Star Trek: Into the Void
Episode Twenty - ‘Life is But a Dream
By Jack D. Elmlinger
Prologue
For Isabel Cardonez, Captain of the starship Testudo, it was though time had frozen. There were a dozen things that she knew she should be doing but she couldn’t bring herself to do a single one of them. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from the image on the viewscreen.
The image of a ghost.
The Constitution-class starship USS Ranger had vanished almost a century before with its fate unknown. Of course, the Board of Inquiry had to report something and so they had gone for the most logical explanation. That explanation had been that the Ranger had suffered from a catastrophic event in Sector 29004 as possibly the result of one of the severe ion storms that regularly buffeted the area. It was a tragedy to be certain but it was nothing too unfamiliar in the dangerous realm of deep space exploration.
And that was it.
The Board’s report was published, the families of the Ranger’s crew mourned, each of them in their own way and their own time. The name Ranger was reassigned to the bottom of the inactive list, ready to be used again for some future starship long after the hurt and loss had faded. Starfleet had officially closed the book.
Of course, that wasn’t the end of it. In fact, that was just the beginning of the rumors and theories that would center on Sector 29004 forever after. Some of them postulated that the Ranger had met with an advanced alien race from another Galaxy who had whisked them away for experimentation purposes. Some others felt that a space-born monster had torn the ship apart with its teeth and devoured it. Then there were those whose minds turned to even more sinister ideas. That the Ranger had been testing a new super-weapon and inadvertently destroyed itself. Or that the crew had gone mad and turned on each other in an orgy of rape and murder brought on by exposure to some alien pathogen or from just plain boredom.
During the Testudo’s first voyage under her command, while on course to Malthea Two, Cardonez had perused through some of the theories that abounded about both the Ranger and about Sector 29004. There were thousands of them. That was the trouble with a society without money. Anyone could publish anything that they liked, no matter how outrageous and ensure that it reached a huge audience.
Yet, despite the Board of Inquiry, despite the theories, some of them quite serious but most of them came from the realm of science fiction, despite search after search, no trace of the Ranger had ever been found.
Until now.
Because even now, over twenty-nine thousand lightyears and a century away from it’s last known position, Cardonez was looking at the USS Ranger.
Given its age, the ship looked like it was in good condition. Its refitted squared-off nacelles still throbbed with power and its whitened hull was, if not pristine, then it was pretty close to it.
Cardonez wasn’t alone in being entranced by the ship. Not a soul on the Bridge moved or spoke a word while they watched the three vessels that were just hanging there in space. A ghost sitting with two vultures.
As with so many occasions, it took Lieutenant Valian Kandro to break the silence with a thoughtful and well-assured statement. “Holy shit on a stick, would you look at that?”
And that did it. Suddenly, everyone on the Bridge started to chatter away.
“It’s been a few years since I’ve seen one so well-preserved,” said Lieutenant Commander Adam Huntington.
“I wonder if any of the crew survived,” said Lieutenant Louise Ramblin.
“We’ll be famous!,” said Pamela Tilmoore.
Kandro turned slightly in his seat. “I thought we already were?,” he asked with mock indignation.
“Quiet, everyone,” Cardonez said. The talking had broken her concentration on the ship and now she had lost her focus. “I need time to think.”
“Aye, sir,” Kandro said, swinging back to face his console and the main viewscreen.
“Commander, what’s their status?”
Huntington scanned his board. “They have their shields raised and their weapons powered up but they aren’t targeting us… yet.”
She nodded, sitting back down in her chair. “Mister Kandro, lifesigns?”
“Not many,” was the Betazoid’s reply. “I’m getting nothing from the ships on either side of her except for a small area that I can’t scan. That’s about standard for those ships.” He paused and added,” I have a similar spot on the Ranger but I’m also detecting six distinct lifeforms.”
“Can you identify them?”
“Just about,” replied Kandro. “Three of them are Humans. Two of them are Human-Chobraq hybrids and the last one,” he paused. “The last one is a Vulcan, sir.”
“Could it be an original member of the crew?,” Ramblin asked, sitting with her back to her Engineering console.
“It’s possible,” said Huntington. “Ranger did have two Vulcans assigned to it when she went missing.”
“How do you know that, sir?,” asked Tilmoore.
Huntington smiled a cockeyed smile. “You know me and tragedies,” he said. “I probably know more about that ship than I do about the Titanic.”
“The trouble is that the Titanic didn’t suddenly reappear in the South Atlantic, a hundred years later,” said Cardonez. “Hail them.”
“Hang on. I have another ship about to exit the rapid behind us.”
“They’re on a collision course!,” shouted Kandro. “Twenty seconds to impact.”
“Pam, thrusters to port!,” shouted Cardonez, clutching at her armrests. “Brace for impact!”
Tilmoore pressed her fingers down hard on the thruster controls as though every ounce of pressure that she exerted would somehow increase their speed. The young Ensign held her breath while she watched the representation of the Testudo on her console move agonizingly slowly to one side.
“Ten seconds,” said Kandro. “We’re not going to make it.”
“Blow the Shuttle Bays.”
“Five seconds,” said Kandro even while his fingers danced across his display.
Even with her thrusters pushing her to port, the Testudo was never going to avoid being hit. Luckily, blowing the Shuttle Bays gave her an extra nudge forward as the doors opened without the benefit of atmospheric integrity fields and the air within was hungrily jettisoned out into the vacuum of space.
“We made it,” Kandro said, his voice filled with surprise and relief.
“That was too close.”
Cardonez let out a sigh. “Just tell me that no one was in any of those Shuttle Bays when we did that?,” she asked, already steeling herself for the answer and already knowing that she had done the right thing. The lives of one hundred and eighty people against the lives of whoever had been in one of the bays when they had been depressurized. Still, she hoped that they had been empty.
“Just one,” said Huntington. “Crewman Lynch.”
“Damn,” she muttered, her eyes closing tight. She had lost enough people today.
“Luckily for him, he was inside one of the shuttles,” the Tactical Officer added. “The shuttle automatic systems detected the pressure drop and sealed the shuttle.”
Cardonez craned her head back to look at him. “You could have said that first,” she snapped but relief was evident on her face. “What came out after us?”
“Another one of those silver ships,” said Huntington.
Isabel turned forward once more. On the main viewscreen, a third small silver ship had joined the other two ships, taking up a position on the Ranger’s port side. “Well, it’s quite a party that we have going on here. Any sign of the Lusitania?”
“Negative,” reported Kandro. “I guess our rematch will have to wait for another day.”
“I guess so.”
“Captain,” said Huntington,” we’re being hailed by the Ranger.”
Cardonez steeled herself. “On screen.”
In an instant, the ships disappeared, only to be replaced by a familiar face.
“Blake,” she said, her lips tightening into a smile.
“Captain Cardonez,” the man on the viewscreen said, his face breaking into a smile. “What a wonderful surprise! If we had known that you were coming, we would have prepared a grander welcome.” Blake was a Human in his forties with dark brown skin and a neatly-trimmed beard. As with the last time that Cardonez had seen him, he wore a simple black jumpsuit with a single gold band looping around his right upper arm.
“What the hell are you doing on a Federation ship?,” she asked him.
He laughed. “Federation ship, Captain?,” he replied with a furrowed brow before spreading his arms out to indicate the Bridge around him. “Ranger is the flagship of the Chobraq Mutuality.”
Cardonez recognized the layout of the Bridge, much as it had been when the ship had gone missing. A couple of the consoles shone with non-Federation lights and displays. Plus the fact that Blake was alone on the Bridge, sitting in the command chair as though it was a throne, was unusual as well. As long as they had known, the enemy had access to some of the sophisticated artificial intelligences running its ships.
Now that enemy had a name.
“The Chobraq Mutuality,” she said, rolling the words off her tongue. “It almost sounds benevolent.”
“Oh, I assume you that we are, Captain,” replied Blake. “In this little corner of the Gamma Quadrant, we’re the good guys.”
“Good guys?,” Cardonez questioned him. “Your Mutuality has murdered countless Federation citizens and ensured that countless others were assimilated by the Borg. You tried to invade the homeworld of the Zelket and it’s obvious that you’re in league with Ramius Cutter, a man who is responsible for an unprovoked attack on my ship that killed three of my crew.” She stood up from her chair and half-walked the distance between the command area and the forward consoles. “I may have no jurisdiction over you but Cutter is a Federation officer. I want him handed over to me and I want a way back to the Alpha Quadrant.” Her voice was crisp and she was having trouble with keeping a tight rein on her emotions. She had to fight her anger because if she didn’t, it would boil over and endanger them all.
For a moment there, Blake looked genuinely hurt by her remarks. The moment passed by all too quickly and he laughed once more. “Captain Cardonez, I don’t think you understand the precarious nature of your position. You’re stuck thousands of lightyears away from any reinforcements. You’re outnumbered four-to-one and in a matter of minutes, another five Mutuality ships will be arriving. Added to all of this, our scans show that your ship, while operational, is still not fully repaired from your encounter with Captain Cutter.” He rubbed his hands together. “Captain, I appreciate your loss and your anger at the situation but there is no way that I can hand over a citizen of the Mutuality to you. Captain Cutter and his crew have been granted asylum here with us.” He licked his lips. “In a similar vein, I cannot direct you back to the Federation. We’re not yet ready for the Alpha Quadrant to know about our existence. I do assure you though that if you surrender, you and your crew will be treated fairly.” He smiled benignly. “Who knows? Like Ramius, you might even decide to join us.”
“Two words,” said Isabel,” and the second one is off.” She turned around and descended back towards her command chair, sitting down. “Commander, target the Ranger with phasers and quantum torpedoes.” She cast a glance down at her tactical display. It wasn’t good and she knew it. There was no way that Testudo could take on four ships in her present state. Though she would be damned if she would just meekly surrender.
“Weapons locked on target,” said Huntington. He knew that it was suicide but it wasn’t his place to counter her, not yet.
“Captain Cardonez, please,” Blake implored her. “Despite what you might think of me, I have no desire to kill you and your crew here today.”
“Why not?,” she asked him. “Are you worried about damaging my ship?”
For a split second, the mask slipped and she knew that she had hit on a home truth. Blake was a consummate actor. After all, he had fooled the inhabitants of Malthea II for several years into believing that he was just a humble administrator.
“Captain, I really would prefer to take you and your crew alive,” he said with all of the sincerity that he could muster.
Cardonez knew that he was lying. Everything that they had seen in the last year or so indicated that the enemy that they faced wanted to acquire some Federation ships for some reason. Well, they weren’t going to get the Testudo. She would scuttle her first.
“Screen off.”
As the view returned to the four ships, Huntington decided that it was the right moment. “Captain, we can’t win this fight.”
“I know,” she said, plotting evasive maneuver combinations on her display.
“Well, personally, I never wanted to end up as a POW during the war and my feelings haven’t changed much,” said Kandro. “It’s a shame that we’ll never catch up with Cutter.”
Ramblin stood and joined Huntington at the apex of the horseshoe-shaped Tactical console. “Captain,” she said,” I’ve transferred as much power as I can into the shields. It’s not much but we might be able to take a few more shots.”
“Thanks, Louise,” Cardonez said with a sad smile.
“It was a pleasure, sir,” Ramblin replied before adding a wan smile of her own. “All of it.”
“You know, they drum it into you at the Academy,” Tilmoore began, quietly,” that it’s a dangerous life in Starfleet. They give you all of the figures and statistics on death and injury rates, even before you start. They try everything to prepare. They even give you that damned Kobayashi Maru test.” She paused, looking ahead at the four ships that would shortly cause her death. “It doesn’t help though.”
That was when the Captain realized that she couldn’t go through with it. She couldn’t sentence her crew to death to satisfy her own rage.
“Captain, we’re being hailed again by the Ranger,” reported Huntington.
“This will be our last warning then,” said Kandro.
“Damn you, Sisko,” Isabel whispered under her breath. “You didn’t send us twenty-nine thousand lightyears to die. Help me out here.”
Ben Sisko didn’t reply. She didn’t expect him to. That would have been far too easy. Instead, it was her Tactical Officer who spoke next. “They’re still hailing us.”
“Patch them through,” she said. She had made her choice. It was better to surrender and live to maybe fight another day.
When the viewscreen switched views again, it wasn’t what she was expecting. Blake was still sitting in his command chair but he wasn’t conscious. His body was slumped to one side and his head hung against his shoulder. He was no longer alone on his Bridge either. Another figure stood straight and proud next to where Blake was sitting.
He wore an ubiquitous dark jumpsuit with three red bands circled around his arm. When he spoke, his voice was deep and emotionless. Greetings, Captain Cardonez,” said the aged Vulcan. “I am Commander…” He paused for a split-second. “I am Ensign Stredu of the Federation starship Ranger.”
Episode Twenty - ‘Life is But a Dream
By Jack D. Elmlinger
Prologue
For Isabel Cardonez, Captain of the starship Testudo, it was though time had frozen. There were a dozen things that she knew she should be doing but she couldn’t bring herself to do a single one of them. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from the image on the viewscreen.
The image of a ghost.
The Constitution-class starship USS Ranger had vanished almost a century before with its fate unknown. Of course, the Board of Inquiry had to report something and so they had gone for the most logical explanation. That explanation had been that the Ranger had suffered from a catastrophic event in Sector 29004 as possibly the result of one of the severe ion storms that regularly buffeted the area. It was a tragedy to be certain but it was nothing too unfamiliar in the dangerous realm of deep space exploration.
And that was it.
The Board’s report was published, the families of the Ranger’s crew mourned, each of them in their own way and their own time. The name Ranger was reassigned to the bottom of the inactive list, ready to be used again for some future starship long after the hurt and loss had faded. Starfleet had officially closed the book.
Of course, that wasn’t the end of it. In fact, that was just the beginning of the rumors and theories that would center on Sector 29004 forever after. Some of them postulated that the Ranger had met with an advanced alien race from another Galaxy who had whisked them away for experimentation purposes. Some others felt that a space-born monster had torn the ship apart with its teeth and devoured it. Then there were those whose minds turned to even more sinister ideas. That the Ranger had been testing a new super-weapon and inadvertently destroyed itself. Or that the crew had gone mad and turned on each other in an orgy of rape and murder brought on by exposure to some alien pathogen or from just plain boredom.
During the Testudo’s first voyage under her command, while on course to Malthea Two, Cardonez had perused through some of the theories that abounded about both the Ranger and about Sector 29004. There were thousands of them. That was the trouble with a society without money. Anyone could publish anything that they liked, no matter how outrageous and ensure that it reached a huge audience.
Yet, despite the Board of Inquiry, despite the theories, some of them quite serious but most of them came from the realm of science fiction, despite search after search, no trace of the Ranger had ever been found.
Until now.
Because even now, over twenty-nine thousand lightyears and a century away from it’s last known position, Cardonez was looking at the USS Ranger.
Given its age, the ship looked like it was in good condition. Its refitted squared-off nacelles still throbbed with power and its whitened hull was, if not pristine, then it was pretty close to it.
Cardonez wasn’t alone in being entranced by the ship. Not a soul on the Bridge moved or spoke a word while they watched the three vessels that were just hanging there in space. A ghost sitting with two vultures.
As with so many occasions, it took Lieutenant Valian Kandro to break the silence with a thoughtful and well-assured statement. “Holy shit on a stick, would you look at that?”
And that did it. Suddenly, everyone on the Bridge started to chatter away.
“It’s been a few years since I’ve seen one so well-preserved,” said Lieutenant Commander Adam Huntington.
“I wonder if any of the crew survived,” said Lieutenant Louise Ramblin.
“We’ll be famous!,” said Pamela Tilmoore.
Kandro turned slightly in his seat. “I thought we already were?,” he asked with mock indignation.
“Quiet, everyone,” Cardonez said. The talking had broken her concentration on the ship and now she had lost her focus. “I need time to think.”
“Aye, sir,” Kandro said, swinging back to face his console and the main viewscreen.
“Commander, what’s their status?”
Huntington scanned his board. “They have their shields raised and their weapons powered up but they aren’t targeting us… yet.”
She nodded, sitting back down in her chair. “Mister Kandro, lifesigns?”
“Not many,” was the Betazoid’s reply. “I’m getting nothing from the ships on either side of her except for a small area that I can’t scan. That’s about standard for those ships.” He paused and added,” I have a similar spot on the Ranger but I’m also detecting six distinct lifeforms.”
“Can you identify them?”
“Just about,” replied Kandro. “Three of them are Humans. Two of them are Human-Chobraq hybrids and the last one,” he paused. “The last one is a Vulcan, sir.”
“Could it be an original member of the crew?,” Ramblin asked, sitting with her back to her Engineering console.
“It’s possible,” said Huntington. “Ranger did have two Vulcans assigned to it when she went missing.”
“How do you know that, sir?,” asked Tilmoore.
Huntington smiled a cockeyed smile. “You know me and tragedies,” he said. “I probably know more about that ship than I do about the Titanic.”
“The trouble is that the Titanic didn’t suddenly reappear in the South Atlantic, a hundred years later,” said Cardonez. “Hail them.”
“Hang on. I have another ship about to exit the rapid behind us.”
“They’re on a collision course!,” shouted Kandro. “Twenty seconds to impact.”
“Pam, thrusters to port!,” shouted Cardonez, clutching at her armrests. “Brace for impact!”
Tilmoore pressed her fingers down hard on the thruster controls as though every ounce of pressure that she exerted would somehow increase their speed. The young Ensign held her breath while she watched the representation of the Testudo on her console move agonizingly slowly to one side.
“Ten seconds,” said Kandro. “We’re not going to make it.”
“Blow the Shuttle Bays.”
“Five seconds,” said Kandro even while his fingers danced across his display.
Even with her thrusters pushing her to port, the Testudo was never going to avoid being hit. Luckily, blowing the Shuttle Bays gave her an extra nudge forward as the doors opened without the benefit of atmospheric integrity fields and the air within was hungrily jettisoned out into the vacuum of space.
“We made it,” Kandro said, his voice filled with surprise and relief.
“That was too close.”
Cardonez let out a sigh. “Just tell me that no one was in any of those Shuttle Bays when we did that?,” she asked, already steeling herself for the answer and already knowing that she had done the right thing. The lives of one hundred and eighty people against the lives of whoever had been in one of the bays when they had been depressurized. Still, she hoped that they had been empty.
“Just one,” said Huntington. “Crewman Lynch.”
“Damn,” she muttered, her eyes closing tight. She had lost enough people today.
“Luckily for him, he was inside one of the shuttles,” the Tactical Officer added. “The shuttle automatic systems detected the pressure drop and sealed the shuttle.”
Cardonez craned her head back to look at him. “You could have said that first,” she snapped but relief was evident on her face. “What came out after us?”
“Another one of those silver ships,” said Huntington.
Isabel turned forward once more. On the main viewscreen, a third small silver ship had joined the other two ships, taking up a position on the Ranger’s port side. “Well, it’s quite a party that we have going on here. Any sign of the Lusitania?”
“Negative,” reported Kandro. “I guess our rematch will have to wait for another day.”
“I guess so.”
“Captain,” said Huntington,” we’re being hailed by the Ranger.”
Cardonez steeled herself. “On screen.”
In an instant, the ships disappeared, only to be replaced by a familiar face.
“Blake,” she said, her lips tightening into a smile.
“Captain Cardonez,” the man on the viewscreen said, his face breaking into a smile. “What a wonderful surprise! If we had known that you were coming, we would have prepared a grander welcome.” Blake was a Human in his forties with dark brown skin and a neatly-trimmed beard. As with the last time that Cardonez had seen him, he wore a simple black jumpsuit with a single gold band looping around his right upper arm.
“What the hell are you doing on a Federation ship?,” she asked him.
He laughed. “Federation ship, Captain?,” he replied with a furrowed brow before spreading his arms out to indicate the Bridge around him. “Ranger is the flagship of the Chobraq Mutuality.”
Cardonez recognized the layout of the Bridge, much as it had been when the ship had gone missing. A couple of the consoles shone with non-Federation lights and displays. Plus the fact that Blake was alone on the Bridge, sitting in the command chair as though it was a throne, was unusual as well. As long as they had known, the enemy had access to some of the sophisticated artificial intelligences running its ships.
Now that enemy had a name.
“The Chobraq Mutuality,” she said, rolling the words off her tongue. “It almost sounds benevolent.”
“Oh, I assume you that we are, Captain,” replied Blake. “In this little corner of the Gamma Quadrant, we’re the good guys.”
“Good guys?,” Cardonez questioned him. “Your Mutuality has murdered countless Federation citizens and ensured that countless others were assimilated by the Borg. You tried to invade the homeworld of the Zelket and it’s obvious that you’re in league with Ramius Cutter, a man who is responsible for an unprovoked attack on my ship that killed three of my crew.” She stood up from her chair and half-walked the distance between the command area and the forward consoles. “I may have no jurisdiction over you but Cutter is a Federation officer. I want him handed over to me and I want a way back to the Alpha Quadrant.” Her voice was crisp and she was having trouble with keeping a tight rein on her emotions. She had to fight her anger because if she didn’t, it would boil over and endanger them all.
For a moment there, Blake looked genuinely hurt by her remarks. The moment passed by all too quickly and he laughed once more. “Captain Cardonez, I don’t think you understand the precarious nature of your position. You’re stuck thousands of lightyears away from any reinforcements. You’re outnumbered four-to-one and in a matter of minutes, another five Mutuality ships will be arriving. Added to all of this, our scans show that your ship, while operational, is still not fully repaired from your encounter with Captain Cutter.” He rubbed his hands together. “Captain, I appreciate your loss and your anger at the situation but there is no way that I can hand over a citizen of the Mutuality to you. Captain Cutter and his crew have been granted asylum here with us.” He licked his lips. “In a similar vein, I cannot direct you back to the Federation. We’re not yet ready for the Alpha Quadrant to know about our existence. I do assure you though that if you surrender, you and your crew will be treated fairly.” He smiled benignly. “Who knows? Like Ramius, you might even decide to join us.”
“Two words,” said Isabel,” and the second one is off.” She turned around and descended back towards her command chair, sitting down. “Commander, target the Ranger with phasers and quantum torpedoes.” She cast a glance down at her tactical display. It wasn’t good and she knew it. There was no way that Testudo could take on four ships in her present state. Though she would be damned if she would just meekly surrender.
“Weapons locked on target,” said Huntington. He knew that it was suicide but it wasn’t his place to counter her, not yet.
“Captain Cardonez, please,” Blake implored her. “Despite what you might think of me, I have no desire to kill you and your crew here today.”
“Why not?,” she asked him. “Are you worried about damaging my ship?”
For a split second, the mask slipped and she knew that she had hit on a home truth. Blake was a consummate actor. After all, he had fooled the inhabitants of Malthea II for several years into believing that he was just a humble administrator.
“Captain, I really would prefer to take you and your crew alive,” he said with all of the sincerity that he could muster.
Cardonez knew that he was lying. Everything that they had seen in the last year or so indicated that the enemy that they faced wanted to acquire some Federation ships for some reason. Well, they weren’t going to get the Testudo. She would scuttle her first.
“Screen off.”
As the view returned to the four ships, Huntington decided that it was the right moment. “Captain, we can’t win this fight.”
“I know,” she said, plotting evasive maneuver combinations on her display.
“Well, personally, I never wanted to end up as a POW during the war and my feelings haven’t changed much,” said Kandro. “It’s a shame that we’ll never catch up with Cutter.”
Ramblin stood and joined Huntington at the apex of the horseshoe-shaped Tactical console. “Captain,” she said,” I’ve transferred as much power as I can into the shields. It’s not much but we might be able to take a few more shots.”
“Thanks, Louise,” Cardonez said with a sad smile.
“It was a pleasure, sir,” Ramblin replied before adding a wan smile of her own. “All of it.”
“You know, they drum it into you at the Academy,” Tilmoore began, quietly,” that it’s a dangerous life in Starfleet. They give you all of the figures and statistics on death and injury rates, even before you start. They try everything to prepare. They even give you that damned Kobayashi Maru test.” She paused, looking ahead at the four ships that would shortly cause her death. “It doesn’t help though.”
That was when the Captain realized that she couldn’t go through with it. She couldn’t sentence her crew to death to satisfy her own rage.
“Captain, we’re being hailed again by the Ranger,” reported Huntington.
“This will be our last warning then,” said Kandro.
“Damn you, Sisko,” Isabel whispered under her breath. “You didn’t send us twenty-nine thousand lightyears to die. Help me out here.”
Ben Sisko didn’t reply. She didn’t expect him to. That would have been far too easy. Instead, it was her Tactical Officer who spoke next. “They’re still hailing us.”
“Patch them through,” she said. She had made her choice. It was better to surrender and live to maybe fight another day.
When the viewscreen switched views again, it wasn’t what she was expecting. Blake was still sitting in his command chair but he wasn’t conscious. His body was slumped to one side and his head hung against his shoulder. He was no longer alone on his Bridge either. Another figure stood straight and proud next to where Blake was sitting.
He wore an ubiquitous dark jumpsuit with three red bands circled around his arm. When he spoke, his voice was deep and emotionless. Greetings, Captain Cardonez,” said the aged Vulcan. “I am Commander…” He paused for a split-second. “I am Ensign Stredu of the Federation starship Ranger.”