Terra Incognita - Season 1 - Episode 1

[Solluk]

New Bajor - Starfleet Academy Auxiliary - Weeks after the wormhole was sabotaged

Captain's Log - Stardate 76185.41

Earth year 2399 has proven to be a tumultuous one so far for those of us assigned to posts in the Gamma Quadrant.

How do I sum-up what has transpired?  How do I encapsulate what led us here?

Do I start two-and-a-half years ago, when I first came into command of Katra Station?  Our station had a grand beginning.  The furthest Federation asset in the Gamma Quadrant, the station was placed in orbit of the Trialus system.  In addition to being a frontier station, it was also perfectly positioned to monitor a scientific curiosity: The phasing of the planet Meridian. 

That scientific curiosity would get an up-close look when the population of Meridian reached out from an alternate dimension, asking to be stabilized concretely in our universe.  Otherwise, they were at risk of being incorporeal forever.  Katra obliged, moving to the location of the world and making mighty efforts to stabilize the planet as a material entity in the solar system.  It was a grand, early success.  Proof of what the Federation could do out here.

But our feeling of elation did not last long.  We encountered Wanderer pirates.  Hostile Dosi invasions.  New Dominion attack ships.  Dord slavers.  Atrosian astroceti.  Etrosian refugee populations.  Numati mental manipulation.  Drecacon hunters.  Gregari swarm ships.  And finally, the power that brought us here today: The Thinkers.

Led by a figure who appears to be 'Kurros,' a member of the Think Tank encountered by Voyager in the Delta Quadrant, the Thinkers are a large organization who now seem to be manipulating events in this quadrant.  They claim to be working to stop some ancient evil.  They claim the Federation is getting in their way.  And so, in their most recent act of aggression, they found a way to close the Bajoran wormhole.

This has cut us off from the rest of the Federation.  Now, the entire Starfleet presence in the Quadrant consists of Katra Station, a half-dozen ships which were coming to Katra for refit, four wrecked cruisers we hope to repair, two damaged sections of a shipyard, and the New Bajor colony with its Starfleet Auxiliary.  Here, just over 3,000 cadets are currently in training. 

We will be working to re-open the wormhole, but meanwhile we are all that remains of Starfleet in this quadrant.  We must begin to organize our operations independently of Starfleet Command.  As a consequence, the Captains and Commanders of assets in the Gamma Quadrant have gathered here at New Bajor for a conference where the future of operations in this Quadrant will be discussed.  The USS Mughi just arrived, so we can finally proceed.

The first question at hand is the big one:  Who is in charge?

I already have someone in mind.

End Log.







Captain Zanner, Retiring Captain of the USS Amalthea, former Academy instructor
Captain Solluk, Commander of Katra Station, Captain of the USS Healy
Commander Rixx, Captain of the USS Mughi - a Starfleet Tender
Commander Cody, Captain of the USS Aquila - an Academy Training Ship
Lieutenant Commander Magella, Captain of the USS Tempest -  a Galaxy Class Explorer which has been refit for transport duty



"With Rear Admiral Montoya (the previous Chief of Quadrant Operations) currently enjoying a vacation on Risa along with her wife, our way forward seems plainly obvious," Solluk suggested as the meeting began. 

The Admiral's wife was Fleet Captain Suzuki, the previous Commandant of the New Bajor Starfleet Academy Auxiliary.  She would have been the natural choice in the Admiral's absence, but she was with her wife on Risa, leaving the Gamma quadrant rather destitute of ranking officers.

"The most senior and most experienced officer present should become the new Quadrant Operations Chief, directing Starfleet activity in the Quadrant moving forward.  That person is clearly Captain Zanner."

There were murmurs of assent throughout the room.

Zanner shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  He had been on the cusp of retirement, recalled to Earth to receive his final laurels before returning to civilian life.  That had been a depressing prospect, but at least he hadn't had to broadcast the reason for his retirement.  Of all the people in this corner of the galaxy, only Commander Tess t'Lhoell, one of his favorite former students, currently knew the reason for his impending exit from the service.  She knew, his Starfleet physician on DS9 knew, and the brass back at Starfleet Command knew.

Now, he would have to reveal his illness to a room full of veritable strangers.  The thing he dreaded most was their pity.

"Esteemed colleagues.  I appreciate the honor you are attempting to bestow, but I cannot accept it."  He frowned slightly, "You all know I was planning to retire-"

Cody interjected, "But surely, given current circumstances-"

"Please," Zanner said, "Don't make this harder than it already is.  I was recently diagnosed with mid-stage Darnay's Disease.  It is not curable.  I have one year, perhaps two, before my mind is taken from me when I enter the final stages of the illness.  At that time, I will descend into the state of a gibbering madman.  A person with this disease can not be trusted with so important a post, and I would not accept it if you tried.  I will not have every order tainted by subordinates wondering if I am still sound.  If my judgment is slipping. 

I'm sorry.  I just can't do it."

There was a moment of silence as all those present tried to process the news.  Zanner was well respected among the officers of the fleet.  It would have been easy to put him in charge and be confident that a good man was leading them.  But now...

"Well... then it's got to be Solluk," Rixx said matter-of-factly.

"Me?" Solluk looked like he'd been accused of shoplifting.

"It makes a lot of sense, actually," Rixx continued, "Katra has a top-notch sensor and communications suite, and is the ideal place from which to coordinate quadrant affairs.  Even New Bajor can't compete with your C&C capabilities.  Plus, regulations stipulate that in the absence of a flag officer, the captain of the ship or installation that has tactical superiority is in charge of any group.  Katra has tactical superiority, and even if it didn't, after Captain Zanner you're the most senior CO left in the quadrant."

Solluk looked back at Rixx, a pained expression on his face.  Anyone who wasn't aware of the Vulcan's condition might be shocked to see him react with the emotion that was so clearly painted on his features.  But that expression gradually melted into a harder one: A look of resolve. 

Rixx wasn't wrong. 

"Do all of you concur?" Solluk asked simply.

There was a moment of silence, and Solluk wondered if an argument might erupt about who should be in command.  But the moment passed, dissolved by nods and words of agreement from around the table.

"Then... regrettably... I must accept your nomination to act as Quadrant Operations Chief, until such a time as we can regain timely communication with Starfleet Command."

"I hate to say it," Commander Magella interjected, "But that could be never."

"Perhaps.  But we shall strive to re-open the wormhole.  Failing that, we'll work on constructing some kind of communications device that can allow us to get orders from the Alpha Quadrant.  Until then... we are on our own."

"So, what are your orders, Sir?" Cody asked.

Solluk thought for a moment.  What were his orders?  All eyes were upon him.  He'd better make some up quickly, or the COs present would soon lose faith in him.

"I'm going to be taking your ship, Cody," Solluk said at last.  "I'll leave the Healy here.  She's not going to be able to exceed Warp 1 until she gets a complete overhaul, so she's useless to me.  But she can still be of use to you as a training ship for the Academy.  You can train crews while repairing her.  At least we'll get an ace class of Operations and Engineering personnel out of it."

Solluk thought the man might be upset, but he merely nodded.  "Makes sense.  Plus, the Aquila is a good platform for transporting those fighters of yours back to Katra.  But I warn you:  By this time next year, we'll have that New Orleans class ship repaired, polished, and ready to run circles around the Aquila.  You'll wish you hadn't switched up."

Solluk shrugged, "Maybe at that time, I'll switch back."  He smirked slightly.  Then he looked to Rixx.

"Captain Rixx, I'll need the Mughi busy here.  First, repairing and assembling those shipyard components.  Then, using the partial shipyard to repair the Auxiliary Cruisers that were damaged protecting the wormhole."

Rixx nodded, "We'll get it done.  And in record time."

Next, Solluk looked to Magella.  "You, I'll need to head to Katra, maximum sustainable warp.  I want you to take temporary command of the station while you refit your ship back to an Explorer configuration.  I'm going to be here for a couple of days making sure administrative infrastructure is in place.  Then, I intend to check on a distress call we received.  It was only a partial message, but it sounded like a civilian freighter had crash-landed in an uncharted system.  I'll take the Aquila out and investigate.  It'll be a good chance to shake her down."

Magella seemed perplexed, "You want me to relieve Commander t'Lhoell?  Pardon me, Sir, and you know her better than I do, but she seems more than capable of running that station without my assistance.  And... she outranks me."

Solluk nodded, "She is more than capable.  Which is why I'm giving her a field promotion to Captain and putting her in charge of the Amalthea.  You will carry my orders to that effect, along with her orders: To begin immediate exploration and investigation into the Gamma Quadrant, with special attention to acquiring any technology or technique which might help us to re-open the Bajoran wormhole while seeking friendly relations with local powers.  When I return to Katra after my rescue mission, those will be your orders as well."

Magella's lips made an 'O' and she nodded her head, "Understood, Sir."

Finally, Solluk turned to look at Zanner.  "Captain... I understand your situation.  But I can't let an experienced officer just lay fallow.  You say you've got a year or maybe even two left in you.  I must ask you to give me that time.  You're right that in your condition, you can't be in charge of the quadrant.  Nor even a ship.  But I see no reason why you can't take a position as the new Commandant of New Bajor's Starfleet Academy Auxiliary... at least for the time being."

Zanner had been grinning.  He could think of no one better to inherit the Amalthea than Commander- no... Captain t'Lhoell.  He had been wracked with anxiety over what would become of his ship, and now all of that worry had melted away.  He felt like he could float right off of his chair.

But then he focused on what Solluk was saying now.  Academy Commandant?

The position had its stresses and responsibilities, but they were not as crisis-prone as those of a Quadrant Chief or a Starship Captain.  Yes... he could do that.  For now.

"I can accept that responsibility, Captain.  With the proviso that when my faculties begin to fail, you allow me to resign."

Solluk nodded, "When that time comes.  And not a moment sooner."

With that decided, Solluk tapped his badge, Captain Solluk to all Healy personnel.  You are to report to the USS Aquila immediately.  The ship will be taking on a full complement of fighters, and then departing this system within 48 hours.

Then he stood, glanced around the table, and remembered again that he was the senior officer present.

"Dismissed... and good luck."











SS Wonderland - Unexplored Star System KH-113 - Planet II
Soon after the wormhole was sabotaged, Just after the crash of the Wonderland

Asile - Ex-Captain Odelot - Former Engineer, Cook Aldo - Unemployed Security, Cargo Specialist


Odelot had his hand clasped tightly on the SIF manual control console when the ship hit the ground.  Even so, the force of impact was so prodigious that his hand was wrenched free, and his portly body flew upwards into the ceiling before coming crashing down hard upon the deck.  Only the ample fiberous fat tissues of his body prevented severe damage to his internal organs. 

The power to the cockpit went out, and in the darkness he could hear someone screaming...









USS Aquila - Bridge - Two days after the Conference on New Bajor

Solluk rounded the command chair, gazing down at it for a moment before taking his seat.  The USS Aquila was a very different ship than the Healy.  The New Orleans class Healy was more of a frigate: a lean hunter with the flexibility to be reconfigured for a variety of purposes. 

By contrast, the Aquila class was an evolution of the Constellation: A carrier vessel with enough power to defend itself without an escort.  Starfleet had termed these ships 'Logistics Carriers,' and they had worked to protect and serve the core worlds of the Federation during the Dominion War.  Back then, about 25 years ago, the class had been build upon an already aged hull.  Now, a quarter of a century later, the ship could be considered a veritable antique.  Yet a handful of these ships remained in service, continuously upgraded and repaired until newer ships could be commissioned to take their place. 

The Aquila herself- first of her class- had recently been in service as a training ship at New Bajor.      Now, she would return to more serious action.  With the Healy's legs broken, even an old carrier like this one was an improvement. 

Solluk turned his head to regard 'Century' Saxon, a man about as old as the hull of this ship.  And like the Aquila, he had served Starfleet just as reliably.  It seemed fitting that the newly-promoted Commander would be his First Officer.  Solluk had once learned to rely on Saxon when the man had served Katra in Strategic Operations.  Now, Saxon would resume that job, while also acting as Solluk's most trusted senior officer.

"What do you think of her, Number One?" Solluk asked.









Katra Station - Operational Control Center - Several Days after the conference on New Bajor



"Attention to Orders," Lieutenant Commander Magella said loudly, in a formal tone.  "To Commander t'Lhoell, acting Commanding Officer, Katra Station.  You are hereby requested and required to relinquish command of this posting to Lieutenant Commander Magella, Commanding Officer, USS Tempest.  Said vessel, USS Tempest, to be attached to Katra Station.  Simultaneously, you are requested and required to claim the ship USS Amalthea as her new Commanding Officer, at a rank of Captain, with dispensation to transfer Commander tr'Lhoell, hereby promoted by this order,  along with any other necessary officers to your command if you deem it vital to your mission. 

Your mission, until and unless otherwise instructed, is to Explore the Gamma Quadrant: To seek out new life and new civilizations, to forge alliances with local powers, and to find phenomena and items of scientific and technological interest with an ultimate aim of discovering a way to  rectify the Bajoran Wormhole.  These orders, to be carried out as of this date.  Signed, Captain Solluk, Chief of Gamma Quadrant Affairs, Starfleet."

The room was filled to the brim with officers and cadets from Katra, the Tempest, and the Amalthea.  Everyone stood at attention as Magella handed over the PADD with Tess' orders.

"Congratulations, Captain."

[John Saxon]

<USS Aquila - Bridge>



The most recent past had been somewhat of a whirlwind for the otherwise redoubtable officer. With the loss of the wormhole - through an incident that had coincided with his explosive success to close the artificial aperture that had, in hindsight, formed the barrel of the weapon that collapsed their access to the Federation (a matter he still took as a personal failure) - the scrabble to form a cohesive command structure with the truncated Fleet hierarchy had one surprising personal development.

For reasons that only the Great Bird truly knew, John 'Century' Saxon's rise on his somewhat newer career ladder as a Starfleet Officer - and not, as he had been for the most of his 80 years service, as one of the Enlisted rank & file - continued unabated and he now sported the rank of Commander. Not only this most ridiculous of turns, but also returning as the Katra Station's Strategic Operations Officer. And, most surprising of all, its First Officer.

Given that, only two years back, he was gifted an Officer's Commission to Ensign for 'services to the Fleet', with an expectation by the Admiralty that his pending retirement from decades of action would be played out in a small, backwater station in the quiet, unassuming pastures of the Gamma Quadrant, it was - quite frankly - almost enough to make him laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all.

Almost.

But Saxon was not a man to take upon mirth easily. The responsibility, duty and - above all - vigilance continued to be his guiding principles no matter the rank on his uniform. Which, given the somewhat unusual steps taken to elevate him from Lieutenant to Commander, was (quite rightly) merely Provisional. A 'battlefield commission' they had called it during the War, awaiting ratification from the Admiralty. And at war they were. In his mind, the Thinkers had crossed the Rubicon - even beyond their previous schemes. Past actions had been surreptitious. Deniable. Circumstantial.

The anti-neutrino beam fired through the artificial anomaly at this terminus of Bajoran Wormhole was blatant. Arrogant. And utterly without concern for ramifications. It was... very them.

His heart, cloned and replaced like the majority of his organs these days, had reawakened with the fire of a soldier once more and for the past few days he had thrown himself into the training rooms - in between his new duties - to hone the edge to his steel once again.

"What do you think of her, Number One?" Solluk asked.

It took a moment for Saxon to realise Captain Solluk was speaking to him. It was a appellation he had heard much of during his previous assignment on Katra, but it had always been addressed elsewhere; it was not a salutation he had ever imagined to be directed his way. Nonetheless, John again shook the oddity of it all out of his mind, and turned in reply. Solluk was one of the finest - no, the finest - Commanding Officers he had ever encountered. To be his trusted second was one of the deepest honours bestowed upon him - in comparison, the Christopher Pike Medal of Valor was a mere ornament.

Looking around the Aquila, John took in the new surroundings. The USS Aquila could very well be a metaphor for him: old but still going. Refitted but still recognisable. Outwardly unassuming but unknowingly potent.

He had glanced at the plaque when he first entered the Bridge - a habit no-one could ever resist - and had raised an unkempt eyebrow at its original commissioning date. Despite its lauded age, it was still 20 years younger than he in comparison. He tried not to let that dwell too much.

Instead, he permitted himself a grin of appreciation. "I think she'll do just fine, Captain" he answered in his voice like leather on oak. And then followed it up with a waggle of his eyebrows. "And I think the Amalthea will be the same."

A small skip of pride danced between the beats of his thumping heart. Dr Moreno - Tess t'Lhoell - had achieved what he, as an observer  - and perhaps as secretly quasi-grandfather - for some time, felt she had deserved for too long. Captain of the Luna-class USS Amalthea, with Rayek tr'Lhoell (her spouse and Saxon's immediate predecessor), as the First Officer.

It was one of the few good things to come out of the calamity befallen them all.

Restoring a sense of professionalism, Saxon clasped his hands behind him in his usual poise. "With your permission, Captain, I'll oversee final preparations for departure."

[Tess tLhoell]

NPC Juraan Ren
[SS Wonderland - Unexplored Star System KH-113 - Planet II]

SS Wonderland - Unexplored Star System KH-113 - Planet II

Asile - Ex-Captain Odelot - Former Engineer, Cook Aldo - Unemployed Security, Cargo Specialist


Odelot had his hand clasped tightly on the SIF manual control console when the ship hit the ground.  Even so, the force of impact was so prodigious that his hand was wrenched free, and his portly body flew upwards into the ceiling before coming crashing down hard upon the deck.  Only the ample fiberous fat tissues of his body prevented severe damage to his internal organs. 

The power to the cockpit went out, and in the darkness he could hear someone screaming...

A whistle.

That was the whistle of the wind. It sounded threatening. Violent. As if this planet wanted to scare away the uninvited guests.

That was the first thing Juraan consciously perceived again when he regained consciousness. The next thing, almost simultaneously, was the worst headache he had ever felt. As if his head was stuck in a perpetually repeating crash. He took a deep breath. His chest ached. But it wasn't the seat belts, which were the only thing keeping his body from sliding to the floor, that caused the pain. It was somehow coming from within.

Forcing his eyes open, he immediately closed them again when he saw only blurred contours. He groaned and finally managed to lift his chin from his chest - the stabbing pain that jerked through his head made him groan. His eyesight didn't really want to work yet, so the sense of hearing jumped in again. He listened. Wind. But he didn' hear anything else. Or did he? Were there not footsteps?

As if that sound had been a coin dropped into the slot of his memory, his thoughts now rushed to the others. Cathy ... and Finn. And the Pakled crew. That was the impulse he had needed to force his eyes to open. For a moment, everything was still spinning. But after a few blinks, everything regained its usual shape.

His hands felt for the release mechanism of the seat belt and Juraan turned his head to check on the others "Cathy", Juraan said, but his voice was thin and brittle. "Finn!" he called louder now and turned, the movement causing pain again. Probably his whole body was one single bruise.

"Odelot! Asile! Aldo!"

[Finn Moreno]

As the ship skidded and jumped over the rough terrain, threating to just tear apart in the middle, Finn covered his head with his arms. Like the others he got thrown forward and backwars in his seat like a rag doll. Two or three times his forearms connected so hard with the consoles in front of him that they slipped and his face took the last one. All that kept him from flying around was his seat belt.

The moment the ship stopped moving an erie silence filled the void. The lights were flickering on and off. Mixed in between were flashes of red.

The first realization that hit him was that he had survived the crash as he lifted his head from the console, slowly and carefully but still high on adrenaline.
Everything hurt, especially his arms and even his nose. What was more important was his crew though. He sat up far enough to see both Cathy and Juraan in their seats, both not moving. Were they okay?
It was hard to unbuckle himself because his left arm was either broken or badly sprained but once he managed, he slipped from the seat onto the floor that was covered in everything that hadn't been boltet down.
For a moment panic overcame him. What if they were dead and he was the only one who had survived just to slowly starve to death down here.
He checked on his crew, felt their pulse with shaking fingers and discovered that both Cathy and Juraan were still breathing but out cold.
He wiped at his nose with his sleeve while he shot a glance towards the sleeping quarters where the Paklets were.

Another flash of red, followed by what sounded like thunders made him glance through the window. When had the electric storm arrived? Did this planet have a breathable atmosphere?

He swallowed hard against his tight throat and tried to overcome his fear.
So he staggered back to where the Paklets were.
They seemed alright at first glance.
Odelot, you're alive! I think everyone is alive...barely. He muttered, then rubbed his face but regretted the motion that sent a jolt of pain up his arm.
And for a second he was overcome by despair. How could they possibly survive here for more than two or three days? How could they fix the ship? The answer was. They couldn't.
As he sat down tears suddenly stung his eyes.
That's when he heard Juraans voice calling his name and gasped.

[Solluk]

USS Aquila - In orbit over New Bajor

Solluk smiled at Saxon and nodded, "By all means, Commander.  I'd like to get underway as soon as possible.  I already feel somewhat guilty for taking so long to respond to a distress signal, but with the current crisis, I didn't think we could manage this any sooner.

Still... I think that stranded freighter crew has waited long enough.  When we do get underway, I intend to test her legs.  Warp nine, if she can manage it.  Let's see what sort of standard Commander Cody has his cadets keep these academy ships up to."

That, in particular, was a source of concern for him.  However good Commander Cody was, a ship full of cadets could never hope to be kept in optimal shape.  There were some things they just wouldn't know.  And, with the ship never leaving the system, there were some things that couldn't be known.  Breakdowns often only happened when a ship was stressed, and the Aquila hadn't been stressed for a long while.








SS Wonderland - Unexplored Star System KH-113 - Planet II
Immediately after the crash

Asile - Ex-Captain Odelot - Former Engineer, Cook Aldo - Unemployed Security, Cargo Specialist


Odelot patted himself down, and looked for Aldo and Asile.  Both of them were in similar states of dishevelment.  Bruised, perhaps.  But not broken.  Years of meatloaf and chocolate milk had padded their bodies with the natural 'armor' of his people. 

Asile spoke next, "We are living," she said, seeming to be mildly out of breath.

"It was being a hard landing," Aldo said, rubbing his head.  There was already a bruise forming there, but no blood yet, thankfully.

Odelot smiled, "Barely alive is being a lot better than not alive, I think," he said, then looked to Finn.  "The Captain is being hurt!"  He glanced around, "And the Holo Man is broken.  There is being no power anywhere."

A high pitched screaming could be heard again.  The whistling of the wind outside, through some crack in the hull.  No Pakled would ever call a wreck unrecoverable.  But taking off from this place would take a lot of work.

Hearing new voices, Odelot turned, "I am hearing Juraan!  Hello Juraan!  The Captain is being hurt!  Come quick!"

[Beja]

USS Aquila - Med Bay - Orbit over New Bajor



Beja reached up and took out the plasma bags and counted them out. She typed in the number into the spreadsheet on her PADD. Before she made sure to put them back in their place. She moved onto the next item, the hyposprays, counting them and typing in the number into her PADD. She took her time as she assessed all the various medical equipment that was housed in the medical bay on the USS Aquila.

Beja felt a twinge of sadness as she realized that she and Padrini normally did this type of activity together. They had worked in the medical bay on Katra and the Healy together a couple of times, when Tess had been busy commanding the bridge or the station with Solluk. Padrini had always been such a friendly and steady friend even in the most stressful situation, that Beja missed her partner in crime as the human saying went.

This would be the first mission that found the crew of Katra split. Tess and Rayek were on their own ship, seeing if they could help find technology or methodology that would help open the wormhole back up, and the others were still on Katra holding that line in the stars for those that were left in the Gamma Quadrant truly on their own. There was no more Starfleet coming to their aid or rescue, they would need to hold off that darkness and keep each other safe with what they had here.

There was not time to dwell on any kind of sadness or that, there was a ship in distress that needed them with a clear head. Beja completed the rounds of the medical bay, having inventoried all of the pertinent equipment and items that they would most likely need. A crashed ship held a high probability of injured people, and Beja wanted to make sure that the medical bay was ready for them. Making sure the small medical crew on the USS Aquila was prepared for the emergency of multiple injuries of a variety, was the utmost focus currently.

Beja smiled at the medical crew, and took a deep breath before speaking to them, “Alright crew, we need to make sure that all the equipment is in working order. Please go through each one, and let me know if you find anything that is not in 100% order.”

Beja glanced down, when Mon shuffled up and nudged her hand with his head, “And everyone this is Mon. Don’t worry, despite his size, he is a highly trained therapy animal. He will not interfere with our work. And he is up to date with all of his vaccines.”



Content with his introduction, Mon gave a smile full of fangs, while his tail thumped loudly against the floor.

[Sirol]

< USS Aquila / In orbit over New Bajor / Bridge >



Absent-mindedly rubbing her aching, cold hands, the slender scientist studied the readings in front of her. Considering the recent unfoldings, she had asked to accompany the Captain; assuming that she would be of more practical use out here, practising metaphorical damage control, or at least assisting in doing so.
And just like her military career had started over two decades ago as a mere Uhlan on a patrol ship, here she sat once again, this time aboard the Aquila, functioning as her (even if just temporary) sensor operator…
Known in the unknown…
It was an odd irony to find a tad of comfort within such an old pattern, but - despite Sirol herself seeing it as an unnecessary instinct - she understood very well that this had been what most cultures defined as nostalgia: In the face of a confusing and subjectively threatening present [and frankly, nothing was more disturbing and terrifying to her than the thought of complete and utter detachment...] finding solace within fond, old memories and known structures…
Performing her first duty on an undoubtedly many decades old ship… Many would romanticise this moment, and - although Sirol lacked that sort of aspiration per say - she recognised its potential…

Quietly turning around, she looked fourth and Back between Captain Solluk and Commander Saxon.
Their conversation was - for the better or the worse - slowly putting a damper on the romantic outlook of being aboard a classic, replacing it with issues that actually mattered: Her capacities with the current configuration were not entirely known yet.
Raising an eyebrow towards both of them, she acknowledged their statements quietly.
One more unknown factor, waiting to be properly illuminated!, Sirol thought by herself before she slowly turned around again to face her auxiliary console, and began to initiate a proactive check of all her assigned systems.

[Rayek tr'Lhoell]

NPC Cathy Daniels
[SS Wonderland - Bridge] (crashed on unexplored planet)

SS Wonderland - Unexplored Star System KH-113 - Planet II
Soon after the wormhole was sabotaged, Just after the crash of the Wonderland

NPC Juraan Ren
[SS Wonderland - Unexplored Star System KH-113 - Planet II]

His hands felt for the release mechanism of the seat belt and Juraan turned his head to check on the others "Cathy", Juraan said, but his voice was thin and brittle. "Finn!" he called louder now and turned, the movement causing pain again. Probably his whole body was one single bruise.

"Odelot! Asile! Aldo!"

As the ship skidded and jumped over the rough terrain, threating to just tear apart in the middle, Finn covered his head with his arms. Like the others he got thrown forward and backwards in his seat like a rag doll. Two or three times his forearms connected so hard with the consoles in front of him that they slipped and his face took the last one. All that kept him from flying around was his seat belt.

The moment the ship stopped moving an eerie silence filled the void. The lights were flickering on and off. Mixed in between were flashes of red.

The first realization that hit him was that he had survived the crash as he lifted his head from the console, slowly and carefully but still high on adrenaline.
Everything hurt, especially his arms and even his nose. What was more important was his crew though. He sat up far enough to see both Cathy and Juraan in their seats, both not moving. Were they okay?
It was hard to unbuckle himself because his left arm was either broken or badly sprained but once he managed, he slipped from the seat onto the floor that was covered in everything that hadn't been bolted down.
For a moment panic overcame him. What if they were dead and he was the only one who had survived just to slowly starve to death down here.
He checked on his crew, felt their pulse with shaking fingers and discovered that both Cathy and Juraan were still breathing but out cold.
He wiped at his nose with his sleeve while he shot a glance towards the sleeping quarters where the Paklets were.

Another flash of red, followed by what sounded like thunders made him glance through the window. When had the electric storm arrived? Did this planet have a breathable atmosphere?

He swallowed hard against his tight throat and tried to overcome his fear.
So he staggered back to where the Paklets were.
They seemed alright at first glance.
Odelot, you're alive! I think everyone is alive...barely. He muttered, then rubbed his face but regretted the motion that sent a jolt of pain up his arm.
And for a second he was overcome by despair. How could they possibly survive here for more than two or three days? How could they fix the ship? The answer was. They couldn't.
As he sat down tears suddenly stung his eyes.
That's when he heard Juraans voice calling his name and gasped.

The blackness receded and Cathy grudgingly opened her eyes.  It hurt to breathe, her chest was that sore.  It took a moment (and her opening her eyes) to figure out why she was sore, but knowing why she was in pain, really didn't help any.

It was dark in the ship, not black but not lit with an eerie reddish light - very reminiscent to the runaway Starfleet recruit of a Red Alert lighting - but dimmer and without the irritating alarm.

Cathy, heard voices around her and tried to lean forward to turn her head to look behind to Finn whose voice it was she heard.  But the movement hurt and caused her to groan.   She hadn't made out what it was that Finn had said but she assumed letting him know she had survived was a good place to start. 

"Present." she stated with a bit of a self-chuckle at the Academy roll-call type answer.

A flash of red lighting outside the ship lit up the bridge as bright as day.  Cathy winced at the brightness.

She reached out to activate the holographic control system... but nothing activated.   This was gonna suck.

[James Bryson]

[USS Aquila / In orbit over New Bajor / Bridge

Jeb found himself on yet another starship. He had left San Francisco and took two in order to reach the Mughi. He thought that one was taking him to the Katra but an emergency sent him to New Bajor where he received orders to report to the USS Aquila for a rescue mission. He had grabbed his gear and transported on. He was assigned a room with no room mate at the moment. With his gear stored, he knew his next move was to report in to his Department Heading which just so happened to be the ship's XO as well. "Guess I'm headed to the Bridge." he muttered.

The lift ride went pretty quick and when the doors parted, he saw the Captain and XO in their respective seats. He walked up and came to attention.

"Ensign James Bryson reporting in, Sirs." he said and them waited for their replies.

[Solluk]

USS Aquila - Bridge

Solluk turned his attention to the Science station, at one of the auxiliary consoles, where Ensign Sirol was seated. 

The situation with Sirol was a difficult one.  She had initially come to Katra with the Romulan delegation as part of an exchange program meant to foster positive relations with the new Romulan government.  Now that the wormhole aperture had been closed to them, Sirol was as cut off from her government as the rest of them were from the Federation.  But there was the caveat that, although part of an exchange program, Sirol was still a member of the Romulan navy.

At any time, Solluk expected the Romulan delegation to insist that Sirol's exchange be ended, and that she return to Romulan service.  Perhaps aboard the diplomatic vessel the Romulans had brought to Katra.  But until then, he intended to make good use of the gifted officer.  They needed all the talent they could find at this difficult hour.

"Science, I'd like you to run detailed planetary scans of New Bajor,  Compare our scans to the long-established scan data from previous analyses.  Use the result to confirm proper calibration of our short-range sensors.    I want to ensure that they are operating at peak efficiency and accuracy."

Solluk didn't want to be critical of the cadets who'd previously operated this ship, but he also needed to be realistic.  There was likely to be something sub-optimal in the configuration of the ship's systems.

At that moment, Ensign Bryson appeared.  He was among the final officers Katra had received before the wormhole closure.  From now on, any officers would have to come from the Starfleet Auxiliary at New Bajor. 

"At ease, Ensign," Solluk ordered, "We are about to embark on a rescue mission through largely un-surveyed regions where Dominion activity has recently been reported.  I'd like you to select members of the ship's security contingent for the formation of dedicated anti-boarding teams, and drill them against the possibility of repelling a Dominion boarding party."

Based on his Academy student record, Ensign Bryson had the training needed to get the security force of the Aquila into something resembling an effective fighting force.

[John Saxon]

<USS Aquila>

The tour of the ship, ensuring personal interaction with various Departments as he enquired as to their readiness, didn't take long such was his brisk pace. The medical recuperation on Ba'ku had done a remarkable job of easing his joints - while they were not in tip-top condition, even 'magic space radiation' couldn't completely halt the undeniable march of age, they certainly put a spring in his step - and his back - that he hadn't enjoyed for many years.

His walk took him to Engineering last, and entering the large chamber, he was once again struck by the differences of the Aquila over the Healy. The former had the almost unmistakable gloss of a completely overhauled starship - its main engine imperceptibly gleaming with vigour; a new, strong heart within a old, but proven frame. The Aquila represented the spirit of the Federation: new and improved principles built upon the solid foundation of concept. She wasn't brand new - but she was fresh.

The Healy, on the other hand, enjoyed - bar some matters that amounted to 'budget cuts' - the reliability of much of its original fittings. Certainly, the Fleet upgrades had improved this-and-that, but the New Orleans-class endured with little meddling; it endured, where the Aquila adapted.

Out of the two, he was unsure which spoke more deeply to him.

Looking around, Saxon caught the eye of one of the junior Engineers. "Commander!" said the young lad, hurrying over. Young? He thought to himself. They're all young. "Can I help you sir?"

'Century' fought down the desire to put the lad at ease. He still disliked being referred to as sir, despite the infrequent perception otherwise. But his rank and position necessitated a certain decorum to the crew these days. "Is the Chief here?" he said in reply. He hadn't spoken to Goodspeed for some time.

The lad shuffled a bit. "She's...uhhh...busy right now, sir." His face deepened in a red that matched Saxon's undershirt. "Shall I give her a message?"

John's beard jostled a little, in contemplation. The Chief Engineer, Catherine Goodspeed, had made it quite plain she blamed him for the state of the Healy, and her choice of words were snitty, even for the habitually acerbic Lieutenant. That said, he couldn't disagree in part: his rescue started the final a chain of events that culminated in the collapse of the wormhole and the ruination of the Healy; all on the beat of a butterfly's wings.

So, he just nodded, allowing Goodspeed to just get on with what he knew was her best efforts. "Please just relay that we're set to depart shortly, and to send final status to me in ten minutes."

Nodding to the no-doubt terrified junior engineer, cast one final gaze around before heading back to the Bridge.

<Bridge>

Arriving back on the Bridge, he had almost taken his usual place at Tactical before reminding himself that was no longer his role; not here, anyway. So instead, hopefully not missing a beat, he took his chair at Captain Solluk's left, nodding to Ensign Sirol at Science as he did so, hoping that his pause went unnoticed. It was an unusual feeling, sitting so close to his Commanding Officer, and John had a brief, almost amusing, feeling of being sat with a parent while they waited for some meeting with a headteacher. He distracted himself with the chair's status screens when the latest member of the Bridge crew arrived: Ensign James Bryson, Security.

As Solluk gave his instructions, Saxon nodded in partnership. The Ensign had passed third in his class - an achievement that should not be overlooked, given the high standard of recruits these days. And thus he had high hopes the Security Officer would prove to be a worthy custodian for the safety of the crew. "Welcome board, Ensign" he punctuated.

A chime on his chair provided the update from Engineering. It was certainly to the point. "Engineering reports all systems clear and standing by. All other Departments are showing readiness" he reported to Solluk.

[Tess tLhoell]

NPC Juraan Ren
[SS Wonderland - Unexplored Star System KH-113 - Planet II]

The moment Juraan registred that all of them had survived, he let out a sigh of relief. Getting up from the seat, he felt a little shaky, but he ignored that and took a step closer to Cathy, looking her over. "Are you okay?" Then he heard Odelot calling out to him, saying that Finn was hurt.

Wasting now time, Juraan moved over to where Finn was. His nose was broken, his face smeard with blood. If there was any other injury it was hidden beneath his clothes. But the tricorder would reveal any of that in a moment. "Bruises ...", he muttered as he scanned Finn, "nose is not broken, but your arm is." Juraan let the device sink and didn't look happy. "Complicated fracture, the bone knitter in this medical kit is something 6 year olds would play with to treat their dolls when playing doctor. I'm gonna have to find something I can make a splint with."

He then turned to the Pakleds and scanned them, too. She would do the same with Cathy just to get an idea of urgent matters to take care of.

[Finn Moreno]

[SS Wonderland - Unexplored Star System KH-113 - Planet II]
His tears were only short lived because the Paklets managed to put a small smile on his face with their funny way of talking and unshakable optimism. Finn was also incredibly grateful that he wasn't the only one who had survived the crash- no all of them did which was almost a miracle.
As they claimed that there was no power, Finn nodded in the half dark, the only light came from the flashes outside as well as two very dim emergeny lamps in the corners that ran on batteries.

Had he just heard Cathy's voice from the cockpit? "Cathy? Are you awake?"
He sat up straight to listen, when suddenly Juraan rounded the corner. He must have woken up while Finn was talking to the Paklets but he looked pretty bad, even in this light. His face was pale and he was walking very carefully as if he was also hurting.
One of the few things on board that still worked was the tricorder, thanks to a small energy cell inside. It brought no surprise. The impact had shattered his one arm and probably bruised the other but at least not his face. Finn quite liked his nose but came to the realization that none of it mattered if they were dead for a lack of food and oxygen in a week or so.

Looking up at Juraan with the remainder of a stray tear on his cheek, he noticed the bump on his forehead. "I'm so glad you're alive, Juraan. Please check yourself, too, and Cathy. I think she is...or was unconscious."
That's when the pain hit him. What had been bearable, became worse by the minute.

Nevertheless he needed to know. "Asile, did you get a distress call out? Did anyone respond?"

[Sirol]

< USS Aquila / In orbit over New Bajor / Bridge >

Upon hearing an unknown voice behind her reporting for duty, Sirol immediately turned around and gave the newcomer a curious look.
They could certainty use all the willing personnel the could get right now, but - more importantly - seeing a new face was also a refreshing and positive distraction from the hardships of the last days.
She gave the stranger a quiet, hailing nod; already looking forward to see him perform, before she herself turned around again and resumed her work.

Rearranging the control settings to her (preferred) default; minus 0,6 brightness, she raised one eyebrow in surprise.
Judging by what she was about to reset, the cadet who had used this workstation before her must have been ambidextrous. That was something one did not get to see every day...

"Science, I'd like you to run detailed planetary scans of New Bajor,  Compare our scans to the long-established scan data from previous analyses.  Use the result to confirm proper calibration of our short-range sensors.    I want to ensure that they are operating at peak efficiency and accuracy."

The voice of her Captain from the centre of the bridge immediately pulled Sirol out of her thoughts, and her focus onto his face.
With a calm nod she acknowledged both, his order and the reasoning behind it.

“Aye. I am on it, Sir.”
She quickly replied, then - once again - turned around on her chair, and began to pull up two older samples of sensory data regarding New Bajor, before initiating a fresh and complete scan herself.
Her eyes hovered over the various progress bars: Surface characteristics, radiation,  geological activity, atmospheric composition, gravity, life signs… The aspects were plentiful, and so was the incoming data. It was enough for each scan to take between one and three seconds to buffer during the process.

While her eyes stayed glued to her screens, she quietly listened to the conversation behind her, and the Captain assigning the newcomer to form and train anti-boarding teams.
For a quick moment she remembered the attacking boarding parties on Katra on her very first day aboard. An unnerving memory and an uncomfortable thought alike; to be remembered that - despite all of their day and age’s advanced defense technology - Boarding parties were still a legitimate possibility…

As eventually the last of her scans had finished, she began to overlay and compare the samples, scouting for any sort of [for planetary bodies out of the ordinary] deviations.
So far, almost everything looked conveniently even…
Nearly nothing that called for calibrations. It was almost even a little disappointing, since Sirol oddly enjoyed calibrating systems…

Turning around towards Captain Solluk again, she tilted her head and addressed him.
“Sir, the scan is complete and the only notable inaccuracy I could find so far are minor differences in displaying New Bajor’s magnetic field.
With your permission I will run a few more scans to determine as to whether this is a planetary phenomenon or a sensor deviation to be taken care of.”

[Solluk]

USS Aquila - In orbit over New Bajor

"Excellent," Solluk said when Saxon reported readiness.  Then he looked ahead, towards Flight Control.  "As soon as Ensign Sirol has completed her second round of scans, we will be underway. 

Prepare to give us full impulse out to 10 million kilometers, on a vertical arc out of the solar elliptical.  Warp 5 from there until we clear the Oort cloud.  After that, plot a course to KH-113.  Warp 9."

One of the advantages of a dual core, four-nacelle ship was that she had legs.  Most starships of her generation were limited to maintaining speeds that would net them about 1,000 light-years-per-year on average, due to equipment downtime and maintenance limitations.  There was only so much you could stress a warp core before it had to be rested and given periodic maintenance.  Even the brisk Intrepid class had these limitations.  As fast as the class was, she could only sprint in bursts.  So, despite having a top speed of Warp 9.975, she only averaged Warp 8 over the course of a year.

The Aquila, and other ships of her ilk, were less limited.  They could breach the 1,000 light-year barrier because their warp systems were less stressed, with the load shared across multiple cores and nacelle pairs.  Such vessels as the Aquila burned more antimatter fuel to achieve their speeds, but they could maintain high warp velocities for a much longer period of time.  As long as she could refuel, she'd be able to beat newer, supposedly faster ships in a long-distance marathon.

Solluk's goal was to arrive at KH-113 in just two days.  The system was just under 9 light-years away, so that meant a sustained Warp 9 would need to be maintained for the entire duration.