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Star Trek: Mjolnir - Beyond Federation Lines

Callum MacLeod

Lieutenant Commander
Red Shirt
=/\= Chapter One =/\=​

Stardate 58069.58 (March 11, 2381. 09:31 Federation Standard Starship Time.)
USS Mjolnir
Interstellar space, Sector 25712, United Federation of Planets.

“Captain’s log Stardate 58069.58,

The Mjolnir has been patrolling the border of the Romulan Neutral Zone for a month; ever since our return tae Star Station Echo from our little… outing… tae the Epsilon Vega. So far our patrol has proven uneventful; the most exciting thing we picked up on sensors was a class two comet that is moving through interstellar space. It seems that the Romulan Star Navy is keeping the flow o’ refugees fleeing the pending supernova tae a minimum. We are currently heading for the research outpost at Tarod Nine where we will check on the well being o’ the researchers there and tend tae any needs they may have before continuing on our assigned patrol route.”

Once he finished dictating his log entry Callum pressed a control on the desktop to stop the recording and file the log entry in the computer database. Once the computer had filed the log entry in its database Callum stood up and walked around the ready room desk and walked to the alcove that contained the replicator and the door that was labeled ‘Captain’s Head’. Once he reached the replicator Callum ordered a Lime pick-a-pop After the clear bottle of bubbly green liquid materialized on the replicator’s receiving platform Callum picked it up and walked to his seat at the ready room desk and sat back down. As Callum took a sip from his mug of iced Klingon coffee the ready room’s door chime sounded to signal that someone was waiting for him to give them permission to enter.

“Enter.” Callum said saying Starfleet’s standard command/invitation to let whoever was on the other side of the door know that it was okay to enter.

Seconds later the ready room door slid open with a whoosh allowing his fiancee, the ship’s human raised Orion ops officer, Lieutenant Commander Navesh Tymoshenko to sashay into the ready room wearing the mini-skirt version of the Starfleet duty uniform. Walking around the ready room desk and hopping up so she was sitting on the desktop beside Callum with her legs crossed at the ankles she sat there in the mini-skirt version of the standard uniform Navesh flashed him a broad smile as he looked up at her and placed his hand on her leg just above her bare knee.

“What can ah dae for ye, mah bonnie lass?” Callum said after taking a sip of his one major vice – Lime pick-a-pop – and setting the bottle down on the ready room desk.

“I just got off the comm with the commodore.” Navesh said referring to her father – Commodore Richard Tymoshenko – by her rank based nickname for him, “He told me to tell you he says hi and that he picked up a nice bottle of scotch for the next time we’re planet-side.”

“Tae be honest, ahm surprised that he’s taken such a liking tae me.” Callum said honest, “After all ye are his only daughter.”

“And he knows how happy you make me.” Navesh said, “Oh I almost forgot! He wanted me to tell you that he says, and I quote, ‘Hurry up and pick a date for the wedding. I’m not getting any younger and I want grandkids to spoil rotten while before the senility kicks in’.”

“Oh lordy.” Callum said with a chuckle.

“He also said; ‘if there’s someone specific you want to perform the ceremony let me know and I’ll get them for you.”.” Navesh said.

“Well, I bet he’ll be surprised when he finds out that Jim agreed tae perform the ceremony.” Callum said.

“You heard back!” Navesh squealed excitedly, “He agreed?!”

“Aye, lass he did.” Callum explained, “He said, and I quote, ‘It’d be my pleasure’.”

"I'm not sure what will surprise him more, That THE Captain Kirk is alive or that he's performing our wedding ceremony." Navesh said

Before Callum could say anything his combadge chirped to indicate that he had an incoming hail waiting for him. Flashing an apologetic look at Navesh as he reached for his combadge Callum tapped it to open the comm-link before speaking.

“MacLeod here. Go ahead.” Callum said after tapping his combadge.

“Commander Rel here, Captain. We’re approaching Torad Nine.” Damrus’s disembodied voice said coming from Callum’s combadge.

“Can ah assume that ye’ve already contacted the outpost, Commander?” Callum said.

“You can, sir.” Damrus replied, “We’ve dropped to sub-light and have been assigned a priority flight path for immediate entry into the flight control zone so we can enter the our assigned orbit. Also, Lieutenant Washbourne has requested permission to link up with the SI relay that is apparently on Tarod Nine to update his intelligence database.”

“I’ve said it before and ahm sure ah’ll say it again… ye are just too damned efficient, Commander. Tell the Lieutenant tae go ahead with his link-up. Ah’ll be right there.” Callum said.

“Aye, sir. Rel out.” Damrus’s disembodied voice said before the comm-link quietly clicked closed after Damrus finished speaking.

“Sorry mah love, duty calls.” Callum said.

“It’s alright.” Navesh said hiding the disappointment she was feeling.

Turning from Callum and walking around the ready room desk Navesh led the way past the blue octagon of the ready room’s holo-communicator and onto the bridge. Passing by the helm and ops stations Callum walked towards the captain’s chair as he watched Damrus stand up and step away from the center seat.

“Report, Commander Rel,” MacLeod’s voice rumbled, the thick Scottish brogue settling in the air like a light mist.

“All systems nominal, Captain,” Commander Damrus Rel replied. His voice was a melodic baritone, lacking the harshness of some of the other species aboard the bridge, “We are on final approach to Tarod Nine. The outpost is broadcasting standard Federation identification codes. Their systems are fully operational, though they report a recent… anomaly in long range subspace scans.”

Lieutenant Vhela, a barzan with the almost granite stillness of her people, was already working at her console said, “The anomaly appears localized to a small area of space. It looks to be some sort of subspace distortions."

A low growl emanated from the tactical station. Lieutenant Gratakka, the hulking Nausicaan, leaned forward, his scarred face grim. “Could it be Romulan tech? They DO like to play their games near the border.”

Callum stroked his five o’clock shadow beard. “Possibility, Lieutenant. But we dinnae want tae jump tae conclusions. Mister. Washbourne, what does Starfleet Intelligence have on unusual subspace anomalies in this sector?”

Lieutenant Malcolm Washbourne, a man who always seemed slightly out of place on the ship and who was hiding the secret of his genetic augmentation, tapped at his console. “Nothing specific, Captain, though we do have records of similar, less pronounced anomalies dating back several centuries. They are usually short-lived, and rarely last more than a couple hours.”

After a moment Nerah spoke up from the helm, “We are now in orbit of Tarod Nine, Captain.”

“We are being hailed by the outpost, Captain.” Damrus said after sitting down at the first officer and communications station and once Nerah finished speaking.

“On screen, Commander” Callum ordered as he tapped on the inside of the command chair’s right side hand rest with his thumb and turned to face the over-sized viewscreen on the forward bulkhead.

Seconds later the viewscreen at the front of the Mjolnir’s bridge was filled with the image of a Benzite Starfleet officer with commander’s pips on the collar of his red undershirt and the typical breather that Benzites wore in standard class M atmospheres to add the elements that their physiology required that weren’t normally present in class M atmospheres. With a smile on his face that was partially obscured by his catfish-like whiskers he began speaking.

“I am Commander Jalesh, the commanding officer of the Torad Nine outpost. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?” The Benzite asked.

“Ahm Captain Callum MacLeod.” Callum said standing up and standing in front of his Mark VII command chair, “How can we be o’ assistance?”

“My medical officer has a submitted a wish list of medicines that he was hoping that you’d be able fulfil. We’d replicate them here but we don’t have the replicator patterns for them and even if we did our replicators are too old and aren’t capable of the necessary resolution to replicate them.” Commander Jalesh said.

“Send your wish list to us and we’ll see what we can dae. Ah dinnae make any promises though, after all we’re an escort ship nar a hospital ship.” Callum said, “Is there anything else we can help ye with?”

“To be honest, yes. My chief engineer is having some difficulties with our long range sensor array and was hoping that you could assist.” Commander Jalesh said.

“Ah’ll have mah chief engineer beam down tae see what he can dae tae help ye oot. Anything else?” Callum asked.

“No, sir.” Commander Jalesh replied.

“Mah ex-oh will reach oot tae ye once we’ve discussed the situation with my chief engineer and figured oot when he can beam down. Mjolnir out.” Callum said.

Once the viewscreen changed to the image of orbital space around Tarod IX Callum turned to face Damrus at the first officer and communications station and said, “Ye have the bridge, Commander. Please see tae the necessary arrangements, Ah’ll be in mah ready room.”

“Aye, sir.” Damrus said acknowledging Callum’s order standing up so he could assume the center seat as Callum began to cross the bridge as he headed for the ready room.

Walking across the bridge past the helm and ops stations Callum walked into the ship’s ready room. As the ready room doors whooshed closed behind him Callum walked over to the replicator and ordered a lime pick-a-pop materialized on the replicator’s receiving platform Callum picked it up and walked towards the ready room desk and walked around the desk once he had reached it Callum sat down in the seat behind the desk.

As Callum sat down in his seat the door chime sounded signaling that someone was waiting for him to give them permission to enter the ready room. Looking at the door Callum wondered who was wanting to come in as he wasn’t expecting anyone.

“Enter.” Callum said saying Starfleet’s standard command/invitation to let whoever was on the other side of the door know that it was okay to enter.

Seconds later the ready room door slid open with a whoosh allowing the ship’s joined Trill counselor, Lieutenant Reyna Vyn, to walk into the ready room. As she walked up to the desk Callum spoke.

“What can ah dae for ye, Lieutenant?” Callum asked looking at the counselor.

“I was hoping that I could speak to the personnel on the outpost. I feel that I should do a basic psychological assessment on the station personnel. They have been assigned to the outpost without the benefit of a counselor and with very limited recreational activities” Reyna said.

“It makes sense when ye put it like that, Lieutenant.” Callum said, “Tell Commander Rel that ah told ye tae speak tae him about making the arrangements.”

“Yes, sir. Thank-you.” Reyna replied.

“No, thank-you.” Callum said with a grin on his face. Continuing on he said, “Was there anything else that ah can dae for ye?”

“No, sir.” Reyna replied.

“In that case ye can consider yourself dismissed, Lieutenant.” Callum said.

“Aye, sir.” Reyna said before turning and heading for the ready room door.

As the ready room door whooshed open allowing Reyna to leave the ready room Callum spoke to the computer saying, “Computer, compile a report on the current political status of the Romulan Star Empire.”

“Requested function will require a link up with Starbase Twenty-Three’s astro-political computer database.” The standard Starfleet computer voice replied.

“Understood, initiate uplink and compile the report. Authorization MacLeod alpha nine-one-eight-two-baker.” Callum said to the computer.

A moment later the computer voice said, “Uplink established. Compiling report. Requested function will require ten standard minutes to complete.”

“Understood.” Callum said to the computer.

Picking up the clear bottle Callum took a long sip of his favorite drink enjoying the taste. Putting the bottle down Callum turned to look at the viewscreen on the bulkhead behind the desk and the image of the Scottish highlands it was displaying and began thinking of home and what he would want to show to Navesh when they were next in the neighborhood either on leave or an assignment.

“Report compiled.” The computer voice ten minutes later snapping Callum out of his reverie.

“Understood. Terminate uplink and put it on screen on my monitor.” Callum said ordered the computer as he turned to face the desktop monitor.
 
=/\= Chapter Two =/\=​

Stardate 58070.03 (March 11, 2381. 13:31 Federation Standard Starship Time.)
USS Mjolnir
Interstellar space, Sector 25712, United Federation of Planets.

As he sat behind his ready room desk Callum’s combadge chirped to indicate that he had an incoming hail waiting for him.

“MacLeod here. Go ahead.” Callum said after tapping his combadge.

“Commander Rel here, Captain. We’re picking up an anomaly, and it’s… A Romulan signature, crossing the Neutral Zone, heading straight towards Torad Nine.” Damrus’s disembodied voice reported.

“Ah’ll be there right away. MacLeod out.” Callum said before tapping his combadge to close the comm-link.

As the comm-link clicked closed Callum stood up and walked out of his ready room onto the bridge and said, “Analysis, Commander Tymoshenko?”

“It’s a Romulan vessel, Captain. A relatively small transport The vessel is of an older design, Captain.… I’m detecting a significant number of life signs onboard, far exceeding what would be a standard crew.” Navesh replied reviewing the readouts on her console.

Lieutenant Gratakka, the Nausicaan tactical officer, leaned forward, his gruff voice a growl. “Sounds like trouble, Captain. Should we prepare for a fight?”

MacLeod considered this for a moment. “Hold yer fire, Gratakka. Something’s nae right here. Tactical analysis.”

“Their shields are minimal; almost non-existent. They’re heading straight for Torad Nine.” Gratakka said, with a predatory glint in his eyes, speaking in a low growl.

“They are refugees, Captain.” Damrus stated, his voice softening, Their transponders are broadcasting a distress signal claiming refugee status.”

A hush fell over the bridge. Gratakka, who had been tinkering with his console, paused, ears perked in interest.

“All stations, prepare for immediate departure,” Callum announced, his voice now carrying a weight of grim determination.

“Helm, lay in a course to intercept an engage at maximum warp as soon as possible. Commander Rel, send a message tae Star Station Echo requesting back up. Tell Admiral Bateson ah would be extra appreciative if he could send the Bluefin.”

“Aye, Captain,” Nerah responded, his hands flying across the console. The Mjolnir gracefully banked out of orbit of the barren rock known as Torad Nine and surged forward, a spark of light against the backdrop of the vast blackness of space.

As the Mjolnir accelerated, MacLeod activated the comm system. “Commander Gorsach, this is the Captain. Prep the transporter rooms and ensure our auxiliary power is stable. Doctor Pax, stand by to receive a substantial number of patients.”

“Ensign Collins,” Callum acknowledged the young human woman sitting at the Alpha shift relief station, her face etched with a mix of apprehension and determination, “Keep an eye on all ship systems for any unusual activity.”
 
=/\= Chapter Three =/\=​
Stardate 58070.11 (March 11, 2381. 14:14 Federation Standard Starship Time.)
IRV Sa’Voras
Interstellar space, Sector 25712, Romulan Neutral Zone

The warp engines thrummed, a low, anxious song that vibrated through the old hull of the IRV Sa’Voras. The ship was far from pristine. It was a patchwork of desperate modifications, a testament to the resourcefulness of the Romulan engineers that had made her operational. The ship groaned as it moved, its aged hull protesting the strain the barely operative and barely stable warp drive placed on it. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of poorly recycled oxygen from an overworked life support system that was providing air, light, and gravity for a far too precious cargo of Romulan refugees. Commander Tal’Rha, a woman etched with the lines of too many battles and far too much loss, gripped the railing of the bridge. Her face, usually a mask of stoic command, was drawn and tired. The warp engine’s power was marginal; they were pushing it to its limits, gambling on reaching Federation space before the inevitable.

“Status?” she asked, her voice raspy.

“Engines are holding, Commander,” replied Centurion S’Lann, a young officer whose eyes, despite his youthful visage, held the same weariness as her own, “But the strain… it’s immense. We’re pushing them well past recommended tolerances.”

“Keep an eye on the systems. If they give out we’re dead in the water and everything will have been for nothing.” Tal’Rha replied.

“Yes, Commander.” S’Lann replied grimly.
 
=/\= Chapter Four =/\=
Stardate 58070.3 (March 11, 2381. 15:51 Federation Standard Starship Time.)
USS Mjolnir on course to intercept the IRV Sa’Voras
Interstellar space, Sector 25712, United Federation of Planets.

“Open hailing frequencies, Commander.” Callum ordered in his thick Scottish brogue.

“Aye, sir.” Damrus said. After a second he looked up from his console and said, “The Romulan vessel is responding.”

“Visual?” Callum asked.

“Aye, sir. They just entered visual range.” Damrus replied.

"On screen, Commander" Callum ordered as he tapped on the inside of the command chair’s right side hand rest with his thumb.

Seconds later the viewscreen at the front of the Mjolnir’s bridge was filled viewscreen with a two dimensional holographic image of a shapely olive skinned Romulan woman with dark hair and an aristocratic look to her in Romulan Star Navy uniform sitting in the center seat of the Romulan ship’s bridge. Standing up and drawing himself to his full height Callum began speaking as he assumed that the woman was from Romulus’ southern continent given her lack of cranial ridges which gave her a very Vulcan-esque appearance.

“Ahm Captain Callum MacLeod o’ the USS Mjolnir. Ye have entered an’ crossed the neutral zone on course tae a Federation world, explain your actions.” Callum said in a firm tone.

“I am Commander Tal’Rha, in command of the IRV Sa’Voras. We are carrying civilians and requesting refugee status in the Federation. I’m sure you’ve heard about the impeding supernova.”

“Aye, ah have Commander. Callum said, “Continue on course, Commander. Ensure your weapon systems remain off line an’ your shields remain down and dinnae make any aggressive moves. Once we meet up an away team from mah ship will beam o’er tae yours tae assess your immediate needs before we continue on tae Torad Nine.”

After looking off screen for a moment and nodding her head Tal’Rha said, “We are a barely operational freighter, captain. We couldn’t be aggressive even if we wanted to. Sa’Voras out”

As the viewscreen reverted to the image of space in front of the Mjolnir Callum turned to face Damrus and said, "You have the bridge, Commander. I'll be in my ready room. Take us tae yellow alert an’ get Sector command on the comm an route them tae mah ready room."

"Aye, sir." Damrus said acknowledging Callum's order and standing up so he could assume the center seat.
 
=/\= Chapter Five =/\=
Stardate 58070.11 (March 11, 2381. 14:14 Federation Standard Starship Time.)
USS Mjolnir
Interstellar Space, Sector 25712, United Federation of Planets

“We are holding position five kilometers from the Sa’Voras” Nerah reported from the helm hours later.

“Understood.” Callum said, “Commander Tymoshenko monitor for any other Romulan ships. Ah dinnae want ta be surprised.”

“Aye, sir.” The musical voice of the emerald skinned operations officer said as she began tapping commands into the Ops station.

Turning to look at Damrus sitting at the XO/Communications station behind him and to his right Callum said, "Prepare a medical team for boarding. Ah will lead the away team personally."

“Captain, with all due respect.” Damrus started to object.

“Ah ken what ye are going tae say, Commander. Mah place is on the bridge.” Callum said, “And ye are right, but ah am going anyway. BUT ah’ll take Lieutenant Gratakka with me. Does that satisfy your concern for mah safety?”

“Yes, sir. As long as he’s armed with at least a type two phaser.” Damrus replied negotiating with his captain.

“Deal.” Callum said with a chuckle. Looking at Gratakka as he stood up Callum said, “Ye are with me, Lieutenant.”

As Callum and Gratakka headed towards the turbolift Callum looked at Dorian at her station in the alcove at the rear of the bridge and said, “Are ye up for some away team duty, Ensign?”

“Yes, sir!” Dorian said excitedly as he hurried to join them.
=/\=​
The transporter hummed, a familiar vibration that normally soothed Callum, but today prickled with a nervous energy. He glanced at his team: Ensign Dorian Collins, her bright eyes a stark contrast to the apprehension tightening her jaw; her wife, Dr. Melina Pax, calm and composed as always, her medical tricorder held loosely in her hand; and Lieutenant Gratakka, the Nausicaan security chief, his scarred face a mask of professional stoicism, his pulse phaser pistol holstered but ready.

The air was thick with the scent of ozone and desperation. The makeshift lighting flickered, casting long, distorted shadows across the cramped corridor. The Romulan architecture, designed for elegance and power, was now marred by hastily added conduits and patched panels.

"Fascinating," Dorian whispered, her hand hovering over a frayed tapestry depicting a stylized Romulan bird of prey. Her love for history, even the dark kind, often surprised Callum.

"Less fascinating, more concerning," Gratakka growled, his eyes scanning the corridor. A group of weary-looking Romulans huddled nearby, their expressions a mixture of suspicion and hope.

Melina moved to the closest group, her hands raised in a gesture of peace. “We are from the Federation starship Mjolnir. We are here to help.” Her Rhiansu was passable, but her warm tone transcended any linguistic barriers.

The Romulans eyed her warily, some reaching for concealed weapons. A tall Romulan with a severe scar tracing his left cheek stepped forward.

“I am Sub-Lieutenant Silek.” His voice was sharp, laced with a distrust that Callum understood.

“Captain Callum MacLeod, at your service, Commander,” Callum replied smoothly, extending his hand. Silek looked at it for a long moment before reluctantly shaking it, the grip surprisingly firm.

“We appreciate your offer of assistance, Captain,” Silek said, his tone still guarded. “But we are not used to charity. Our pride…it is a difficult thing to shed. We had to leave everything behind so we could fit as many people onboard as possible. We have almost nothing in the way of supplies. Even with just replicating basic rations we still weren’t able to replicate everything we needed before our replicators went offline.”

“We understand, Commander,” Callum replied. “This is not about charity. It’s about survival. We are here to offer medical aid and any other support we can provide.”

The Sa’Voras, as they soon discovered, was a chaotic microcosm of the larger Romulan diaspora. Injuries were rampant, from burns sustained during the evacuation to infections that had festered in the cramped conditions. The Sa’Voras was a desperate patchwork of faded metal and jury-rigged systems. Refugees, Romulans of all ages, were huddled together, their faces etched with worry and fear. The impending supernova of their sun was a shadow that loomed over them all, a constant reminder of the home they were losing. Melina and her medical team, aided by Dorian’s quick thinking and organizational skills, worked tirelessly, setting up a makeshift triage station in a cavernous cargo bay. Meanwhile, Gratakka and his team of security officers, including some volunteered Romulans, kept a watchful eye, preventing any potential flare-ups.

“Ahm Captain MacLeod o’ the Federation Starship Mjolnir,” MacLeod responded, his tone respectful. “We are here tae assist ye.”

MacLeod nodded, his heart aching for the refugees. "We will tend tae your people. We’ll treat anyone who needs medical attention. Whoever we can treat here we will. With permission we’ll transport the worst oof tae the Mjolnir."

“Thank you.” Silek said the exhaustion obvious in his voice and on his face.

He looked to his medical team, who began moving among the Romulans, their hyposprays humming with life-saving medication and nutritional supplement injections. There were young children, old men, and women, all looking dazed and exhausted. The next few hours were a blur of activity. The Starfleet team, working tirelessly alongside the exhausted Romulan medical staff, stabilized the critically injured, treated dehydration, and soothed frayed nerves. Dorian used her engineering skills to jury-rig one of the replicators so the Romulans could replicate food and medicine, while Gratakka’s imposing presence provided a sense of security, his pulse pistol never left its holster on his hip, but always a silent promise of protection.

Callum, meanwhile, tried to coordinate with the ship’s CO, Commander Tal’Rha. The woman's eyes were filled with the ghosts of past failures and present fears. He spoke of the long journey, the dwindling supplies, and the ever-present horror of their sun’s impending death. As the hours wore on, a fragile trust began to bloom. A young Romulan child, initially clinging to his mother's leg, offered Melina a small, intricately folded paper crane. It was a gesture that spoke volumes about the fear and resilience of these refugees. Dorian, usually focused on the technical, found herself caught by the story of an old Romulan farmer, his hands gnarled and calloused, describing the beauty of his home planet, now destined to be consumed by fire. His voice broke with a quiet sorrow.

Eventually everyone had been tended to and, miraculously no one was severe enough to need to be beamed over to the Mjolnir for treatment. Once Callum had conferred with Commander Tal’Rha on how to proceed the away team returned to the Mjolnir which then proceeded to escort the Sa’Voras to Torad Nine as his reports raced through subspace from point to point prompting conversations and other communications.
 
I sure hope Methos shows up! But Duncan must have died of old age a few centuries earlier after he made it to the Source and became mortal.
 
I sure hope Methos shows up!
Peter Wingfield was actually one of the actors I was thinking of for Lieutenant Malcolm Washbourne before I settled on Alexis Denisoff

Actually it was Conner that was the inspiration for the last name. Callum's call sign at the academy was actually "Highlander" (my way of doing a nod to the Highlander franchise). & In my mind the Suliban named Shelin in the 1st few stories was played by Clancy Brown
 
=/\= Chapter Six =/\=
Stardate 58193.37 (March 12, 2381. 13:57 Federation Standard Starship Time.)
USS Mjolnir
Tarod System, Sector 25712, United Federation of Planets

As Callum sat in his ready room reading from a large PADD his combadge chirped signaling that someone was trying to reach him. Putting the PADD into sleep mode and setting it on the desktop Callum tapped the combadge on his chest to open the channel.

“MacLeod, go ahead.” He said after tapping the combadge.

“Captain, We are receiving a priority one communique from sector command. According to the identification data it is from Admiral Blackwell. She wants to speak with you personally.” Damrus’ disembodied voice reported.

“Route it here, Commander.” Callum ordered.

“Aye, sir. Coming through right away.” Damrus replied.

As the comm-link quietly clicked closed Callum turned to face the desktop monitor and pressed the control on the desktop to wake it up from its power save mode and cause it to rise out of the desktop. Once it was in place Callum pressed the accept button on the touch screen causing the monitor to spring to life with the real time image of Admiral Margaret Blackwell.

“Tae what do ah owe the pleasure, Admiral.” Callum said looking at the desktop monitor.

“We’ve got new mission for you beyond Federation lines. I’ll transmit the specifics, but in brief We’re reassigning your patrol duties to the Intrepid so you can head for the Ceti Tolcan system and sending the Bluefin to Torad Nine to escort the Sa’Voras to the designated resettlement site that has been set up on Vashti. Long range scans have detected some unusual readings that Command wants investigated ASAP.” Blackwell explained.

“We’ll get underway right away.” Callum replied

“Very good, Captain. Blackwell out.” Blackwell said before she closed the communications channel which caused the monitor to display ‘FILE AVAILABLE FOR REVIEW’ and a pair of buttons beneath it that said ‘REVIEW’ and ‘DISMISS’.

Tapping his combadge Callum said, “MacLeod tae Rel.”

“Rel here.” Damrus’ disembodied voice replied from the combadge on Callum’s chest.

“We’ve received orders from Admiral Blackwell. Recall any personnel that are on the surface and prepare tae get underway.” Callum ordered.

“Aye, sir. Do you want me to assemble the senior staff for a mission briefing?” Damrus asked.

“Aye, Commander ah dae.” Callum said, “In the conference room in twenty minutes. Macleod oot.”
=/\=​
Walking through the door marked ‘Conference Room’ Callum walked over the empty seat at the end of the long rectangular conference table. As Callum walked into the conference room Damrus, Prolasch, Gratakka, Reyna, Nerah, Vhela, Navesh, and Melina all began to stand up.

“As ye were.” Callum said as he walked to the head of the table And sat down in his usual seat.

Callum tapped a control on the table in front of him causing the computer to create a three dimensional holographic image of a solar system to appear above the conference table.

“This is the Ceti Toclan system.” Callum said looking at the holographic solar system hovering above the conference table. Continuing on he said, “Its an located in neutral space just beyond the Federation border in sector 25714. We’ve been ordered tae break orbit an’ head there tae investigate some unusual sensor readings that Command wants investigated.”

“What about the Sa’Voras?” Reyna asked.

“The Bluefin has been dispatched tae escort them to a ‘designated resettlement site’ on Vashti. The Intrepid is being assigned tae take o’er our patrol duties.” Callum explained.

“So, they finally figured out what rock they’re going to dump the pointy eared hobgoblins on.” Gratakka grumbled.

“Due tae the increasing amount o' Romulans crossing the zone claiming redugee status they have chosen a resettlement site, yes.” Callum said chastising Gratakka.

Continuing on he asked, “Does anyone have any other questions.”

When no one spoke up Callum continued on saying, “In that case you can all consider yourselves dismissed. Commander Rel, please assume command of the bridge until I return and get us underway.”

“Aye, sir.” Damrus replied as he prepared to push back the seat he was sitting in and stand up.
 
=/\= Chapter Seven =/\=​

Stardate 58203.9 (March 16, 2381. 10:10 Federation Standard Starship Time.)
USS Mjolnir
Ceti Tolcan System, Sector 25714, Neutral Spaces

The bridge of the USS Mjolnir hummed with the low thrum of regulated power, a familiar symphony to Callum as he surveyed his bridge crew, a kaleidoscope of species each deeply entrenched in their duties. The tactical map on the viewscreen showed the Ceti Tolcan system, an unremarkable and – as far as anyone knew – an uninhabited system in neutral space.

"Report, Lieutenant Nerah," MacLeod said, his voice a low rumble that cut through the hum.

"We’ve dropped out of warp and are on final approach to Ceti Tolcan Three." Nerah, the Bajoran helmsman replied, his dark eyes focused on the forward viewscreen.

"Sensors have located the source of the unusual readings." Navesh said from Ops.

"On screen, Commander Rel." Callum ordered.

As they approached the planet, the viewscreen displayed the source of the anomaly: a huge, jagged wreck, half-buried in the ochre soil - a Borg cube. Or rather, what was left of one. It looked like a colossal metal cube had been thrown against the planet, its once-imposing structure now a mangled ruin.

A gasp escaped Dorian’s lips from one of the auxiliary control station in the alove at the aft section of the bridge her eyes wide. Even Gratakka, the Nausicaan chief tactical officer, usually reserved and grim, shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his tusks slightly flared.

Callum’s mind raced. A Borg cube, this decimated, was a terrifying anomaly.

“Lieutenant Washbourne,” he addressed the intelligence officer, “Any intel on recent Borg activity?”

Lieutenant Malcolm Washbourne, his face etched with a mixture of intrigue and worry, shook his head. “Negative, Captain. S.I. has had no report of even the slightest indication of Borg activity since shortly after Voyager's return."

"Commander Tymoshenko," Callum spoke to his fiancée, "What are ye reading?"

"There’s significant interference in the atmosphere. The transporters won’t be able to cut through it. As for the Borg ship, its internal structure is...a mess," Navesh replied, "Massive structural damage. Based on the damage it must’ve hit the surface atlest at half impulse."

Callum stood and approached the viewscreen, studying the wreckage. He turned to his crew, his gaze sweeping over each of them, “Commander Rel, take a shuttle down tae the surface an see what is goin’ on down there.”

“Aye, sir.” Damrus replied. Looking from Navesh to Gratakka and then Nerah he continued on saying, “Commander Tymoshenko, Lieutenants Nerah and Gratakka, you’re with me.”

“Aye, sir.” Navesh replied before she stood up.

“Aye, sir.” Navesh replied standing up and turning from the helm once Navesh finished speaking.

“Ensign Collins, please contact Commander Gorsach and Doctor Pax and have them meet us in the shuttlebay.” Damrus ordered, “And have the shuttlebay prep the Honah Lee for launch.”
=/\=​
Moments later Damrus, Nerah, Gratakka and Navesh walked through the heavy set double door into the Mjolnir’s shuttlebay and saw Rah, Gratakka, Melina and the shuttlebay manager Chief Petty Officer Shiraht Pol standing next to one of the ship’s shuttlebay crew had readied the ship’s Flyer class, that bore the name Honah Lee on its side, for launch. Walking over to the shuttle with Nerah and Navesh following behind him Damrus looked at the non-commissioned Monchezkin Chief Petty Officer and began speaking.

“Chief Pol, is she ready to go?” Damrus asked as he looked at the Monchezkin non-comm.

“Fully loaded and equipped, Commander.” Shiraht replied. Continuing on the non-commissioned chief petty officer said, “I double checked it myself.”

Patting the side of the shuttle as Shiraht walked away from the group to head to the shuttlebay’s control booth Damrus said, “Alright, everyone aboard! This sheeznerak is flying the baudivox!”

Hearing that Nerah, Melina, Rah, Navesh and Gratakka followed Damrus as he walked up the Honah Lee’s gang plank and sat down in the available seats as the master chief petty officer Pol’s voice called for everyone to clear the flight deck while the gang plank rose into place. Nerah took the pilot’s seat, Damrus took the operations/co-pilot’s seat, while Melina and Navesh sat across from Gratakka and Prolasch on the benches that ran along the sides of the shuttle’s aft section. Under Nerah’s guidance the Honah Lee rose from the deck, using its anti-gravity thrusters, until it was two feet from the deck. Seconds later the atmospheric containment field activated and the shuttlebay doors began to retract into their housing.

Minutes later the Honah Lee landed as gently as a feather at the landing site ten meters away from what was left of the facility on the planetoid’s surface. Looking at the various displays on the pilot’s console Nerah verified the stability of the terrain at the landing and site began tapping in commands that caused the shuttle’s engines to switch to standby mode.

Addressing the away team as he stood up and stepped away from the operations and copilot’s station Damrus said, “Alright, people gear up – phasers, wrist beacons and tricorders – its time to get going.”

Moments later the aft gangplank lowered until it was touching the ground and Damrus walked out followed by Nerah, Navesh, Gratakka, Prolasch and Melina. Looking around Damrus saw that the terrain in the area transitioned from lightly forested to open plains covered with pale teal grass below a lilac colored sky streaked with wispy white clouds. Pulling his Mark X TR-590 tricorder from its holster on his right hip Damrus opened it with a flip of his wrist. After a quick tricorder scan to confirm what his eyes told and to get a directional bearing to take them to the source of the unusual sensor readings that they had detected.

Putting the tricorder back in its holster Damrus pointed ahead of them and said, “Alright, lets move out.”

After ten minutes of walking the away team reached the crest of a hill and saw what looked like a three sided pyramid composed entirely of black and dark grey conduits emerging from the ground at an odd angle.

“Sensor readings, Commander Tymoshenko?” Damrus asked as the away team looked at the Borg wreck.

"Its definitely a Borg ship. Well, what’s left of one at any rate. No sign of survivors, but the interference could be preventing us from detecting any lifesigns if there is any.” Navesh said as she probed the shipwreck with low powered sensor scans from her Mark X TR-590 tricorder.

After a moment’s silence she continued on saying, “I’m picking up some low level power signs from the wreckage. Its almost like someone’s siphoning the remaining power left in that wreck, but the readings are far from conclusive. The only way to be certain would be to go inside it and trace the power drain manually.” Navesh reported.

“Can you locate us an entrance or do we need to make one of our own?” Damrus asked.

“As much fun as Lieutenant Gratakka would have blowing a hole in that, there’s a large opening into the interior at ground level ahead and three meters to our right.” Navesh said consulting the screen of her tricorder after adjusting a couple controls and acknowledging the Nausicaan tactical officer’s well known love of both munitions and explosions.

“Really?” Gratakka said jokingly, “You couldn’t’ve let me have my fun? I so rarely get to blow things up.”

After chuckling at Gratakka’s comment Damrus said, “Phasers at the ready, we’re heading in single file formation. Keep your eyes, ears and any other helpful senses open. I’ve got point, Lieutenant Gratakka you’ve got our backs. The rest of you please fall in between myself and Mister Gratakka. Please start scanning for the power source, Commander Tymoshenko. The sooner we figure out what’s going on here the sooner we can get back to the ship.”

“Aye, sir.” Navesh said with a nod before she holstered her phaser and pulled out her tricorder and began scanning.

As Navesh scanned the Borg wreck with her tricorder the light from the away team's wrist beacons flashed about in the darkness, illuminating the gray and black equipment racks and slotted Borg alcoves that lined the walls that seamed to stretch out into infinity. Several corridors branched off from where the away team stood; some leading down and some leading up thanks to the angle of impact.

After a few moments, as Navesh continued to look at the display on her tricorder she said, “Is anybody else finding this whole thing as fascinating as I am?”

“Fascinating?” Damrus asked.

"We came here to investigate some unusual sensor readings and we found a crashed Borg cube that’s been here for who knows how long.” Navesh explained, “How many people get a chance to explore one of their greatest enemies ships in relative safety?"
"Everyone keep your eyes open everyone, you never know what we may come across.” Damrus said.

"Commander, I’ve located our power source. It’s the next level down and about two hundred and fifty meters that way.” Navesh said shining the light from her wrist beacon down a corridor to their left that led down because of the angle that the wreckage was sitting at.

As the away team moved deeper into the ship, the away team saw more and more Borg corpses, and it suited her just fine that they were all long-dead. The bodies were no more than implant-festooned skeletons. Some were slumped in the alcoves where they’d died, probably oblivious to their own deaths, while others lay on the deck, their bones scattered like fallen branches in a forest. It was disheartening to think that it had taken death to free these people from the grip of the collective. After a few minutes of walking the away team came to a spot in the corridor where the deck had collapsed to the onto the deck below. After each member of the away team had carefully climbed down the debris to the lower level they began moving forward again in an attempt to locate who or what was siphoning the power from the wreckage. Moments after the away team passed a series of regeneration alcoves each containing what was left of a Borg corpse in them a tremendous clatter suddenly echoed off of the bulkheads behind the group as the entire away team turned and Gratakka brought his phaser to bear on the disturbance. As her heartbeat thundered within her chest Navesh's wrist beacon illuminated the skeletal remains of one of the Borg drones laying on the deck with wisps of dust and silky cobwebs drifting around it. Panning the light from her wrist beacon her light upward to an empty alcove Navesh saw that the vibrations from their passage must’ve caused the skeleton to shift into a position where it could no longer able to support itself which caused it to fall to the deck behind them.

“Holy crap that scared the hell out of me.” Navesh said aloud as the dust from the Borg corpse began to settle to the deck.

“Are we almost there?” Damrus asked to redirect Navesh’s attention.

Looking at the display on her tricorder Navesh said, “Almost, sir.”

“Alright people, lets keep going. The sooner we figure out what’s going on here the sooner we can get out of this tomb and back to our comfortable, well lit and Borg free ship.” Damrus said, his voice echoing off of the bulkheads.

When the away team finally reached the power source, Navesh's tricorder scans revealed that they were actually situated about twenty feet below ground level due to the tilt of the ship where it lay embedded in the earth. Seeing the faintly glowing power node with a makeshift cable running from the auxiliary port on the node to the deck and down the dark corridor.

"Any sign of who might have done this?” Damrus asked.

"Its such a frelling hack job that its impossible to tell, Commander. My grandmother’s pet yarliq could’ve done a better job.” The Tellerite engineer replied.

“Can you trace where the power is going?” Damrus asked.

“It seems to be going underground.” Prolasch said after checking his tricorder, “But I can’t tell you more than that thanks to the kelbonite and the fistrium deposits in the area.”

“Looks like we’re keeping going, people.” Damrus said, “You’ve got point Commander.”
“Aye, sir.” Prolasch said before he began walking down one of the corridors that led off the room.

Eventually, the conduits led them to a spot where the earth had hemorrhaged through the ship and a near-vertical shaft led down into darkness. A small section of grating lay near the opening, Leading Damrus to believe that someone had intended to use it to hide the shaft but had forgotten to pull it over the opening.

"Lieutenant Gratakka, you have point. I'm second. Commander Gorsach you're third, Doctor Pax you're fourth, Commander Tymoshenko is fifth, Lieutenant Nerah you've got our backs. We're going in." Damrus said.

"Aye, sir." The burly Nausicaan said before pushing the grating aside and shining his light into the hole.

Seeing that it was the end of a tunnel Gratakka stepped cautiously through the tunnel beneath the Borg cube and led his shipmates into the unknown. The air in the tunnel was cool and moist and the scent of dirt that had been evident within the cube was stronger here because the tunnel was carved right out of the earth. Gratakka kept his eyes constantly on the move, scanning the ceiling and floor for any surprises while maintaining an attentive sight on the path ahead. At one point the slope of the path dipped sharply, and the top of the passage dropped in height, forcing Gratakka to crouch low to keep from brushing the ceiling. He glanced back to make sure the others were progressing without difficulty, then continued forward, his feet braced sturdily to prevent slippage. After a few moments the passage opened into a vast cavern, illuminated by glowing fungi that painted the walls in hues of emerald and sapphire. And there, in the heart of the cavern, the away team saw them.

They were… different. Humanoid, yes, but their physical forms still bore the telltale marks of their assimilation: pale skin, implants embedded in their flesh, and the occasional flicker of a cranial implant. However, they weren’t drones. These individuals moved with a fluidity and expressiveness that was utterly absent in their former selves. They were working, tending to the fungi, crafting tools from stone and scavenged Borg components.

"I guess this explains where the power from the cube is going." Gratakka said.

“You think?” Damrus said to the burly Gorn as he gave him a wry look and a chuckle in his voice as Prolasch, Melina, Navesh and Nerah emerged from the tunnel and joined them.
 
=/\= Chapter Eight =/\=​

Stardate 58204.64 (March 16, 2381. 16:40 Federation Standard Starship Time.)
Surface of Ceti Tolcan III
Ceti Tolcan System, Sector 25714, Neutral Space

Suddenly a female ex-Borg with a ocular implant that covered her right eye and her left cheek walked up the path with a crude sash going from her right shoulder to her left hip. Around her broad hips was a crude skirt. Looking at the away team with a quizzical look in her remaining organic eye the ex-Borg woman cocked her head to the side as she began to speak.

“Who are you?” The ex-Borg woman said speaking in a voice that was part synthesized part natural.

“I am Commander Damrus Rel of the Federation starship Mjolnir.” Damrus said. Continuing on he gestured to each member of the away team as he introduced them, “This is Lieutenant Gratakka, Lieutenant Commanders Tymoshenko and Gorsach, Lieutenant Nerah and Doctor Pax. We come in peace. Our long range sensors detected some unusual readings coming from this planet and when we investigated we discovered the crashed Borg cube on the surface. Our investigation of the cube led us here. We mean you no harm.”

The woman smiled, a subtle, almost fragile expression on her face as she said, “I am Nalia. We are the Liberated. Our connection to the Collective was severed when the cube crashed. We were… disconnected. Our individual consciousnesses, long suppressed, began to reawaken. It was chaotic, terrifying. But we learned, adapted. We built a life here, away from the reach of the Borg. Please come with me I will introduce you to our council.” Nalia said.

“It would be our pleasure, however we need to report in to our ship in orbit. With your permission I will send one of my people back to report in while the rest if us accompany you.” Damrus said.

“As you wish.” Nalia said.

Looking at Gratakka standing next to him and said, “Lieutenant, return to the shuttle and report what’s happened to the Captain and keep the shuttle secure until we return.”

“Aye, sir.” The burly Nausicaan said before turning and heading towards to the tunnel.

“If you would care to lead the way.” Damrus said after he turned back to Nalia.

“Follow me.” Nalia said before turning abruptly on her heels.

Once Nalia turned and began walking away from the away team Damrus and the rest of the away team followed her as she sashayed down the ramp and onto one of the stone bridges that crossed the seemingly bottomless pit. Once they had crossed the bridge the away team followed Nalia into one of the stone tunnels and saw that light fixtures were embedded in the solid rock of the ceiling and spaced out every three meters that gave off just enough light for the away team to see where they were going. As they followed the tunnel Damrus noticed that it that smelled of dirt and stone and gently sloping downwards, after several minutes the tunnel led to a large open cavern with with pew-like seats that were arranged in a semi-circular fashion and appeared carved out of the floor itself. The seats faced a central platform with a large rectangular table and seats that were all clearly constructed from pieces of debris from the Borg ship. Seated at the table was a half dozen humanoids of various species all of whom were ex-Borg drones and none of whom were members of a species that any member of the away team recognized. Each of the ex-Borg clearly had some of their implants removed from their bodies, although the exact amount seemed to vary from person to person.

Nalia addressed the ex-drones saying, “These are the strangers we detected in the cube. They say they come from a vessel known as the ‘Mjolnir’ and they are from a people called ‘The Federation’. They discovered the cube and found us as a result.”

“Welcome to Sanctuary. We are the Liberated.” The voice of the Borg collective said coming from the patched up Borg Vinculum that dominated the center of the room, “There is no need for you to be afraid or concerned; We are not connected to the Collective.”

Stepping forward an elderly man with orange skin seated said, “My name is Burtos, as I am sure you guessed we are former drones and survivors of the cube’s crash. We salvaged what we could from the from the cube and routed the power from the sole functional reactor down here to power our hidden community. None of us want to rejoin the collective so we modified the Vinculum so we could remain connected to each other but remain individuals.”

“I am Commander Damrus Rel, the first officer of the Federation starship Mjolnir.” Damrus said gesturing to himself before he began gesturing to each of the remaining members of the away team as he introduced them, “These are Lieutenant Commanders Tymoshenko and Gorsach, Lieutenant Nerah and Doctor Pax. I sent one of our away team, Lieutenant Gratakka, back to our shuttle to report to our Captain who is onboard our ship which is currently orbiting your world. We our people’s long range scans detected some unusual readings which we were sent to investigate. When we investigated we discovered the remains of your cube on the surface. Our investigation of the cube led us to your community. Our ship is not large but if any of your people are wanting to leave this world I can speak to my captain about taking as many as we could see about arranging for one of our transport ships to come for you.”

“Thank-you, Commander. However for better or worse this world is our home now and we have come to accept it as such. However, as we are sure you can tell, our technology is crude and consists of what little that wasn’t damaged beyond repair when the cube crashed. Also we will have no way to generate power once the reactor on the cube finally goes off line.” The voice of the Liberated’s collective said from the vinculum.

“We’re not a large group. There is less than one hundred of us here. Is there any way you could assist us?” Burtos asked alternating speaking with the collective voice giving the conversation an odd quality.

“I’m sure something could be arranged.” Damrus said, “If we could get a tour of your community and a list of your needs I would be most wiling to discus your situation with my Captain about providing what our ship can in the way of emergency supplies and speak to his superiors about sending a supply ship with what they are willing and able to provide.” Damrus replied diplomatically.

“Of course.” The voice of the Liberated’s collective said from the vinculum, “You already know Nalia. She will show you around Sanctuary. Once the tour is finished she will bring you back here and we will provide you with a list of our needs.”
 
=/\= Chapter Nine =/\=​

Stardate 58204.? (March 16, 2381. 16:53 Federation Standard Starship Time.)
USS Mjolnir in orbit of Ceti Tolcan III
Ceti Tolcan System, Sector 25714, Neutral Spaces

“Captain, we’re receiving a transmission from Lieutenant Gratakka,” Dorian said from the ops station

“On screen. Ensign.” Callum ordered his voice calm and authoritative.

The viewscreen flickered, and the image of Lieutenant Gratakka appeared. The Nausicaan’s muscular frame was barely visible through the static, but his expression was clear: he was both intrigued and cautious. Behind him, the interior of a Flyer-class shuttle, the Honah Lee, was dimly lit by the soft glow of its control panels.

“Captain, this is Lieutenant Gratakka. We’ve made a discovery,” Gratakka’s voice crackled over the com, his tone steady but with an underlying edge of excitement.

“Go on, Lieutenant,” MacLeod replied, leaning forward in his command chair.

“We found the source of the energy readings. It’s the power system of the Borg ship. But that’s not all. There’s a community of former Borg drones living inside a cave system under the wreck.”

MacLeod’s brow furrowed, “Former Borg drones? Are they hostile?”

“Negative, Captain. They seem to have no desire to assimilate or attack us. They’ve been living here in isolation for what appears to be decades. They’ve even managed to tap into what’s left of the ship’s power system and is using it to power their subterranean settlement.” Gratakka reported.

“Remarkable,” MacLeod murmured. “Can you establish communication with them?”
Gratakka nodded. “Commander Rel ordered me to report in and remain at the shuttle, but the away team had made contact with the XBs and it looked to be going well when I left for the shuttle.”
 
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