Here it is - the next installment in Deep Space Nine, Generation 2. I have to give a lot of thanks to CaptainSarine who's given this the once over and whose help has undoubtedly made this a better product in the long run.
STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE
GENERATION 2
ENDURANCE
Deep Space Nine
Bajoran System, Alpha Quadrant
It had been two weeks since the event that the Federation News Service had been calling 'The Rapture'. Two weeks since an unknown number of people, starships, planets and even, in at least one case, a whole starsystem suddenly and unexplicably blinked out of existence. Two weeks and Starfleet was no closer to understanding the why, what and how of the situation.
Aamon Preloc had spent those two weeks dealing with the fall out. With the entire Vanhook system having vanished, along with the Federation colony on Vanhook IV and the starbase that had been under construction in orbit, the station was experiencing a lot more traffic than it had in years. At least according to Lieutenant Simm.
Of course, that now meant that Command would probably decide to send someone with a higher rank to replace him. With Deep Space Nine gaining importance on the galactic scene, she needed a proper commander, not just an eager Lieutenant playing caretaker.
Preloc was expecting the arrival of his replacement, someone higher up the rank ladder, anyday soon. If Deep Space Nine was going to become busy again, then she needed a proper commander and not just an eager Lieutenant playing caretaker.
He hoped it didn't happen but he expected it to.
Since the Rapture, Preloc had ordered Ensign Damian Stevens to analyse all of the data that the mission to Vanhook System had retrieved, pool it with any data that could be aquired from other sources and see what he could come up with. Despite his best attempts, Stevens, like the rest of Starfleet, had been unable to come up with any answers.
There had simply been no energy remnants, particle residue or field distortions that could have provided some sort of stepping stone to developing a theory on what had happened.
Preloc sighed, massaged his temples and put the latest non-report from Stevens onto the desk in his office, gazing out into the busy Operations Centre where his crew were going about their business.
Some denizens of the Gamma Quadrant who had been resident in areas of the Alpha Quadrant were choosing now to return home and, likewise, many Alpha Quadrant natives were returning to their home quadrant. With the staffing on Deep Space Nine depleted in the past decade, it was a wonder that nothing bad had happened because of the traffic.
He may have spoken too soon. The door to his office slid open, revealing Lieutenant Simm Tau, his Bajoran First Officer, stood in the doorway. She had a look on her face that meant this was serious.
"It's not ..." he feared the worst, that more disappearances had occured.
Simm picked up on this.
"No, it's not that. We've got the USS Endurance entering the system, they've got docking permits but they weren't on the list ..."
Preloc rolled his eyes, someone somewhere had obviously forgotten to upload the new list to the database. It occured to him that with so many people having just vanished, there were probably a great deal of people pulling double duty.
He followed Simm into Ops and took up position at the operations table.
"Patch the Endurance through, Mister Neelakantha."
The handsome Indian CPO nodded, worked at his console. The smiling face of a middle-aged female Ferengi appeared on the screen, wearing a red Starfleet uniform adorned with the rank pips of a Lieutenant Commander.
"Took your time, Lieutenant," said the Ferengi female. "I'm Commander Neela, Captain of the Endurance. Seems there's been a bit of a mess up with docking permits, I'm assuming there's still a berth available ... ?"
Preloc looked at Simm who was standing at a secondary console where she wouldn't be visible on the Endurance's viewscreen. As soon as she saw Preloc looking across at her, she nodded, biting her lip.
"Of course, my First Officer is forwarding the relevant details to the Endurance," said Preloc. "Here's hoping you enjoy your visit to the station, Commander."
Naala nodded, the screen went black and Preloc took a moment to close his eyes and take a deep breath. By the time he opened his eyes, Simm was at his side again.
"Nice lady," muttered the Bajoran, sarcasm heavy in her voice. Preloc could not agree more.
USS Endurance, Docked at Deep Space Nine
Bajoran System, Alpha Quadrant
Lieutenant Preloc waited until the Endurance had docked at Deep Space Nine and then made overtures towards Lt Commander Naala, inviting her to join him for a meal in his quarters or at the Binary Bar on the station’s Promenade. Naala kindly refused, explaining that she found Ferengi cuisine inedible in most restaurants and from most replicators . She told him that she'd spent months programming the replicators on the Endurance to replicate passable Ferengi cuisine.
The implication had been clear and as Preloc navigated the gun-metal grey corridors of the Endurance, he decided that the woman couldn’t be all that bad if she could put on a meal.
The Endurance wasn't a big ship, measuring only one hundred and ten metres in length and fifty eight metres in width, it had five decks and a present crew of twenty seven.
It therefore didn't take long to reach the commander’s quarters located behind the bridge on the port side of the vessel. They were small, much smaller than the quarters he occupied on Deep Space Nine, but Lieutenant Commander Naala had made herself at home hanging several Elysian tapestries on the walls and a blanket of Deltan Thurk wool tossed over the room’s sole couch.
It wasn't what he had expected, nor was the meal, which seemed to be a taster of several different culinary cultures within the Federation, including a handful of the more palatable Ferengi dishes. As the meal progressed, he found himself warming to the woman and by the time they were nibbling on Vulcan after dinner mints and sipping on small glasses of madeira, he was quite enjoying her company.
"You know," he said, finishing his glass of madeira, "you're not at all how I expected you to be , Commander."
Naala nodded, as if she'd expected the comment and prepared her response.
"Neither are you, Lieutenant."
"Touche," toasted Preloc, raising his glass to knock against hers. "Seriously, you haven't once mentioned the Rules of Aquistion, the Blessed Exchequer or ..."
"I don't believe in them. Not all of my species are out for commercial gain," she explained. "A small sect shun pursuit of capital and business, live an agrarian life on one of Ferenginar's smaller continents and keep themselves to themselves. I belong to that sect. I'm the first of my people," she emphasized the word 'my', "to join Starfleet, not just the first Ferengi female."
Preloc nodded.
"Admirable."
Their exchange was interrupted by Preloc's communicator beeping. Preloc tapped it and opened a channel.
"Sir, this is Lieutenant Simm," the voice of Preloc's First Officer came over the communication channel. "We've just picked up a distress signal from a freighter drifting a half dozen systems away -"
Preloc took the information in, noticed that Naala had recieved a hail via her own communicator and was speaking to her own crew. Probably about the same thing.
"- we can have the Massalia and the Antipolis there in two hours, the Ben Nevis there in one. What are your orders?"
Preloc and Naala locked eyes, they WERE discussing the same thing and they had obviously come to the same conclusion about what actions needed to be taken. None of the runabouts assigned to Deep Space Nine were equipped with quantum slipstream, which had been introduced into the fleet about ten years earlier, but the Endurance was.
"Lieutenant Simm, how long would it take to reach the vessel at slipstream?" he inquired.
Simm took a moment to respond, running the calculations before responding.
"Ten minutes."
"Understood, prepare the Massalia, the Antipolis and the Ben Nevis for the trip, departing as soon as they're ready. Keep the Cyrene at the station, just in case. I'll travel to the freighter on the Endurance."
Endurance would arrive on site within thirty minutes, the Ben Nevis would arrive fifty minutes later with the Massalia and the Antipolis arriving an hour after that. Hopefully the runabouts wouldn't be needed, but if they needed to evacuate the freighter, the Atlantis Class vessel didn't have enough room to transport the evacuees back to Deep Space Nine whereas the Syracuse Class runabouts and the USS Ben Nevis did have that available space.
"Aye, Captain," responded Simm, cutting the link.
Naala indicated the door to her quarters.
"Shall we?"
USS Endurance,
En-route to the Quitley System, Alpha Quadrant
The bridge of the USS Endurance was similar in layout to that of the USS Ben Nevis. Helm, Operations and Tactical sat in the familiar configuration and two additional consoles, dedicated to Engineering and Science, were located towards the rear of the command deck, either side of the door and behind the port and starboard windows.
When Preloc and Naala had entered the bridge, Naala had relieved an athletically built, olive skinned Vulcan man, who had taken over at the Helm station. The petty officer manning the helm had taken a seat at the rear science console.
Preloc stood next to Naala who perched on the edge of the command chair as the vessel made a mad dash through space using her quantum slipstream drive. The Ferengi commander had her Ops Manager, a blonde haired Human female, pull up the specifications of the freighter. It turned out that the freighter was carrying upwards of thirty passengers in addition to her crew, so Preloc congratulated himself on anticipating the need for the extra help the runabouts and the Ben Nevis would be able to afford.
After ten minutes, the Endurance dropped out of quantum slipstream and slowed to a halt near the drifting freighter. The hull was obviously damaged, one of the nacelles had been blasted clean off and there was damage to the compact blue deflector dish at the front of the ship. As he'd suspected, the distress call had been so weak because of the damage the ship had endured - he just hoped that it wasn’t so bad that it would pose a threat to any away team sent across.
Naala ordered the usual scans, confirming that there were fifty lifesigns onboard from various humanoid species. The atmosphere was breathable and only a small handful of the lifesigns suggested that they were in a critical condition.
Lieutenant Tyran, the ship’s Vulcan First Officer, was ordered to lead a team over to the vessel alongside one of the ship’s science specialists, an engineer and the ship’s medic. The EMH would be activated in the Endurance's compact sickbay with other crew standing by to help out - but the ship would only be able to hold a quarter of the freighter passengers at any one time without becoming too crowded.
Preloc felt useless.
"Commander Naala, permission to join the mission to the freighter?"
Naala looked the Cardassian over before cracking a smile and nodding.
"Don't see why not."
Crippled Freighter,
Quitley System, Alpha Quadrant
Preloc and Tyran materialised in the confines of the freighter’s compact bridge, which wasn't that much bigger than the one on the Endurance. It was a standard civilian layout with old-style consoles instead of the upgraded ones used onboard Starfleet ships and, judging by the information displayed, the ship was one of the ones not equipped with quantum slipstream.
The other crewmembers that the Endurance had beamed over dispersed into the corridor, seeking out the thirty plus passengers and crew that had survived the assault on the freighter.
Tyran leaned over a console, tried to activate it - but the console didn't illuminate, remaining dead and unresponsive.
"They must have relocated control of the vessel to somewhere else," suggested Preloc as he brushed his hand over one of the consoles. "Vessels of this age and type don't have Auxiliary Bridges. Engineering's a possibility ..."
Tyran looked round, the Vulcan’s features implaccable.
"That is logical." He appeared calm but the irritation at having the other Lieutenant on his team could not be masked in his voice. "We should go and have a look."
Preloc followed the Vulcan down the corridor that ran the length of the freighter’s top deck. Bridge at one end, Engineering at the other with a number of bulkheads that could be dropped in case of depressurisation or in case of fire positioned in between.
None of the bulkheads had been dropped.
The surmise that the Bridge had been abandoned and control of the vessel moved to Engineering was proved correct when the Vulcan and Cardassian stepped into the medium size room that was dominated by an unpowered warp core. The ship must be operating on energy from the impulse and emergency reactors.
There were a handful of people working at consoles scattered around the room, including a white haired Efrosian man in civilian clothes, a couple of Humans (one male, one female) in freighter jumpsuits and an imposing Corvallen male, who appeared to the one in charge of the motley group.
"I am Lieutenant Tyran of the USS Endurance. We picked up your distress signal and are here to render aid," explained Tyran, making his way across the room to the freighters crew.
The Corvallen male angled his head, his mottled brown reptilian skin looking quite fearsome. Preloc was a big man himself, but wouldn't want to meet the Corvallen down a dark ally.
"Captain Masc." The Corvallen introduced himself, then gestured towards the two Humans, "Two of my crew, Tessmacher and Castle. And one of our passengers, Professor Xav Ra-Tomei ..."
Tomei stepped forward, offered his hand. The name of the Efrosian rang a bell in Preloc's mind so he made a mental note to look the figure up when he got back to the Endurance or one of the ships under his own command.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Professor," replied Tyran, avoiding the hand shake that Preloc graciously accepted. "Now, I understand that you haven't been able to make sufficient progress with repairing your warp engines? Do you require any assistance?"
The female crewman, possibly the engineer, looked up from where she had been working. Preloc noticed the tag on her jumpsuit read Tessmacher. That must mean that Castle was the other, male, crewmember.
"I can't see any way we can get the warp core started up again," she explained. "We'd be best off towing the ship to Deep Space Nine or one of the other nearby ports and installing a new warp core."
Preloc nodded.
"I'm sure that could be arranged," he interjected.
"My crew are currently working with your passengers and seeing to any medical emergencies you might have," explained Tyran. "I'll have the tow to Deep Space Nine arranged. Perhaps, though, you could explain to us how your ship was so damaged?"
The four non-Starfleet people in the room exchanged a cautious look, like they thought that they might be better keeping the reasons for the damage a secret or that they thought they might not be believed.
"We were heading towards Deep Space Nine, via Cardassian space," explained Captain Masc. "A lot of our passengers are Romulan refugees, you see, looking to be resettled at the colony on Cardassia Prime. Without warning, we were under attack from what appeared to be an Orion Raider - it began firing on us, heavily damaging the ship, it made us abandon the Bridge and damaged our core and communications equipment. They beamed our cargo out and I thought for sure they were going to finish us off ..."
Masc looked at the two Starfleet officers, trying to read their faces and see if they believed what he was saying. Tyran, of course, being a Vulcan remained stoic whilst Preloc nodded and gestured for him to continue.
"Anyway - suddenly the Orion Raider vanished. It didn't go to warp and it didn't blow up. One minute it was there, the next second it wasn't. You'll find that hard to believe, my friend, but it's true."
Tyran raised an eyebrow.
"Captain, let me fill you in what's happened since you were attacked whilst Tyran makes the necessary arrangements," said Preloc. And he explained about the Rapture Event, about the ships, people, planets and entire solar systems that had vanished in the blink of an eye.
And he thought that, in this one instance at least, that the event had been a blessing because if the Orion Raider hadn't vanished, the freighter would most definitely have been destroyed and her crew and passengers killed.
STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE
GENERATION 2
ENDURANCE
Deep Space Nine
Bajoran System, Alpha Quadrant
It had been two weeks since the event that the Federation News Service had been calling 'The Rapture'. Two weeks since an unknown number of people, starships, planets and even, in at least one case, a whole starsystem suddenly and unexplicably blinked out of existence. Two weeks and Starfleet was no closer to understanding the why, what and how of the situation.
Aamon Preloc had spent those two weeks dealing with the fall out. With the entire Vanhook system having vanished, along with the Federation colony on Vanhook IV and the starbase that had been under construction in orbit, the station was experiencing a lot more traffic than it had in years. At least according to Lieutenant Simm.
Of course, that now meant that Command would probably decide to send someone with a higher rank to replace him. With Deep Space Nine gaining importance on the galactic scene, she needed a proper commander, not just an eager Lieutenant playing caretaker.
Preloc was expecting the arrival of his replacement, someone higher up the rank ladder, anyday soon. If Deep Space Nine was going to become busy again, then she needed a proper commander and not just an eager Lieutenant playing caretaker.
He hoped it didn't happen but he expected it to.
Since the Rapture, Preloc had ordered Ensign Damian Stevens to analyse all of the data that the mission to Vanhook System had retrieved, pool it with any data that could be aquired from other sources and see what he could come up with. Despite his best attempts, Stevens, like the rest of Starfleet, had been unable to come up with any answers.
There had simply been no energy remnants, particle residue or field distortions that could have provided some sort of stepping stone to developing a theory on what had happened.
Preloc sighed, massaged his temples and put the latest non-report from Stevens onto the desk in his office, gazing out into the busy Operations Centre where his crew were going about their business.
Some denizens of the Gamma Quadrant who had been resident in areas of the Alpha Quadrant were choosing now to return home and, likewise, many Alpha Quadrant natives were returning to their home quadrant. With the staffing on Deep Space Nine depleted in the past decade, it was a wonder that nothing bad had happened because of the traffic.
He may have spoken too soon. The door to his office slid open, revealing Lieutenant Simm Tau, his Bajoran First Officer, stood in the doorway. She had a look on her face that meant this was serious.
"It's not ..." he feared the worst, that more disappearances had occured.
Simm picked up on this.
"No, it's not that. We've got the USS Endurance entering the system, they've got docking permits but they weren't on the list ..."
Preloc rolled his eyes, someone somewhere had obviously forgotten to upload the new list to the database. It occured to him that with so many people having just vanished, there were probably a great deal of people pulling double duty.
He followed Simm into Ops and took up position at the operations table.
"Patch the Endurance through, Mister Neelakantha."
The handsome Indian CPO nodded, worked at his console. The smiling face of a middle-aged female Ferengi appeared on the screen, wearing a red Starfleet uniform adorned with the rank pips of a Lieutenant Commander.
"Took your time, Lieutenant," said the Ferengi female. "I'm Commander Neela, Captain of the Endurance. Seems there's been a bit of a mess up with docking permits, I'm assuming there's still a berth available ... ?"
Preloc looked at Simm who was standing at a secondary console where she wouldn't be visible on the Endurance's viewscreen. As soon as she saw Preloc looking across at her, she nodded, biting her lip.
"Of course, my First Officer is forwarding the relevant details to the Endurance," said Preloc. "Here's hoping you enjoy your visit to the station, Commander."
Naala nodded, the screen went black and Preloc took a moment to close his eyes and take a deep breath. By the time he opened his eyes, Simm was at his side again.
"Nice lady," muttered the Bajoran, sarcasm heavy in her voice. Preloc could not agree more.
USS Endurance, Docked at Deep Space Nine
Bajoran System, Alpha Quadrant
Lieutenant Preloc waited until the Endurance had docked at Deep Space Nine and then made overtures towards Lt Commander Naala, inviting her to join him for a meal in his quarters or at the Binary Bar on the station’s Promenade. Naala kindly refused, explaining that she found Ferengi cuisine inedible in most restaurants and from most replicators . She told him that she'd spent months programming the replicators on the Endurance to replicate passable Ferengi cuisine.
The implication had been clear and as Preloc navigated the gun-metal grey corridors of the Endurance, he decided that the woman couldn’t be all that bad if she could put on a meal.
The Endurance wasn't a big ship, measuring only one hundred and ten metres in length and fifty eight metres in width, it had five decks and a present crew of twenty seven.
It therefore didn't take long to reach the commander’s quarters located behind the bridge on the port side of the vessel. They were small, much smaller than the quarters he occupied on Deep Space Nine, but Lieutenant Commander Naala had made herself at home hanging several Elysian tapestries on the walls and a blanket of Deltan Thurk wool tossed over the room’s sole couch.
It wasn't what he had expected, nor was the meal, which seemed to be a taster of several different culinary cultures within the Federation, including a handful of the more palatable Ferengi dishes. As the meal progressed, he found himself warming to the woman and by the time they were nibbling on Vulcan after dinner mints and sipping on small glasses of madeira, he was quite enjoying her company.
"You know," he said, finishing his glass of madeira, "you're not at all how I expected you to be , Commander."
Naala nodded, as if she'd expected the comment and prepared her response.
"Neither are you, Lieutenant."
"Touche," toasted Preloc, raising his glass to knock against hers. "Seriously, you haven't once mentioned the Rules of Aquistion, the Blessed Exchequer or ..."
"I don't believe in them. Not all of my species are out for commercial gain," she explained. "A small sect shun pursuit of capital and business, live an agrarian life on one of Ferenginar's smaller continents and keep themselves to themselves. I belong to that sect. I'm the first of my people," she emphasized the word 'my', "to join Starfleet, not just the first Ferengi female."
Preloc nodded.
"Admirable."
Their exchange was interrupted by Preloc's communicator beeping. Preloc tapped it and opened a channel.
"Sir, this is Lieutenant Simm," the voice of Preloc's First Officer came over the communication channel. "We've just picked up a distress signal from a freighter drifting a half dozen systems away -"
Preloc took the information in, noticed that Naala had recieved a hail via her own communicator and was speaking to her own crew. Probably about the same thing.
"- we can have the Massalia and the Antipolis there in two hours, the Ben Nevis there in one. What are your orders?"
Preloc and Naala locked eyes, they WERE discussing the same thing and they had obviously come to the same conclusion about what actions needed to be taken. None of the runabouts assigned to Deep Space Nine were equipped with quantum slipstream, which had been introduced into the fleet about ten years earlier, but the Endurance was.
"Lieutenant Simm, how long would it take to reach the vessel at slipstream?" he inquired.
Simm took a moment to respond, running the calculations before responding.
"Ten minutes."
"Understood, prepare the Massalia, the Antipolis and the Ben Nevis for the trip, departing as soon as they're ready. Keep the Cyrene at the station, just in case. I'll travel to the freighter on the Endurance."
Endurance would arrive on site within thirty minutes, the Ben Nevis would arrive fifty minutes later with the Massalia and the Antipolis arriving an hour after that. Hopefully the runabouts wouldn't be needed, but if they needed to evacuate the freighter, the Atlantis Class vessel didn't have enough room to transport the evacuees back to Deep Space Nine whereas the Syracuse Class runabouts and the USS Ben Nevis did have that available space.
"Aye, Captain," responded Simm, cutting the link.
Naala indicated the door to her quarters.
"Shall we?"
USS Endurance,
En-route to the Quitley System, Alpha Quadrant
The bridge of the USS Endurance was similar in layout to that of the USS Ben Nevis. Helm, Operations and Tactical sat in the familiar configuration and two additional consoles, dedicated to Engineering and Science, were located towards the rear of the command deck, either side of the door and behind the port and starboard windows.
When Preloc and Naala had entered the bridge, Naala had relieved an athletically built, olive skinned Vulcan man, who had taken over at the Helm station. The petty officer manning the helm had taken a seat at the rear science console.
Preloc stood next to Naala who perched on the edge of the command chair as the vessel made a mad dash through space using her quantum slipstream drive. The Ferengi commander had her Ops Manager, a blonde haired Human female, pull up the specifications of the freighter. It turned out that the freighter was carrying upwards of thirty passengers in addition to her crew, so Preloc congratulated himself on anticipating the need for the extra help the runabouts and the Ben Nevis would be able to afford.
After ten minutes, the Endurance dropped out of quantum slipstream and slowed to a halt near the drifting freighter. The hull was obviously damaged, one of the nacelles had been blasted clean off and there was damage to the compact blue deflector dish at the front of the ship. As he'd suspected, the distress call had been so weak because of the damage the ship had endured - he just hoped that it wasn’t so bad that it would pose a threat to any away team sent across.
Naala ordered the usual scans, confirming that there were fifty lifesigns onboard from various humanoid species. The atmosphere was breathable and only a small handful of the lifesigns suggested that they were in a critical condition.
Lieutenant Tyran, the ship’s Vulcan First Officer, was ordered to lead a team over to the vessel alongside one of the ship’s science specialists, an engineer and the ship’s medic. The EMH would be activated in the Endurance's compact sickbay with other crew standing by to help out - but the ship would only be able to hold a quarter of the freighter passengers at any one time without becoming too crowded.
Preloc felt useless.
"Commander Naala, permission to join the mission to the freighter?"
Naala looked the Cardassian over before cracking a smile and nodding.
"Don't see why not."
Crippled Freighter,
Quitley System, Alpha Quadrant
Preloc and Tyran materialised in the confines of the freighter’s compact bridge, which wasn't that much bigger than the one on the Endurance. It was a standard civilian layout with old-style consoles instead of the upgraded ones used onboard Starfleet ships and, judging by the information displayed, the ship was one of the ones not equipped with quantum slipstream.
The other crewmembers that the Endurance had beamed over dispersed into the corridor, seeking out the thirty plus passengers and crew that had survived the assault on the freighter.
Tyran leaned over a console, tried to activate it - but the console didn't illuminate, remaining dead and unresponsive.
"They must have relocated control of the vessel to somewhere else," suggested Preloc as he brushed his hand over one of the consoles. "Vessels of this age and type don't have Auxiliary Bridges. Engineering's a possibility ..."
Tyran looked round, the Vulcan’s features implaccable.
"That is logical." He appeared calm but the irritation at having the other Lieutenant on his team could not be masked in his voice. "We should go and have a look."
Preloc followed the Vulcan down the corridor that ran the length of the freighter’s top deck. Bridge at one end, Engineering at the other with a number of bulkheads that could be dropped in case of depressurisation or in case of fire positioned in between.
None of the bulkheads had been dropped.
The surmise that the Bridge had been abandoned and control of the vessel moved to Engineering was proved correct when the Vulcan and Cardassian stepped into the medium size room that was dominated by an unpowered warp core. The ship must be operating on energy from the impulse and emergency reactors.
There were a handful of people working at consoles scattered around the room, including a white haired Efrosian man in civilian clothes, a couple of Humans (one male, one female) in freighter jumpsuits and an imposing Corvallen male, who appeared to the one in charge of the motley group.
"I am Lieutenant Tyran of the USS Endurance. We picked up your distress signal and are here to render aid," explained Tyran, making his way across the room to the freighters crew.
The Corvallen male angled his head, his mottled brown reptilian skin looking quite fearsome. Preloc was a big man himself, but wouldn't want to meet the Corvallen down a dark ally.
"Captain Masc." The Corvallen introduced himself, then gestured towards the two Humans, "Two of my crew, Tessmacher and Castle. And one of our passengers, Professor Xav Ra-Tomei ..."
Tomei stepped forward, offered his hand. The name of the Efrosian rang a bell in Preloc's mind so he made a mental note to look the figure up when he got back to the Endurance or one of the ships under his own command.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Professor," replied Tyran, avoiding the hand shake that Preloc graciously accepted. "Now, I understand that you haven't been able to make sufficient progress with repairing your warp engines? Do you require any assistance?"
The female crewman, possibly the engineer, looked up from where she had been working. Preloc noticed the tag on her jumpsuit read Tessmacher. That must mean that Castle was the other, male, crewmember.
"I can't see any way we can get the warp core started up again," she explained. "We'd be best off towing the ship to Deep Space Nine or one of the other nearby ports and installing a new warp core."
Preloc nodded.
"I'm sure that could be arranged," he interjected.
"My crew are currently working with your passengers and seeing to any medical emergencies you might have," explained Tyran. "I'll have the tow to Deep Space Nine arranged. Perhaps, though, you could explain to us how your ship was so damaged?"
The four non-Starfleet people in the room exchanged a cautious look, like they thought that they might be better keeping the reasons for the damage a secret or that they thought they might not be believed.
"We were heading towards Deep Space Nine, via Cardassian space," explained Captain Masc. "A lot of our passengers are Romulan refugees, you see, looking to be resettled at the colony on Cardassia Prime. Without warning, we were under attack from what appeared to be an Orion Raider - it began firing on us, heavily damaging the ship, it made us abandon the Bridge and damaged our core and communications equipment. They beamed our cargo out and I thought for sure they were going to finish us off ..."
Masc looked at the two Starfleet officers, trying to read their faces and see if they believed what he was saying. Tyran, of course, being a Vulcan remained stoic whilst Preloc nodded and gestured for him to continue.
"Anyway - suddenly the Orion Raider vanished. It didn't go to warp and it didn't blow up. One minute it was there, the next second it wasn't. You'll find that hard to believe, my friend, but it's true."
Tyran raised an eyebrow.
"Captain, let me fill you in what's happened since you were attacked whilst Tyran makes the necessary arrangements," said Preloc. And he explained about the Rapture Event, about the ships, people, planets and entire solar systems that had vanished in the blink of an eye.
And he thought that, in this one instance at least, that the event had been a blessing because if the Orion Raider hadn't vanished, the freighter would most definitely have been destroyed and her crew and passengers killed.
