Chapter Text

II – Orders

DeMara Deen did not spend much of her time by herself.

Tenarians were by nature a social people and took great comfort in being surrounded by friends or family. Even though she had left her home world behind and had not been able to socialize with members of her race in a long time, Deen had always sought out company. And if she didn’t, company usually found her. She had more friends on Eaglethan she could count, no matter where she was, she had always been popular and she had always enjoyed being welcomed.

And yet she sat alone at a table in the lower part of The Nest, Eagle’s most spacious and most frequented crew lounge. Her usually perfectly smooth copper-hued forehead was adorned with a small white plaster. The fingers of her right hand carefully touched the surrounding area to alleviate some itching but then quickly darted off when she got too close and a stinging pain spread across her head.

            Her left hand was entirely useless. All of her lower arm had been placed into a metallic cast and she was unable to move it more than a few centimeters. It was a very irritating sensation but a measure on which the nurse treating her had insisted.

            “What’s your poison?”

            She looked up with surprise. She had not noticed the man who had stepped up to her table. She immediately recognized him as Bensu, the civilian bartender who had only recently joined the crew. He had coal-colored skin that stood in stark contrast to half a dozen bony white ridges that ran the length of his hairless head. His facial features resembled those of Southeast Asians from Earth and while he was definitely not human, Deen could not figure out where exactly he hailed from. For that matter, she wasn’t aware of anybody on board who seemed to know much about the enigmatic bartender’s origins.

            “I beg your pardon?”

            He smiled. “It’s an old saying, I’ve been told. It refers to your beverage.”

            She looked down at her empty table. “I don’t have a beverage.”

            The bartender nodded. “Exactly. So what will it be?”

            She looked into his bright yellow eyes and considered the question for a moment. “Actually, I’m not that thirsty.”

            “Yes, I figured something like that,” he said and sat in the chair opposite from her. “I hope you don’t mind if I sit with you then. There isn’t much to do at the moment and I wouldn’t fulfill my role adequately if I didn’t tend to my customers. The few that I have.”

            She hadn’t even noticed that the lower part of the Nest – the one that housed the bar and offered crewmembers a relaxing ambiance across several comfortable seats and couches, as well as a few chairs and tables – was rather empty. “Where is everybody?”

            “My guess? Tending to repairs and such.”

            She nodded slowly.

            “I take it your injury is what keeps you from doing the same.”

            Her free hand touched her metal cast. She had never worn one before. Instant bone knitters and dermal regenerators had rendered them mostly obsolete but unfortunately for her, the medical staff had been too busy treating other more critical patients to attend to her less serious injuries. Instead, she had been given a quick first aid treatment and instructions to return to sickbay later in the day.

            “Doctor’s orders,” she said.

            “What happened?”

            “An EPS conduit in the corridor I was walking in ruptured and ripped me right off my feet. I landed badly,” she said emphasizing the cast as much as she could. “It was shortly after the attack started. I never even made it onto the bridge,” she added in a guilt-ridden tone. She had heard of Ensign Rei’s death and she couldn’t help but feel responsible. After all the young Trill had occupied her station when she had been killed. It had never been her place to lose her life like that.

            “I see.”

            Something in his tone made Deen look him straight into his eyes. She noticed something there she had not seen before. It was a tiny gleam that seemed to hint at something much deeper. Possibly pain or wisdom or something else entirely. But she knew then and there that there had to be much more to Bensu the bartender than what met the eye.

            “Listen to me,” he said in a tone of voice that made her sit up and listen to every word that came over his lips. “I know you feel guilty about what happened to Lutira on the bridge but it is important that you understand that it was never your fault. What happened was not something that was at any point in your sphere of influence. In these dark times, things can and will happen that shall test our resolve. Think about it. Imagine what could have happened to you if only you had stood a little closer to that conduit when it blew up. You can feel guilty about her death no more than any other that has occurred during this conflict. And before all this is over many more will have died, including people very close to you. It is inevitable. In the end, the only difference you will be able to make is how you decide to face it.”

            Deen just stared at Bensu as if she had seen him for the first time. And in fact, she had never known this side of him. She knew he was right. Every single word seemed to carry an unmistakable truth with it.

            “Dee.”

            She had been too focused on Bensu to hear her name being called.

            The bartender however noticed and was the first to break their eye contact. “I know you’re thirsty. I’ll bring you that drink now,” he said.

            She nodded slowly, wondering how he’d been able to tell.

            He stood and headed for the bar at the other end of the room.

            “Dee,” said Nora Laas again as she and So’Dan Leva stepped to her table.

            She slowly looked up at her friends who took two of the three remaining chairs around her.

            “Are you all right?” Nora said with concern in her voice.

            “Huh?”

            She gestured toward the cast.

            Nora was almost ten years her senior and she had adopted a somewhat mother-like relationship toward her. Deen already had a mother so she preferred thinking of the Bajoran as a big sister, always trying to look out for her. She didn’t mind. She was impressed by her toughness. A characteristic that she felt she lacked and sometimes envied. Especially since the war had broken out.

            “I’m fine.”

            Nora nodded but with apparent skepticism.

            “Your drink, Lieutenant.”

            Once again Deen had not noticed Bensu approaching and neither had anybody else. They whipped their heads around in surprise as the host placed a glass filled with an orange-colored beverage on the table in front of her.

            She looked at him and then at the glass.

            “Efrosian berry juice,” he said with a smile.

            “How did you know?”

            “It’s your regular choice, is it not?” he said quickly and then tended to the other officers at the table. “Can I bring you something?”

            “Romulan Ale,” Leva said.

            Nora shot him a surprised look. “That’s certainly not your regular choice. It’s not like you to drink an alcoholic beverage while on duty.”

            “It’s synethol,” he said.

            That had clearly not answered her question but he did not seem inclined to discuss it further.

            “Coming right up. Lieutenant?”

            She just politely declined and the bartender quickly departed again.

            As soon as he was out of earshot Deen leaned in closer to her companions. “Do you think Bensu may be a telepath?”

            Leva shrugged. “I don’t even know what race he is.”

            Nora turned slightly to make sure the Nest’s jovial host was still preoccupied with their order. “You don’t find that suspicious? We don’t know anything about him and he just shows up here a few weeks before the war starts.”

            Deen smiled for the first time since she had come to the Nest. She couldn’t help herself; Nora’s suspicious nature amused her. “You think he might be a Dominion spy? A changeling perhaps?” she said with mock sincerity.

            Nora countered with actual sincerity. “In these times you can’t be too careful.”

            Leva seemed unperturbed by her fears as well. “I know that Xylion knew him before he came on Eagle. If he vouched for him that’s good enough for me,” he said and then looked right into her hazel eyes. “Unless Xylion’s a shapeshifter as well.”

            Deen couldn’t hold back a chuckle to which Nora simply rolled her eyes. She quickly tensed up again when she spotted Bensu return with Leva’s drink.

            “You seem to be having a good time,” he said and placed the ale in front of the half-Romulan officer.

            “Just some casual banter,” Deen said, somewhat guilty about the lie.

            Bensu seemed to be able to look right through her. “Of course.”

            She slightly but fortunately Bensu quickly moved on to a different subject. “I just met a lonely officer who could use some company. Would you mind if I seated him at your table?”

            “A lonely officer on this ship? We can’t have that,” Deen said, “can we?” she added to her friends.

            Leva nodded and after a second so did Nora.

            “Great,” Bensu said and turned away. “Mister D’Karr, why don’t you come over here?”

            Leva looked up at the mention of the name as though somebody had just slapped him in the face. He had obviously developed second thoughts regarding his offer but decided to keep them to himself for now.

            A few moments later the burly Klingon exchange officer had made it over to the table and took the last remaining seat. Bensu promptly disappeared again to tend to other guests, as the new patrons began to fill into the Nest.

            D’Karr had been on Eagle for less than two weeks and Deen had not had the chance to talk to him much outside of duty hours, and she was certain this was true for the others as well. Although it did seem like the imposing Klingon preferred to keep to himself.

            “I’m curious, Lieutenant,” Nora said. “How do you rate Eagle so far? Compared to what you’re used to.”

            D’Karr regarded her for a moment as if she had asked an utterly absurd question. “It is a good ship.”

            Deen snickered which caused the Klingon to shoot her an icy stare. Or at least she thought it was icy. For a Klingon, it might have been friendly. In any case, it caused her to swallow and suppress any other noises.

            “You are the Tenarian,” he said.

            She nodded. “Yeah, but most people just call me Dee. And I’m sure you’ve met Nora Laas.”

            “Laas is fine while we’re not on duty,” she said with a smile. She did not seem intimidated by the Klingon at all.

            “And So’Dan Leva.”

            Deen was not surprised that Leva remained quiet. It was no secret that Klingons and Romulans did not get along well. But he hardly even made eye contact with the exchange officer and that she did find odd. As far as she knew, he had never really behaved like a typical Romulan and he had on many occasions pointed out that he had little in common with them.

            D’Karr didn’t seem bothered by the lack of acknowledgment and quickly focused on Nora. “You are Bajoran. A proud people, raised as warriors.”

            “Not by choice, I assure you.”

            D’Karr nodded. “I understand. But your people did what was necessary and you did it well.”

            Nora nodded but didn’t say anything on the subject. Deen guessed that she didn’t care to be reminded of her youth in the Bajoran resistance, a time mostly spent fighting and killing. She couldn’t even imagine what this must have been like for the young Nora Laas.

            “You know how to face an enemy better than most of us. With warriors as determined as you we will surely achieve a glorious victory over the Dominion and their Cardassian lackeys,” he said, his voice rising significantly, causing a few looks from neighboring tables. D’Karr didn’t pay it any attention. He was clearly not overly familiar with the concept of the inside voice.

            Nora couldn’t quite keep a smile off her face.

            Leva finished his ale with one large gulp and then got up from his chair. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, his voice almost the exact opposite of the boisterous-sounding Klingon.

            Both Nora and Deen aimed surprised glances in his direction but he never turned back to take any notice.

            D’Karr continued as if nothing had happened. “Your captain seems to be a capable officer for a human,” he said. “Has he claimed many victories worth of song and glory?”

            Nora needed a second to focus on his question. “Well, we’re still here,” she said in a joking manner but quickly found that D’Karr didn’t seem to prescribe to her sense of humor. “He has led us successfully through several tough scraps. I could see a few songs that could be made of our adventures. Maybe not enough to fill a whole concert, but there’ll be a couple of gems there,” she said. Her second attempt at humor seemed to break the ice as D’Karr allowed himself something akin to a smirk.

            “If you really want to know about the captain you should talk to Dee. They’ve known each other for a long time.”

            D’Karr turned and looked at the other woman expectantly.

            However, Deen was lost in her thoughts, not at all paying attention to the conversation taking place at the table.

            “Dee?” Nora said.

            She looked at the Bajoran with a puzzled expression on her face.

            “We were talking about the captain. I was telling D’Karr that you two have a long history together.”

            “History?” she said.

            “Yes.”

            Deen stood. “I’m sorry but I have to go,” she said too quickly. She looked at the Klingon who seemed to be doing well in hiding his surprise. “It was nice speaking to you,” she added and then departed hastily.

            D’Karr turned back to Nora. “Does this crew always behave this oddly?”

            She watched Deen leave. “I don’t know what’s going on today.”

            “I have noticed that non-Klingons have a more difficult time handling the excitement and challenge that comes with battle. Your crew may not have yet adjusted to the reality of combat.”

            Nora slowly turned back to the table. “Perhaps,” she said and then looked back at D’Karr, trying to force her worries off her mind. “Why don’t you tell me more about how Klingons handle the excitement of combat? Color me intrigued.”

            D’Karr it turned out liked the sound of his voice and even more so found great delight in recounting his many battle experiences. Nora listened attentively to everything he had to say. But she couldn’t manage to ignore the voice in the back of her head that told her that something more was troubling her friends than the inevitable stress and frustration of fighting a stronger and seemingly more resourceful enemy.

*        *        *

“The upper phaser array overloaded; shield generators five, six, and eight have failed; we have hull breaches on deck six, seven, nine, and fifteen. We’ve also lost life support on deck seven and artificial gravity on deck nine. We do not have warp drive due to a ruptured EPS conduit on deck nine. The main deflector dish is currently non-operational.”

            Owens sighed. He sat quietly in his chair in the ready room, listening to his first officer’s damage report. “It would have been quicker and easier if you had listed the systems that are actually still working. What is our estimated repair time?”

            “The shields and phasers should be back to full operation within two hours,” Edison said. They had learned the hard way that in these times tactical and defensive systems had to take priority. “Two and a half hours for the deflector and about five hours for warp drive.”

            Owens frowned. “Five hours?”

            “That was Hopkins’ preliminary estimate,” he said with a smirk. “But I intend to have a word with her about it.”

            He nodded. Chief engineer Louise Hopkins worked best under pressure; he knew that. She seemed young and delicate for the position but if she was pushed, she could truly perform miracles. And Eagle needed one right now. He was not comfortable with the idea of sitting dead in the water for five hours, an easy target for any enemy patrol.

            Edison’s face darkened. “We’ve also lost six crewmembers.”

            It was the highest number of casualties Eagle had suffered in a single engagement since this war had started. And Owens feared that it was but a sign of things yet to come. Eagle had already lost more than thirty percent of its regular crew due to reassignments. Sure, modern starships like Eagle were heavily automated, and if push came to shove, they could operate the ship with a skeleton crew. But not well, certainly not well enough for a battle with the Dominion. Owens was certain that every additional loss would seriously endanger the efficiency of ship operations in combat.

The image of young Lutira Rei’s lifeless body sprawled out on the bridge, felt like it had been seared into his mind. He couldn’t help but fear who’d be next. Death had become disturbingly commonplace and it struck with little warning and no prejudice.

The nature of war required him to concentrate on the living. There would be plenty of time to mourn those who hadn’t made it when this war had concluded. Either that or there be no one left to do any mourning at all.

            He glanced up at his standing first officer. He could see in his eyes that he had not been able to forget the young Trill’s death easily either. He could think of no consoling words to offer him.

            “Gene, how do you judge ship morale at present?”

            “Not good,” he said. “This last battle has most likely convinced the most optimistic soul on board that we’re in this for the long haul. By now nearly everybody on this ship has lost a friend or somebody they knew. If not here then on a different ship. If I could I would suggest immediate shore leave rotations and extensive counseling sessions before the crew settles into a state of permanent depression.”

            Owens knew that neither option was currently a possibility. “Can you think of an alternative?”

            He shook his head slightly. “Not right now but I’ll give it some thought.”

             “We’re going to get through this, Gene. I know that it feels like we’re looking down into the abyss and that it’s looking straight back at us. But I refuse to believe that it is bottomless. There’s a spark of hope down there somewhere and we’re going to grab it and squeeze it for all it’s worth.”

            “I’ve lost a lot of things in my life. Hope’s never been one of them,” he said with one of his trademark beaming smiles.

            Owens mirrored it.

“Bridge to Captain Owens.” It was Commander Xylion, the Vulcan science officer’s voice that cut through their conversation.

“Go ahead, Commander.”

“Sir, we’re receiving an incoming message from Starfleet Command. It is marked high priority.”

“Perhaps that hope we’re looking for,” said Edison.

“Put it through to my ready room please.”

“Understood. Xylion out.”

Edison turned to the exit. “I’ll report back once I’ve got an update on the repair times.”

Owens nodded and once Edison had left turned to his desk monitor. He pressed a single button to accept the incoming call. The screen switched on and displayed the white and blue Federation seal only to be quickly replaced by the face of a Denobulan admiral.

“Michael, it is good to see you again,” the cheery admiral said as soon as he had appeared.

The wide smile on the admiral’s face was infectious and Owens couldn’t help but reply in kind. Admiral Throl was among the most heartening individuals he had ever met. His seemingly constant joyful disposition was a trait of his people, of course, but sometimes Owens had to remind himself that this cheerful man was in fact an admiral and his immediate superior. He was surprised to find that even the war had not managed to dampen Throl’s spirits.

“It’s good to see you, too, Admiral. Last I heard you were in a tight spot in the Argus sector.”

Throl nodded but kept his smile. “That was a close call but,” he said and his smile impossibly grew even larger, “it takes more than a Cardassian fleet to get the better of me.”

Owens suppressed a chuckle. While speaking with Throl it was easy to almost forget that the Federation was struggling for its very survival. Almost.

“I’m glad to hear that. I hope you’re bearing good news today because heaven knows we could really use some around here.”

“Captain,” Throl said, his smile deflating slightly. “You and Eagle have performed exceptionally over the last few days and so has the Agamemnon. However, things are not well.” Throl shook his head. “Not well at all.”

Owens sighed.

The Denobulan caught himself, however, and almost jumped out of his seat when he spoke again. “But, Captain, I will not be held responsible for souring your mood any more than it already has due to the circumstances we all find ourselves in,” he said so quickly that it took Owens a second to follow. “There is plenty of work to be done and plenty of chances to be had to influence all our fates.”

“Why do I have the feeling that I’m not going to like what you’re about to say next?”

Throl’s smile widened to its previous extent. “Because you, Captain, are one of those people who always assume the worst. I personally think you will be quite fond of your new orders.”

Owens shifted in his seat. He hadn’t expected new orders. Eagle and Agamemnon had been reasonably successful in their border sweep mission and considering how bad the news from the frontlines had been, he had figured that Starfleet wanted to continue to push their few successes.

“I honestly believe that your new mission will be exactly what you and your crew need, Michael. However, there is a little bit of a – what do you humans call it?” He stopped momentarily, trying to recall the right word. “Ah yes. A catch.”

“Isn’t there always?”

*        *        *

Eugene Edison had lost crewmembers under his command before. He had seen two wars, numerous border conflicts, and a full-out invasion attempt on Earth, and in all those conflicts many of his fellow crewmembers had given their lives.

            And yet for some reason, the death of Rei had shaken him up more than any other fatality he could recall. It had been more intimate, more personal than anything else he had experienced before and he couldn’t quite explain why. He felt as though he had failed the young officer even though as much as he wanted to think otherwise, there had been nothing he could have done differently.

Her death had affected him on a deeply personal level. His relationship with the young ensign had never been much more than the professional courtesy he afforded to all his junior officers and yet her death had made him realize more than ever before that survival had become a precious commodity. Being a Starfleet officer had always been a dangerous occupation and he had long accepted the uncertain hazards that came with the job. But life had never felt so fleeting and precious before and he had never been more aware of that fact than he was now.

            “Can I help you, Commander?”

            Edison looked up. He had walked straight into Eagle’s main engineering compartment but had been so preoccupied with his thoughts that he had paid little attention to his surroundings.

Only now did he notice the chaos that seemed to reign here. At least three dozen technicians and engineers were swarming around the large multi-level room, tending to repairs. And not only had he stepped right into their midst, but he was also quite noticeably in their way, forcing many of them to awkwardly step around him.

            Nobody had been bold enough to confront the first officer except for Fernuc, the Bolian assistant chief engineer. The completely bald, blue-skinned man eyed Edison carefully, patiently waiting for him to reply.

            “I’m looking for Lieutenant Hopkins.”

            Fernuc nodded slowly. “She’s working on the main EPS manifold,” he said and pointed to the back of engineering. “Good luck getting her attention,” he added with a smile.

            “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Edison said and headed in the direction he had indicated. He walked past the monolithic blue warp core and entered a less busy part of the engine room. Only a handful of engineers occupied this much more limited space. He almost didn’t notice the young engineer until he spotted a pair of legs sticking out from an open conduit. He slowly approached the wall and curiously looked down at the legs. They were not moving. He cleared his throat, trying to get her attention but the legs remained firmly in place.

            “Lieutenant.”

            Two crewmembers who stood nearby turned but the person inside the hatch refused to move.

            He loudly tapped against the bulkhead.

            “What the –” her question was abruptly cut off by a loud banging noise and a yelp of pain.

            Edison dropped to a squat. “Lieutenant, are you all right?”

            “How many times?” she said as she slowly made her way out of the hatch. “How many times have I told you guys not to— “ she interrupted herself when she was greeted by Edison’s wide smile as she emerged from the hatch. “Oh, it’s you.”

            “It’s me,” he said and held out his hand to help her back on her feet. “I’m sorry if I startled you but you seemed quite focused on whatever it was you were doing in there.”

            Hopkins pushed her shoulder-long sandy blonde hair out of her face. “It’s that damned EPS manifold. Ever since that conduit blew out the whole grid is out of sync and I can’t figure out why,” she spotted her second-in-command and quickly turned to him. “Fernuc, have you checked the lateral phase compensators on deck twenty-one?”

            The Bolian nodded. “Twice. All within tolerance.”

            Hopkins sighed. She rubbed her forehead with a grimace of pain as she walked to a different console.

            Edison followed her. “Maybe you should let Wenera have a look at that.”

            “Don’t get me wrong, Commander, I think she’s a very capable doctor,” she said and began to work a console. “But I doubt she’d have a clue about a variance disturbance in the main power distribution system.”

            “I meant your head.”

            “Oh,” she said, blushing slightly. She stopped working and looked at the first officer. “I’m fine. I’ll just have a nasty bruise in the morning.”

            He nodded.

            “Fernuc, are you sure the plasma injectors are not running too hot?”

            “They are point six degrees below the maximum recommended operating temperature,” the Bolian answered who had by now moved to a console at the other end of the room.

            Hopkins shook her head and moved to another station. “So that’s not it either then. Kate, reset the power modulation for all EPS conduits perhaps that will show us why the manifolds won’t output the right phase variance.”

            Katherine Smith, Eagle’s warp drive chief nodded quickly and went to work.

            “What’s the problem?” Edison said even though he was pretty sure what the answer was.

            Hopkins didn’t look up from her station. “My wrench.”

            That had not been what he had expected and he shot her a perplexed look. But the chief engineer didn’t appear interested in elaborating any further and instead simply moved on to the next computer console.

            “Your wrench?”

            Fernuc stepped next to the first officer. “She lost her wrench,” he said before he began to work on the station the chief engineer had just vacated.

            “I’m not sure I follow.”

            Smith looked up from her console. “It was her lucky wrench, you see,” she said but was forced to focus back on the information on the screen in front of her. “Power modulation reset on all EPS manifolds.”

            “When you say wrench –”

            “No change to the phase variance,” Fernuc said and looked up. “Yes, an old-fashioned, usually metallic tool used to tighten or loosen bolts.”

            “Eagle’s EPS manifolds have bolts?” Edison said still not entirely sure what the engineers were talking about.

            “No,” said Smith. “Phase variance at two point five terahertz.”

            “Main manifold readings still unchanged,” Fernuc said and then turned to Edison. “Without her wrench, things don’t work right.”

            He thought he was beginning to. “It’s a superstitious thing.”

            Hopkins turned her head to look straight at him. “No, it’s a fact. Without the darn thing, this ship simply won’t work right.”

            “Well, where did you see it last?”

            “Deck fifteen, section eight,” Smith answered in her stead.

            “Oh,” he said, realizing that a hull breach during the battle with the Jem’Hadar had caused that entire section to be exposed to the vacuum of space. The emergency force fields had not activated in time causing explosive decompression throughout the entire section. Luckily no crewmembers had been lost but he was certain that everything else that had not been fastened securely had been blown into space.

            “You can’t just replicate a new one?” he said and quickly regretted doing so.

            Every technician in earshot immediately stopped what they were doing and turned to look at him with foreboding looks on their faces.

            “My great-grandfather made that wrench with his own two hands,” the chief engineer said slowly as if she had said the exact same sentence hundreds of times before.

            “It’s a priceless family heirloom,” Fernuc and Smith added in unison. “It cannot be replicated.”

            Hopkins shot them both annoyed glares that prompted them to quickly return their full attention to their respective stations. “Commander, if I may ask, what brings you down here?” she said as she stepped next to him again, now willing to move the conversation away from a matter he clearly wasn’t able to fully appreciate.

            Edison held up a padd that he had brought with him. “I’ve looked at your repair estimates and I thought—“

            “Let me guess. You didn’t like how much time repairs are taking and you thought coming down here and putting pressure on me would get things done quicker?”

             “Something like that.”

            “Let me tell you something, Commander. Contrary to what you and the captain may think, I’m not a miracle worker. In fact, despite rumors to the contrary, there’s no such thing. I don’t just wave a magic wand—“

            “Or wrench,” Edison said, eliciting a chuckle from the Bolian assistant chief engineer.

            “And everything’s hunky dory, ready to go,” she continued, ignoring the interruption.

            Edison’s smile didn’t waver. Not for the first time he was astonished to find how assertive Louise Hopkins could be when she was in her element. She seemed to be an entirely different person when she was in these surroundings. Here, in main engineering, she was a confident engineer, master, and unchallenged ruler of her domain but outside she tended to be far more introspective and unsure of herself.

            “I do understand that, I really do. It’s just that…” he stopped himself as he looked at his padd.

            Hopkins’ sparkly blue eyes watched him suspiciously.

            “It seems that R’chenverty will have his warp drive back online in four hours and that will mean that the Agamemnon will have to wait for us until we can—“

            “There is no way that they’ll have warp drive back in four hours,” Hopkins said. “Their entire starboard nacelle is depolarized.”

            Edison shrugged. “I guess R’chenverty is just one heck of an engineer.”

            Hopkins snorted at that comment as she turned to a nearby console. “If we reset the anti-matter injectors and alter the deuterium flow levels by three to four percent, we might be able to shorten the repair time,” she said to nobody in particular. She continued to work at the console and then quickly turned to Fernuc. “Get on that, will you?”

            The Bolian nodded and promptly headed out of the room.

            Hopkins turned back to the first officer. “That would put us at about three hours of work,” she said proudly. “I want to see R’chenverty top that.”

            Edison laughed. “I’m sure he’ll be as impressed as I am.” What he hadn’t told Eagle’s chief engineer was the fact that the repair estimates from Agamemnon were actually closer to five hours than to four. It hadn’t been so much of a lie as a slight exaggeration of the truth. He knew that Hopkins thrived under pressure and that she liked to believe that she was one of the best engineers in the fleet. Edison was certain that she was. “You know my uncle is an avid mechanic and he loves to use old-fashioned tools. He’s got quite a fascinating collection of antiques.”

            Hopkins’ face lit up.

            “I’ll have to have a word with him. I think I can talk him into giving up one of his wrenches.”

            She nodded slowly. “If the ship hasn’t fallen apart by then,” she said with a smile, her previous tension seemingly evaporated. Once she realized that Smith had left as well, she took a step closer to him. “So, how’s Laas?” she said, trying her best to sound casual.

            Edison threw her a surprised look, causing her to blush slightly.

            “I just thought you two, you know?” she almost stumbled over her words. It was clear that she was after some gossip that her close friend Nora Laas apparently had been unwilling to share with her.

            “What precisely is it you’d like to know?” he said with a smile.

            It became quickly obvious that she had not fully planned this out in her head and now seemed uncertain where to take this next. “Never mind all that. Actually, I’m pretty busy down here, in case you weren’t able to tell,” she said and turned back to the computer station.

            Edison nodded, not able to suppress his amusement. “Of course. I’ll leave you to it then,” he said and headed for the exit.

*        *        *

The Bajoran chief of security stood waiting in front of the closed doors of the turbo-lift on deck ten. She had spent the last hour in the company of D’Karr in the Nest and had found the Klingon surprisingly pleasant. She had never known any Klingons personally and could not deny that her views on the warrior race had been colored by preconceptions and stereotypes. Some of which had turned out to be true.

He was undeniably a warrior and proud of his accomplishments in battle and seemed to cherish those memories. Only in combat, he had pointed out, could the true character of a person be judged. And combat was inevitable.

Nora had wanted to disagree with that observation. Battle was an ugly necessity, she knew that. No matter how peaceful or tolerant the Federation was, there would always be others who would be at odds with them. The Federation would always have to fight for its right to exist and there would always be people like her who stood ready to defend it.

She was also well aware that while combat and violence were a dreadful business, they were effective means. Without violence, the Cardassians would not have left Bajor and without violence, the Dominion would not stop their attempts of conquest. But she wanted to believe that people were most productive, creative, and satisfied during times of peace. She had seen too much death and war in the mere thirty-two years she had been alive that she was about ready to leave all of it behind her. It was a pleasant fantasy at best.

            The doors opened and she stepped into the lift car, occupied by two other crewmembers; Vulcan tactical officer Trinik and first officer Gene Edison.

            “Commander. Lieutenant,” she quickly and formally greeted the two officers who both responded with a short nod. Nora couldn’t help but smile as she positioned herself right next to Edison. Trinik remained close to the doors, his back turned to them both.

            Nora stole a quick glance at Edison and noticed that he was smiling as well. The tall Englishman with his plentiful mob of dirty blonde hair and bright hazel-colored eyes was one of the reasons for her newly found philosophy on life. She wasn’t quite so sure what their relationship was exactly, after all, she did not possess a great deal of experience in the matter, but it was undeniable that she had strong feelings for him and vice versa.

            She had discovered those almost a year earlier when he had very nearly died in her arms on the surface of a frozen planet. In fact, he had died then. Only to be resuscitated just in time to avoid brain damage he had remained in critical condition thereafter making her fear the worst. Seeing him in that state had been among the most excruciating things she had ever experienced. For the first time in her life, she had been utterly helpless while at the same time knowing exactly what she wanted. She had wanted him and she still did.

            And yet things had moved painfully slow after his recovery. It had taken her some time to come to grips with how to deal with those new feelings and even longer how to speak to him about them. For a while, she had been so scared that he did not feel the same way that she had started to avoid him as much as possible. And when it had finally looked as if maybe there could be some sort of future to their relationship, war had broken out and suddenly all and everybody’s priorities had changed.

            “On the way to the briefing?” Edison said, offering her a side glance.

            She nodded. “Any idea what this is about?”

            “The captain received a message from Command. I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re getting new orders.”

            The lift came to a stop and the doors opened to allow Lieutenant Trinik to exit. As soon as the doors closed, the turbo-lift set in motion again.

            Edison turned to her. “Nora, there is something I wanted to—“

            He did not get the chance to finish his sentence.

She forcefully pushed him against the bulkhead and within a heartbeat, Nora was pressed against him, her lips coming down hard against his. Her passion was at the boiling point. They had both decided to keep their relationship on a low profile while the war raged on. They hardly ever got a chance to be alone as they avoided being seen together. It was an arrangement that they had decided was best for the crew which had to be able to rely on having strong, emotionally unattached leaders to look up to in these dark and uncertain times. But it was also an agreement that drove Nora crazy.

            Edison managed to free himself for a second. “Computer, halt lift.”

            The turbo-lift obliged immediately.

            Nora allowed him just enough time to speak the command before she reached out for his face and continued to kiss him greedily. His resistance quickly melted as he was caught up in the moment.

            “Laas, I’m trying to talk to you,” he managed to say in between the steamy showcase of affection.

            “Talk later,” she said and wrapped herself closer to the man she had so completely fallen for.

            But Edison was determined and finally managed to push her away.

            Nora sighed heavily and took a few steps back, an angry expression on her face. “What?”

            “I’m just not sure if what we are doing is right,” he said slowly, his eyes drifting away from her.

            “You don’t mean that,” she shot back. “We already decided not to see each other in public. Now you want us to just put everything on hold?”

            “Laas, if we keep this up sooner or later somebody will find out.”

            “So what? Let them find out, I don’t care.”

            “We both agreed–“

            “No, you agreed,” she said, anger now rising in her tone.

            Edison let out a small sigh. “Crew morale is already near rock bottom. People are dying, and I just don’t think it’s appropriate for the people to see their security chief and first officer having a great time.”

            “You are worried about crew morale?” she said with disbelief. “You ever considered that this crew could use some sort of positive news? To remind them what it is we’re fighting for?”

            He nodded. “I do. But I was thinking of something less personal. The captain has asked me to think of something to boost crew morale. I don’t think he was thinking of a love affair between his senior officers.”

            Nora turned his back to him. “Why don’t you put on a piano performance, I’m sure everybody would love that,” she said with an evil grin she hid from him. After spending time with Edison she found out that he was a gifted player but that he had kept his talent a secret on Eagle. He appeared somewhat embarrassed about admitting to his skills. Why, she did not know.

            “I don’t think so,” he said. “Computer, continue.”

            The computer acknowledged with a soft trill and the lift set back into motion toward deck two.

            “Okay so you’re telling me to stay away from you then, is that it?” she said, still not willing to face him.

            “Laas, you know I care for you a great deal—“

            “Oh is that how you feel? You care for me?”

“I just think it would be for the best for everybody if we don’t see each other for a while.”

The lift stopped and the doors opened.

She didn’t move. Instead, she turned and looked him straight in the eye. “You should go ahead. If we arrive together, somebody could get the wrong idea, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

He sighed, gave her a short nod, and then stepped out of the lift.

Nora remained in the empty, unmoving lift for a few seconds longer. She felt her eyes moisten. She quickly shook it off. She would not allow herself to cry. Not a single tear. Instead, she took a deep breath and walked out of the turbo-lift.

*        *        *

When Nora entered the observation lounge, located at the very back end of deck two, right beneath the bridge, she was relieved to find that she was not the last one to turn up. So’Dan Leva was the only senior officer missing and the captain had also not yet arrived. Although everyone was well aware that Owens preferred to join meetings a few minutes late. She was certain that his habit did not stem from eccentricity or tardiness, instead he probably just didn’t like waiting on people. It was an attitude he had earned with his rank.

She also noticed Edison already sitting to the right of the empty chair at the head of the table, glancing briefly her way before turning back to a padd he was reading.

Nora tried hard to avoid letting her disappointment show as she took a chair as far away from the first officer as possible.

            “Are you okay?”

            She turned to look at Louise Hopkins sitting across from her.

            “Fine,” she said a little bit too sharply.

            She did not get a chance to apologize for her abruptness as the captain entered the briefing room at just that moment. He strode to his seat and sat down. He quickly glanced across the room and acknowledged the empty seat next to his first officer which was usually where Leva sat. He shot a look at Edison but his expression seemed to say that he did not know about the tactical officer’s whereabouts either.

             “As some of you are aware, We’ve been contacted by Admiral Throl who has given us new orders that will go into effect immediately.”

            “Does that mean we will not continue our border sweep with the Agamemnon?” said DeMara Deen, who sat two seats removed from Owens, in between Commander Xylion and Doctor Wenera.

            Owens nodded. “That is correct. Instead, we will proceed to Starbase 74 where we will undergo any essential repairs before we continue to—“

            The captain stopped himself when the doors to the observation lounge opened and Leva stepped in. He moved quickly to his seat and sat down. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he said under his breath.

            Edison shot him a sidelong glance, letting him know that he was not pleased with his tardiness.

            “From Starbase 74,” Owens continued undeterred, “we will proceed to the Ligos star system to support a newly established outpost.”

            “I am not aware of a Federation outpost in that system,” Xylion said.

            “As I said,” Owens added with a smile. “It’s new. Now, before I go on any further, I need to make clear that this is all classified information. You’re not to discuss the details of this mission with anybody of the crew. This entire assignment is strictly need-to-know.”

            “Starfleet Intelligence?” said Edison.

            The captain nodded. “They’re the ones who have classified the mission details but I’m not entirely sure if this mission has been cooked up by them. The admiral admitted that he knew of no direct connections.”

            “Which is of course exactly what they would want us to think,” said Doctor Wenera. She had a bad experience with classified missions. Over a year earlier she had uncovered that Eagle had been part of a secret assignment ordered by Admiral Owens, the captain’s father. She still believed that her efforts to find out the true nature of that mission had led to disaster, including the death of Xylion’s estranged fiancé.

            Again Owens nodded as he considered the raven-haired doctor. Even though he had been away from Eagle for most of the duration of that particular mission he was well aware of what had transpired in his absence. He could certainly understand the doctor’s misgivings about the intelligence community. “I do believe that somebody else has a significant interest in this mission. The details are simply too sketchy and the outline too ambiguous for this to be as straightforward as it sounds.”

            “What else do we know?” Edison said. “How exactly are we supposed to support this outpost?”

            “It appears that this base,” Owens glanced at a padd he had brought with him, “designated Epsilon Twelve, has not been fully equipped. We’ve been tasked to get them what they need.”

            “A cargo hauling mission?” Nora said, leaning forward in her chair. “They can’t be serious. Eagle is a ship-of-the-line and they want to waste us to be a freighter?”

            “I find myself in agreement with the Lieutenant,” said Xylion however differently to the Bajoran he remained perfectly calm as he spoke.

            “That’s a first,” Ashley Wenera said.

Xylion continued as if he had not been interrupted. “If the news concerning the state of the war effort is correct it would seem illogical for Eagle not to be part of the ongoing fight against the Dominion.”

Deen nodded. “It doesn’t seem to make much sense to me either.”

“Trust me, I feel the same way,” Owens said. “I raised similar concerns with Admiral Throl and he assured me that he would like nothing better than to put us onto the frontlines where we can make a real difference in the war effort.”

“So Throl doesn’t know what this is all about,” Deen said.

“It would appear that way. Unless the sly son of a gun is a darn good liar. Sometimes you can’t trust a man who smiles all the time,” the captain said and added a smile of his own to make a point.

It eased the tension in the room somewhat. But Nora was still not convinced. “I don’t like this one bit,” she said and resigned herself to sit back in her chair.

“This is not a democracy,” Gene Edison said. “Like it or not, we’re soldiers in a time of war. And as such we follow the orders given to us.”

She shot him an icy look most didn’t seem to notice.

Owens on the other hand was pleased with his support. He didn’t like the orders either. The idea of running errands in the hinterlands of the Federation while millions were fighting and dying to protect it was not what he had signed up for. He didn’t like fighting and certainly not dying but if it was necessary, if that was what was required to safeguard the Federation it was something he did not have to think twice about.

“What about Agamemnon?” Hopkins said. “Is she going to join us?”

Owens shook his head. It was another part of the new orders he didn’t like. He had many friends throughout the fleet but he counted Amaya Donners as one of the closest. When he had found out that Eagle and Agamemnon were to work together he had been glad that she was going to be close by where he could keep an eye out for her. But that would no longer be possible. “The Syracuse is on her way to relieve us here. She should arrive in less than two hours. That means I want to be on our way as soon as she gets here. How are repairs coming along?”

“Shields and weapons should be online within the hour. The main deflector shortly after. I’ll be able to give you up to warp four in about two,” Hopkins said proudly, enjoying the look of surprise on the captain’s face.

Edison couldn’t help himself but smirk.

“Good work, Lieutenant,” Owens said.

“May I make a suggestion?”

“Go ahead, doctor.”

“You must have noticed that crew morale has dipped to a worrisome low over the last few days.”

Owens nodded.

“I’ve spoken to Counselor Trenira and we both agree that we need to implement measures to counter this trend. Or at least try.” Her words were greeted with general agreement in the room. “And this mission might be the perfect opportunity if we are not to directly contribute to the fighting.”

“I don’t know,” Leva said, the first words he had spoken since he had joined the briefing late. “Too much of a distraction might be counterproductive. We don’t want the crew to lose focus and become complacent.”

“I’m not talking about full-out shore leave on Risa, Commander,” she said. “Just a little bit of a break to take our minds off the war.”

“I think that’s a splendid idea,” Owens said and looked at his first officer who nodded slightly. “What do you have in mind, doctor?”

“I have an idea,” Nora said suddenly and leaned into the table. “Why don’t we have a musical recital?” she said with a sinister grin on her face.

Edison quickly tensed up, suddenly becoming uncomfortable with the subject.

“We have several very talented musicians on board,” she continued while looking directly at Edison. “I know for a fact that Commander Edison is very good with the piano.”

“Really?” said Deen, clearly not having been aware of the first officer’s musical abilities.

“The lieutenant is exaggerating my skills,” he said, forcing a smile onto his lips.

“Nonsense,” Nora quickly countered. “Didn’t you tell me once that you went to a famous music school on Earth? What was it called? Julian?”

“Julliard,” Edison said quietly.

“I think I speak for all of us if I say that I would love to hear you play, Commander,” Owens said with a wide smile. The revelation of his first officer’s musical aptitude as much news to him as to the rest of his officers. “Doctor, perhaps you could coordinate the event?”

“With pleasure.”

“It’s settled then,” he said and gave his first officer a quick look.

Edison acknowledged with a hesitant nod. “We should also see if we can change crew rotations and increase downtime for each member of the crew. This would give everybody a chance to catch their breath for a few days.”

“Good idea, why don’t you hammer out a roster for that? If there is nothing more,” Owens said and quickly checked the room for anybody wanting to add anything.  “Dismissed,” he added after nobody had spoken up.

The officers all around the table began to stand and then headed toward one of the two exits. Owens remained in his seat.

“Commander Leva, could you stay a moment?” Edison said once he too had left his seat.

Leva had tried to make a fast exit but Edison had called out for him just before he had reached the doors. He froze and waited for the other officers to pass him by. Nora threw him an asking glance as she walked by him but it went unanswered. Only after the room had cleared did he turn to face Edison and Owens. “Sir?”

            “I was wondering if there is anything you would like to talk about,” Edison said.

            Leva looked at Edison for a moment. Then at the captain but he had picked up a padd and all his focus seemed to be focused on reading it. Leva took a few steps toward the table. “I do not think so.”

            “Are you sure?”

            “During our last encounter with the Jem’Hadar, the deflector took more damage from the actions taken by Mister D’Karr than from our enemy. The repair work was extensive and I wanted to make sure they were being done right. That explains why I was late,” Leva said. His voice seemed calm but to somebody who knew him, it was all too obvious that something was brooding under the surface.

            “If this had been an isolated incident I would not have bothered to mention it. But you have not been acting yourself over the last week and quite frankly it is beginning to be a concern.”

            “There is no need to worry, Commander. Things are fine.”

            Edison watched Leva for a few seconds before he shook his head slightly and continued. “It should be quite clear to anybody on this ship that the contrary is true.”

            Without any warning Leva’s fist came down hard on the dark glass surface of the table, causing a loud bang and slightly cracking the material.

            Owens put down his padd and stood.

            Edison had not even blinked but his face showed obvious surprise at the tactical officer’s reaction.

            For a moment the room was dead quiet.

            Leva’s eyes were downcast when he spoke again. “We’ve all been under a great deal of stress,” he said, his tone sounding unconvincing.

            “Commander, after this display of unrestrained anger I don’t really see much of a choice but to order you to see Counselor –“

            “I sincerely apologize for my actions, sir. I have been out of line,” Leva interrupted, now making direct eye contact. “You are correct. I’ve been feeling some strain over the last few days and I’ve been having some personalissues. I know this doesn’t excuse my recent behavior but I guarantee you that I can handle this.”

            Edison took another step toward the table that separated him from Leva. “Your actions are beginning to jeopardize ship operations and we cannot afford that. Not now.”

            Leva nodded. “I realize that,” he said somewhat defensively. “The doctor pointed out that this new mission will give us all the opportunity to take a break and deal with the stress we’ve all been feeling. All I ask, sir, is that you allow me that opportunity as well. I will get a handle on this problem and make certain that it will no longer be an issue.”

            Edison seemed to consider his words for a moment. “Very well. You’ve always been an exemplary officer and you’ll get your chance. But you better make damn sure that you keep to your word.”

            “Yes, sir. Thank you,” he said and shot a quick look at the captain who gave him a short nod. Leva turned on his heels and headed straight out of the room.

            When the doors had closed behind him Owens stepped to the spot Leva had occupied and looked at the closed door. “What has gotten into him?” he said. He had always known that Leva had a hot-tempered side in him. His Romulan side. As long as Owens had known him, he had been able to control those impulses but now he worried that his human side might be losing the struggle.

            “He’s been like this since D’Karr has come on board,” Edison said.

            Owens nodded. “Yes, I can see that they might not get along very well,” he said. He too had noticed the hostility between them. Klingons and Romulans had been mortal enemies for a long time or at least that was what they claimed. Both races were extremely distrustful of each other and had seen many major conflicts and disputes in the past. Owens had been concerned about bringing a Klingon onto Eagle but his concern had mostly been that the Klingon would be the cause of the problems and not his tactical officer. “I don’t like this kind of behavior on my ship,” he said and looked at Edison. “Leva is a Starfleet officer and I expect him to behave like one.”

            Edison nodded. The captain had always given him a free hand in dealing with the crew. It was his responsibility to make sure they worked efficiently and so far it had never been much of an issue. “I’ll keep my eye on him.”

            The captain looked down at the crack in the table, letting his fingers brush over it. “You don’t think we should do more?”

            “In my opinion, we can ill afford to lose him now. Not only is he the best tactical officer on this ship, he might very well be one of the best in the fleet. We need him at his post.”

            Owens nodded slowly and then looked up at his first officer, a smile quickly replacing his frown.

            “Sir?”

            “I’m really looking forward to the recital,” Owens said. “I’m going to get a front-row seat,” he added and then turned to leave the observation lounge.

            Edison let out a small sigh. “Fantastic,” he mumbled as he followed the captain, trying hard to think of a way to get himself out of a situation that had the potential of being intensely more terrifying than facing a full battalion of Jem’Hadar soldiers.