. It let loose a barrage of plasma fire and suddenly exploded into a thousand pieces.

“We thought that you could do with a little help here Captain!” Came the tones of a well spoken man and Shepherd smiled as the visage of Captain Jean Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise beamed at them from the viewing screen.

“Your timing is impeccable Captain, I think that I owe you a drink!” Laughed Shepherd to which the balding man just smiled and nodded.

Side by side the USS Isis and the USS Enterprise flew silently back towards the starbase.

…………………………….