Chapter 6

        Captain Johnson looked up from his PADD and leaned back in his chair. The entrance to his ready room opened, letting in Chief Engineer Fonda and Science Officer Joh Emmeril.
        “Ah, you two are the most punctual crewmembers I have on my ship,” Johnson smiled. “Thank you for coming in to brief me on the current situation. Please, be seated.”
        Joh tucked her long brown dress in to her legs as she sat down, and moved her long braided ponytail to behind her shoulder. Fonda sat down next to her, tugging at her black overtunic as she crossed her legs. They looked at the captain behind his curved desk.
        Johnson set aside his PADD and interlaced his fingers together, resting his hands atop his desk. “Let’s start with you, Doctor Joh. What more can you tell me about this unusual nebula?”
        Joh had a PADD in her hand, but she didn’t consult with it as she began speaking to the captain. “First, I checked all available databases, and have found no record at all of this nebula. All the long range astrometric scans of No Man’s Land showed no indications of nebulae. I have taken the liberty of designating this nebula as nbNML-1.”
        “So noted,” Johnson nodded. “Please continue.”
        “This nebula exhibits several unusual properties. There is an increased gravitational field, far more than one would expect of a nebula this size and composition. Although we are not near the center, where the gravitational forces are strongest, we are feeling the effects. There are gravitational tides and eddies throughout this nebula.”
        “Yes, inertial dampeners are working more,” Johnson said.
        “The composition of this nebula is interfering with our sensors, which is to be expected. However, this level of interference indicates there are more forces at work.”
        “Could another ship be hiding in here, jamming our sensors?”
        “No, the interference is not artificial in origin. Which leads me to another unusual reading we have found.” Joh sighed and consulted with her PADD. “We found traces of chronometric radiation that should not be here. To be sure, it might be an inaccurate reading, which should be expected with our current sensor strength and resolution.”
        “So, what are you saying?”
        “I hesitate to say without more sufficient information,” Joh said.
        “Understood. Still, I’d like to know something I didn’t know before,” Johnson shrugged.
        “Very well, captain. The leading hypothesis is that this nebula exists on different spatial planes. The nebula shares several traits in common to other interspatial anomalies, such as the Goldin Discontinuity. However, the nebula also exhibits other characteristics unlike anything recorded before. The intense gravimetric forces located in this nebula may be a result or a cause. We have insufficient data to elaborate further.”
        Johnson stroked his bare chin. “So, we might be dealing with interdimesional forces?”
        “Our current data would not exclude that,” Joh answered. “We cannot probe further with our current sensor strength.”
        “This would be a good time to go to Chief Fonda,” Johnson said, shifting his gaze to the other woman seated before him. “How about it? Any progress on cleaning up sensors?”
        Fonda rubbed her neck and shrugged. “We’re making progress little by little. The largest problem is that we’re unable to shield the sensors from the barrage of radiation being generated within this nebula. I’ve already been in conference with Doctor Joh, and if what she’s saying does turn out to be the case, then we just won’t be able to shield the ship fully. The radiation will be just weaving in and out of our plane of existence. They’ll just bypass our shields completely.”
        “Are we in any danger?”
        Fonda shook her head, looking at Johnson. “No, I’ve already checked with Doctor Hartman. He hasn’t seen any cause for alarm. I just wouldn’t recommend staying within this nebula longer than 48 hours. Certain ship components won’t be able to withstand much more of this. Which may explain the state we found the Galaxy in.”
        “Acknowledged. I don’t like it very much here. I keep getting goosebumps for no reason at all,” Johnson admitted. “So, we’re not going to be able to improve sensors or communications?”
        Fonda bristled. “I didn’t say that, sir. I’m not going to give up.”
        “I didn’t think so,” Johnson smiled.
        “May I point out that this nebula is quite unstable, by normal standards?” Joh remarked.
        “How so?” Johnson frowned, looking back at the Bajoran scientist.
        “We have been noticing gravitational fluctuations. The mass of this nebula varies from moment to moment. If I were to guess, I would be saying that parts of this nebula is phasing in and out of our plane of perception. And of course, the assorted stellar dust, including a large amount of hydrogen and other volatile elements, present in this nebula makes our location a precarious one.”
        “I already am aware of that. It’s standard procedure to assess the conditions of a nebula. Don’t worry, I won’t fire phasers or torpedoes, or do anything that may otherwise threaten ourselves. I have no wish to strike a match here.”
        “Good,” Joh replied. “I believe I have said all I have to offer. Here is a PADD with the latest compilation of sensor reports and our various hypotheses, and work.” She handed the brown PADD to Johnson.
        Fonda stood up. “Well, if there’s nothing else, there’s work waiting for me in Engineering.”
        “Uh, just a minute, Fonda,” Johnson pointed at her. He looked at Joh. “Thank you, Doctor, for your good work. You may return to work.”
        Joh nodded, and walked out of the ready room. Fonda sat back down, frowning slightly at Johnson.
        Once the door closed behind Joh, the captain looked at the engineer. “Janelle, you look like crap.”
        “Well, thank you, Thomas. You sure know how to flatter a girl,” Fonda retorted.
        Johnson sighed and shook his head. “Have you gotten any sleep recently?”
        “No, I’ve been too busy.”
        “Well, you really look terrible. Why don’t you take a short break and head to your quarters for some sleep?”
        “I’d rather not. Hiroshi is on the Galaxy so that leaves me to take care of Engineering.”
        “You have plenty of capable people there who can handle Engineering without you around,” Johnson leaned forward. “Now don’t make me order you to take a nap.”
        “I really look that bad?”
        Johnson nodded.
        Fonda sighed and raised an eyebrow. “Well, I suppose I could... ok.” She stood up. “Thanks for being concerned.”
        “Always,” Johnson smiled softly.
        As she neared the door, Fonda turned back. “You know, I really hate taking naps in the middle of an situation. It seems that everytime I wake up from a nap, something has happened.”
        Johnson glanced out the window near the end of the room, looking at the faint outline of the Galaxy. “Nothing much’s happening now.”

        “Fall back!” Ironsides shouted, squeezing off several bursts of phaser shots across the bridge, at the swarm of black-suited attackers. He swept his arm back, pushing Lieutenant Hiroshi, back, shielding him.
        Private Lugosy kneeled behind the curved tactical station, resting his phaser rifle on the brown wood, firing. “Sir, Setting 10 is not working!”
        “Damn it!” Ironsides said. “Setting 12!”
        Lugosy paused to dial up his phaser rifle’s setting. The next compressed beam he fired struck one of the obsidian suited aliens squarely in the chest. He staggered backwards, but recovered to fire his own narrow triangular weapon. The energy bolt struck Lugosy’s faceplate, bursting through and turning his blue Andorian face into an unrecognizable mess.
        “Private Lugosy’s down!” LeAnn shrieked, looking at Lugosy’s collapsed body near her boots.
        Ironsides turned to look at Lugosy’s body, and then at LeAnn. “Ensign, get out of here! Everyone, get out! Longton, cover their retreat! I’ll stay in position and lay down some cover fire!”
        The remaining Marine stepped up in front of the engineers, firing his rifle in a wide arc, forcing the attackers to spread out and hide behind the conn and ops consoles.
        Ironsides looked down at Hiroshi. “Get your team out of here! Go through the conference room and then wait for us!”
        “Yes, sir!” Hiroshi fired his phaser, backing alongside the aft computer stations. He pushed Andorra towards the door to the conference room. She crouched, hugging her engineer’s case near her chest.
        She stopped, blocking Hiroshi’s progress. He turned to her. “What’s wrong? Keep going!”
        “But.. but...”
        Hiroshi turned to look at Andorra. “What?!” He looked down to see the torn suit of Leeysan, the first victim of the surprise attack. “Oh. Just crawl over her.”
        Andorra’s Guassan face wrinkled in a horrified face. Her dark purple eyes told Hiroshi that she’d rather not.
        “Oh, allright!” Hiroshi handed Andorra his phaser. “Trade places with me. Just shoot at them, cover me.”
        Andorra nodded and shifted, kneeling on her knees, firing the phaser through the opening beneath the tactical station. Hiroshi grabbed Leeysan’s legs and tugged at them. LeAnn crouched next to him, helping. Together, they managed to shove it away out of their path of retreat. As an added bonus, it provided slight cover from the enemy fire.
        “Okay, Andorra. Let’s go!” Hiroshi patted Andorra’s arm. Within the next few seconds, the EVA suited Starfleet crew found themselves in the dimly lit Conference Room. Longton burst through the open door, firing behind him as he ran.
        “Where’s Ironsides?” Hiroshi asked.
        “The major’s pinned by the turbolift door,” Longton told them. “He says to go on without him.”
        “I don’t think we should,” Andorra said.
        “I don’t care what you think we should do,” Longton shouted. “His orders are to go to the Fuji and get the hell off this ship!”
        “That’s that, then,” Hiroshi said. “Andorra, open the door, and we’ll make our way to the corridors and a Jeffries Tube access. I’ll stay here with Longton and cover us.”
        Andorra nodded and went to the other side of the room. She opened the other door via the manual release hidden in the wall. The door slid open slowly and she stepped out, only to be grabbed by another black suited intruder. She screamed, attracting the attention of the others.
        LeAnn, being the closest, raised to shoot her phaser, but decided against it due to Andorra’s flailing arms and legs. She squinted. “There’s more of them! We’re trapped!” Andorra was dragged away, and more black suited intruders ran towards the open doorway.
        Longton sidled up to the doorway to the bridge. “There’s less of them. They must’ve circled around.”
        Hiroshi looked at Longton with shock. “They know the layout of the ship!”
        Longton breathed heavily. “I think we can get back to Ironsides and get out another way.”
        “Okay,” Hiroshi nodded. He looked at LeAnn. “Quick, close the door!”
        LeAnn ran up to the door, pulling down the switch, closing off the Conference Room.
        “Good, come on!” Hiroshi gestured to her. She ran across the long room back to Hiroshi and Longton.
        Longton looked out at Ironsides, still firing his rifle, hiding in the alcove near the turbolift.
        He ran out, firing at the attackers that were focusing on Ironsides. One fell to the deck, a smoking crater near his suit’s shoulder.
        Hiroshi and LeAnn ran out into the bridge, following Longton’s lead. They fired, forcing the intruders to withdraw through the hatch they came up in.
        “What are you doing back here?” Ironsides shouted.
        “Sir, they cut off our retreat,” Longton reported. “They circled around and blocked off the Conference Room. One of the engineers was captured.”
        “Ensign Andorra,” Hiroshi supplied.
        “Damn, they’ve done their recon,” Ironsides sighed. He fired a blast at the hatch, noticing a dark helmet rise. It dipped down again. “We can’t stay here. We’ve got to get out of here.”
        LeAnn shouted, and fired her phaser at a intruder in the doorway they just came through. “They’re coming in the other way!”
        Ironsides squinted and stood up. “Watch the hatch and the door, cover me.”
        Longton nodded, and trained his rifle on the hatch. Hiroshi and LeAnn raised their phasers at the doorway.
        Ironsides turned to the closed turbolift. He made a quick adjustment to his rifle and aimed at the doors. “Brace yourselves,” he said.
        He fired his rifle, and the doors exploded inwards, rocking the immediate area. The crumpled doors fell down the turbolift shaft. He stepped to the edge, and looked down. “I see a car several levels down. It’s jumpable.”
        “Jump?” LeAnn said.
        “Quicker than climbing down the ladder. There’s not that much gravity generated in a turbolift shaft anyway,” Ironsides said. “Go!”
        Longton nodded, and leapt down the shaft with a long shout, which abruptly cut off.
        “Is he dead?” LeAnn asked.
        Ironsides leaned over to look. “No, he’s fine. Just out of comm range. You next.”
        LeAnn sighed and gritted her teeth. She took one last glance back and stepped off the edge.
        “Good, Lieutenant, now you,” Ironsides ordered.
        The intruders were already filing through the Conference Room door, firing at them. Hiroshi paused to fire several more rapid shots, before jumping down the shaft. He felt the familiar looseness of zero gravity as he flailed his arms and legs, shooting down the shaft. He felt hands on his legs, and looked down to see the others keeping him from landing on them. They were able to shove him aside. He landed with a mild shock, on top of the unmoving turbolift car.
        “You okay?” Longton asked.
        “Yeah.”
        “Then move, the major’s on his way down!”
        Hiroshi flattened himself against the circular walls of the shaft. He watched Ironsides glide down to them. He landed effortlessly, and quickly looked up, aiming his rifle. They could see the intruders peek into the shaft. They started firing their weapons.
        Ironsides turned and fired his rifle again at the doors that led to the deck above them. The doors exploded outwards, shaking the shaft. Longton ran and jumped up, grabbing the edge, and pulling himself over. The gravity on the deck pulled him through easily, counteracting the lower gravity in the shaft.
        Hiroshi and LeAnn didn’t need to be told what to do. LeAnn ran and jumped up. Longton kneeled to grab and pull her up.
        “Incoming!” Ironsides shouted, alerting Hiroshi as he prepared to jump up to the ledge. He looked up and saw one of the intruders falling towards them. The intruder fell on his back, lying by Ironsides’s and Hiroshi’s feet.
        Hiroshi stepped close to have a closer look. He couldn’t make out any facial features through the dark faceplate. He could tell that the suit obviously was an EVA suit, just as they were wearing. It was slightly more armored than the one Hiroshi was wearing, and had an odd geometry to it. It wasn’t smooth and curved. Instead, it almost looked like hewn stone. His boot hit the arm of the intruder.
        The intruder grabbed Hiroshi’s leg, digging in with sharp gloved fingers. “Major! It’s not dead! It’s got me!” He felt the fingers dig into the flesh of his calf.
        Ironsides swung down his rifle and fired pointblank in the intruder’s helmet. It erupted in a blossom of orange toned blood. The glove stopped digging into Hiroshi’s calf. He bent down to pull out the fingers and thumbs, noticing that there were only three fingers. The suit hissed, and Hiroshi quickly pulled out an emergency patch from a interior pocket on his suit’s thigh. He taped it over the small openings, stopping the leak. He still felt blood creeping down to his ankle from the tears.
        “Go!” Ironsides shouted.
        Hiroshi nodded and took a steadying breath. He glanced at the exposed face of the alien. He couldn’t tell what they looked like, at least not superficially. He could tell that it bled orange, though. He looked up at Longton and LeAnn, who were firing up at the intruders, covering their retreat.
        Hiroshi ran and leapt over the dead intruder, grabbing the ledge. LeAnn grabbed his arms, dragging him over the edge. He scrambled to his feet, and returned to the doorway, pulling his phaser off his thigh holster. He joined Longton in firing at the intruders, keeping them away from the doorway, so Ironsides could make his escape.
        Ironsides stopped firing long enough to run and jump up onto the ledge. He barely needed any help pulling himself over the edge, but Longton and Hiroshi pulled him over in any case.
        “Okay, what deck are we on?” Ironsides asked as he got on his feet.
        “Deck Four,” Longton reported.
        “Allright. We need to get back to the Fuji and contact the Courageous,” Ironsides said. “Go!”

        Safely ensconced within the runabout Fuji, Ironsides and the others contacted the Courageous.
        “We need reinforcements!” Ironsides told Johnson through the runabout’s comm system.
        “Done,” Johnson replied. “I’m ordering two squads to fly over to the Galaxy. The first squad should be there under ten minutes.”
        “We also have an injured crewman who needs attention- Lieutenant Hiroshi.”
        “Allright, have Ensign LeAnn take the Fuji and bring it back home. I want you two to make your way to the Rainier and secure it, I don’t want to lose it.”
        “Acknowledged, sir,” Ironsides replied. “Marine One out.”
        He sighed and turned to the pathway that led to the docking collar. “Longton! Come back in. Get some fresh power packs, we’re moving out to take the Rainier.”
        Longton came back inside the runabout from his sentry post. “Yes, sir.”
        Ironsides looked back at LeAnn. “You heard the captain. Get out of here. See if you can see any signs of another ship docked to the Galaxy. They had to come from somewhere.”
        “Aye, sir,” LeAnn nodded.
        Ironsides walked over to Hiroshi, who was already out of his suit, pressing a dressing on his leg wound. “How’re you doing?”
        “I’m fine, sir,” Hiroshi replied.
        “Good. You’ll be patched up soon. Be sure to report everything you saw to the others.”
        “I will.”
        “Sir, I’m ready,” Longton called out. He was still in his combat suit. Ironsides nodded, and picked up his helmet, snapping it into place. He joined Longton and they stepped off the runabout. The docking hatch closed, and the Fuji pulled away from the ship.
        Longton looked at Ironsides. “What about the others in Main Engineering, sir?”
        “Unknown. We have to assume the worst. First priority is the Rainier. Then once the relief squads get here, we’ll look in Engineering.”
        “Yes, sir.”

        “Options?” Johnson asked.
        “Well, they have full control of the Main Bridge,” Bogarde said. “And we have to assume the same of Main Engineering.”
        “Yes,” Johnson nodded, tapping his foot on the deck as he looked up at Bogarde. The security chief stood at the Tactical station, thinking.
        “No one’s been to the battle bridge,” Bogarde said to Johnson. “We might be able to get in there, lock them out using emergency protocols that they won’t know about.”
        “Right,” Johnson stroked his chin. “We could be able to fly the Galaxy out of the nebula, and we’ll be able to deal with this threat better.”
        “That’s an idea, sir.”
        “Did we finish downloading the ship’s logs?”
        Bogarde checked his console. “No, sir. I estimate about 63% of the download was complete before it cut off, probably due to the attack.”
        “That’ll have to do. I’ll have Kyle come up here and look at them Maybe these intruders are already on record.”
        “Yes, sir.” Bogarde looked down at his console. “Sir, the runabout Vesuvius has docked to the Galaxy.”
        “Good, have them split up. I want one team to rendezvous with Major Ironsides at the Rainier. I want the other six to head to Main Engineering and find out the status of our men there. Is the Fuji back yet?”
        “No, sir.”
        “Tell Lieutenant Dawson to load up the second squad onto the Fuji as soon as Ensign LeAnn returns. I want the ensign to stay for debriefing, though.”
        Bogarde nodded and tapped his combadge. “Bogarde to Lieutenant Dawson.”
        Johnson turned his chair to the front of the bridge, to the static filled viewscreen. He thumbed his armrest. “Bridge to Lieutenant Kyle.”
        No reply was immediately forthcoming. Johnson repeated his hail. Finally a voice answered. “Kyle here.”
        “Kyle, report to the bridge. I need you at my side,” Johnson told her.
        “What? Why?”
        “Ironsides is on the Galaxy indefinitely. There are intruders aboard the Galaxy. I need you here as my executive to fill in for Ironsides.”
        “I’m on my way, Captain.” Kyle replied. The line clicked closed.
        Johnson turned back to Bogarde. “Can you put a tractor beam on the Galaxy?”
        “I already tried to, but targeting sensors are inoperative,” Bogarde reported back.
        “Damn it,” Johnson muttered, running his fingers through his short brown hair. “As soon as we find out what’s happening in Engineering, I want to take the Battle Bridge.”

Chapter 7

        Lieutenant Dawson stood on the flat deck of the shuttlebay. He was shouting. “Everyone move! Get on the runabout now!”
        Twelve men, in full combat EVA suits, rushed to the just landed runabout Fuji. The door hatch swung open, allowing them to enter. The lead Marine ran up to the front, tapping LeAnn on the shoulder.
        “What?”
        “You’re relieved. You need to stay for debriefing,” the Marine told her. “I’ll pilot.”
        LeAnn sighed. “Okay,” she said. “You need to run a check on the starboard Bussard collector. I think it’s malfunctioning.”
        “Will do. You’re dismissed.”
        LeAnn looked up, looking at the Marine’s chestplate. She hadn’t learned all the ranking insignia for the Marine branch, but the way he spoke told her he certainly outranked her.
        She picked up her EVA suit helmet and gloves, making her way past the incoming Marines.
        She stepped off the runabout, and headed to the suit-up room to take off her suit. She turned after she heard the hatch door slam shut on the Fuji. She stood in front of the open doorway to the suit-up room, pausing to watch the runabout lift off a meter off the shiny deck. She turned to enter the locker room, since it would seal in the air while the shuttlebay depressurized.
        She started undoing her suit’s latches. A tremendous explosion shook the locker room, causing her to slam against her suit’s locker. She staggered to her feet, then stumbled to the door of the suit-up room. She saw that the door was slightly buckled inwards, but it still opened when she pressed the keypad.
         She walked out, and saw the Fuji back on the deck of the shuttlebay. Her eyes immediately went to the port nacelle that was slung underneath the runabout. Black marks covered the entire front portion and the side.
        Shuttlebay personnel were rushing out with emergency gear now. The hatch of the runabout opened, and the Marines started hopping out.
        “What happened?” she shouted over the bustle.
        “Damn nacelle burned out,” one of the Marines said. “Pilot thinks some of the nebula gas leaked in.”
        LeAnn shook her head. The pilot must not have checked the Bussard collector as she suggested. It seemed no one was hurt, which was lucky. She returned to the suit-up room and finished taking off her EVA suit. Her combadge chimed in the locker room.
        “LeAnn here.”
        “It’s Amanda. Are you allright?”
        LeAnn smiled. “Yes, I’m okay.”
        “I heard about what happened in the shuttlebay. I was afraid you might have been hurt.”
        “I’m okay.”
        “Listen, I’m in the Mess Hall. Would you like to get something to eat?”
        “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go to Bridge. I have to debrief the captain, first.”
        “Okay.”
        “After, allright?”
        “Great,” Ruiz replied.
        “Love you. LeAnn out.”
        LeAnn stowed her suit away, and walked out of the locker room. She saw the Marines entering another shuttle, a cargo shuttle by the looks of it. It made sense. Only a cargo shuttle would be large enough to accommodate 12 Marines in full gear.
        Shuttlebay personnel were attaching a docking collar to the shuttle. She noted the name of the cargo shuttle before she walked out of the shuttlebay. The shuttle was named after one of Earth’s most well known cities, the San Francisco. The docking collar covered part of the shuttle’s identifier number, which was also the Courageous’s registry number, 81822.
        LeAnn zipped up her black tunic and headed to the Bridge.
        
        Andorra sat on one of the chairs in the Galaxy’s ready room, looking at the trio of obsidian suited intruders. It seemed as if they were talking amongst themselves, but she could not hear it. Obviously it was because their suit’s comm systems operated differently than her own EVA suit. Her stomach growled. She realized she hadn’t eaten yet since she woke up.
        Suddenly, she heard a strange voice speak to her. It was both gravelly and sibilant at the same time. It spoke to her in the standard language of the Federation, which surprised her more.
        “What is your clan name and job designation, inferior?”
        Andorra bristled slightly at being labeled an inferior, but she was already overwhelmed by the recent series of events, so she didn’t speak out as she would’ve. Instead, she only replied, “Ensign Fiorchel Andorra, I’m a, uh, engineer.” Silently she cursed herself for not replying in the standard name, rank and serial number as she had been trained to.
        It didn’t seem to her that these intruders would’ve been pleased to hear just that, though. They turned to each other. After having had few moments of watching the intruders interact with each other, Andorra recognized a clear chain of command, though there were no markings she could detect on any of their suits.
        She noticed that the shorter one on the left of the central figure was more obsequious, and the one on the right, who was the tallest one she had seen so far, was almost challenging. She smiled, thinking of their heights. Most of them were her height, and she was one of the shorter crewmembers on the Courageous, just over one and a half meters tall.
        The center figure turned to her. She heard a voice again, probably that of the leader’s voice. “Engineer? You understand the workings of this ship?”
        “Yes,” she replied.
        “Can you reactivate the superspace conduit device?”
        Andorra frowned and blinked. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
        The tall one stepped forward, reaching out with sharp edged gloves. Andorra winced, and tried to back away in her seat. The leader’s arm shot out, pointing ominously at the taller one.

        “Roq’Ragn! Do not harm her!” Aung’Rama shouted in her native dialect.
        The other Vendoth paused in his reach. “Qe’Doth Aung’Rama, she lies. She purposefully stalls us. Such an inferior is of no use to us.”
        “It is good that you remember she is an inferior,” Aung’Rama hissed. “As such, she may not fully understand our phraseology. Their language is quite simple, as our briefings have informed us. Any Vendoth can learn their language with minimal effort. So it is to be expected we will have some communication barriers when we express our desires to her mind.”
        “Yes, Qe’Doth,” Roq’Ragn dropped his hand. The captive relaxed slightly in her seat.
        “Do not be so quick to dismiss her usefulness. Only I have the authority to decide that, not you. Do not make me remind you of your place in the hierarchy.”
        “Yes, Qe’Doth.”
        Aung’Rama turned back to look at the alien. Idly, she wondered if her violet skin coloring was common of the races in the Federation. Their briefing on the Federation was not as comprehensive as she’d liked, but it was sufficient to determine that they were inferiors, compared to the Vendoth.
        She paused and mulled over how best to speak to the inferior. It was maddeningly frustrating, worse than speaking to a child Vendoth noviciate fresh away from his brood.
        She activated her communications link to the inferior’s comm system. “You may not have understood what I was referring to. This ship has an unusual propulsion system, does it not?”
        “Oh yes. Yes, it does.”
        “We call it the superspace conduit device,” Aung’Rama stated.
        “I see. We call it a Transwarp Drive.”
        Aung’Rama smiled at the awkward name. “I see. I shall refer to it from now on as the Transwarp Drive, to prevent further confusion.” She glanced at Roq’Ragn, her narrow eyes slitting at him. She knew he heard this exchange, and once again, her reasoning proved superior to his reasoning.
        “Okay,” the alien nodded, which seemed an odd gesture to Aung’Rama.
        “Can you reactivate it?” she asked.
        The alien paused, thinking. At length, she replied. “I don’t think I can.”
        Roq’Ragn surged forward, but wisely, he held back, Aung’Rama noted.
        The alien jerked back in fear.
        Aung’Rama sighed a long sigh. She looked at the inferior. “Do you mean you cannot, or that you will not?”
        “I mean, I can’t. I don’t know enough about it. I’d need time to study it. I’m only an ensign,” the alien replied.
        “Are there others who would know?”
        The alien paused before speaking. That alone told Aung’Rama volumes. She was thinking whether she should answer or not.
        “We only wish to learn more,” Aung’Rama told her. “Quite like your Federation, we embrace knowledge.” She winced at making such a gross comparison. Even Tr’Dunarg, her subordinate, looked at her openly, questioning her statement. Roq’Ragn’s opinion was expressed in a clear grunt through the comm system.
        “Maybe,” the alien said.
        Aung’Rama blinked several times, regarding the seated captive. Another one of her crew entered the room quickly.
        “Project Leader Qe’Doth Aung’Rama,” the newcomer began, “We have reports of more intruders boarding the ship. Analysis indicates these are of the combat caste.”
        Roq’Ragn clenched his hands. “Where are they going?”
        “One subgroup is transversing the ship, and another seem to be headed for the Engine Room, VenQu’ Roq’Ragn.”
        “They are mounting an invasion,” the security chief concluded.
        “We think another small craft might be attaching to this craft, as well. Sensor data is not clear,” the subordinate added.
        Aung’Rama hissed, and looked at Roq’Ragn. “Collect the necessary personnel. Repel the invasion to the Engine Room. We must retain control of this ship. And find the new craft.”
        “Yes, Project Leader Aung’Rama,” Roq’Ragn said. “What of the inferior captive?”
        Aung’Rama looked back at the alien. “Now she is not useful. Dispose of her.”
        “All inferiors are not useful, in the light of Vendoth superiority,” Roq’Ragn declared, stating a point from Vendoth dogma.
        Aung’Rama decided not to waste her time arguing the point with Roq’Ragn. It was true in most cases, she had to concede. Instead she gestured for Roq’Ragn to carry out her order. She watched as Roq’Ragn seized the alien by the weak neck collar of her suit. He snapped the helmet off, and she immediately began suffocating in the vacuum. She memorized the stages the alien went through. Briefly, she wondered if she should call in her Qa’Doth to make a medical record.
        She clicked her jaw shut. “Roq’Ragn, end it quickly. We have no time for this,” she said.
        Roq’Ragn grabbed the flailing alien by her head, and twisted it effortlessly around. The captive’s wild motions ended. He turned to face her. “Do you wish me to capture more of these inferiors for interrogation?”
        Aung’Rama recognized the veiled insinuation. “This was but one of the many inferiors aboard the other ship. Statistically, the odds were low that we would find an inferior with the pertinent information we need. That does not excuse us from attempting to find one. Since these new intruders are combat ready- do not take captives. Only take the ones similarly attired as this one was.”
        Aung’Rama gestured to the white and red suit that the captive was in.
        “Yes, Project Leader.”
        “Inform the others of our analysis of their environmental suits. Exploit their weaknesses.”

        “Sir, Corporal Yonig reporting as ordered,” the grey suited Marine stood at attention. Five other similarly suited Marines stood behind him.
        Ironsides stepped out of the docking collar that linked the Rainier to the Galaxy. “You the new squad from the Vesuvius, right?”
        “Yes, sir.”
        “Where are the others?”
        Yonig replied, “Captain Johnson ordered a detachment of six men to Main Engineering, to recon.”
        Ironsides closed his eyes and shook his head. He bit his tongue. He opened his eyes again and looked at Yonig, who he recognized as a tan-skinned Arsatic. “Allright. We’ll lockout the runabout, and leave it here as an staging point.”
        He looked at the other men. “Listen up, grunts. Set your rifles on Setting 14. Anything below that won’t scratch ’em. Anything more, you risk damaging the ship irreparably. Their suits are better armored than ours. If you’ve got a shot, aim for the head. That seems to be a good weak spot.” Ironsides looked down at the orange stains on his boots.
        The Marines dutifully readjusted their weapons.
        “What about taking one captive?” Yonig asked.
        Ironsides looked at the corporal. “Why?”
        “To find out who they are. This may be a new species.”
        Ironsides grunted. “I’m more inclined to shoot first, then ask questions later. They’ve already killed one that I know of, and taken another. I don’t think these bastards come in peace. Move out.”
        The newcomers set off down the corridors.
        “And for god’s sake, don’t wander off more than a few meters. If you do, you’ll be out of comm contact, and then I’ll have to hunt you down and kill you before they do,” Ironsides shouted.
        Nobody laughed.

Chapter 8

        “See those marks? There’s been some fighting here,” one of the grey suited Marines said, using his rifle’s mounted flashlight to point them out.
        The senior officer, Lieutenant Campion, took one look. “Well, better get your weapons hot. Whoever fought here, might still be here.”
        “Yes, sir,” the others said. The small group continued down the corridor. Their lights came across the large beige double doors that led into Main Engineering.
        Campion walked up to the doors. When they didn’t open for him, he turned to the others. “Private Ballatin, use the manual,” he told one.
        Ballatin went to the side of the doors, to the already open panel. She twisted at the handle. “Sir, it’s not working.”
        Campion shone his light on the doors. “Looks welded shut from inside. We don’t have the time to go in through Jeffries Tubes. Everyone, back off. I’m going to cut it open.”
        The lieutenant thumbed his rifle’s setting up higher, and adjusted the controls. He stepped back and aimed carefully at the door seams. A thin red beam struck out at the doors, producing sparks. Campion slowly brought the laser-like beam down from the top to bottom of the doors. The cut metal glowed faintly in the darkness. After several minutes, the lieutenant was done.
        He stepped back to survey his work. The orange glow faded as the heat dissipated across the metal doors. “Ballatin, try it again.”
        The private stepped back to the manual door switch. She twisted, and with a grunt, the doors cracked open. Ballatin set her rifle down, and grabbed the handle with both hands. The extra leverage brought the doors open several more centimeters.
        Campion turned to the others. “Help me,” he told them as he grabbed a door edge. He pulled one door away as a few others grabbed at the doors. Their team effort widened the space between the doors, enough so that the Marines, within their bulky combat suits, could fit through. The others that didn’t help, stood back, with their rifles ready. Their lights shone into the dark Main Engineering.
        Campion picked up his rifle, and gripped it tightly. He motioned for several others to line up behind him. He stepped through the half-open doorway, peering into the darkness. His light played across the room, illuminating computer consoles and wall stations.
        He stepped forward, allowing another Marine to get through the doorway. He turned around to face the other Marines waiting to enter. “Allright,” he began, “There’s supposed to be six people in here. Let’s find them.”
        A blur of motion rushed out of the darkness to smash into Campion. The others couldn’t ascertain what was happening. It seemed as if a shadow came to life. The shadow pushed Campion up against a nearby wall with such force that Campion saw cracks spider outwards on his own faceplate.
        He tried to raise his weapon, but it was knocked down and out of his grip. He tried to grab at the shadow, but he was driven into the wall violently again. His own face smashed against the cracked faceplate, and Campion felt blood flowing freely. The shadow kicked his legs out from underneath him, and he fell down backwards, and his faceplate exploded when the pressure inside the suit became too much for the faceplate to hold in.
        All of this happened within a space of heartbeats. The other Marine that was already within Main Engineering tried to find what was attacking his lieutenant. His light cast shadows on the wall behind Campion, and he couldn’t differentiate between the figure and the shadows on the wall. Suddenly, blackness filled his faceplate. He thought he could make out the outline of a hand, and felt himself being pressed backwards. His arm was grabbed and twisted around his back.
        The Marine felt an icy coldness in his shoulder, and realized that his suit was breached. Air was rushing out of his suit. With his last few breaths, he shouted to the others, “Get back! Shoot!”
        The other Marines backed away from the doorway. The ones in front began firing pulses of phaser energy through the doorway. Several hit the other lead Marine inside, but it didn’t matter. He was already in his death throes from a lack of oxygen.
        “Hey, someone take a reading!” Ballatin shouted.
        Private Robrah raised his black tricorder, initiating a quick perimeter scan. “I’m reading two bogeys in front, and three behind! Moving fast!” He spun around, using his rifle to shine light in the corridor behind them. The light reflected off the smooth black suits of the intruders. Bright light erupted from them, and Robrah flew backwards, hit by an energy bolt. He lost his grip on his tricorder. It sailed through the air and clattered down to the deck, lost in the carpeting of red and purple gases.
        “Shit!” Ballatin shouted. She fired her rifle in the direction of the new intruders. The Marines huddled together, firing in two directions. She heard the scream of another Marine, cut down by the intruder’s weapons fire.
        A shadow reached out from through the Main Engineering doors and grabbed the legs of a nearby Marine. With a powerful jerk, the intruder pulled the Marine down on the ground.
        Ballatin heard the scream as the Marine was dragged inside Engineering. He was pulled so quickly that he barely had time to grab the doors. The intruder’s strength was so great that the Marine couldn’t hold on for longer than a second. Abruptly, the captured Marine’s screams ended.
        Ballatin gritted her teeth and ramped up her phaser fire strength. The intruders clung to the walls, firing methodically. She watched as one energy bolt struck the Marine in front of her. The bolt ripped through the knee joint in the Marine’s combat suit.
        She heard his gasp of surprise as his leg buckled underneath him. The Marine tumbled to the floor, and another energy bolt struck the fallen Marine right in the shoulder collar, where the arm attached to the main body of the combat suit. It snapped open, and Ballatin saw the hiss of air escaping into the vacuum, moisture crystallizing on the suit.
        “Damn it!” she shouted. “They’re hitting us in all the right places! We gotta take cover!” She fired her rifle in a wide arc as she crouched to grab the arm of the Marine that fell in front of her. She didn’t bother to look back and see if anyone followed her as she started dragging the injured Marine down a side corridor.
        She stopped dragging the Marine, whose name she read off his chestplate, H. Dixon. None of the intruders seemed concerned with her at the moment, when she looked back to the hallway junction in front of Main Engineering. Most of the others were already down, either struck down or kneeling for cover.
        The reddish orange light of their phaser rifles periodically illuminated the dark corridors. The faint yellow light of the intruders’ weapons flashed less often, but when they struck, it was usually with devastating effect.
        Ballatin looked down at H. Dixon. She remembered H. stood for Henrich. “Come on, Henrich, hang on,” she told him, trying to figure out how to stop the leak in his suit’s shoulder joint.
        “It’s so cold,” he mumbled back to her.
        “I know, you’ve got a suit breach. I can’t patch it up, the blast ripped open the collar. Look, we’re gonna have to seal it up, or you’re gonna die in a few seconds.”
        “How?”
        Ballatin frowned. “I’m gonna have to cut your arm off so you can seal up the arm socket.”
        “What? No!” Dixon shouted. Ballatin already was aiming her rifle at Dixon’s arm. A thin beam lanced out, slicing through Dixon’s arm. She braced herself for a piercing scream, but none came.
        Instead, she only heard a chuckle. “I don’t really feel anything,” he told her. “My arm’s so frozen numb, I didn’t feel it.”
        His arm dropped to the deck. Ballatin looked at Dixon. “It’s off.” She reached to his front chestplate, and popped open an emergency panel just beneath his nameplate. Shaped grooves within the access panel allowed the fingers of her combat suit’s glove to activate a switch. The arm socket of Dixon’s left arm irised shut. Ballatin sighed, thankful that the emergency seal was still operative.
        She picked up Dixon’s right arm and checked his wrist panel. “Your Ox is low, I’m gonna set Ox production on high. That should keep you going until we get you Med attention.”
        “Fine,” Dixon sighed.
        The flashes of Marine phaser fire was lessening, making Ballatin look back up and saw that all the others were out of action. “We gotta go,” she told Dixon, grabbing his remaining arm.
        She dragged him backwards with one hand, using her other hand to hold her rifle level.
        She saw several of the black intruders emerge around the corner. She fired at them, forcing them back down the hallway for cover. She caught a slight motion, and saw an energy bolt fly out at her. She hugged the wall as the bolt flew past her, exploding at the end of the hallway. She squeezed off another burst of phaser fire down the hallway at the corner.
        A figure leaned out through the open doorway to Engineering, firing. The yellow energy bolt struck the wall in front of Ballatin. The dark black panel that lined the wall exploded, striking her with shrapnel. The bright light of the energy bolt momentarily blinded her as well. She staggered back, unable to focus. The shards of the black wall display bounced off her suit.
        She blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to clear her vision, firing randomly in hopes of holding them back.
        Finally, she regained her sight, and saw four of the intruders waiting at the corridor, crouching out of range of her wild phaser fire. She let go of Dixon’s arm, using her now free hand to steady her phaser rifle.
        One of the intruders raised his weapon and fired.
        Dixon waved his arm backwards, grabbing at Ballatin’s legs. “No, don’t leave me here!”
        Dixon’s hand went between Ballatin’s legs, and she stumbled backwards, tripping over it.
        She fell onto her back, just as the energy bolt passed over her, narrowly missing her.
        She grunted, trying to sit up so she could aim and fire at them.
        Red-orange phaser fire struck one of the intruders in the arm, knocking him off balance. More phaser fire splattered onto the intruders’ suits.
        Ballatin frowned, watching the intruders turn to face unseen attackers. They fired their weapons down the hallway where they had come from. Several went through the doorway, as the one in the open went down after being struck with a barrage of phaser fire from multiple sources. The intruder collapsed over the body of a Marine.
        “Rnside to ... read.... do yu read...” a crackle of static and voices flooded Ballatin’s helmet.
        “Private First Class Ballatin here,” she shouted in response.
        The intruders were being driven back into Main Engineering. Ballatin got back on her feet, and sidled alongside the wall, keeping her rifle trained on the open doorway. She saw the doors slowly move together, narrowing the opening. Phaser fire splashed against the doors. Finally the doors were completely closed, sealing the intruders off.
        “This is Major Ironsides to Private Ballatin, do you read me?”
        Ballatin smiled. “Yes sir, I read you loud and clear.”
        “What’s your location?”
        “Less than three meters from the Main Engineering doors,” she replied.
        “Starboard or Port?”
        “Portside.”
        Multiple spots of light fixed on the doors of Main Engineering. The spots narrowed down as the other Marines came closer to the Junction. Suddenly, Ballatin found herself targeted by several Marines. The lights from their rifles shone into her eyes. She raised her arms and her weapon in a non-threatening stance.
        “Don’t shoot! It’s me, Private Thora Ballatin!”
        The others dropped their lights from her face, so she could see them now. She recognized them as the others from her squad. “I’ve got a man down here,” she gestured to Dixon’s body.
        One of the Marines broke from the group and approached Dixon. He knelt and looked at Dixon’s chest panel. “Lifesigns are faint, he needs med attention, fast.”
        She heard Ironsides’s voice again. “Check the others. They may still be alive. I want two on watch in case they decide to come out in a different direction.”
        The group split up, checking the bodies. Ballatin frowned as she heard announcement after announcement of the dead. Only one Marine was still alive, but she was slipping fast.
        Ballatin walked up to join the others. She knelt down to look at the intruder the others had shot down. She saw that it was in an environmental suit. A crater from concentrated phaser fire was dug into the intruder’s suit. She now understood why the Marines targeted him more than the others. He was the only one out in the open, an easy target.
        Ironsides stood by her side, slapping her on the shoulder. “You did good, soldier. I think Dixon will pull through just fine.”
        She looked at him. “What do they look like, sir?”
        “I don’t know,” Ironsides said. He knelt down next to the intruder. He ran his fingers over the enemy’s helmet. “I can’t find a way to open it up.”
        Ballatin picked up her rifle and brought down the butt with vicious force onto the faceplate. It cracked. She brought it down again, harder. The faceplate cracked more.
        “Hold, that’s enough,” Ironsides shouted, raising a hand to her. He used his fingers to pull back the shattered faceplate to reveal a dark green face and narrow but still open eyes.
        “Looks like an uglier cousin to the Gorn,” Ballatin remarked. The dead alien she saw had a flat face, with a heavy brow ridge running across its forehead. The eyes were a faint grey, with a vertically slitted pupil, which only served to enhance the alien’s reptilian features. The long mouth had two sharp fangs jutting out from its lower jaw.
        “Should I take a tricorder reading, sir?” another Marine asked.
        “Sure, if you want, Corporal,” Ironsides grunted, standing back up. “I don’t think it’ll do any good in this screwed up environment.” He looked around. “We better get Dixon and Quincy back to the Rainier so they can get med attention asap.”
        “What about the others?” the corporal asked. Ballatin remembered his name as Yonig.
        Ironsides looked down at the dead Marines. “Leave ’em, they’ll weigh us down,” Ironsides said.
        “What about the technology?” Yonig countered.
        “Doesn’t matter. Look at the points of impact on their suits. These intruders knew how to take us out. They must’ve already studied our suits. What I don’t get is how fast they learned about us.” Ironsides sighed in frustration. “There’s only two ways they could’ve done that. One is if we’ve run into them before. The other is that they must be fucking brilliant and fast learners.”
        “Which do you think it is, sir?” Ballatin asked.
        “I don’t think we’ve ever run into each other before. Up on the Main Bridge, when they attacked us, they didn’t hit us as sharp as they hit you guys down here. If they knew how to take us down then, I wouldn’t be standing here.”
        Ballatin watched as several of the others picked up Dixon and Quincy, carrying them back down the main corridor. She hefted her rifle and started walking after them, with the major by her side.
        The major asked her for a quick rundown of what happened. “Well, sir, they ambushed us. They knew we were coming,” she told him. She went on to recount the recent events.

        “Marine Boat Three to No Name City,” Sergeant Fischer spoke in his suit’s comm system. “We are now docking.”
        Bogarde’s voice came through relatively clear, although background noise filled the signal. “Copy that, Marine Boat Three.”
        Fischer ran his fingers over the cargo shuttle’s controls. He looked out the rounded cockpit windows to see the mottled hull of the Galaxy alongside them. “I need visual, someone line up the collar!”
        Another Marine stepped up to the console that linked to the docking collar. “It’s a bitch operating without transporters,” he muttered, to the agreement of the others.
        “Yeah, yeah,” Fischer said. “So how about it? Am I lined up?”
        “Yes, sir, you are.”
        Fischer gently set the shuttle in a lateral motion. He felt the slight jarring of the connection. “Mags on!” he shouted.
        “Mags on,” the Marine on watch acknowledged, stepping away from the docking collar. The magnetic latches that ringed the docking collar attached to the metallic circle that lined the Galaxy’s docking port.
        Fischer tapped in the commands to extend the collar and hooks that held the collar in place on the docking port. The shuttle shook slightly as the mechanisms snapped into place.
        The vibrations ceased, and Fischer checked his readouts. “We’re fully docked. Suit up and seal up, we’re going in!” He twisted the pilot’s seat around to watch the Marines latch onto their helmets and check their rifles. He started putting on his gauntlets and his helmet. “Marine Boat Three to No Name City, docking successful. We are disembarking in one minute.”
        “Copy that,” Bogarde replied from his station on the Courageous.
        Fischer snapped his helmet in place and stood up, grabbing his rifle. “Move out!”
        The Marine that stood by the door hatch tapped on the keypad. The door slid open, revealing the short metallic tube that connected the shuttle to the ship. He walked out onto the tube, feeling a slight weightlessness. He bounced up to the Galaxy’s docking port, and used the manual switch to open the port.
        As the door opened, there was a slight hiss of pressure escaping as the minimal air in the ship entered the docking tube. The lead Marine stepped into the ship, clicking his flashlight on. He looked around and swung his rifle around, shining his light.
        He failed to notice a glint of reflected light as he turned to signal all clear.
        A sudden onrush of air pressure pushed the Marine back into the shuttle. He turned and saw two black suited figures hiding behind a forcefield.
        Fischer saw the same thing as well. He realized that they must’ve flooded that particular section of the deck with air, and released a forcefield. The Marines hadn’t been planning on docking with a port full of high air pressure.
        All of this came too late to him as he tumbled end over end, when the shuttle broke free from its docking clamp. The enemy had avoided using weapons due to the gases in the nebula. Instead, they had used the force of an explosive decompression to drive off the shuttle.
        He grabbed on desperately for any kind of handhold. He needed to get back to the pilot’s console to stop the shuttle’s tumbling. He pulled himself into the cockpit, and slid himself into the pilot’s seat. He tapped the consoles, when a warning light flashed.
        He read the warning message from the computer. The structural integrity field was failing. Gravitational forces were increasing. The shuttle began buckling all around him.

Chapter 9

        Johnson watched aghast as the shuttle tumbled away from the Galaxy. “Bogarde, can we tractor them?”
        “No, sir, we can’t,” Bogarde said. “Even if targeting sensors could work properly, we’re much too out of range.”
        “Damn it!”
        “Looks like it’s being drawn to the dense gravitational fields further in the nebula,” Bogarde added.
        “Doctor Joh told us about those. They’ll be crushed,” Johnson realized. “Their shuttle can’t hold up against those kind of gravimetric forces.”
        “They’re off sensors now,” Bogarde announced. “They’re gone.”
        Johnson sat back down in his seat, rubbing his forehead. He heard a woman’s voice talking. It was the Galaxy’s captain speaking on the monitor between Johnson’s seat and Kyle’s seat. She had been listening to the captain’s logs for the past hour. Johnson shook his head and looked back at the viewscreen.

        Kyle blinked and looked away from the viewscreen, back at her monitor.
        “Right now, we’re under attack,” Keller said. “The aliens are overrunning us, we can’t hold them back. They keep pushing us away. I can’t contact anyone in Engineering. I have to assume they’re all dead now. Whether it’s from a structural breach or from the aliens, I don’t know.”
        Lieutenant Kyle sighed, watching the replay on the monitor by her side. She looked up at Captain Johnson, seated in the command seat. He was frowning at the viewscreen.
        She returned her attention to the captain’s log that had been running during the horrible crisis with the Marines’ shuttle. “All attempts to communicate with them have failed. Either they’re not listening, or they can’t understand us. I think they’re not listening.”
        Kyle heard several harried voices shouting in the background, but the poor quality of the recording prevented her from being able to understand them. Captain Keller understood them, however, and barked several orders in reply.
        The recording froze, then skipped several time frames, resuming in midsentence. “--think that we will get out of this. We were finally able to shut down the Transwarp Drive before we were sent to another location. Doctor Ganner thinks it had something to do with the gravimetric forces of this nebula we’re trapped in. We think the aliens are trap--”
        The log entry went black, and Kyle stopped the playback, since that was all that was available to view. She looked up to see Johnson looking at her. “Can you give me some good news? Anything useful?”
        “Not sure. The intruders on the ship may have been trapped in here the same as the Galaxy was. I think the nebula affected the Transwarp Drive,” she told him.
        “Perhaps Doctor Joh will be able to determine that. If you find any information, forward it to her.”
        “Yes, sir.”
        “What else can you tell me?” Johnson asked, crossing his legs as he rubbed the back of his neck.
        “Well, I can tell you that Captain Keller put the emergency protocols in effect when the aliens revealed an hostile intent. She wiped out most of the information about the Transwarp Drive.”
        “She stated that in her log?”
        “Not in so much words, sir,” Kyle replied. “She made a reference to it. In addition to that, I can’t find any technical information in the download we made. Much of the computer memory has been erased.”
        “Do we know when this happened? Or how the aliens got aboard?”
        “I can’t find much information at all, captain,” Kyle sighed. “There was a mention of a collision with another ship soon after entering the nebula.”
        “Ironsides mentioned that one of the nacelles showed signs of an collision,” Johnson mused.
        “That’s probably it, sir.”
        “Where’s the other ship then?” Johnson frowned, looking at the murky viewscreen.
        “Unknown. If I had to guess, it’d be in one of the shuttlebays.”
        “How many aliens are there?”
        Kyle looked at Johnson. “Look, sir, I don’t know. I still have hundreds of log entries to go through. Most of them are badly fragmented, so I can only retrieve partial recordings. The computer purges Captain Keller did affected her log entries too.”
        “I see,” Johnson nodded. “Well, resume your work. I’m going to Sickbay to see to the injured we brought back. And I need to tell Ironsides what just happened.”
        Kyle nodded, and fixed her bleary eyes back on the monitor by her seat.

        Johnson walked into Sickbay, hearing a hurried conversation. He saw Ironsides standing with his helmet in his hand, watching several people huddled around the surgical bed in the far back of Sickbay. Johnson recognized Hartman as one of the doctors at work.
        Johnson walked over to Ironsides. “What’s going on, Max?”
        “Private Micah Quincy is dead,” Ironsides told him. “She died enroute to the Courageous. The docs couldn’t revive her.”
        “What about your other man, Dixon?”
        “They’re still working on him. His lungs almost collapsed in the low pressure of his suit when he had the breach.”
        Johnson nodded. “I’m sure he’ll pull through.” He sighed and leaned against an empty biobed, looking at Ironsides. “Something’s happened.”
        Ironsides frowned and looked at Johnson. “What is it, sir?”
        “We lost a squad.”
        “What?! How?”
        “It seems that the intruders pressurized the deck where the San Francisco was to dock. They didn’t know about it. They docked and, I guess, the intruders flooded the deck with air pressure somehow. Maybe they set up a force field through the controls on the Main Bridge.”
        Ironsides’s jaw clenched as he listened to Johnson explain what happened to the shuttle. He shook his head when Johnson finished.
        “I’m sorry,” the captain said. “Now that we know a little more about them and what they know, we’ll be able to stop them.”
        Ironsides turned to look at Johnson. “A little more? We know next to nothing about them. And they sure as hell know more about us than we do about them. They nearly annihilated six Marines in full combat gear in almost no time flat. At least two by hand-to-hand combat. And they’ve got partial control of the ship, apparently. They know their way around our technology.”
        “Those were ambushes. We’ll be more prepared. We’ll have more men too. I have Lieutenant Kyle reviewing the records we were able to pull from the Galaxy’s memory cores. That should give us some more information. She’s already found their name- the Vendoth.”
        Ironsides glanced at Johnson. He raised his wrist gauntlet, looking at the readout. “The Vesuvius is due to disembark to the Galaxy. I have to go.”
        “I’ll accompany you to the shuttlebay,” Johnson said. He took one last look at the doctors working on Dixon.
        Ironsides walked out of the Sickbay, and Johnson hurried to catch up with him. The two walked silently down the corridor. They entered a turbolift and went down through the ship.
        Finally Ironsides spoke. “Sir, there comes a point where enough is enough.”
        “Hmm?” Johnson asked.
        “The casualty list is now at twenty-four, and one seriously injured.”
        “I’m well aware of that.”
        “What’s the mission parameters here?” Ironsides asked, staring at Johnson.
        “Well, we need to find out what happened to the Galaxy.”
        “You have Lieutenant Kyle working on that already.”
        “We can’t leave the Galaxy in the Vendoth’s hands.”
        “We don’t have to. We can scuttle the ship,” Ironsides said. “I can load up the runabout with Q-6 charges, and have my men plant them near the Galaxy’s own autodestruct ordinance, and we’ll blow the ship.”
        “We can’t waste a ship like that,” Johnson shot back. “You know as well as I do we need all the ships we can salvage for our fleet.”
        “Yes, I know.”
        “So your mission parameters are to eliminate the intruders and secure the ship, Major. So there’s not a repeat of you re-interpreting my orders, like you did a few months ago with Zandria Soran, I’ll make it clear. We need that ship, that’s an order. I’m not going to consider scuttling it.”
        “Yes, sir.”
        The turbolift doors opened, and the men walked out into the hallway. They continued walking side by side. Johnson looked at Ironsides. “Do you have any questions about the plan?”
        “You still want to go ahead with the plan? After what happened to the San Francisco?”
        “Yes. The plan is still viable. The men on the Vesuvius and the ones still on the Galaxy should give you enough to carry out the plan. It should be easy once we’re all out of the nebula. Chief Fonda’s been able to establish better communications, so we’ll be in constant touch with you, all the way.”
        Ironsides nodded. “That much will make it a little better. I still think we need more prep time.”
        “The sooner we do it, the better. We can’t let the Vendoth entrench themselves in the ship and get more control. We already know they’re in Main Engineering and the Bridge. If we give them more time, they could take the ship themselves.” Johnson sighed. “You said so yourself that they’re learning at a fast speed.”
        “I still feel we’re going in this ass-backwards,” Ironsides shook his head. “This is a very smart enemy, which makes them a very dangerous enemy. This is a fucked up situation all around.”
        “I know. Look, all we need to do is get to the Battle Bridge, lock them out with the security codes we know. Then we’ll take the ship out of the nebula. Once outside all this interference, we’ll have the advantage.”
        They approached the doubledoors that led to the shuttlebay. Johnson stopped Ironsides. “Look, I don’t have to explain myself to you, but I did. We need that ship. Scuttling it is not a good option.”
        “You’re right,” Ironsides said. “It’s not a good option. I think it’s the best option.”
        Johnson frowned at the major.
        Ironsides nodded. “But I will carry out your orders, sir.”
        Johnson watched Ironsides enter the shuttlebay.

        Aung’Rama breathed in the air in the dimly light Engine Room. Her people had done a good job deciphering the power scheme of the ship. They rerouted the power and filled the chamber with air. Now the Vendoth could work without the constraints of their suits. The inferior technology, while interestingly designed, was not very compatible with the suits’s hand gloves.
        Tr’Dunarg stepped up to her. “Project Leader Qe’Doth Aung’Rama, is everything to your acceptance?”
        “Yes, Tr’Dunarg,” Aung’Rama replied. “It was fortuitous of the previous intruders to supply us with the power we so needed. Unfortunately, we expended much of that energy in repelling the small craft recently. Now... if Roq’Ragn had not attacked so precipitously, we might have been able to gain more of their power batteries before we revealed our presence.”
        Tr’Dunarg shifted in position, indicating his discomfort. “That is not for me to comment on, Project Leader. Roq’Ragn is our VenQu’, I must defer to his judgment in these matters.”
        “But I don’t need to,” Aung’Rama replied. She regarded the other Vendoth intently. “Do you defer to his judgment that we do not need more information from the inferiors who designed this ship?”
        Tr’Dunarg opened his mouth, and clamped it shut.
        “Answer,” Aung’Rama hissed.
        “From a logical viewpoint, he is correct. We naturally should be able to understand their technology.”
        “That does not sound like an answer.”
        Tr’Dunarg clasped his hands together in front of him. “There are always exceptions to circumstances, and this seems to be one of them.”
        Aung’Rama stepped up to the long column, which the VenQo’ and Qo’Doths had determined to be the main source of energy for the ship’s propulsion. “You seem to be afraid to indicate the superior reasoning.” She turned around to face Tr’Dunarg. “There cannot be two superiors in one group.”
        “Of course, you are the superior to Roq’Ragn. Your bloodline, your knowledge, and your experience clearly overwhelms Roq’Ragn’s.”
        “Then why is it that Roq’Ragn seems to refuse to acknowledge that?” Aung’Rama clicked her trimmed talons on the console that ringed the propulsion column.
        She turned to Tr’Dunarg. “Continue your work. I will go to this craft’s Command Center and supervise your efforts from there.”

        “Got any new information I can use?” Nathan Favor asked, walking down to Kyle’s side.
        Kyle looked up at the Federation Ambassador. “A little. They’re called the Vendoth.”
        “Vendoth? I wonder if that’s the correct way to pronounce it,” Favor mused. “Where’d you get that information from?”
        Kyle leaned back in her seat and twisted the monitor at an angle so Favor could see. She tapped a menu button, and a recording started playing.
        Favor could see the bedraggled face of Captain Keller. “They call themselves the Vendoth. They claim to be an advanced race. Apparently their shuttle collided with--” The recording froze and ended.
        Favor frowned. “Is that all there is?”
        Kyle rubbed her reddened eyes. “The minute I saw this playback, I ran a search through the whole database, such as it were, for any mention of the Vendoth. That’s the only entry that mentions them by name.”
        “Any visual recordings of them?”
        “Just one,” Kyle answered. “Won’t be much help for you.”
        “We’ll see about that,” Favor said. “Show me.”
        Kyle tapped in a series of commands. Another recording of Keller appeared on the monitor. She was shouting.
        “--my last recording! They’re breaking through to the Bridge! If anyone ever retrieves this, tell the families of my crew, I’m sorry. So very sorry.”
        Weapons fire erupted through a door behind Keller. A black figure stepped through, waving what seemed to be a rifle. He fired at Keller. The captain’s mouth opened, and the screen went black.
        Favor sighed. “Go back to when the figure comes in full view. Freeze that.”
        Kyle nodded, and produced the image. “That’s what the others have reported seeing on the Galaxy now.”
        “Looks pretty short.”
        “Yes. The computer’s extrapolated this being’s height to 1.47 meters high.”
        “Much shorter than me,” Favor remarked. “Can you give me a close up view?”
        “Sure, already did that, but there’s no details to make out. You can’t see their faces and you can’t see any markings on their suits.”
        Favor leaned against the Tactical station’s railing. “The absence of what we can see can still tell us something. There are a few possibilities I can think of right off the top of my head. One, the fact that they’re not revealing their appearance means they like holding their cards close to their chest. Like the Breen, for instance. These Vendoth probably consider knowledge as an edge, something that gives them an upper hand in dealings with other species.”
        Kyle nodded.
        “No markings. That’s very atypical. Usually there are markings to tell one from the other. We have nameplates on our EVA suits. I’m sure they have something, but we can’t see it. That leads to another possibility. They may see in a different visual spectrum than we do. Or it could be the faceplate that acts like a filter.”
        “Well, how do you know what’s the right guess?”
        “I don’t,” he told Kyle. “I just keep all the possibilities in my mind so I’m not too surprised when one possibility reveals itself as the truth.”
        “Oh. A poker face, then?”
        “Exactly.”
        Bogarde cleared his throat. “The Vesuvius has reached the doors to Shuttlebay One.”
        Favor looked up at Johnson, who sat in the command seat. The captain nodded. “Proceed with the plan.”

SECTION ONE | SECTION TWO | SECTION THREE | SECTION FOUR

 MISSIONS | PERSONNEL | SHIP SPECS | COMMENTS | CREDITS | MAIN