Galaxy: Contest of Wills

From TFC Galactopedia

This is probably one of the longest pieces I've written yet, hopefully though it keeps people interested

Captain’s Log, Stardate 41385

Galaxy has spent the last twenty-hours coordinating the ‘disaster releif’ of the Kevran planet. Doctor O’Donnel and her teams have been both participating paws-on with the medical end of the effort even bringing some of the worst cases aboard ship to simply relieve the pressure off the Kevrans as well as acting as consultants, and in my Doctor’s own words: ‘Pharmacists Extraordinaires’ in taking up the slack in the shortfall of pharmaceutical needs of the Kevrans, as Willow told the Judicar medicines are one of the things that the replicators do surprisingly well. While Galaxy has more than enough replicator mass to handle this task, I have placed restrictions on the usage of the replicator systems for the next day or so to give all priority to the relief work.

Shamus Tordin has also begun to pull his wait must unexpectedly. He has sent messages back to the Federation Council urging Galaxy’s continued assistance in helping the people of this world, as well as also strongly suggesting that Starfleet send more ships to our location. He has also begun negotiations with the other surviving Judicars and the City Speakers. He might still be a pompous oblivious pain in the tail that has insulted members of my crew but he’s at least become a useful pompous oblivious pain in the tail now.

The problem we have encountered however is that we are still no closer to finding an answer to who was the perpetrator of this massacre than we where when Galaxy arrived in-system. The recordings of the attack and the wreckage we have recovered so far have only revealed that the weapons have a nadion-pulse and a photonic decay signature. Basically we have discovered that the weapons used where of a type that half the star nations in the galaxy use, including Starfleet. Commander O’Donnel has suggested that this sort of problem gives credence to his desire to have a specialized Starfleet Corps of Engineers action team assigned to the ship to help bolster his ‘generalist’ crew’s abilities and this is giving me serious weight to agree with him.

Michael sighed as he looked down at the PADD that was connected to the Galaxy’s main computer cores tapping the light stylus pen against the side of his muzzle. Unlike most he preferred to paw-write his logs on the PADD. He found that it helped him think, and at times like this it really did he thought as he looked out of the viewport the quarters his family occupied. Galaxy was at the moment orbiting with its upper decks towards Kevra III’s surface. They had rolled their normal orbital inclination a few hours ago to give the main deflector array a better look at the wreckage with minimum interference from the planet’s magnetic fields along with some of residual weapons fire was still causing raised levels of background radiation thanks to their interaction with the atmosphere. Unfortunately nothing as of yet had been discovered.

Thankfully providence had seen to it that Galaxy’s orbit did not take it over any of the destruction on the surface. The debris field had been visible from the quarters viewports though and when he had returned to the ship after his meetings with the Kevrans he had spent time talking to his children about what they had seen. Daniella especially had been a little shaken. It was he knew one of the prices he paid for having his family with him on Galaxy but still he never liked the idea of not having an answer for his children.

He sighed standing, “computer, music, low level, McLoude music folder, file ‘Across the Night,’” the computer chirped and soft gently harmonious music issued from the speaker systems as he picked up the glass of water he had nearly neglected while writing his log as he walked to the viewport sighing. This was not the mission he had hoped for after his ship had completed all her trials and prototype testing. Here he was presiding over the investigation of a massacre, not the mission of exploration he had been wanting. Well, he thought to himself listening to the sad sounds of the music, the Lord said there would be times that try our souls…

“Michael,” the soft soprano voice of his wife announced and he turned to see Mika behind him in one of the kimonos she always wore in the evening. Not one of the elaborate ones she chose for formal occasions but a simpler more ‘casual’ one. Her long silver streaked black hair was pulled back and held in a loose braid with a bow that he knew meant she had either just prepared to go to bed or had woken up from sleep. Her ice blue eyes, the trait she had given all their children save Chaser who had one blue and one brown, looked at him worriedly.

“I’m sorry if I woke you,” he told her gently. “I didn’t realize that I had been at all loud.”

Mika still looked worried, examining her husband as she walked up the silk of her kimono rustling just barely heard over the constant background rumble of Galaxy’s life support systems. “It was your absence that woke me,” she said softly in Japanese, the language the family tended to use in private and Mika’s ‘native’ tongue. “You’re log entries usually do not take this long, and I had not heard anyone announcing the need of your presence.” She joined him at the viewport and wrapped her arms about his left one. “Your thinking about the dead again,” it wasn’t a question.

He sighed and nodded, his wife could read him like an open book. “It frustrates me I admit,” he told her watching the planet slowly orbit. “We where suppose to come here on a peaceful mission, now…”

“You can’t blame yourself though,” she returned to him and he frowned down at her petite frame, before he could respond she continued. “Michael I am your wife of thirteen years and the mother of your children, if I couldn’t read your mind by now something is most definitely wrong. I’m also a teacher, I might not have the skill of it that Willow has gathered as a doctor but I have learned to tell when someone is holding something back.”

Michael simply shook his head, “I know that the universe is not a safe place at times, especially with these low-grade conflicts we have had with the Cardassians for years but still, this sort of thing…” he shivered slightly. “Whole cities wiped out in moments, close to a billion beings dead. It’s like records I’ve seen from World War Three, or Jason McLoude’s logs from the Romulan Wars, and there was nothing I could have done to prevent it. Even though I know it I wonder from time to time what would have happened if I had Galaxy moving at Warp Nine instead of Warp Six.”

“Remember what Allen told you in his letter,” Mika returned referring to the advice her husband’s best friend and mentor had given him when he had learned of Michael’s captaincy. “How he said the greatest mistake of any captain was over-thinking your own decisions. He said there would be situations that would never sit right with you, solutions that would never work as well as you wanted, tasks that you would have to leave undone. He said that the true measure of a captain, weather you would become a James Kirk or a Matthew Decker would be in how you accepted that even with all the power Galaxy has, all the experts you’ve pulled together into your crew, there will simply be things you cannot do or prevent.”

Michael couldn’t help but nod at that, “I’d quote a saying from a North American military but I’d be afraid you’d take the soap you have told the children you will use on them for profanity if I utter it.” He gave his wife a small smile.

She gave a feigned annoyed frown, and Michael couldn’t help but picture one of the many times as children she had stuck her tongue out at him when she thought he was being ‘unruly’ then sighed gently. “You need rest, and I sleep better when you are there as well,” she pulled him into their small bedroom, stripping the outer portion of his uniform leaving him in his t-shirt he wore under it taking that top and his combadge and folding it and placing it onto the drawers that his three other uniforms, not counting his dress one where placed neatly into then turned back to slide under the covers with her husband.

Unfortunately it was right then that the combadge decided to chirp and Lieutenant Thamone, the Galaxy’s Caitiani tactical officer’s purring voice issued from it. “Captain?”

Michael noticed the rather ugly look Mika gave the combadge, her ears going back and her tail stiffening a bit as he gave her a very apologetic look as he moved from the bed to the dresser, tapping the badge with his paw, he even swore he heard a small growl from her but that couldn’t be right, she never growled. “McLoude,” he announced mentally telling himself to switch to Standard English from the Japanese he and his wife had been using, though he was fairly sure the UT would have picked it up.

“Sir I hope I’m not inconveniencing…”

“I’m the captain, its part of the job description Kebin,” he gave his wife a sympathetic look as she continued to look rather menacingly not at him, but the combadge as he re-donned the uniform top. “Go.”

“Gef and I have something we’d like to show you sir, If you have time,” the purring voice returned referring to the ship’s senior Operations officer Gefrom Tabis, the second of only two Brikars aboard. “We’re in Cargo Bay Four where we set up the examination lab for the debris we’ve been collecting.”

“On my way,” he responded then tapped the combadge again as he fastened his top up turning to his wife to apologize to her.

She simply walked up to him, rubbing her paws down his uniform to smooth the few wrinkles, real or imaginary, though her ears where still back looking at the combadge she simply sighed and looked up. “Its all right, like you said, you are the captain its part of the job.” She went to her tip-toes to give him a gentle nuzzle. “I’ll make do, and yes, I know, you will make it up to me, you have never willingly broken that promise once,” she said before he could even utter the words he wanted to say.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he returned softly and then headed out of the quarters wondering what Gefrom and Kebin thought urgent. He knew the two of them and knew it would not be something trivial, maybe finally finding out the identity of the attackers.

“Sorry to wake you Captain,” Kebin announced as Michael entered the cargo bay. It was one of the smaller ones and had been cleared of the racked supplies it had held, mostly spare parts and other consumables that where compact and easily storable. Most of what had been stored here could have, in theory been easily replicated on an ‘as need’ basis, thus eliminating the need to keep them in storage to begin with. ‘In theory’ though was a sight different from reality, for one replicators where not designed for large amounts of complicated finished product, which meant power requirements where much higher than they where for say a cup of coffee (though Michael didn’t think they where all that good for that either, he brewed his own). There was also the fact that when you most needed a spare part would most likely be right when the replication systems would be off line.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll only order the Bosun to hold you down and shave your mane if it was just to pull a practical joke on me,” Michael returned as he walked up to the lion and Kodiak.

“Sir?” the Caitiani asked in confusion but the massive brikar simply chuckled.

“We need to work on your sense of humor son,” he rumbled softly. “T’lara at least understands most of the Captain’s moments of humor, she usually doesn’t laugh but she at least gets it.”

“Back to purpose,” Michael said, probably a little more curtly than he wanted. “What have you got?” he asked as he looked between the two officers who both where at the moment huddled around what looked like a soil sample and a piece of demtarium wreckage that was most likely a piece of one of the destroyed space installations and a half of what looked like an ultra-hard transparent ceramic viewport and its mountings that the Kevrans used over the standard transparent aluminum Starfleet used. The viewport fragment had an ugly heat-transfer bubbling effect right across ‘cut.’

“We’ve been playing with comparison of different damage effects and the soil about some of the cities that where hit,” Gefrom started though he did pause slightly after mentioning the cities. That was affecting everyone on the ship even experienced crew members like the two brikars. Surprisingly his youngest senior staff officer, Gigi von Katchner had risen above and beyond in coordinating all the shuttle and transporter operations. She was just as in shock as the rest of them, maybe more so she was still young enough to her officer pips to not have seen too many relief operations but still she had buried that and went hard to work on helping the Kevrans. “Chief O’Donnel’s furs suggested it; they even took some samples of their own to run independent corroborations. Thanks to that we’ve finally been able to narrow down the type of weapons used on them.”

“So we know who did it?” Michael asked but he knew that was probably getting his hopes up a bit much.

“Unfortunately no, we don’t” Kebin Thamone returned his own frustration starting to bubble to the surface. “We have been able to narrow the signatures down to about five possible. The big problem being is someone went to a lot of trouble masking the normal weapons signature by adding a disruption-based pulse into the energy streams and torpedo load-outs. It almost looks like they where trying to make it look like a disruptor, not a nadion-based weapon to make it look either Klingon, Romulan or maybe even an Orion Syndicate raider, but went about it badly. Unfortunately they where good enough at what they did engineering this to throw all our normal analytical routines into the transporter. Even with the Chief’s suggestion and the cross referencing we can only narrow it to five possible. Even with that we couldn’t give you a complete definite on whom it was.”

“I never expected perfection Kebin you know that, neither did Captain Antain when we where on the ‘Burg,” Micahel said knowing that Kebin had the habit of trying to explain exactly why he hadn’t been able to do exactly what was asked of him, even if his results far exceeded expectations to begin with. “Just give me your best guess and I’ll be happy. Who are our suspects?”

“First on the list are the Temari,” Kebin stated turning to a terminal and bringing up the LCARS database showing a beige rectangular block-like ship that had no obvious warp-nacelles or for that matter any viewports or distinctive markings. “Probably lowest too, considering their space is a couple hundred light years away. Next up, an old Bajoran weapon.”

“That’s extremely unlikely considering they’ve been occupied for about thirty years,” Michael returned frowning.

“Our thoughts too,” Lieutenant Commander Tabis returned. “Still there might be a few of their old militia weapons floating around out there.

Michael conceded the point and nodded for them to keep going. “It also resembles a Lyran style phaser,” the display shifted to a ship made up of three hulls joined together with warp nacelles mounted between giving it the look of a catamaran. “Lyrans are certainly nasty enough in my own opinion,” Thamone nearly hissed and his lion tail snapped about, he could also see his tactical officer’s claws extending and retracting a bit. Lyrans had over several points in Caitiani history raided and even occupied their homeworld. No love was lost between the two species. “It’d be a long trip for them but it’s certainly their style of attack and they could easily come back with some transports and cart off anything they wanted from the industrial centers.”

“Easy Kebin,” Tabis returned. “Remember lets not get your own personal feelings mixed up in this.”

“Aye sir,” the Caitiani took the admonishment and calmed a bit. “Cardassians are also on the list and the Gorn…”

“The Gorn make absolutely no sense,” Michael returned. “For one, it isn’t their style they don’t like sneaking about. Also the Confederacy would never sanction any thing like this at all,” although looking like all the world for miniature T-rexes out of Terra’s ancient past the Gorn Confederacy was a peaceful entity that the Federation had enjoyed excellent relationships with since first contact.

“We are near their territory,” Tebin said thinking. “Both them and the Cardassians. I’d be more inclined to believe it was the Lyrans or the Cardassians but we can’t discount the possibility of Gorn being involved. Maybe a rogue element of the Confederate Navy is involved?”

“Maybe, they’ve had a couple of captains go rogue over the years…”

“Captain McLoude and senior officers to the bridge, yellow alert,” the voice of Commander T’lara called out and the chime of the alert sounded moments later. All three officers looked at each other in a bit of puzzlement but did not waste any other time as they rushed out of the night-dimmed corridors and to the turbolift to the bridge.

“What do you have, T’lara?” Michael asked as he strode onto the bridge with his two other officers taking quick notice that the Galaxy had been rolled in its orbital inclination again to have the ventral portion of the ship now facing the planet. He quickly crossed to the command chair as his Vulcan desert fox stood from the duty officer’s char to the right of the command chair.

“Two warp signatures on an inbound course to Kevra III,” she returned as he settled himself into the command chair and Kebin and Gefrom took up their stations at Tactical and Ops respectively and Lieutenant (j.g.) Gigi von Katchner rushed out of the lift and tapped the gamma-shift helmsfur on the shoulder and slid into the station he had vacated. “They are Cardassian in nature,” her ears twitched a bit as her brow raised in the classic Vulcan body language. “Considering the findings Lieutenant Thamone and Lieutenant Commander Tebin where reviewing with you I thought it prudent to raise shields and re-align our orbit. Phaser arrays are not at full firing charge but are in pre-charge state and torpedoes are loaded. After all they cannot detect that we have torpedoes ready to fire till we have actually used them.”

Michael nodded going through mental checklists. Right now the civilian members of the crew including his own family would be waking and moving towards the shelters toward the center of each deck away from the outer hull. There would be no announcement on the bridge but a small icon on his LCARS access told him that the civilians where in the shelters. In Engineering Lad would be rushing in and snapping off orders bringing the core and impulse reactors to a higher state with shields active and T’lara had already taken care of his next desired priority. Willow would be on the medical deck now preparing her teams for emergency casualties. That left two things he himself needed to do. “Kebin,” he turned slightly in his chair, again wishing they would not have placed tactical directly behind the command chair. “Raise the Kevrans and tell them what’s going on, they don’t have their sensors running yet and also inform the Councilfur that we are currently unable to transport him and that he’d be safer down on the planet anyways,” Michael had a feeling Tordrin would have wanted to get as the old expression went ‘the hell out of Dodge’ and back to the ship but right now Michael had other things to worry about than a panicky politician. “Gef,” he turned back towards the viewscreen and his Ops officer. “Give me the run-down on the data we’re getting on the two Cardassian signatures.”

“From the readings it looks like two Gelek-class cruisers, they’ve dropped to impulse,” the massive brikar responded quickly as his paws flew across the Ops console.

“Communications sent and received,” Thamone returned then Michael heard the ‘chirpchirp’ of commands being entered into the LCARS system. “I concur with Commander Tebin’s assessment, two [i]Geleks[/i], power reading suggest Gelek III subtype. Less phaser firepower but two extra forward tubes for their torpedoes and a little faster. Smaller than us.”

“Which means they’re more maneuverable than Galaxy,” T’lara announced the from where she still stood as was her custom. Michael nodded and started doing some calculations in his head, Galaxy was a powerful ship but she wasn’t a purpose-built warship, and these Geleks where. There where also two of them to his one, he didn’t like the idea of trying to take them on but had a feeling he might have to.

“Time to intercept?”

“Four minutes thirty one seconds at current speed,” Tebin called out.

Michael frowned. “They show up after all this happens, one of the signatures we think might be compatible with the weapons fire here,” he looked up at T’Lara. “I don’t like where this is going.” T’lara gave him one of her ‘you're stating the obvious captain’ looks however she also nodded her agreement to his thoughts. Michael looked at Ops. “Give me a course plot as far as you can on their warp trail up on the viewscreen.”

The brikar nodded and within moments the view of the planet rotating below was replace by a computer generated graphic showing two yellow lines arcing out of the system and towards the Cardassian boarder but… but not quite Michael realized frowning. As if… as if they where trying to make it look like they where coming from home when they really where not. The scenario building in Michael’s head was not looking very good at the moment.

“Any other Cardassian ships? Any transports?” he asked.

“None that I can see sir,” Thamone responded and more chirping was heard in quick succession. “They could be hiding somewhere else if they saw us in orbit first,” the Caitiani returned catching on to his captain’s thoughts.

“Hail them,” Michael ordered with a frown.

“Aye sir, channel open.”

“Cardassian vessels, this is Captain Michael McLoude of the Federation Starship Galaxy in orbit of Kevra III. Please respond.”

The screen snapped to view of the lizards with pale off white/brown skin with two ridgebones running down either side of their necks and heavily hooded eyes from their brow ridges and black slicked back greasy hair. It always seemed odd to Michael when he saw Cardassians that lizards actually had hair but he put that quickly out of his mind as the Cardassian in the center of the view who was a bit… corpulent spoke up. “Rather young aren’t you for a command, puppy?” he asked in a voice dripping with contempt.

Michael mentally forced himself to stop clenching his jaw. He had been a little on the young side when they gave him his command but he was not near the records Kirk or Picard set. “May I know who I am talking to…” his eyes saw the insignia on the armored uniform and his mind did a brief run-down of Cardassian ranks and he also hid the surprise, “…Legate…” Legates where the equivalent in the Cardassian Union to a flag officer in most other fleets in the Alpha and Beta quadrant.

“Gorial, Legate Gorial puppy,” the Cardassian responded contemptuously. I am here on official business of the Cardassian Union, I suggest you leave the system.”

Michael frowned at him, deciding to ignore the fact that the overweight Legate kept calling him ‘puppy.’ “Official Union business? Odd that considering this visit of my ship had been planned out by the Diplomatic Corps and the Keveran’s months ago and no one informed me that there would be two Geleks entering this system.”

“We do not have to clear our intentions with you or your kind puppy,” Gorial sneered. “We are in fact responding to a distress call we received while patrolling the boarder for Federation incursions.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes simpleton, they where apparently attacked, I guess your sensors are malfunctioning if you can’t see the carnage about you,” Michael realized the Legate was trying to bully him.

“That’s interesting Legate Gorial, since the Judicars and City Speakers of the emergency government my crew have been assisting in the disaster assured me that they never had a chance to transmit a distress call.”

“They must have been mistaken,” the Legate sneered. “Or maybe you jammed it when you fired on them. Your ship is certainly powerful enough to be the one that caused all this damage.”

Michael didn’t blink at that, surprisingly enough he had been expecting that accusation, he had a feeling it would be the next play in the book Gorial would use to brow-beet him. “Well I can assure you Legate Gorial that it was most definitely not Galaxy that fired on Kevra III and its orbital facilities. For one we did not arrive in system for several hours after the attack, and the weapons signature most definitely was not Starfleet in nature.”

“So sure you are at that puppy? Your ship is the only one I see in the area,” Gorial returned. “You are most likely the one that caused the destruction.” The Cardassian smiled in avarice Michael did not like where this conversation suddenly started going. It was as if Legate Gorial had abandoned one tact for something he saw. “In fact I think you should accompany us back to Cardassia, you would be our… guest while we try to determine the extent of what you and your crew has done here. Of coarse your magnificent ship would become property of the Cardassian Union you see, we’ll take it as reparations for what you’ve done here.”

That did get a frown from Michael as he leaned forward in his command seat. “Getting a little ahead of yourself Legate Gorial.”

“You are out-numbered puppy. We could easily destroyer your ship.”

“I don’t take well to threats Legate you should know Starfleet well enough by now with your people’s dealings with us.”

“You are still one ship, we are two,” the Legate returned leaning back and motioned off screen.

“They’re powering their weapons!” Thamone called out from behind him. “Shields are at full strength!”

“Bring phaser arrays to fire-charge state targeting solutions on both vessels,” Michael responded frowning his ears going back and a growl starting to slip into his throat. Inside his stomach tightened a bit, he really had no desire to face down the Geleks but he had few options now. If his hunch was right if he left the system to get reinforcements he was sure by the time Galaxy returned Kevra III would have Cardassian troops on the ground and most likely be in the process of annexation when they returned. He’d never stand down and let them take his ship away to be cut up by the Obsidian Order to have other Starfleet captains face their own technology in a year or so. He also had no illusions about Cardassian ‘hospitality,’ he knew their judicial system was a sham where the verdict was always decided before the trial, and he had no doubt they’d have a great time executing him and his senior officers as ‘war criminals.’

“Red Alert,” T’lara called out calmly as Michael snapped off his orders and Gorial frowned at him through the viewscreen.

“Get his image off my bridge,” Michael snarled softly and Thamone responded at once, the viewsceen snapped back to not the view of the planet but a tactical overlay showing the positions of the planet with the current three ships their weapons ranges and known firing arcs overlayed over their icons. “Gigi, break orbit, I want out of this gravity well so we can have some room to maneuver,” he scanned the overlay his ears still back thinking hard. He saw the icon that represented his ship shift out of orbit but keeping the ship between the Cardassians and the planet he studied the Cardassian icons intently. “Are they moving to intercept?”

He heard the chirping of Thamone’s console. “No sir, holding station just outside weapons range.”

“And theirs too, why in their mind they have the upper paw…”

“Claw actually in their case Captain,” T’lara corrected him, though he was too busy thinking to even give her his normal ‘you know what I mean’ look whenever she corrected him like that. Why where they holding outside of weapons range? They had the advantage in numbers if not tonnage. They could give Galaxy a hurt if they came in…

He punched his command chair’s LCARS access and brought up the com-display and bringing up the commands for engineering. “Lad?”

“Aye?” the voice of his Chief Engineer called back.

“Those modifications that would have to be made to a weapons array, the ones that have been fouling our sensors so badly, how long would it take to strip those?”

“Givin’ tha nature o’em?” Laddire responded in his thick Scottish accent. “I ‘ave tah say three, four days minimum. An’ tha’s lookin’ at jus strippin’ tha things down, not puttin’ ‘em back togathah.”

“Thanks Lad,” he returned and did some quick mental math then turned to the long-furred Doberman at helm. “Gigi, move us towards the Geleks. Nice and easy, give them a chance to back off.”

“Kapitän?” she blinked but he saw her paws fly across the helm controls.

He nodded to Gigi and watched the tactical plot praying to the Good Lord his hunch was right. He knew it was a gamble but Allen and Captain Antain had told him there would be times when he would have to take a chance. He watched as the two weapon arc displays moved to merge then the movement together suddenly stopped.

“They’re backing off sir,” Thamone announced in confusion. “They’re matching our speed and keeping out of range.”

Michael nodded and looked at Gigi. “Push them a bit more, increase your closure rate.”

The young helm officer nodded and did as told but he could tell there was a lot of confusion going through her mind as she spun the control on her console that regulated the power output of the impulse drive. Again as Galaxy approached the firing ranges of the two Geleks they again backed off keeping a steady distance just outside of weapons range. Michael couldn’t help but give a slightly predatory smile.

“Hail from Legate Gorial,” Thamone announced.

“On screen,” Michael returned settling back hoping he at least looked at his ease, his insides where not quite there yet. He had a strong hunch but wasn’t absolutely sure on it yet.

“Are you mad puppy?!” Gorial snarled out standing on his bridge. “Do you want my ships to fire on you?”

“The question that should be asked I think, is do you actually want to fire on us,” Michael returned hoping his features where impassive he even strained to bring his ears back to a more neutral carriage.

“What the devils are you talking about.”

“Well, I was just thinking that if you fired on us, we’d get a clear reading on your weapons. It’s the only thing I can think of, since our two nations have been in constant low-grade warfare and skirmishes for years, you’d have no reason to fear reprisal from your Central Command for firing on a Starfleet ship. My only guess would be you didn’t want us to find out what your weapons signatures where,” Michael shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage and was afraid he had pulled it off rather poorly. “Granted, I can’t really think of a reason why you’d want to refrain…”

Gorial visibly hissed on screen and then snarled out in a very menacing voice. “What makes you think I won’t fire?”

“Well, we’ve moved towards your weapons range twice, and you’ve backed off before either one of us could exchange fire. That only leaves me with the conclusion that you really don’t want to fire on us,” he nodded towards Gigi. “Bring increase speed again, lets give them their weapons range.”

Gigi did as asked but it was obvious she thought something was slightly wrong with her captain though it seemed Lieutenant Commander Tebin had caught on, he hadn’t looked at either T’lara or Thamone yet to see if they understood. “Ja herr Kapitän,” his helm officer announced and she spun her paw delicately on the power control again.

“Your move Legate, we can just keep coming, and exchange that fire,” Michael announced leaning forward in his chair and praying to the Lord on High that his suspicions where right.

There was another hiss from the legate. “I’ll remember you puppy,” was all he said before the transmission ended and on the tactical display that replaced it the two Gelecks began moving rapidly away and the weapons range and arc overlays snapped off.

“They’re moving away at full impulse sir,” Thamone announced. “weapons are going off line.”

“Your gambit worked,” T’lara announced as she looked at the Terran canine one brow raised creating a lopsided look with her ears. Confirming at least his guess that his Vulcan XO had understood what he was doing though he didn’t want to guess as weather she had approved or not.

“Gambit?” Gigi asked in confusion from helm.

“They’re weapons,” Thamone purred out in appreciation. “If they had opened fire we would have been able instantly compare their weapons with the ones we’ve been studying the last day.”

“And they couldn’t risk it,” his Ops officer’s rumbling voice picked up, “good credits say that they where going to land troops on Kevra III under the auspice of ‘disaster relief’ and start occupation and then, lead to annexation. All they needed was a disaster, and what better way to create one yourself.”

“Unfortunately they didn’t count on a ‘puppy’ commanding a Starfleet vessel calling their bluff,” Michael said with a sigh as he finally leaned back in his command chair and closed his eyes. “Cancel red alert, let’s get the ship back to a semblance of normalcy, but keep an eye on those Gelecks, and find out how long till the Rutledge, Tsiolkovsky and Trieste get here.”

“Aye sir,” the chorus of voices called out and Michael felt his left paw begin to tremble a bit as he came down from the adrenaline high that the stress had caused. He sighed, he knew that would be coming but it still didn’t make it any easier to accept he knew Mika was going to have a time tonight getting him calmed down for the morning, still it was a routine they had developed over the years in his career as a Starfleet officer and it truly did help.

“T’lara, you have the bridge, I have a promise to keep to my wife.”