First Officer’s Log – Stardate 59142.3 Captain Space has been recalled to Deep Space Fifteen for an emergency conference with Admiral Bolter in regards to the recent outbreak of war with the Tholians. Personally, the idea of war does not thrill me, considering we just fought a war eight years ago; yet out here, I wonder how much it will affect us. For now, we are holding position pending Captain Space’s return and speculation on the news he’ll bring back with him. Kevin reclined in his chair on the bridge as he recorded his log. Elsewhere, Dana and Cammy worked on mapping a nearby section of AC-21 at the sciences station. Kevin looked up as Lieutenant AJ Thompson strode onto the bridge from the turbolift, coming up next to Xanthus Talkart at tactical. Kevin said, looking up at Thompson, “Morning, Lieutenant.” “Morning, Sir.” “I like that new pip on your collar.” Thompson smiled, touching the second gold pip on his collar, “You know, I’d never thought, I’d make a chief engineer. Guess I was wrong, wasn’t I?” “Yup. Captain Space is one of those people who can see potential in people, often which they don’t know they have themselves.” “Sure does. Any word on when he’ll be getting back?” “Not really.” Dana broke in, “I still don’t understand why Bruce chose to have the Toronto take him back to Starbase Gamma rather than using the Cassandra. It’s things like this that he asked Starfleet to have it uploaded.” “Starfleet wanted all taskforce captains back at DS-15 ASAP. Sending a starship is faster than our new shuttlecraft.” AJ asked, with some curiosity, “You ever wonder why he changed the ship’s name to a woman’s name?” “Captain Space likes to name shuttles after women. He used to do it with cars he’s owned, a long time ago. He was able to justify it with Starfleet by saying it was a name from historical literature, rather than just a woman’s name,” Dana replied. “True, he’s been itching to test her,” Kevin added. “I’m certain we’ll get that chance when he gets back.” “Sooner than you might think, Commander,” Talkart said, “The Toronto is coming into transport range now.” Dana took her station as Kevin said, “Hail the Toronto.” She did so and the bridge of the Starship Toronto appeared, its captain centered in the image, flanked by Bruce, “Commander, prepare to beam me back to the ship.” “Transporter room two is locked in and ready for transport.” When Bruce returned to the bridge, he ordered Dana to open the internal communications system. She complied and Bruce said, “All hands, this is the Captain. Well, now that I’m back, I can officially pass on the news I received at the meeting I’ve just had with Admiral Bolter. The Tholians are resorting to war for the Tetrahedrons in the Briar Patch. At present, the Eagle Star or any other Starfleet forces in the Gamma Quadrant have not been recalled to the Alpha Quadrant. Captain out.” Kevin said, “This stinks. You’d think that the Federation Council could have done something to prevent this.” “They did, but you know how relations have been with the Tholians in the last couple of years. Something was going to break and the Tetrahedrons were the catalyst.” “How do you think it’s going to affect us out here?” “Not much, but Starfleet forces in the quadrant have been put on recall alert and the Dominion sent assistance to Deep Space Twelve; all we can do right now is continue with our assignment and see what develops.” “Understood, Sir.” “Anything interesting happen while I was gone?”
“Dana and Cammy found an asteroid field about fifteen minutes from here. They’ve been mapping it. I was planning to send a shuttle out later for a closer look. Cammy noted there might be mineral deposits in the asteroids.” “Prepare the Cassandra, Commander. I’ll be in my ready room.” “Aye, Sir.” Bruce walked off the bridge to the ready room with Dana following. Kevin retook his chair and said, “Lieutenant Thompson, see to the Cassandra.” “Right away, Sir.” Bruce and Dana sat with a cup of tea in their hands on the couch in the ready room. They did this frequently: sitting down, having a beverage, and talking through either’s problems. For them, this was so much better than a counselor. Bruce never felt like he needed a shrink in times of crisis, more a philosopher, someone who could understand the way the other felt from their point of view. Confiding in the other kept things private and helped foster the bond which had grown between them over the years. Dana said, “Kevin’s right. This stinks.” “In some ways, I feel like I’ve been fighting all my life. I know that there’s always a fiftyfifty shot that any alien species we encounter could wind up being an enemy to the Federation, but, things were really looking up after the Dominion War, the Reman incident not withstanding. It’s high time we made some friends out here,” Bruce replied. “I won’t disagree with that,” she paused, “At the same time, Bruce, maybe what you honestly need is some fresh air. You’ve been working non-stop since we got out here.” “I’m not taking a vacation now, Dana. This is not the time for that sort of thing. I need to be out here, where I’m most needed.” “I’m not suggesting you take a vacation. I’m just suggesting you take an away mission and get off the ship, get a little fresh air.” Bruce looked into his wife’s face. She knew the regulations preventing captains from leading away teams, but at the same time she also understood the unwritten regulation of “captain’s prerogative.” She’d served under enough captains in her career, including her husband, long enough to know that. That’s why she never objected to her husband leading an away team, even if in a dangerous situation. Likewise, vice versa. He didn’t object to her leading an away mission. They’d been down that road once before, but survived it. What danger could this be? He said, “Sounds like a plan.” In the outer reaches of the final frontier, new enemies lurk in wait. In the great unknown, darkness rises. Yet, one crew will stand against the dark and explore the unknown, mounting up with wings as eagles to the stars.
Episode #103 “Former Enemies” Written By Michael A. Slagenweit
Personal Journal, Bruce J. Space – Stardate 59144.6 Considering the news I received at the emergency conference with Admiral Bolter early this morning, I’m not exactly in the best of moods. Dana thinks I could use a bit of “fresh air” to clear my head. Who am I to debate my wife’s wisdom? To this end, I’m going to test out our new shuttle. Maybe this would also be a good opportunity to make some amends with one of my crew. Bruce found Sandarklan in the phaser firing range, practicing. Bruce enjoyed target practice himself and stopped by the weapons locker before stepping on the range. “I practice at a level you could not match, Captain,” Sandarklan said, remarkable confidence in his voice. Bruce replied, “Don’t be so certain. I’m a lot older than you are and have had a lot more practice. What level?” “Twenty.” “Computer, add another player, begin program.” A collection of green spots floated and zipped about the firing range. Bruce shot at the spots, not missing one. Sandarklan, on the other hand, missed every now and then. Jem’Hadar had excellent vision, Bruce knew, but even a Jem’Hadar was still capable of missing every now and then. Bruce, on the other hand, had plenty of practice. When the program was over and the computer declared Bruce the winner, the captain offered his officer a consolation prize, “Don’t feel bad, Mr. Sandarklan, I’ve been doing this for a long time.” “Interesting,” Sandarklan replied. “Tell you what; I’m going to take the Cassandra out for a little spin. Take it around that asteroid belt Ensign Spencer found recently. Why don’t you come with me? We can talk a little bit, get to know each other.” “Jem’Hadar do not socialize.” “We were just socializing on the firing range there. What makes taking a run out in the Cassandra for a few hours any different?” When Sandarklan offered no response, Bruce said, “Don’t make me have to order you around all the time, Crewman. For once in a great while, take the initiative and do something with for your crew.” “Very well, Captain. I shall accompany you.” Though not the most enthusiastic response Bruce ever received for an offer to join an away mission, he took it in stride. From the firing range, Bruce walked back to the bridge to fill his first officer in on what he was doing. Kevin said, “Captain, I don’t need to remind you of the regulations.” “Captain’s prerogative, Commander.” “Bull, Bruce.” “Look, you’ve known I’ve wanted to take the Cassandra for its first real spin. We’re only going to be a couple of hours away; we’ll keep an open comm. line and if we have any problems, we’ll holler.” “Captain, may be you should take Lieutenant Talkart with, just in case.” “I’m capable of taking care of myself, Kevin. You know where to find me.” For what little Bruce got to actually go on away missions, he preferred to wear what he’d nicknamed the “workman’s uniform”, Starfleet issue circa 2371. It felt comfortable and was easy to work in, and get out of when it got too hot. He’d just finished changing and was getting his Will Durant from the desk when the door chime sounded. “Come,” Xanthus Talkart walked in, Bruce said, “What can do for you, Lieutenant?” “Permission to speak freely, Captain?” “Granted.” “I don’t like this idea, Captain, you going on this away mission with the Jem’Hadar. I don’t
trust him.” “Xanthus, you don’t trust anyone,” Bruce replied, flatly. “That is untrue, Sir. I do trust you; you alone.” “Part of exploration for us, Lieutenant, is to not only explore space. It is also to explore ourselves. If we called someone “enemy” in war, but the war is long over, are they still an “enemy”? What if they have been hospitable; even helped us?” Xanthus looked away; the captain had a point. Bruce continued, “Keep an open mind, Lieutenant. Someday, you may well need to trust someone other than me.” “I will, Sir. I was concerned for your safety.” “Much appreciated, Xanthus.” Starfleet’s new type-XII shuttlecraft carried the sleek design of which Starfleet shuttles in the last ten years were known for. What made the Eagle Star’s Cassandra different was the fact that both Commander Kevin Doran and Lieutenant Xanthus Talkart had taken a hand in making sure that the weapon systems and defenses were nearly comparable to that of an escort or scout type starship. Bruce, on the other had felt like the guy who had just gotten a brand new corvette. He wanted to take her out, drive her fast, and impress someone. With Dana in tow, he met Sandarklan in the main shuttlebay. Before boarding, he kissed her good-bye, assuring her that he would call if anything went wrong. She watched as the pair boarded the Cassandra and launched. Once clear of the Eagle Star, Bruce punched the ship to full impulse power and headed for the asteroid belt. “Put sensors on full, Mr. Sandarklan. They’ll need to record as much as possible if we’re going to get an accurate map of this region,” Bruce said, after entry into the field, reducing impulse power so as to avoid a collision with a rock. Sandarklan complied without response. Bruce looked at the Jem’Hadar, seeing no expression at all on his features. He said, “So what do you think?” “About what?” “The Cassandra, Sandarklan.” “Impressive.” “That’s all? Just impressive?” “Jem’Hadar have no sense of aesthetics, Captain. The Founders did not include it in our genetic makeup. I could not tell you if I think something is beautiful or not, because I do not know.” “Still there must be something about the ship that you like.” “The armament is comparable to that of a Jem’Hadar attack ship, a Reman scorpionclass fighter, or a Tholian web spinner.” “True, that does make it impressive for a Federation starship.” Bruce thought, if this kept up, he’d be discussing starship design and tactical schematics until he decided to head back to the Eagle Star. Not exactly the best way to get some fresh-air. “I take it that Jem’Hadar aren’t bred for conversation either.” “No.” “Joy.” “Commander, I’m receiving a distress signal from the Toronto. They’ve experienced engine failure and are requesting emergency assistance,” Dana said. “Location of the Cassandra?” Kevin replied. “They’re too far out for us to swing back, get them, and make it to help the Toronto.” “Dana, send a message to the Cassandra. Appraise Captain Space of the situation.” Kevin ordered, “Helm, set course for the Toronto. Warp three.” “Ready.” “Engage.” More widely worshiped than Athena was her comely brother Apollo, bright deity of the sun, patron of music, poetry, and art, founder of cities, maker of laws, god of healing and father of Asclepius, “far-darting archer and god of war, successor to Gaea and Phoebe at Delphi as the holiest oracle of Greece. (From Phoebe he took the name
Phoebus, “inspired”.) As god of growing crops he received tithe offerings at harvest time, and in return he radiated his golden warmth and light from Delos and Delphi to enrich the soil. Everywhere he was associated with order, measure, and beauty; and whereas in other cults there were strange elements of fear and superstition, in the worship of Apollo, and in his great festivals at Delphi and Delos, the dominant note was the rejoicing of brilliant people in a god of health and wisdom, reason and song. 1 That could explain why he was attracted to a planet like Pollux IV, rather green, good planet for cultivation. A good selection for the people you intended to make your subjects. Certainly, one of his fame would want an ideal place for his new home, including one that would suit his subjects. What kind of civilization would that produce? A high-tech, modern civilization? Or one stuck in an age long gone by; an ignorant, child-like civilization. I wonder if Captain Kirk caught that in actually dealing with Apollo, himself. 2 Bruce, so engaged in the narrative-style historical text, nearly missed it when Sandarklan said, “Captain, we are receiving a message from the Eagle Star.” “What?” Bruce’s head rose from the pages. He pulled off his reading glasses and set them in the binding of the book. “We are receiving a message from the Eagle Star. The Starship Toronto has experienced engine failure and the Eagle Star is responding to their distress signal. They will return once the repairs on the Toronto are complete.” “Acknowledge the signal, Crewman.” Swell, Bruce thought, I get to enjoy a few hours more of the intellectually stimulating conversation we’ve been enjoying. Sandarklan worked the console, complying with Bruce’s order. Bruce put his glasses back on and went back into the book. He’d barely finished the paragraph when the sensor console began to sound. Sandarklan caught it first, “Captain, there are three vessels approaching our position. Sensors do not recognize the configuration.” Bruce set the book on the floor, as he said, “Visual, crewman.” On the display monitor next to Bruce’s console an image of three small ships appeared. Sandarklan magnified the image. Nothing Bruce recognized, but they resembled Reman scorpion-class attack fighters. With bigger weapon ports and minimal warp drive, he amended on closer inspection. He asked, “Do you recognize them, Mr. Sandarklan?” “Yes, Captain. They are Avkar attack ships.” Bruce looked at Sandarklan, not quite believing, “The Avkar? Looks like they’re not giving up this system without a fight, but I thought they didn’t have the ability to manufacture space-faring vessels.” “Not starships, but light vessels.” “Armaments?” “Comparable to a Jem’Hadar attack ship.” “That’s a pretty impressive armament.” “Do you think the Avkar could have built the most sophisticated genetic research facilities in the Gamma Quadrant without the ability to defend them?” Sandarklan asked. Bruce thought he detected a small amount of smugness in Sandarklan’s question. “Good point.” “Though they were not allowed to equip them with Dominion weapons.” “Looks like they’re ignoring those rules, Mr. Sandarklan.” Bruce switched his attention back to the panel, “Man the tactical station. I’ve got the helm; bringing us to course 151, mark 022. Engaging evasive maneuvers, delta sequence.” The lead Avkar fighter released a volley of energy weapons at the Cassandra, which Bruce dodged with a practiced hand: doing what any good helmsman would do. Sandarklan jumped to the tactical station and worked the controls, “Weapons ready.” “Target the lead fighter. Full spread weapons, on my mark.” “Ready.” “Fire.” 1
Durant, Will, The Story of Civilization: Part II - The Life of Greece, (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1939/1966) 182-183. 2 See the Classic Star Trek episode, “Who Mourns for Adonais?”
The Cassandra let loose a volley of phaser fire, crippling the lead fighter, not before it got its own shot back at the Cassandra. “Shields down to sixty-one percent,” Sandarklan said, “They’re coming around for another pass.” “They’ve damaged the impulse engines. We’re not going to be able to outrun them. And the Eagle Star’s too far out of range for a distress signal. Scan for an asteroid with a crater or fissure in it we can enter or a dense part that we might use to make some repairs.” “There is a suitable size asteroid with a stable fissure at Bearing 012, Mark 312.” “I’m taking us in.” Bruce swung the ship toward the asteroid with all the speed she could muster, while at the same time continuously dodging the weapons fire the Avkar sent their way. As the shots grazed the Cassandra’s shields or missed them, Bruce thought: persistent aren’t you? Must have gotten that from Diabolus. They zipped into the asteroid fissure sooner than the lead Avkar fighter anticipated and it smashed against the rock-face. Bruce paid it no mind. He brought the ship to the point of which the fissure ended and turned her about. He powered down the engines and had the computer assess the damage. Not bad, but they certainly weren’t in tip-top condition anymore. Meanwhile, Sandarklan monitored the Avkar fighters which hadn’t followed, but they would be lying in wait for them to come out. “They’re waiting for us, aren’t they, Crewman?” “Yes, Sir.” “Well, I don’t plan to keep them waiting too long. Come on; give me a hand with the engine repairs.”
Personal Journal – Stardate 59145.4 Recording this entry aboard the Shuttlecraft Cassandra. Crewman Sandarklan and I have encountered a group of Avkar fighters in the asteroid belt near the New Horizon system. I can only suspect that their mission is to spy on Federation interests in the solar system, under orders from Commandant Erik Diabolus. Meanwhile we are completing repairs on the Cassandra and planning our next move. Bruce had come out of the jacket of his uniform and had the sleeves of the turtleneck rolled up past his elbows. He’d once spent some time fixing up old cars, back in the day, so fixing starship engines was kind of like it. You tried not to get all of your clothes dirty. From there, he gotten down on the floor and squirmed his way into the engine compartment to make repairs. He said, “Hand me the microcoupler, would you, Mr. Sandarklan.” Sandarklan handed him the tool from the engineering kit lying on the floor next to Bruce, its contents in disarray. He was about to return to the tactical console, where he’d been keeping watch for the Avkar, when Bruce said, “That’s done it.” Bruce crawled out, closed the compartment and went back to the helm. He powered up the engines and made a quick test to ensure the repairs were stable. Good, he thought, now to get out of here and warn the Eagle Star. That all went through Bruce’s mind, until the rumble, not from the Avkar, but from within his stomach. “Now you have to get hungry on me,” he said, slipping back into his jacket. He found his book on the floor, his reading glasses a foot away from the book. Thank God, they hadn’t gotten broken. That’d be the third set this year that he’d broken. Dana would be pissed, she warned him about leaving his glasses in the binding of his books. He slipped the glasses into a pocket in his trousers. “Sir?” Sandarklan asked, still standing, watching. “My stomach’s growling. The Avkar are going to have to wait a little longer, I’ve got to take care of this first.” Sandarklan, puzzled, sat down. Bruce went to the replicator, ordered a submarinesandwich, and sat across from Sandarklan. “Want anything?” he offered. “Jem’Hadar don’t eat, Captain. The White sustains us.” “Speaking of which, how are you doing?”
Sandarklan checked his tube. Dr. Al-Rashid had refilled him before they left, but as it had been several hours the tube’s contents were significantly lower. Sandarklan said, “I will be all right for a few more hours.” “Let me know if you’re having trouble.” “Yes, Sir,” Sandarklan turned back to the console, but then glanced over at Bruce. The captain had shown him compassion. Concern for his well being? He couldn’t explain it, but said, “Thank you.” Bruce, in the middle of a bite, caught off guard by the thanks, finished chewing to reply, “You’re welcome, but what for?” Could it actually be, Bruce thought, that he’s actually going to come out of that shell Jem’Hadar build up. “For considering my welfare.” “I’d do that with any member of the crew, Mr. Sandarklan. No matter who they are or where they came from.” He probably would, Sandarklan thought. He’d been taught to show no compassion at all. Obedience brings victory and victory is life. Still, this Federation crew was like no other he’d encountered before, the captain above the rest. “May I ask a personal question, Captain?” He asked with genuine curiosity. “Depends on what it is,” Bruce replied, finishing the sandwich. “How old are you, Sir?” Bruce smiled, laughing a bit, “Would you like me to be honest, or would you like me to lie?” Sandarklan looked at Bruce questioningly, not getting the joke, and Bruce continued, “Four hundred nineteen years old.” “How could you have lived so long? Four hundred and nineteen years is over twice as long as many Vulcans live. Are you an El-Aurian?” Sandarklan knew his species, Bruce thought, probably integrated into his genetic programming. He replied, “No, Crewman, I’m human. Every single medical scan and scientific probe says as much, but still can’t explain why I’ve lived as long as I have.” “There must be some reason.” “That’s what I’ve always thought. I thought I’ve had some greater purpose in life and that was why the almighty wanted me around so much. I don’t know. I believe that’s part of the reason why I joined Starfleet.” “That perhaps coming out here will tell you of your purpose?” “Exactly.” “What about Commandant Diabolus? I gather that you know him rather well.” “A subject that I’d rather not talk too much about, Mr. Sandarklan, but since you asked, I’ll tell you a little bit. First of all, if you took the worst men in Earth history, say Nero of the Roman Empire, Hitler of Nazi Germany, and Khan of the Eugenics Wars, rolled them all into one, you’d get Erik Diabolus. He’s as cunning as he is treacherous. The man has delusions of grandeur that I couldn’t even begin to explain. The man seeks to build an empire which he alone controls.” “That is why he has taken over the leadership of the Avkar?” “I’m certain of it. What better way to build the empire he so wants. Defeat the Dominion, while it’s allied to the Federation and then defeat the Federation.” “I understand, Sir.” Bruce gazed over at Sandarklan. The Jem’Hadar had seemingly showed an interest in him, not merely intelligence gathering but as if he were looking for something personal to connect with, “Why the sudden interest, Mr. Sandarklan?” “I am not certain, Captain. Somehow, I felt some need to socialize.” “That is perfectly acceptable, Crewman. Socialization helps us to learn and grow. It deepens relationships. It’s also a great way to gain someone’s trust.” “I hadn’t wanted to go on this mission, Captain.” “I’m glad you admit that.” “I am grateful you forced the issue.” Bruce smiled, that was something he never expected to hear in his life: a Jem’Hadar expressing gratitude. Maybe you didn’t need a drill to get through all that Dominion conditioning, but just some time and patience. That seemed to be all it took to make them come out and show
that they were something more than mindless automatons, killing machines and cannon fodder for the Dominion. “You’re welcome. Now, what do you say we get out of here? The Eagle Star should be heading back this way and they’ll be wondering where we are.” Though not psychic, Bruce anticipated well. The Eagle Star was on its way back from its assistance of the Starship Toronto. The ship had experience complete warp engine failure, thanks to a faulty modulator in the dilithium chamber of the warp core. AJ Thompson and his team had needed to fabricate a new one from scratch. Once completed, the Eagle Star set course for the asteroid belt. Kevin, figuring Bruce’s conversation with Sandarklan would amount to very little, decided to make the return trip a little faster so that they would cut down the time Bruce had to wait in the dead silence. Books were good entertainment, Kevin thought, but no match for a good conversation. Problem was, when the Eagle Star arrived, Bruce was not waiting for them as Kevin guessed he might be. “Cammy, can you locate the Cassandra?” he asked. “No, Commander. She’s not within range of our sensors. There are some particularly dense asteroids in there and they are making readings difficult.” “All right then, we wait.” He sat back in his chair. Dana asked, “Do you think Bruce is all right, Kevin?” “Yeah. The captain’s tougher than nails, he’s all right. Somehow I’d don’t think that Sandarklan would pull anything.” “You thought so earlier today,” Xanthus Talkart said. Kevin replied, “So did you, Lieutenant. But if he’s gone this long and nothing’s happened, I don’t think anything will.” “I hope you’re right,” Dana said. “Tell me, Mr. Sandarklan, do you think the Avkar will be waiting for us at the mouth of the fissure, waiting for us to come out?” “That fits their way of thinking, Captain.” “So what of we surprised them by coming out the back door?” “Sir?” “Analyze the rock-face near our position, scan for thin spots or instability.” Sandarklan worked the console a moment, then replied, “There’s instability just behind us. If we put the phasers on a low-yield, we might break through.” “The problem will be timing it right so we get out of there and getting the jump on the Avkar before they can react.” “We’ve dealt with one ship, Captain. If that is any indication, they are not completely used to being in a combat situation. Something we can take advantage of.” “All right, let’s do it.” Bruce brought the Cassandra about, to face the back side of the cavern. At the same time he punched a control to access his personal database, “What we need now is some mood music.” “I beg your pardon, Sir?” “Just trust me,” Bruce said, with a chuckle. He brought up The Eagles’ “Already Gone” on the Cassandra’s sound system, playing the song a little louder than normal, but not so loud as to not be able to hear Sandarklan. He continued, “Ready, Sandarklan?” “Aye, Sir.” “Target phasers.” Sandarklan worked the tactical station and a moment later replied, “I have targeted the proper coordinates, Sir.” “Fire.” A blast of energy shot forth from the bow of the Cassandra, effectively punching through the rock-face of the asteroid. Not more than ten seconds later, Bruce sped the little ship through the hole, back out into the field. He swung about and set an attack course for the Avkar fighters. Before they had a chance to react, the Avkar found themselves under a barrage of phaser fire.
Unable to mount a proper counterattack, the fighters began to make a run for the outer edge of the field, toward New Horizon. “We have them on the run, Captain,” Sandarklan said. Watching Bruce pilot as the song played, Sandarklan noticed how the music and lyrics appeared to help the captain concentrate on their objective. Unique for a human, he thought. In his experience most humans just zoned into a psychological mindset and that was that. Space certainly stood apart from his contemporaries. “Scan for the Eagle Star.” “I’ve found them, Captain. They’re waiting at the outer edge of the field.” “Open a comm. channel,” a moment later Bruce said, “Cassandra to Eagle Star.” “Eagle Star here. Good to hear your voice, Captain,” Kevin replied. “Kevin, we’re chasing a couple of Avkar fighters. They’re headed toward New Horizon. I want to catch them. Can you intercept them when they exit the asteroid field?” “No problem.” The Avkar fighters kept zipping through the field, dodging rocks as they went, desperately trying to avoid both a collision and getting his by the Cassandra’s phaser fire. Shooting back only helped minimally. Once clear of the field they found the Eagle Star waiting for them, tractor beams ready, but luck happened to be on their side. With a quick alteration of course, the little ships snapped into warp, escaping to fight another day. The Cassandra popped out of the field a minute later, Bruce reducing impulse power. He hailed the Eagle Star. “What happened, Kevin?” he asked. “They managed to alter course before Dana could get a tractor beam lock on them. They’ve got away, Sir.” “Have Ensign Spencer track their course.” “You want to go after them?” “No. Two Avkar ships aren’t worth it. I suspect it leads back into their territory. Something I’m not prepared to handle without backup. Prepare for our arrival, Commander.” “Acknowledged, Sir. See you when you get aboard.” In the shuttlebay, Bruce and Sandarklan were greeted by Kevin and Dana. They were a bit puzzled when both Bruce and Sandarklan stepped off the Cassandra, neither with a bruise or a phaser in their hands. “Captain,” Kevin said, “Looks like you had a pretty eventful trip.” Bruce grinned, “You could say that.” As they walked out of the shuttlebay, heading for the bridge, Kevin said, “He didn’t kill you.” “You seem surprised,” Bruce replied. “I am. I thought this was a bad idea, but you seem to have handled him.” “It didn’t take a lot of effort, Kevin. He’s actually got a personality within that exterior, something I don’t think the Dominion could have counted on a Jem’Hadar having when they created him.” “Do you think it’ll last?” “Time will tell, Commander. Time will tell.” “Sure will. You and Dana coming to Madame Lu’s tonight?” “Damn right. 1900 hours, sharp. Holodeck Two.”
Captain’s Log – Stardate 59152.8 Crewman Sandarklan and I have returned to the Eagle Star. The information we gathered in the outer New Horizon asteroid belt was rather interesting: a rather scattered collection of ores and minerals and a unique insight into one of my crewmembers. I commented once before that I commend my crew for jobs well done, but I really didn’t include Sandarklan in that praise. Now I do. Life continues onward and upward here on the Eagle Star, tonight we’re enjoying one of those little welcome moments which you long for. Madame Lu’s Place, a seedy ocean side, beach front pub in Japan, was not only
Commander Kevin Doran’s creation on the holodeck, but also a favorite hangout for the senior officer trio. He spared no expense when developing the program: The temperature always comfortable, pool tables, dart boards, performance stage complete with a shiny baby grand piano, and a charming proprietress to run the place. Madame Lu, a short, shapely little woman, with jet black hair and dragon green eyes, welcomed visitors with a smile and an open bar ready to listen to all your woes from the day. Even if you’d had the worst day of your life, you always left Madame Lu’s feeling a lot better. “Space!” Madame Lu shouted when Bruce and Dana waltzed into the pub. Bruce wore a thin blue button-down shirt and blue jeans. Dana had chosen a sarong-style skirt with an easy shirt. “Luzie Lu!” Bruce replied. She dashed over and gave the captain a large hug. Though a hologram, Bruce enjoyed many a visit to Madame Lu’s Place. Naturally, he had Kevin to thank for creating the pub and her program. When they broke apart, Bruce said, “You remember my wife, Dana?” “Of course, I do,” she replied, her grin continuing, embracing Dana of which she returned. “I’m well, Madame Lu,” Dana said. “Here, Luzie. For you,” Bruce handed her a cardboard box, “For the private room.” Madame Lu took the box and said with a short inhalation, “Oh, Space. You did not forget! American cigarettes!” She looked up a Bruce, a mix of suspicion and gratitude on her face, and she said to Dana, “Oh, but I worry. People will wonder why I love him. You want your usual, Space?” “Of course. Smirnoff Triple Black.” “And Miss Space?” “Klingon Martini.” Madame Lu headed off behind the bar to get their drinks and the Space’s found a table near the railing looking out on the beach. A couple of volleyball nets dotted the beach, but it didn’t obscure a spectacular view of the ocean tide washing in and out. A light odor of salt water wafted on the air. Madame Lu brought their drinks and then, coming in pairs or alone, the Eagle Star’s senior officers arrived: AJ Thompson and Cammy Spencer, Dr. Al-Rashid, followed by Kevin Doran. They joined Bruce and Dana at their table. “My God, he does own civilian clothes,” Cammy said. Xanthus Talkart had just walked into the pub, dressed in a blue striped shirt and black trousers with his boots. He’d groomed his gray fur and Cammy thought she might have caught a whiff of cologne coming from him. He replied, “Hey. I’ve been known to dress down, once in a while.” “Yeah, once.” She smiled. “Stop, stop,” Bruce said, “Save the disagreements for the real world. We’re here to have some fun.” “So, where’s Sandarklan?” Dana asked. Bruce was about to shake his head, as to say “I don’t know” when the holodeck doors appeared, slid open, and Sandarklan walked through. The Jem’Hadar was dressed in mostly blue flight-type jump suit. It looked good on him, Bruce thought, Dr. Al-Rashid must have helped him with the replicator. “Am I late?” Sandarklan asked. “Nope. Not at all.” “You’re looking good, Mr. Sandarklan,” Na’ila said. “Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate your help.” “Well, since we’re all here, I think it’s time to get this underway,” Bruce reached into his jeans pocket, pulling out a communicator, “One of the things we, as Starfleet officers, believe in is that you can always make friends with people you once called enemies. Tonight, Crewman Sandarklan, you’ve earned this, as you have earned our trust and our respect.” Bruce handed him the comm. badge and Sandarklan put it on just over the heart like all Starfleet crewmembers did. The Eagle Star senior officers broke out in a round of applause. “Thank you, Captain.” “You’re welcome. Now who’s for a game of volleyball?”
Star Trek: Eagle Star Episode #103 “Former Enemies” Written By Michael A. Slagenweit Based on “Star Trek” Created By Gene Roddenberry Star Trek®, Star Trek: The Next Generation®, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine®, Star Trek: Voyager®, Star Trek: Enterprise®, and all associated marks are registered trademarks of Paramount Pictures Incorporated. All rights reserved. No infringement is intended. No profit whatsoever is coming from the use of "Star Trek" by this fan fiction. No part of this fan fiction may be reproduced or otherwise copied without express written permission of the author.