Episode 1: Ghosts in the Machine [Prologue]

[BrianM]

He had hoped that the new ship's doctor would also be driven by logic, as many diagnosticians were. Those hopes were dashed when he saw him...

"Doctor Sherman," Stonn said flatly as he walked to greet him. "Welcome to the Columbia. I trust you have found Sickbay equipped to your satisfaction?" He would mention the uniform code later. Perhaps the doctor had not had time to properly settle into his quarters. Stonn posited that this was his first command opportunity to be... flexible.

Oh Lord, a Vulcan ... Dropping his dufflebag to the deck, Sherman saluted his new captain awkwardly, never really understanding the need for the formality of greeting other officers. "Well, to be honest I haven't seen sickbay yet. This young fellow was bringing me to the meet an' greet but I seem to have missed that." The doctor appeared to be sizing up Stonn, but the fact that he was a Vulcan had clearly thrown him for a loop. "I guess I should stow my gear, then, and we can check in with each other later." Turning to the ensign, Sherman continued "If you could take me to sickbay, I'll take it from there." Another awkward salute, and he followed the ensign back to the turbo lift. This is going to be an interesting assignment ...

"Kids and Vulcans", Doc muttered under his breath as the lift doors slid shut.

Howdy all, sorry to be slow getting going here - I got totally caught up in the Olympics last night and today. Getting our first gold medal on home turf is a pretty big deal here. My office is right in downtown Vancouver where it is a total zoo right now. Thankfully I can do most of my work from home (and I'll be able to post more game stuff tomorrow). - Cheers, Brian

[donimator]

USS Yorktown - 2279, Day 7, off-hours - It was with trepidation that Dylan prepared for the private meal with Cmdr. Blake. Normally he was able to negotiate his way through these situations without entanglements, but he felt he had misjudged the Commander. The way he had cowed much of the crew spoke to his tenacity and to his slipperiness. How had he got his tendrils in so deep and yet never have been checked? Dylan thought of dozens of excuses as the hours drew near, yet found himself smartly in his dress uniform outside the quarters of the Commander at the prescribed time. His finger hovered fatefully over the call button, before pressing it with a sigh. A quick call of enter and the door slid open with a hiss for Dylan. The Commander's quarters were spacious and unlike what he would have suspected. Large leafy plants broke up the room and art objects and neatly organized shelves of books were scattered throughout. To Dylan's mostly untrained eye they were all of good quality and covered a broad spectrum of interests and taste. Cmdr Blake was casually dressed and lounging near a holovid fire reading through briefing reports. He smiled at Dylan and looked less menacing out of uniform and within the confines of his lair. It seemed to raise Dylan's hackles all the more. "Punctual and respectfully dressed. Well done Ensign Downer, you have already confirmed much of what I thought about you." Further pleasantries were exchanged, Saurian brandy offered, and a meal delivered by an enlisted crewmember. Cmdr. Blake enquired about how Dylan was settling, how he found the ship, the honor of serving on the Yorktown and their mission over the days and weeks ahead. The meal was a rare Capellan delicacy that Dylan had only seen once before and certainly had never tried nor suspected such could be obtained on the starship. Talk turned to Denevian politics and Cmdr. Blake became very sharp, testing Dylan with questions of his opinion on various issues in the past. His command of the history and his understanding of the intricacies of the behind-the-scenes workings of the colonial government far surpassed Dylan's. Conversation turned to recent events and current labor troubles amongst some of the biggest manufacturers and raw material suppliers on the planet. It became clear that the Commander's family was a very large silent partner in many of these, a shadow conglomerate that pulled the strings of the bulk of industry on the planet. Dylan began to feel more and more cornered as Cmdr. Blake continued discussing things over drinks, as another crewman had come to remove the dinner implements. He hinted and alluded to information concerning his parents that could crush their reputations, though he never put it so bluntly. He was a clever linguist and buried his intentions in layers of innuendo that would be inconspicuous to any but the target of his malice. Dylan quickly realized it was malice and he had already entered into a trap that was hard to back out of without real consequences to his family and his career. All he could do was listen and try to find some room for maneuver. Nothing was discussed outright, but the Commander recognized a worthy opponent in this duel of words and seemed to relish the challenge of bringing Dylan under his thumb. It was left at mere hints of what future discussions would entail as Dylan rose to leave with the Commander's permission. As his mind swirled over what was gained or lost this evening, the tone in the Commander's voice changed with the first request...the first hook, "When we reach Echo 1, Lt. Manolis will require a boost of power to the science instruments. He will send you the parameters through an encoded message, the key to which you will receive beforehand. Meet his request and erase all traces from the ship logs. I fully trust your capability in this matter, Ensign Downer." The door closed behind him with a quiet hiss.

[donimator]

USS Yorktown - 2279, Day 9 - Downer fell back into his routine in the days that followed his dinner meeting and had no contact with the First Officer. They were only a couple days from Sirius and a rendezvous with a supply vessel where they spent some time in the system running final diagnostics on the newly refitted Yorktown. Dylan pulled double shifts in Engineering and even had a watch shift on the bridge as the round-the-clock testing shook out the final bugs. They left Sirius for Vulcan - barely a 48 hour hop and orbited the planet to take on some science personnel from an orbital space station. T'Mir was one of the scientists that came aboard. She was not from Starfleet, but had unfettered access to the ship and spent much time in Engineering. Lt. Talbot gave her a wide berth as her presence was a bit disconcerting and her attitude somewhat standoffish. She pushed Dylan much like Talbot, but not with his gruff manner and genuine concern. She tried to make him feel inferior, put him on the spot, but Dylan held his own and felt a small thrill when she fixed him with a gaze and tried to catch him up on a technical point. He usually came out on the losing side, but not without scoring a few points. She had great insights into the ship's operations and Dylan learned from her at an accelerated pace despite the checks and barbs. Lt. Talbot was more and more scarce as the days passed and Dylan found himself drawn to T'Mir who still treated him as though she thought him a fool. They left Vulcan for Echo 1, the decade-old third replacement of the subspace amplifier that was a priority target for invading forces eager to cut communications capability during their incursions in this neck of the woods. It had been behaving erratically and the Yorktown was tasked with bringing it back online. The USS Eagle had originally been tasked with this mission, but was called away for unknown reasons. The task fit well with the Yorktown's primary mission of investigating energy readings in the Briar Patch, an easy month's travel beyond Echo 3. That was the future though and Dylan knew already not to question Starfleet orders let alone try to comprehend them. Instead he found himself working more and more with T'Mir, a coincidence he noted, but was not altogether upset about it. Her demeanour had not changed, if anything she was harder on him and he struggled to meet her challenges. He could swear he sensed a fire behind her cool demeanour. A smile that danced just behind her eyes that made him feel she enjoyed this as much as he, contrary to everything he had been taught about Vulcans. So it was on an off-hours shift that they had the system ops secondary controls in engineering to themselves. Readings were normal and routines in place as Dylan turned to move to another panel. He nearly bumped into T'Mir, breathing in her closeness as he loomed over her small frame. Her eyes were wide, her face flush and her breathing noticeable. He murmured an apology, searching for a hint he should take her in his arms, but she looked away and tucked a package into his tunic before hurrying out of the department. He exhaled and sat for a moment wondering what had transpired before pulling the package out. It was an override bus, a section manager's attachment that fit onto a system lock to enable temporary enhanced security clearances for station operations. He spun it around in his fingers for a moment thinking of the trouble he would be in if it was found on his person and considered his course of action. Thoughts drifted to T'Mir, her closeness, her look, her near touch. Then his stomach cooled and hardened. He realized he had just been given the promised key to enable him to carry out Cmdr. Blake's orders. They would reach Echo 1 on his next duty shift.

[donimator]

USS Yorktown 2279 - Day 10 - Downer lay on his bed staring at the ceiling lights as he twirled the override bus in his hand. His rank only afforded him a double berth, but his roommate, Ensign Rogers, was the newly appointed A&A Officer and spent most of his off-duty time in the lab or library. He seemed an amicable enough fellow, but Downer had hardly the opportunity to get to know him with the stark differences in their duties and shifts. For the most part the room was his and left him with free time to ponder his situation. His shift reminder alarm sounded and he responded to the computer that he was ready and would be on time.

Although the ship ran continuous shifts of three per standard twenty four hour Earth day, the concepts of morning, noon and night were still respected as the senior officers preferred a common schedule for planning and conference purposes. Downer usually drew the 'night' shift and the halls were quiet as he made his way down several levels to Engineering. He took over his post at the secondary mission ops controls which were isolated somewhat from the bulk of the department within its own (sealable) space. There was only a skeleton engineering crew milling about as some techs had been rescheduled for warp maintenance when the Yorktown arrived at the Echo One beacon for a few days. He kept hoping that T'Mir would show up, but he had not heard anything from her since she gave him the bus (tucked securely inside his tunic).

He ran his shift protocols, settled into the station routines and began running the scheduled diagnostics. He kept an eye on the navigation log and noted they were less than two hours from dropping out of warp to approach Echo One. Time passed normally and he relaxed into the comfort of routine until his console momentarily went blank and he was locked out of the controls. A single screen flickered to life and unintelligible text and numbers quickly filled the screen. Some columns slowed and settled on a singular letter until a line of text was centered on the screen:

'Engage Override Bus'

Dylan hesitated a moment, but looked around to see no other personnel and pulled out the bus and fit it into the terminal. The screen blanked again before a second message flashed:

'On the designated mark...
increase shield power 58%...
increase gamma range subspace scanning power 92%...
open conduit from warp core power bleed to main deflector dish...
erase logs within 34 second window'

The yellow alert sounded with five minutes to warp drop and all duty stations reported in. Downer found himself wiping sweat from his brow with shaking hands as he worked feverishly to ready the required power needs. "Warp core power to the main dish? What had he gotten himself involved with here?" The alert for dropping out of warp was sounded and the ship smoothly returned to subspace power. Ship systems appeared normal as the shields came online and the requisite short and long range scans were performed from the bridge. Suddenly the RED ALERT sounded and power demands spiked. His message screen simply flashed 'Mark.' and he initiated the program to put the power diversions in place. The demands taxed the power grid and numerous warnings of auxiliary system shutdowns indicated the automated safeguards had initiated to ensure tactical and life support systems received priority designation. Power balanced and the noticeable surge and flash from the warp core transfer signified the deflector dish had released a burst of some sort.

The next moment was filled with blackness and confusion as the Yorktown seemed to inexplicably tumble. Artificial gravity momentarily clicked out, only emergency lighting engaged, and the warp core suddenly dropped off line. Downer found himself on the floor as his control sealed itself and the core breach alarms went off. He was helpless as he saw the engineering techs scrambling for their suits as those closest lay motionless on the floor. System failures across the ship filled his screen as the ship struggled to restart and damage reports flooded in. He regained his chair and began to respond while noticing his message screen simply flashing:

33.
32.
31.

With a curse he engaged the computer database. The override bus allowed him access to the logs and he quickly parsed his actions from the logs as the timer continued to tick near zero. He finished and closed out, disengaging the bus as an afterthought just as the timer reached '0'. His station returned to normal and he spent the next hours sealed in his room, furiously responding to changing power levels as he could only watch the rescue and salvage operation in engineering on the other side of his window. The faceless techs and medical personnel in their suits paid him no heed and he had no time himself to do anything else aside from focus on his tasks.

Eventually the engineering section was cleared and the ship returned to normal with numerous wounds to nurse and a casualty count unknown to him. Near the end, he only learned the Yorktown had experienced the effects of a polaric ion blast as they dropped from warp. He cared little for the details or what part he played in it. He could only collapse into his bunk after an exhausting eighteen hour shift. His debriefing was scheduled for the following day.   

[tomcat]

I am digging the back-story for Downer! 

[donimator]

USS Yorktown 2279 - Day 12 - After a fitful sleep, Downer was awakened hours before he would have liked by the computer's alarm giving him a half hour warning for an officer de-briefing. Downer waited for the second chime before hurriedly rousing, shaving, and dressing in his spare duty uniform. The tail of the lanyard on the override bus stuck out from the tunic in the crumpled pile of clothes he had left on the floor the previous day. An unconscious check revealed his roommate was not there (had he even been in the room at all?) and he palmed the bus and dropped it in the incineration disposal before leaving.

The hallways were chaotic, filled with crewmen moving equipment and repair details hurrying to their destinations. Lighting was reduced and automated messages and pages seemed to play continuously over the loudspeakers. His briefing was in the tactical ready-room which was up several levels and towards the core of the saucer. He reached a turbolift but a security crewman waved him off, "Lifts are still down, sir. Maintenance only. You'll have to take the stairs." Downer regretted the extra few minutes sleep as he double-timed it up several levels in the crowded stairwell. He was just catching his breath after detouring through the halls when he arrived outside the ready room.

Ensign Jablovenic waited at the door, a classmate of his from the academy. She was a comms specialist and had been appointed directly to the Captain's liason group. "Hi Dylan. They're a few minutes behind. Quite the shift you had. Word is you and Lt. Manolis saved us," she dropped her voice, "I heard the Captain talking about some kind of Romulan booby-trap. Banned technology or something, but I'm sure you'll hear more..." Downer was about to question what she heard he had done, when the door slid open with a quiet hiss. Lt. Manolis exited with a firm jaw and a quick glance at the pair of them standing in the hall. Dylan had not formally met the lieutenant and was about to introduce himself when Cmdr. Blake's voice called him to enter. Lt. Manolis marched off with a set jaw without uttering a word.

Downer entered the room and was surprised to see the First Officer beside the Captain, Joel Randolph, the chief science officer, Lt. Cmdr Jeffries, the Tactical Officer, Lt. Cmdr Reijik, and the chief navigator, Lt. Cmdr Dufferin - a full tribunal board - this seemed more than a debriefing. Downer smartly entered to present himself and found he was to remain standing in front of those assembled at the slightly curved (and raised) table. Support staff cluttered the wings of the room, recording the proceedings and receiving messages from across the ship which they often relayed in whispered tones to the various department heads assembled  at the front.

After a few moments, the group turned their attention to Downer. Cmdr Blake was the first to speak and Dylan dearly hoped he was not about to be sold down the river by the First Officer, "Ensign Downer. This Captain's Commission endeavours to determine the circumstances surrounding the events of yesterday that endangered our ship and destroyed a Klingon merchant vessel in the vicinity of Echo One. Please state your full name, rank and serial number for the record."

Dylan did as ordered.

"You were on duty in the secondary Mission Ops in the Engineering department upon our drop from warp? You were working alone?"

Dylan responded in the affirmative.

"Precisely 7.2 seconds after warp drop, Lt. Maolis's scans indicated an energy anomaly that presented an immediate threat to the ship. His system requests were mysteriously bounced from the bridge station to your secondary controls. In which you pulled off an engineering miracle by re-routing power in record time to precisely contain and divert the polaric ion blast that decimated everything in the area...including a Klingon vessel we were to receive some stranded Federation crewmen from." Cmdr. Blake rose his fist hitting the table, "How did you do it, Downer? How did you configure three separate systems in the time it took the pulse to reach us? Manolis himself said he thought the request was hopeless. He thought the ship was doomed instead of only the forty-two souls who perished."

Dylan licked his dry lips. Forty-two? That threw him. He had not considered the lives lost. What was Cmdr. Blake going for here? Was this an operation gone wrong for which he was trying to shift blame onto him? Did he trust Downer would keep his head and talk his way through this? Think man, think! "T'Mir...T'Mir developed some protocols to streamline such requests. She...tested me hard...and I guess the procedures, luckily, stuck in my head."

Lt. Cmdr Jeffries spoke up, "T'Mir? You learned all of that in three days?"

"No sir. It was just the other day and most duty shifts I've had..."

Cmdr. Blake spoke again menacingly, "Ensign Downer. T'Mir left the ship before we left Vulcan. What are you saying she worked out these protocols with you while we were in transit?...Computer. Locate T'Mir."

{sultry Computer voice}"The Vulcan scientist T'Mir departed the ship prior to departure from Vulcan."

So many questions spun in Dylan's head. Only ten days in to his first posting and only images of the brig flooded his mind. And T'Mir? What was going on...? "No sir. T'Mir initiated the protocols and Lt. Talbot drilled me on them. It's been a busy time in engineering. A lot has changed with the refit and some things are working with surprising efficiency."

Lt Cmdr. Reijik looked at him coolly. She had penetrating eyes and seemed to be measuring him. How many at the front sided with Cmdr Blake? What was he pushing him towards? He doubted he could implicate the First Offcier in anything. He knew nothing of the layers he had put in place. And what was the problem anyway? The ship had been saved. He only had done his job. "Well Lt. Talbot is dead." the cold numbness lumped in Downer's stomach again, "The preliminary diagnostics show things on the up and up, although you shouldn't have had the clearances to enable what you did. Perhaps the message bounce gave you bridge permissions. There is nothing in the logs to say otherwise." She finished with a pensive look to the others.

Lt. Cmdr Dufferin chimed in, "C'mon Blakey. Talbot - God rest his soul - said the boy was a crackerjack. Count your blessings he did his job. He kept his head and his training saved him. We should be giving him a commendation, not dragging him here like he was to blame. He saved the bloody ship. Captain? There is so much work to do. Can't we end this and get back to our departments?"

Captain Randolph had sat quietly, his eyes locked on Downer. "Ensign Downer. Preliminary reports seem to indicate measures were put in place that protected our ship from certain destruction. None of those measures exist in any Starfleet manual or directive. You come to us highly recommended, all logs support your actions, but I never seen such efficient operation in a time of crisis as what saved this ship yesterday. Someone tried to destroy my ship, Ensign Downer! And until two plus two equals four, you, like Lt. Manolis, will be restricted to off-duty areas until we can conduct a full security review. I may be shaking your hand in thanks one day, Ensign Downer, but I didn't get to be Captain of this ship by leaving rocks unturned. This hearing is closed. Everyone back to your stations."

Downer stood dumbfounded as everyone filed out of the room. Aides quickly updated the section heads with status reports as Cmdr. Blake and the Captain walked side by side in discussion. Blake shot Downer a disarming look that didn't convey anything of where he stood in the First Officer's eyes. An investigation? Balls! Downer went back to bed.   

[donimator]

USS Yorktown 2279 - Day 12 - Dylan awoke again and was perturbed to see only six hours had past. He felt dog tired, yet could not make himself sleep. He straightened his bunk area and glanced through some personal belongings he had not touched since boarding the Yorktown. He thought of writing a message to send home but to say what? - "Hi Dad. Watch out. My crazed First Officer is trying to pin the first volleys of a war on me and ruin yours and mom's life unless I play his game." He didn't have the patience to sit and began to leave, nearly bumping into his roommate in the door. Ensign Rogers looked surprised to see him and mumbled a greeting before pushing past into the room. Dylan stood in the doorway a moment before leaving, shaking his head.

The hallways were still active, the lifts were still down, and Dylan had to take a circuitous route to reach the junior officer's lounge. He was turned back several times by security personnel who all seemed to know about the restrictions placed on him. He grabbed a drink and sat with his datapad, hoping at least to catch up on his reports, but found his access to even the rudimentary note-keeping aspects of his job had been locked out. With resignation he sat looking out of the ship into the emptiness of space.

"May I join you, Mr. Downer?" Lt. Manolis' voice startled Dylan and it took him a moment before nodding in acknowledgement. It did not take long for Dylan to realize the Science Officer was well ahead of him in the drink count as he unsteadily found his seat. He sat in silence for an uncomfortable time before Manolis finally spoke, looking only into his empty glass, "I told myself I wouldn't let him get me like this again. But here I am...shafted again. You should get out while you can. Request a transfer. Get off this ship before he gets too many hooks in you."

Downer looked around uncomfortably, but there were few patrons and none close by, "Lieutenant. Perhaps this isn't the best time to talk about this. Perhaps we shouldn't even be seen together...with the circumstance and all."

Lt. Manolis leaned close and gripped Downer's arm, "He wants to start a war, Downer. We weren't supposed to be here. The USS Eagle was supposed to be on this mission and he and those Vulcans planned that booby trap to destroy the Klingon vessel along with a Federation ship. Polaric ionization is Romulan technology. He's trying to implicate them and destroy the truce...and why? Because of his business interests. He would plunge us into war because his family controls more weapons' manufacturers than you can count. But I know enough to get out. He still needs me for now...I just need the time to pull things together and I'll bring him down...you can help."

Dylan's mind was spinning as some pieces fell in place. He thought of his homeworld, Deneva, it was not out of striking distance from Romulan space and would certainly be a key world if the wars picked up again. It angered him that lives were thrown away for personal gain. He missed the last part of Manolis' tirade and snapped back to listening at the suggestion of being pulled into another web.

"...and Blake is getting careless. He barely gave me enough warning of the threat at Echo One. With some time to run some simulations I could have configured the pulse to completely deflect the blast with no harm to the ship, but I think he wanted some damage. Some Starfleet deaths to fan the flames..."

"Lt. Manolis," Downer interrupted, "I don't want to get drawn into anything else. I'll take my chances with his requests and find my own way out. I've only followed orders so far. I won't conspire against a senior officer. He will slip up. One man can't drag the Federation into a war."

Manolis broke in, his voice a harsh whisper, "Talbot just played along, looking for an out. Twelve years under Blake's thumb and an officer's commission, but now he's dead. Cmdr. Jefferies use to run things, but Blake leaped past him in seniority and power. Now he's just a lapdog. T'Mir ran the Vulcan side of things, but now she's dead...disagreed with Blake once too often."

With an uncomfortable frequency, Dylan again felt cold in the pit of his stomach, "T'Mir?...She's dead?"

[donimator]

"T'Mir. Yes he transported her into dead space while we were in warp. Then erased the logs to cover his tracks...well got someone else to do it anyway. Who knows what he has on the poor sucker who did that. One would have to be very careful not to leave any markers to erase that kind of information. T'Mir was going to blow the whistle, go to the Captain. She got cold feet and now she's dead. The same can happen to you anytime, Downer. Remember that." Lt. Manolis rose and straigthened his tunic before catching his balance and walking away.

Downer sat alone for some time holding his empty cup and staring off into space through the portholes. Finally setting the glass down he returned to his quarters. Several days passed of the same restricted routine. The ship slowly approached normalcy as repairs were made and duty gaps filled in. The engineering section had taken the brunt of losses and personnel in other technical fields were seconded to bolster the ranks just to fill out skeleton shifts. His bunkmate, Ensign Rogers, was around their shared room some more. They talked briefly about the day-to-day happenins on the shifts and he would talk excitedly at length about the research he was doing, but even after several days Downer knew little more about Ensign Rogers than when they met.

USS Yorktown 2279 - Day 15 - A message came through to Downer to be ready in full dress for a security escort in fifteen minutes. He hurriedly shaved and prepared as the call came at his door. Two enlisted security officers flanked him as they smartly marched through the corridors and to the lifts, heading for the Captain's Ready Room. They were admitted into the small room and marched in to find only Captain Randolph sitting behind his desk. Downer saluted smartly and the Captain dismissed the guards leaving them alone in the room.

Captain Randolph looked tired. The strain of the past days showed. His desk was uncharacteristically cluttered and two half-full cups of coffee were pushed to the side, long neglected. "At ease, Downer...Sit. Sit," the Captain said as he rubbed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He fixed Downer with a strong gaze, though. The body may be tired, but the mind was not. "Ensign Downer. I had your actions officially and unofficially reviewed and nobody can find fault. Dammit, everyone thinks you deserve a medal! If it was the Eagle here, the Federation may have lost a starship. All indications point to the Romulans, but that is for others to sort out. We're ready to ship out and proceed to Echo Two, though we're going to drop out of warp well away and send a probe to check things out first. In any case you and Lt. Manolis have been fully cleared and will return to duty. Your actions have been mentioned in dispatches." The Captain rose and Downer quickly rose with him, reaching to meet Randolph's extended hand.

Downer felt he could trust the Captain, felt the need to spill what he knew and set things right again. He withdrew his hand and hesitated a moment, wondering where to start. Piecing together events and assumptions so that he could build a solid case the Captain would accept right away, "Captain...". His diatribe ready to be unleased, his resolve set...he was interrupted by the door chime.

The Captain admitted the caller, a watch officer on a security detail. He looked nervously at Downer before continuing at the Captain's urging, "Captain. Lt. Manolis was found in a storage room on deck 7. All indications say he took his own life."

[donimator]

USS Yorktown 2279 - Day 16 - Downer thankfully fell back into routine as the ship readied to enter warp again. He felt that people still avoided him, but that may have just been his own sour mood. T'Mir was gone, Lt. Manolis was gone. Where did he fit into this? He had not seen Cmdr. Blake in days and hoped that was a good sign. He ate alone and spent off-duty time in his bunk. (Still no sign of Ensign Rogers. Did that fellow live in his lab?). The solitude of the controls in engineering was comforting. The mood amongst the engineering crew was sombre, as their section took the bulk of the casualties and required the most extensive repairs. For the most part they left him alone, but more than any understood what he accomplished in saving the ship. He deflected their gratitude knowing the false pretenses under which he was able to manage the feat that he did.

With the warp engines passing all of their tests, the Captain gave the order to shove off and they entered warp and maintained a comfortable speed of warp factor 6. This would put them at Echo Two in about ten days, and shortly after that to a rest stop on Deneva, his home planet. The thought of returning home did little to improve his mood. With each passing day the coldness in his stomach grew. He jumped at the quiet hiss of a door opening and expected another request from Cmdr. Blake anytime he turned a corner. His sleep became fitful and he often found himself in the library, losing himself in Earth classics that he had only skimmed over as a student.

"Ensign Downer." Lt. Cmdr. Reijik's voice gave him a start as he did not notice her approach beside his viewer. It was off hours and the library was empty save for those two. Downer started to rise and she quickly waved him to sit, taking a chair near his. She dropped her voice and leaned in closer. "We haven't much time to talk. Manolis came to me before he was murdered." Murdered?? The word rolled off her tongue with such ease but with such distaste as though the action was the despicable part, not the loss of life. "I've had concerns about Blake for some time, but he has covered his tracks too well to make anything stick. We are approaching Deneva, where I assume he will try to put you into play. Follow his plans but stay wary. Report to me only if there is something that you can't handle. You're bright. Think on your feet. Blake has the Captain's trust but he has too much on the rest of the officers for us to move on him. Deneva will be the key. Let him lay out his cards, but don't give him what he wants. You will be expendable once he has it." Without waiting for a response she rose and left.

He stared, unmoving, at his screen for some time, possibilites coalescing in his head, but swirling apart in unformed fragments. He had no idea when he lost control, and could only be sure that he did not like it. It was fours hours until his next shift. He hadn't slept in thirty-six. Yet he was so on edge that sleep was the last thing on his mind.

[BrianM]

This is great stuff! Can't wait for the next part.

[tomcat]

Yea, who needs me! 

I could just sit back and read Don's PC adventures prior to ever boarding the Columbia.

[donimator]

USS Yorktown 2279 - Day 26 - The Yorktown signalled a red alert fifteen minutes before warp drop at Echo Two and Downer was summoned to the bridge. Lt. Pak, his immediate supervisor, vacated the mission ops post beside the conn and moved to a secondary panel behind the executive officers. He nodded faintly for Downer to sit as he left, with lips drawn tight. Captain Randolph was focused on the viewscreen from his chair with Commander Blake flanking him at the central rail. Lt. Cmdr. Reijik was seated at a tactical station across the bridge from Downer. A comms officer and a science officer rounded out the bridge crew. Two security personnel were posted at the bridge lift access.

Cmdr. Blake's voice cut sharply through the tense air on the bridge, "Mr. Vasquez, count down from twenty to our drop from warp. Cmdr. Reijik, prepare to fire the probe on my mark. Ensign Downer, prepare to allocate power to shield and modulate frequencies if polaric ion energy is encountered." Captain Randolph continued to stare at the star tracks on the viewscreen, allowing his XO to manage the bridge crew.

Lt. Vazquez's voice took up the count, "20. 19. 18. 17..."

"Anything Lt. Verhaegen?" Blake questioned the science officer.

"Negative, sir."

"12. 11. 10. 9..."

"Downer. Queue up shield profile Beta-Four. Release warp core conduit locks."

"6. 5. 4. 3..."

"Ready probe launch, Commander." The ship dropped from warp and operated at maximum impulse. The viewscreen magnified on the probe, far, far ahead. The drop point was chosen to allow ample time to detect and respond to a similar burst as at Echo One, but nothing was left to chance. "Shields up! Mark!"

"Probe away, Commander."

"Engage warp drive, Lt. Vazquez. Warp Factor 2. Readings, Mr. Verhaegen?"

The science officer monitored the probe's flight and confirmed it was returning a signal. The Yorktown commenced a circuitous course around Echo Two in low warp to maintain a good lock on the probe. It took a moment for the science officer to filter through the flood of information streaming from the probe. "Nothing, Commander. No traces of polaric ion energy. No other emmisions to suggest any craft or anomalies."

Captain Randolph spoke, "Continue with a full-spectrum scan and send the report to my ready room. Maintain course, Mr. Vazquez. Ensign Downer, you are dismissed. Lt. Pak, please resume your post. Commander Reijik, you have the bridge. Commander Blake, with me, please."

Downer stepped into the turbolift with the Captain and Commander Blake. Neither uttered a word nor acknowledged him when they exited a floor below. Downer continued to his quarters and finally found sleep.

[donimator]

USS Yorktown, Day 29, 2279 - The approach to Echo 2 was uneventful. The full scan results of the probe indicated no threat or tampering with the communications relay and the Yorktown completed the scheduled maintenance. It was other rumours swirling around the lounges and mess halls that caused the stir. A polaric ion explosion near Outpost 5, one of the old Earth station outposts that was not destroyed during Romulan attacks eleven years prior. An attack on a civilian ship out of Starbase 23, allegedly by a Romulan Bird-of-Prey. All in all, talk of war breaking out dominated discussions.

An incident in engineering that barely prevented a coolant loss to the warp core delayed their stay at Echo 2 a few days as the over-taxed engineering department ran meticulous scans on the ship power systems and structure. Fused circuitry throughout the ship's wiring relays caused intermittent problems that could not be contained by redundant systems. After discussions with the Chief Engineer, the Captain decided to postpone the current mission and settle into nearby Starbase 12 for repair.

Starbase 12 was a busy hub, made more so by the apparent activity along the Romulan border. Cruisers and escorts arrived daily to be dispatched to patrols up and down the Neutral Zone. This delayed repairs to the Yorktown due to sheer volume, but as a front line ship, getting her back in the fight was a priority. However it became clear after a few days that repairs would take the better part of a month and would redo most of what was just refitted. A skeleton crew was maintained aboard to work with the Starfleet technicians, but most enjoyed an unexpected stay on Starbase 12. Downer was granted a 7-day furlough to Deneva in the second week and settled comfortably in a civilian transport for the short journey.

Deneva, Day 41, 2279 - Downer looked out of the viewport as the passenger liner he was on powered smoothly at sublight speed towards Deneva. The warp point was a little further from the planet than most systems due to the asteroids that clustered around the planet. The automated mining ships swarmed like bees around the huge chunks of rock as they efficiently extracted ore and deposited it to a fleet of tenders that ran constantly between space and planet-borne refineries. It was a massive operation that kept much of the planet unspoiled while it reaped the riches of extensive mineral wealth.

The viewport dimmed as they left the shadow of the planet and began their descent into the atmosphere to Tate Spaceport, the industrial heart of the planet. The spaceport was all about efficiency and it was here that he grew up. Dark clouds and stormy weather covered this end of the continent, not unheard of at this time of year, and it was not until they broke through the low clouds that Downer saw the snaking tendrils of maglev tracks that radiated out from the port to the dispersed refineries, processing plants and agricultural depots.

The spaceport activity was busy and chaotic and was the antithesis to life on the rest of Deneva. The transient population of Tate Spaceport was the equal of the total of the rest of the continent save Deneva Station itself. Deneva Station was the governing seat of the colony and was a planned community with wide tree-lined boulevards and natural parks, rivers and canals that blended in with the buildings. Tate Spaceport grew in rings and was constructed at different times and by different corporations and interests and therefore had little planning. Naturally there was a great rivalry between the two chief cities.

The local news feeds flitted across the viewscreens and it was clear that all was not well on Deneva. A general strike by workers that handled freight on the spaceport docks was being threatened due to the threat of corporate takeover and a crackdown on the power of the unions. Downer smiled as he thought of his parent's involvement and how this trip would be far from the relaxing visit he was planning. Just like old times. It was good to be home.