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F-35 (HMS Proteus)
Elliptical Patrol Orbit of Sigma Serpentis IX, Nine Knots
Quarterdeck
July 23, 2318 (Stardate 44.1)

As the ship's bell sounded once to mark off the first half hour of the middle watch, Mr. Midshipman Gwendolyn Ballard stepped onto the quarterdeck and approached the port side railing where Proteus' Second Officer, Lieutenant Euphemie Castlereagh, stood as she gazed out at the stars.

"Mister Castlereagh, sir," Ballard said, holding a ship's mug out to the lieutenant. "With the Steward's respects."

"Ah, most kind, thankee," Castlereagh said with a wide grin. She inhaled the aromatic scent of black coffee and closed her eyes. "Smells heavenly. My best regards to the Steward, if you please."

Ballard smiled in return, glad to provide a creature-comfort to an officer she held in grand esteem. "My pleasure, sir."

After the steaming quaff passed through her lips, Castlereagh swallowed and then released a happy sigh as her eyes shifted back to the stars. "Thank you for standing watch with me. It's been dreadfully boresome thus far."

"You do me a great kindness with your tutelage, sir," Ballard admitted. "I hope to stand for examination next month."

"If the captain approves," Castlereagh reminded her. Off Ballard's crestfallen expression, she consoled her, "Chin up, now. The captain is firm, but fair. Either way, continue your studies regardless. You'll benefit far beyond a panel of three captains shouting at you."

"I hope to return to Proteus a passed midshipman, and hopefully, a commissioned leftenant into her," Ballard blushed as she admitted her plan.

Castlereagh tempered the midshipman's expectations. "As a passed midshipman, certainly. But once you receive your commission, they may also come with orders to report to another vessel."

Ballard's eyes widened. "I had not thought of that, sir. I always assumed-"

The shrill whistle of the ship's intercom system made both women wince. Castlereagh stabbed the control panel as the frequency sliced through the muted tones of their discussion. "You'd think I'd get used to that," she muttered to Ballard. With a raised tone, she replied to the caller, "Quarterdeck, Leftenant Castlereagh."

"'Tis the flying bridge, Able Sailor Rimes, here, sir," replied a rough Cockney-accented masculine voice. "Unknown vessels in sight."

"Number and where away, Rimes?"

Rimes hesitated for but a second before responding, "At least fifteen vessels, traveling at middle-speeds from out-system. Relative bearing is four points by fifty-six starboard, sir."

"Thank you, Rimes. Leave it with me." Castlereagh closed the circuit and turned back to Ballard. "My respects to the captain, and please inform her we have strange vessels in sight and request her presence on the quarterdeck."

"Right away, sir," Ballard said, already in motion as soon as the lieutenant spoke the last word of her order. She passed through the doors leading aft to the great-cabin where a pair of marine sentries stood outside. She nodded to the senior marine and said the reason: "Strange vessels in sight."

A quick nod preceded the marine's movement in opening the cabin door, allowing the midshipman entry. Ballard knocked on the interior hatch leading to the captain's private quarters; the compartment almost no one entered without authorization, even in a critical situation. "Captain?"

The familiar contralto voice of Captain the Honourable Dame Stacy Meyn, KCO LV, RN, replied; her tone thick with the effects of interrupted sleep. "Yes, who's there?"

"It's Midshipman Ballard, sir. Mister Castlereagh's respects; there's at least fifteen strange vessels on approach to the home system," the midshipman spoke though the closed hatch.

The midshipman could hear the subtle thump of feet hitting carpeted flooring beyond the hatch. Seconds later, Captain Meyn exited her private quarters, pulling on her uniform coat; space black with the green trim of their national flag.

Their uniform boots clapped down on the harder deck outside of the great-cabins as they traversed the corridor to approach the quarterdeck. Ballard noted with incredulity that the First Officer stood next to Castlereigh, as though he were already on watch. Both lieutenants stood opposite one another at the plotting table, where the ship's position and the tactical display appeared. They straightened their postures upon sighting the Captain.

"Mister Castlereagh," Captain Meyn said sharply, "have we made identification, yet? Are they Kzin?"

The second officer shook her head. "No, sir, distance is still well aways. We have minimal sensor resolution, presently."

"Captain," said the First Officer, Lieutenant Andry, as he pointed at the path of the group of ships, "the trajectory of the vessels shows they might be approaching from Kzin territory."

"A boldness from the Kzin we've yet to see since they began their encroachment campaign," Castlereagh pointed out, while turning to Andry. "Fifteen ships? They don't normally skirmish with over three at the most, sir."

While keeping her eyes focused on the plot, Meyn pressed the nearest intercom panel. "Flying bridge, Captain."

The response was immediate. "Flying bridge, Rimes, here, sir."

"Has the strange fleet altered course?"

"No, sir, they've maintained speed and course for our position."

"How long before they make our territory?"

"If they hold, roughly an hour, sir."

"Thank you," Meyn ended the discussion. "Proteus," she ordered, "pipe 'All Hands,' if you please?"

The ship’s computer answered with a pleasing series of tones. Then, the whistle of a bosun's pipe sounded over all ship's speakers; one long blast to call full attention. "All Hands, report to your stations. All Hands, report to your stations," the ship's computer said in her feminine tones.

"Mister Andry, stations for wear, come about, and put us on an intercept course," Meyn ordered, once the announcement finished. "Mister Ballard, Inform Signals to laser-link to the nearest relay and dispatch a message urgent for the Commodore. Send all our sensor data. Include our current position, course, and speed."

Ballard nodded, taking down notes on a PADD. "Aye, aye, sir." She tucked away her device into her uniform coat and turned away.

Meyn raised her hand and placed it on Ballard's shoulder, stopping the midshipman from running aft with the message. She added one last detail:

"Tell him if it is the enemy, I intend to engage them, forthwith."

Rear Admiral Essa sat in her seat at the head of the conference lounge on the flag deck, with Leo sitting at her left, and Captain Sakna on the right. The viewscreen showed the inscrutable visage of the Saurian commodore, Mogusa, aboard his flagship Kearsarge, with his flag captain, a Betazoid male named Yarix.

"We should arrive in the system in under an hour, so let me begin by saying that this has been a very smooth journey since departing Starbase Eight," Essa said, resting her hands in her lap. "Commodore, the plan is to come out of warp at the ninth planet and use our pre-arranged encryption to contact the relay station there. Once we use the code phrase 'Castle Wall,' the First Naval Lord should reply with the counter-phrase of 'Tower Tall.' At which point, we'll make our approach inward to Greenwood and form up with the Home Fleet."

Mogusa's translated voice carried over the link, "Will I have leave to take my task group to reinforce the Royal Navy in the outer planets?"

"Erm, no, not yet," Essa sighed. "We'll wait on station until we have our orders from Sir Joseph, or possibly one of his other admirals that will act as liaison. In fact, I hope everyone brought their best dress uniforms. There will probably be a reception at their orbital station. HMSB Hestia, which I'm told was constructed from the lead colony ship that arrived over two hundred years ago, and they so named the base after her."

"Sir, may I ask why the need for code phrases?" asked Farragut's Caitian operations officer, Commander M'lissa. "Seems rather an antiquated method for confirmation."

Leo sat up and replied. "It does, but in this case, a pre-arranged method for authentication is paramount for multiple reasons. Greenwood's Royal Navy uses sign/counter-sign as a method of identifying friend or foe; it's worked into their tactical systems. Because the Kzin are increasing their attempts to annex Sigma Serpentis by approaching the outer planets, it's likely if we show up on their long-range sensors, they'll be wary until they identify us. Last, they haven't seen a Federation starship in over fifty years. The Federation has promoted a sphere of influence for the Greenwood colony for their future use and exploitation."

Admiral Essa listened to Leo with a smile on her face, proud of her godson's assessment. "Thank you, Leo. As he said, the Federation Council treats Greenwood as a de facto protectorate, though Starfleet observes their sovereignty and allows their Royal Navy to be responsible for national defense. This is going to be an opportunity for us to get a closer look at their innovations, just as much as they will ours."

M'lissa wondered, speaking to the group at large, "So, this will be the first time they'll be seeing an Excelsior-class starship?" With a smirk, she cast a sidelong glance toward Leo and added, "Wow, are they in for a shock."

Proteus stood ready for combat. The order to beat to quarters issued some time ago, while the frigate sped to twenty-five knots in order to position itself for the intercept. Captain Meyn ascended to the poop deck, leaning over the railing to look down on the doings of the officers below. Several screens sat on a mount extended from just underneath the center of the railing, showing various statuses of the ship's systems.

The ship's surgeon, Doctor Wilhelmina "Billie" Farrell, relaxed in her customary seat aft and to the port of where the captain stood. She drew her teacup of Earl Grey to her lips and took a quick sip.

The captain's steward, Katarina "Kathy" Rau, approached her charge with a tray and offered its contents. "Captain?"

Captain Meyn turned and took the ornate teacup. "Thank you, Rau," she said with a grin. "Perfect timing, as always."

"Cook asks if you'd like breakfast this morning," Rau asked.

With her eyes upon the displays, she sighed. "We might go into battle soon, so no, thank you. You and Cook secure yourselves below, please." After the steward departed the deck, Meyn called down, "Mister Andry, that's far enough. Reduce speed to five knots and hold this course."

"Aye, aye, sir!" Andry replied, then turned to bark orders at the sailing master.

Now on her feet and standing only two feet behind the captain, Doctor Farrell asked, "Something amiss?"

Meyn kept her eyes on the display. She replied in muted tones, "We're approaching the limit of our territory." She touched the intercom control and called, "Signals, Captain."

"Signals. Ballard, here, sir."

"Now that we've reduced speed, laser-link to the relay and update the Commodore on our present position."

"Aye, aye, sir. Sending it now."

Meyn switched off the circuit and Proteus' position on the plotter showed its speed at sub-light velocity. Five knots put the frigate's speed north of half impulse power. Among the eighteen vessels in the incoming fleet, three of them had a mass over five times greater than the others and possessed an equivalent level of armaments.

Despite the various strategies in her mind, all of which resulted in near-instantaneous destruction, she still had no confirmation of their would-be aggressors’ identity. She drummed her fingers on the railing as she considered the possibilities.

Then, the decision came to her. "Mister Andry, adjust your heading ninety points to starboard and advise the port-side gun captains to run out!"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

At that moment, the intercom whistled for immediate attention. Meyn opened the circuit, and said, "Meyn, here."

Over the small speaker, the same midshipman's voice called for her, "Signals, Ballard, again, sir. I have the Commodore for you on laser-link. He wishes to speak with you immediately. His words, sir."

"On this circuit, if you please, Mister Ballard."

"Aye, aye, sir. Patching through, now."

The center screen blinked and showed the emblem of the Royal Navy's Outer Planets Squadron. The stern, lupine visage of the squadron commander, Commodore Sir Timber Lupindo KO RN, appeared. "Dame Stacy," he greeted her with an acknowledging nod.

"Sir Timber," she replied to the male Fenrisal flag officer.

"My sincere apologies for the lateness of this information, but we have word from Starbase Hestia that the Starfleet task force we discussed last week should arrive near your location presently," the commodore's voice took on an apologetic tone. "The First Naval Lord informs me that the Prime Minister deemed the timing of their arrival a national security secret."

Captain Meyn pressed her lips together into the thin line of irritation. She bit back a choice comment, instead offering a tight smile. "Understood, sir. How are we to identify ourselves to one another?"

"They will use encrypted signal number forty-four, with the code phrase of 'Castle Wall.' Your counter-sign is to be 'Tower Tall.'" Commodore Lupindo repeated the information once more. "Confirm receipt."

The captain nodded. "Information received, sir. We should contact that incoming fleet in less than five minutes, so I sincerely hope I receive the proper phrase, or else we'll go down fighting, sir."

Lupindo offered a small smile. With a nod, he admitted, "I know you will, Captain. Hope to hear news shortly." The screen blinked back to the squadron insignia before returning to show the previous ship's status.

"Signals, Captain," Meyn called out, not bothering to wait for a response, she kept speaking, "monitor signal forty-four for traffic and advise me at once."

As Ballard replied with her acknowledgement of the order, Meyn called down to Andry, "Gunners to hold for my order!"

Doctor Farrell asked from her seat, "Planning on attacking, regardless?" She hid her grin behind the teacup.

"It'll either be an attack or a nine-gun salute," Meyn replied, keeping her voice down. "The briefing materials noted that a rear admiral leads their task force."

As the minutes ticked off, Captain Meyn watched the sensors improve to form blurry silhouettes as they read the return washed through the subspace fields of each ship. "Those do not look like any Kzin ships I've seen before," she admitted. "The circular hull by itself, mayhaps… but those longer hull pieces are most certainly a significant departure from known Kzin designs."

"Federation, then?" asked the doctor, her voice tinged with hope.

As though in response to her question, the ships crossed over into Greenwood's sovereign space to exit from subspace in rapid succession. The gleaming white hulls of each ship stood out like beacons against the darkness of space, a stark contrast to the sleek, black hulls in use by the Royal Navy. Three of the eighteen ships at the fore of the fleet loomed large enough on the plotting screen to dwarf the seventy meter-long frigate.

From her position, Captain Meyn looked upwards through the transparent aluminum bulkhead and read the words, "STARSHIP U.S.S. FARRAGUT - UNITED FEDERATION OF PLANETS," along the side of the lower hull amidst a delta and two red lines running aft.

She took a step back from the view and in a breathy and shaky voice, she exclaimed, "Mine arse on a bandbox!"

Her First Officer, along with the rest of the crew on the quarterdeck, all expressed gasps and words of amazement at the sight of the show of military might. Lieutenant Andry shouted, "Merciful heavens!"

The signals screen emitted an attention-getting tri-tone. Meyn glanced at the screen, which showed an incoming message patched through from her specified channel. Two words with gold lettering displayed alone on a field of black:

CASTLE WALL