Author’s Note:  This story takes place 10 days after the events of “The Return Part 3.”

 

            Captain Kalin Kale of Alpha Centauri stepped out onto the bridge of the USS Dauntless and immediately frowned.  Not only was there an unfamiliar crew member sitting in the captain’s chair, but the man was wearing one of the red-topped jumpsuit uniforms not authorized by Starfleet for over a year.  Surprisingly, it seemed no one else on the bridge had noticed the man sitting there, so Kale determinedly walked toward the command seat.

 

            “Excuse m...,” Kale stared to say when the dark-haired man quickly turned around as if he had known Kale was walking over and looked at the captain with dark, piercing eyes, then smiled broadly.

 

            “Bon Jour, mon Capitan,” he said.  “It’s been a long time, no?”

 

            Kale frowned in anger as he growled through gritted teeth, “Q!”

 

 

Space, the Final Frontier...

These are the voyages of the starship Dauntless.

It’s ongoing mission:

To Seek, To Chart, To Explore...

Slipping the surly bonds of Earth,

Going where none have been before!

 

Star Trek: Dauntless

The Kale Arc

 

“The Return” By PJK

 

“Part 4 - The Battle

 

 

Personal log, stardate 51758.7:

The Dauntless has retrieved me from DS9, where I spent the final days of my convalescent leave after departing Earth sooner than expected.  With Captain Kalin Kale still in command of the ship, we are now heading toward Vulcan, where Kale will be transferred to the ship construction project at Starfleet Yards.  For the time being, I’m officially just an observer aboard.

In some ways it feels good to be back.  In others it’s really strange.  Strange in the fact that I’m what amounts to a passenger on my own ship.  Stranger in the fact that my usual routine has been thrown completely off by Q’s renewed involvement with Captain Kale.  And stranger still, the visit we’ve been paid by an unwelcome guest.

Koester, out.

 

 

            “Intruder alert!  Commodore to the bridge,” Kale ordered as suddenly the command chair was surrounded by Ga’gh, K’danz, Kane, Kyman, and Commander Lotus Q.  Q first grinned toward K’danz, winking before turning to stare at the Trill science officer for a moment, his expression angry, then returned his attention and insincere smile to Kale.

 

            “Why, Kalin,” Q said.  “I’m disappointed that you’re not happy to see me.  Especially since it’s been soooooo long.”

 

            Kale rolled his eyes at the comment.  “Not long enough.”

 

            “Ooh...,” Q overacted, holding his hands over his chest.  “That hurt!”

 

            “Do you know this... creature, Captain?” Kyman asked, drawing Q ‘s attention.

 

            “Oh no!  Not another one,” Q said with disgust.  “Isn’t one Guinan in the galaxy enough?”

 

            Kale ignored Q ‘s comments as he answered, “Yes, Chief.  Unfortunately, I do.  I first encountered him aboard the Sarek a few years ago when he trapped one of my crew on the holodeck and proceeded to demonstrate to her how different and ‘normal’ her life could have been if she wasn’t of mixed genetic heritage.”

 

            “She needed some prospective on her life,” Q explained, still ignored.

 

            “Then a few months later he transported the whole ship from the Gamma Quadrant into orbit of Romulus.”

 

            “Well, you told me to go play with the Romulans, so I did!” Q protested.

 

            “And then, to top it all off a few months later still, he took the starship Genesis out of the Alpha Quadrant and disabled it directly in the path of a Benj Worldship in the Gamma Quadrant!  And I’m sure you’ve heard that the Benj are almost as bad as the Borg.”

 

            “Everyone needs a little fun and excitement in their lives,” Q joked.

 

            Kale glared at the omnipotent being.  “The Benj are remorseless.  If they had caught either starship, it’s entire crew would have been killed so the ship could be scrapped for parts!”

 

            “Well, nobody’s perfect.”

 

            “What do you want with me this time?”

 

            Q smiled mirthlessly and said, “I hate to disappoint you, Kalin my boy, but this time my interest isn’t in you or your ship...”  Kale seemed about to question Q when he turned toward the petite Assistant Chief Science Officer and continued, “But rather on a certain symbiont and it’s unappreciative host.”

 

            Q started to protest when suddenly both she and Q disappeared in a flash of light.

 

            “Tigger!” Kale shouted.  “Gods, this can’t be happening.  Not again.”

 

            As Kane and Chief Kyman moved closer to the captain now that Q was gone, Fleet Captain Peter J. Koester appeared out of the turbolift.  “What happened?” he asked.

 

            “A being from the Q Continuum has taken Commander Q and disappeared,” Kane explained to the Fleet Captain.  Koester’s face took on a look of genuine concern.  Kane then asked Kale, “What connection does Q have with... uh... Q?  ...Besides the name, of course.”

 

            “As you should know, Q is the symbiont’s name, Number One.  From what I learned of the Commander’s background when we first met at the Academy several years ago, the symbiont adopted the name who knows how many hosts ago when its life was saved by a much more benevolent member of the Q Continuum decades, perhaps hundreds of years ago.  But I’m not aware of any other reason the Continuum would be interested in her now.”

 

            “Oh, I can think of a couple,” Koester mumbled unheard under his breath.

 

            “Captain, what did you mean by ‘not again’ ?” Kyman asked.

 

            Kale sighed, obviously shaken, and said, “As I mentioned, it’s not the first time Q ‘s disappeared with a member of my crew.  And never with the best of intentions.”

 

*          *          *          *

 

            The jefferies tube connecting the lower engineering levels was calm, empty, and silent save for the occasional clicks and beeps of equipment scattered throughout the network.  The peace was interrupted by two bright flashes of light culminating in the forms of Q and Q.  She regarded him angrily.

 

            “How dare you!” she yelled.  “What makes you think you can interfere like this?”

 

            “If you keep ignoring my warnings, I’ve got to turn to more obvious measures.  The Continuum allowed you here on this ship to keep an eye on Q.  Guide him along while he’s still young.  Not fraternize with the mortals.”

 

            “Warnings?” she asked, still angry but actually confused.  “What warnings?”

 

            “Oh come now, Q.  Do I have to hire out a billboard?  The moved outpost...  Disabling the ship in the path of a comet...  Sending out a twenty-year-old call for help.  If I were any more obvious I’d have every screen on the ship flashing the phrase ‘Q, Stop Screwing Kale!’  There are some in the Continuum who already thought you were too deep in these mortal’s affairs, even before Kale came along again.  And you’ve been warned about this before.”

 

            Q paced back and forth within the confined space of the tube junction.  She glared at Q angrily.

 

            “I’m not like you and those others, Q.  I don’t simply see these mortals as curiosities to study or manipulate.  I see them as fascinating, intriguing people, some of whom I’ve developed close relationships with.”

 

            “So I’ve noticed,” said Q with disgust.  “It’s bad enough Koester is aware of what you are.  Why don’t you just go and announce it to the galaxy?”

 

            Q got right up into Q ‘s face and said, “Look!  I don’t interfere with how you run your life.  Don’t tell me how to run mine.  I’m tired of the others interfering in my life when they aren’t even willing to get involved in their own.  It hurt when you made me just walk away from Kalin before.  Hurt both him and me.  I’m not going to let you force me into, or out of, anything else again.”

 

            “You’ll stop getting so involved and that’s the end of it!” Q stated, raising his voice.

 

            “Haven’t you interfered in my life enough?”

 

            “My dear Q, you have not seen me truly interfere yet.”

 

            Q narrowed her eyes and she stated, “I’ll do as I please.”

 

            Q ‘s eyes widened momentarily as he huffed, then said, “Well so will I!”  And with a snap of his fingers they both vanished with a flash.

 

*          *          *          *

 

            The entire bridge crew turned in unison as the flash appeared in front of the helm.  When it subsided, Q stood there, appearing as angry as ever.

 

            “Are you alright, Commander?” Lt Ethan Othello asked with concern.  Q regarded the helmsman for a moment before nodding.

 

            Q!  What did he want?  Is your symbiont alright?” Kale asked, moving toward the science officer.

 

            Q nodded again, then said, “I’m fine.  He was no real problem.  He’s just a freaky tall guy with a receding hairline who doesn’t know how to stay out of other people’s business.”

 

            “But what did he want?”

 

            “Personal matter.  I guess you can say we have a long history together.”  She patted one hand on her abdomen where the symbiont was implanted.  “Don’t worry about it.”

 

            “You’re sure?”

 

            Q glared at Kale, half amused, half annoyed, and then said, “I’m fine, Kal.”

 

            As Kale started to calm down a little, moving back toward the command seat, Fleet Captain Koester quietly moved over next to the petite science officer.

 

            “Something you’d like to talk about?” he asked quietly.

 

            Q looked up at him, a half-smile forming on her lips, as she shook her head and replied, “Not now.”  But over her shoulder she could still hear Kale complaining.

 

            “Gods, I swear if I never encounter another member of the Q Continuum ever again, good or bad, it would be too soon.”  He then  took a deep breath to relax himself.  Q looked up at Koester again, who offered her a wane smile and a pat on the shoulder before he walked back and sat down in the XO’s seat.

 

            “Okay, we have an appointment at Fleetyards Vulcan to keep,” Kale said, likewise sitting down.  “Helm, set course for Sector 0-0-5.”

 

            After a moment Othello reported, “Course plotted and laid in, sir.”

 

            “Very well.  Ahead warp factor 5.”  And then motioning forward with two fingers, “Engage.”

 

            And within seconds, the Dauntless entered warp.

 

*          *          *          *

 

            In the hours that followed, Kale and Q spent some time in her quarters, the captain gently trying to convince Q to explain what had happened with Q.  She simply assured him she was fine, and that nothing bad had happened, but seemed strangely distant to the captain, refusing to kiss or even cuddle.  Deep inside, Q secretly longed to be able to confide in a close friend, someone who understood her and would not act judgmental, as Kale’s comment on the bridge seemed to imply.  She found herself becoming less comfortable around the Centauri man.

 

            “Captain, you’re needed on the bridge immediately,” the voice of Virgil Kane said over the ship’s intercom.

 

            “On my way, Number One,” Kale responded, then holding his hand out to Q, said, “Come on, Tigger.”

 

            The two made their way up to the bridge in uneasy silence, and once arriving, both were again all business.  Everyone on the bridge, it seemed, was dead serious.

 

            “What’s the problem, Number One?”

 

            “We just received a general alert from Starfleet,” Kane said, relinquishing the command seat to Kale.  “They’ve advised that a Borg Cube has been detected heading toward Sector 0-0-1.”

 

            Kale cursed to himself, then looked at Kane.

 

            “Does Starfleet intend to fight?”

 

            “Starfleet is amassing an armada to head off the Borg at Wolf 359.”

 

            The mention of the closest star to the Terran solar system sent a chill down each bridge crew member’s spine, not for the fact of how close to Earth it was, only 4.3 light years, but rather what had occurred there just over seven years earlier.  The defense against the very first Borg incursion against the Federation, a massacre that resulted in the loss of 39 starships and over 11,000 personnel.  Kale’s face remained grim as he looked toward Fleet Captain Koester, who still sat in the XO’s seat.

 

            “Commodore,” Kale said to Koester, addressing him with the respectful honorific.  “If you would prefer I return command early...”

 

            Kale was cut off as Koester raised his hand in a stopping gesture, saying, “I’m here right now as an observer.  I’ll observe.  But if you need my advice, I’m here.”

 

            Kale nodded, then looked back toward the viewscreen.

 

            “Helm, divert course.  We’re joining the new armada at Wolf 359.”

 

            Q looked at Kale, her eyes showing sympathy for the fact that he knew by committing the ship to this battle, Kale was risking a greater than likely chance they would not survive.  The Dauntless had faced the Borg once before, during the Battle of Sector 0-0-1 and had managed to survive.  Could the crew’s luck hold out a second time?

 

            Q walked forward a few steps, placing her right hand on the edge of the helm console, and watched the viewscreen.  Othello looked over at her, then returned his concentration to piloting the ship.

 

            “Why do you suppose they chose Wolf 359 for the standoff again, Captain?” Kane asked as he too gazed at the viewscreen.

 

            “I don’t know, Number One,” said Kale.  “As you know, the Arcturus hadn’t emerged at the time of the original battle.  But during my time in this century since then I’ve met lots of people who knew or lost someone at Wolf 359.”  An idea occurred to Kale.  “Commodore, do you know if a lot of the wreckage remains in orbit of Wolf?  Perhaps the intent is to hide ships amid the debris and ambush the Borg ship?”

 

            “I’m not sure, Captain,” Koester replied.  “But it does make some sense.”

 

            The ship warped closer to the Wolf 359 system, every member of the Dauntless crew growing more tense and on edge as the seconds passed.

 

            “Mister Natchez,” Kale said.  “Have you sent our acknowledgment to the fleet?”

 

            “Aye, sir.  Melbourne acknowledged the signal.”

 

            Kane looked at Kale with a funny expression.

 

            “When did they launch a new starship Melbourne?”

 

            “Sorry, Number One, I don’t know.  I only know the ships launched from Utopia Planitia.”

 

            Q glanced toward Koester, then looked over at Othello, her face a mask of worry.  “Something’s wrong here.  I can feel it.  I’m stopping this now.”

 

            “No, you can’t!” Othello started to say under his breath, but not before Q had already kissed the palm of her hand and slapped the seat of her uniform with it.

 

 

            Nothing happened.

 

 

            Q’s eyes grew wide in shock.

 

            Othello eyed her for a moment, his expression growing more worried by the second, until he finally said, “OK.  Let me try.”  He waved his own hands below the helm console, and like Q, nothing happened.  They were both powerless.

 

            He did this!” Q spat with hatred.

 

            In the meantime, Natchez reported the starship Saratoga had likewise checked in, well on its way to Wolf 359, when Othello turned in the helm seat to face the captain.

 

            “Sir, I’m beginning to think something is wrong with this situation.”  Kale seemed about to comment when Othello cut him off.  “Suggest you access the Federation timebase beacon to confirm my suspicions.”

 

            Kale suddenly realized what his helmsman was implying.  He slowly turned to face the security console.

 

            “Mister Schuukveldlaan, access the timebase beacon.”

 

            Ga’gh acknowledged the order.  When he read the results, his normally dark Wilryck features turned pale.

 

            “Captain, according to the timebase, today is stardate 44001.1.”

 

            Kale, Koester, and Kane all exchanged shocked looks.

 

            “It’s that day!” Kane said.  “The day of the Battle of Wolf 359.”

 

*          *          *          *

 

Captain’s log, stardate..... 44001.1:

I remember the day they dedicated the new memorial to the heroes of Wolf 359, a polished black granite wall with the names of the 39 starships destroyed by the Borg phaser-etched onto the surface of one side, the names of the over 11,000 personnel who lost their lives that day on the other. The date was prominently displayed at the top.  A date that would be pounded into the memory of every member of Starfleet almost every day for years. 

The Earth year 2367.  Stardate 44001.1.

Today’s date.

For whatever his reasons, Q has sent the Dauntless back to that fateful day.  Because of the unusual circumstances we have found ourselves in, I have resumed command of my starship.  Now I’m particularly glad I left my daughter Gem back on Earth with her grandparents, in the future, where she’s safe. 

Our only question at this time remains...  Do we simply make the attempt to head back to our own time?  Or do we join a battle we’re destined to lose?

Koester, out.

 

 

            The department heads gathered in the briefing lounge.  Virgil Kane sat in his usual seat, to the right of the head of the table, Ray Russell sat directly across from the First Officer, and going clockwise around the table from there, Jeff Bloom, Counselor Kethry Sutherland, Chief Pono R. Kyman, Dr Sir Azriel Dourden, and Lotus Q.  Standing by the wall monitor were the ship’s tactical and security officers, Ga’gh and K’danz, and the head of Special Contingent 41, Marine officer Sean McIntyre.

 

            As the group settled, the briefing lounge doors parted and Fleet Captain Peter J. Koester walked in, followed closely by Captain Kalin Kale.  Virgil Kane stood, offering his seat to Captain Kale, and took a position standing beside Koester as the Fleet Captain sat in his own regular seat at the head of the table.  He looked at the faces of each person around him.

 

            “In accordance with Starfleet regulations, as senior officer present, I have resumed command of this vessel.  You all know the situation we find ourselves in,” Koester started.  “We have a very difficult choice to make right now.  The fleet already knows a ship called Dauntless is on its way.  Do we abandon this time and somehow try to return to 2374 almost eight years in the future where we belong?  Or do we throw caution to the solar wind and possibly change history, hopefully for the better?  I’d like your comments and opinions.”

 

            Almost immediately the room erupted in an all-out debate.

 

            “I can’t believe we think there is a choice?”

 

            “You’re right.  We have to go home.”

 

            “Home?  It’s obvious the only choice is to stay and fight.”

 

            “Are we really prepared to change history drastically?”

 

            “If it’s for the better...”

 

            “Our mere presence changes things, probably with the same end results.”

 

            “Who says history has to change?  Maybe we were at the battle all along and were destroyed.”

 

            “I can’t believe we’re even discussing this!”

 

            As argument after argument, opinion after opinion raced across the table, Kale, who had offered few comments, preferring to observe which consensus would be drawn, noticed the only other member of the command staff not participating in the discussion besides Fleet Captain Koester.  Q.  She sat quietly, emotionally detached from the debate going on around her, even as it increased into yelling.  There was a distant, unhappy look upon her face.

 

            Kale reached over and touched Q’s hand.  Her eyes focused on the captain.

 

            “You alright?” he asked.  Her only response was a very sad looking smile as she subtly pulled her hand away from Kale’s.

 

            Suddenly, as if a switch had been flicked, the argument subsided, and the whole command staff looked to Koester.

 

            “It seems we’re pretty well divided over this, Skipper.  50-50,” Kane said.

 

            Koester looked at each of them, then said, “I don’t feel the need to ask that no matter what my decision, you’ll all support me.”

 

            Everyone nodded as Kane said, “100%, sir.”

 

            Koester stood up and walked over to the large windows that overlooked the bow of the ship.  He gazed out at the passing rainbow-hued starlines, then turned to face the crew.  Once again his crew.

 

            “Mister Kane, man battlestations.  Let’s see if we can’t make a difference.”

 

            Q closed her eyes, as if in subdued agony.  But as Kane responded, “Aye, aye, Skipper,” she resolutely got up with the others to man her station.

 

*          *          *          *

 

            “The ship is at battlestations,” Kane reported as Koester walked out of the ready room and sat in the command chair.

 

            “ETA to Wolf 359, 10 minutes, Captain,” Othello reported.  The expression on his face was a near mirror of Commander Q’s.

 

            “Very well,” Koester said with a nod.  He looked around at those surrounding him on the bridge.  Bloom and Johnson manned the Engineering console.  K’danz and Lt(JG) Shoff 187 were at the security station.  Various other crew members monitored the aft consoles under the watchful eyes of Chief Kyman, while Ga’gh took position at the tactical panel directly behind Koester and Kane’s seats.  To the Fleet Captain’s right sat Counselor Sutherland, her concentration evident on her face as she dealt with the emotional overload present on the ship.  Q maintained her watch on the sensors at sciences, Kalin Kale standing at her side, his eyes darting from monitor to monitor.  Russell and Natchez looked on from ops.  And finally Othello, who piloted the starship toward history.

 

            On the screen, the crew could see other starships converging and joining formation to intercept the malevolent cube that was nearing.  Kane could recognize the Kyushu, the Melbourne, and the Chekov.  Further away was the squat form of the Saratoga, the ship he knew later-Captain Benjamin Sisko of Deep Space Nine to be the First Officer of.  And then, at distant range, barely outrunning the enormous cube trailing it, the Excelsior-class USS Righteous.

 

            In the mixture of chaos and preparation that accompanied the armada’s interception of the Borg, no other ships inquired where the Dauntless had come from nor why they did not recognize its class when Koester announced his ship’s readiness with the rest.

 

            As the Dauntless and the rest of the armada neared the cube, the Borg vessel dropped out of warp, almost regarding the massed starships as a child would a set of toys.

 

            “Resistance is futile,” announced the image of Locutus over every ship’s viewscreen.  “You will disarm your weapons and escort us to Sector 0-0-1.  If you attempt to intervene, we will destroy you.”

 

            “This is Admiral Hanson,” said the voice of the Armada Commander over the subspace channels.  “We have to stop the Borg here!  All ships, attack formations.  Engage the enemy.”

 

            Immediately all the ships opened fire with phasers and photon torpedoes.  Starship after starship turned toward and attacked the oncoming interloper.  Even the Dauntless made a close approach, phasers scorching a path along the side of the box-shaped vessel.

 

            It seemed at first as if the Borg were simply going to ignore the Starfleet ships.  It sat there, taking the punishment the forty vessels inflicted on it.  Large chunks of the Borg cube were blasted away, but it soon became obvious the damage was superficial.  It quickly regenerated.

 

            And then the Borg retaliated.

 

            Tractor beams lanced out from the cube, latching onto two of the closest starships, holding them motionless.  Laser beams shot out like razors, cutting into the hulls of the helpless ships, slicing their saucer sections like pies.

 

            The Melbourne turned to attack, leading the charge as the Zhukov and Bellerephon maneuvered to follow.  Melbourne was quickly captured by a new tractor emitted from the cube, a laser slicing into the hull and destroying the entire forward half of the ship.  Leaving it powerless, the cube simply pushed past the engineering hull.  Now was the Saratoga’s attack run.

 

            The Dauntless maneuvered in for another strike, taking blows from the Borg as it did.  The bridge crew watched as on the screen the Saratoga was stopped dead in space by another tractor beam.  The Miranda-class ship took a number of hits to the lower hull, and it was obvious to everyone that she did not have much longer to survive.  Almost immediately shuttles launched from the hanger bays and escape pods started ejecting from hidden hatches in the hull.  Within a few short minutes, one final strike by a Borg weapon breached the warp core, and the Saratoga exploded like a small supernova.  Sgt Christopher ‘Olly’ O’Laughlin had never seen nor even dreamt anything like this - Not in his worst nightmares.  The Dauntless was beginning to come apart around him and there was nothing he could do to stop it.  “The feeling of being powerless is the worst moment of hell for a man of action.”  The quote was from one of McIntyre’s books, and it kept going through the Sergeant’s head, driving home the frustration he felt.  Most of the contingent’s Marines had been relieved of their repel boarders posts to help with damage control or carry the wounded to sickbay.  Olly had just made his fifth trip, and was heading back to his assigned post when yet another explosion rocked the ship.  At the same instant, an energy conduit running along the passage overloaded and blew fragments of plastisteel and conduit insulation material across the corridor, starting a number of small fires as it did.  The force of the blast knocked the sergeant back a few paces and he covered his face in reaction to the shrapnel.  When he looked up he saw a door to a set of quarters along the outer hull had been blown open and the Borg Cube filled his view.  It was too much for him.

 

            “Dammit!” he cursed.  “I spent twenty-years dodging bullets and bombs and other soldiers and then I learned to do it all over again with the Buck Rogers little Starwars lasers and aliens and landing craft that make a blind cow puke both lunches and now I’m going to buy the damn farm because some alien building block is going to blow my ship right out from under me!!  Why don’t you half-human, collective little freaks get over here and let ol’ Sarge show you what he thinks of that!  That’s when he heard the moans for help coming from inside the quarters.  His rage somewhat abated by the outburst, he went to the young woman laying injured on the floor.  The Sarge quietly scooped her up, saying, “Not to worry little lady, everything will be just fine now.  Olly’s got ya.”  Then with a last burning look at the Cube, Sgt O’Laughlin began yet another trip to the ship’s sickbay.  Dauntless turned for another pass on the Borg ship, followed closely by the Righteous.  Two tractors shot out, one at each vessel, but the Borg plan was only half successful.  While holding firmly onto the Righteous, the Borg tractor beam could not take hold of the Dauntless, its shield nutations having been designed years after and based upon this very battle for just such an occurrence.  The shields had worked against the Borg at the battle of Sector 0-0-1, they worked here just as well. 

 

            Down in engineering, various members of the engineering staff scrambled around under the guidance of Xenon Adosh, keeping the severely overloaded systems operating.

 

            “Warp core is at peak output, Lieutenant,” Kyle Sutherland reported.

 

            “Good.  Keep the mains on line.  We can’t afford to lose power, now more than ever,” Adosh ordered.

 

            But who knows how long we’ll last either way, Adosh thought to himself as the air filled with the smell of ozone as consoles started sizzling on the upper engineering level.  “Taking hits from the Borg weapons,” Ga’gh shouted above the shudders and bangs of the hull.  He called up another display on his tactical panel.  “Shield nutation is holding, but shields are down to 50%.  The Borg ship is regenerating faster than our shields are.”

 

            “We can’t take much more a’this, Cap’n!” Russell exclaimed.

 

            “Mister Ga’gh,” said Koester.  “Ready quantum torpedoes!”

 

            As Ga’gh readied the new weapon, which had not even been invented at the time of this battle, the crew watched another Borg weapons strike blow the Righteous out of space.  In sickbay, the door barely had time to close as a constant flow of injuries, from minor cuts and scratches to broken bones and major lacerations, were helped into the room.

 

            “We cannot help all these people here!” Dr Dourden complained as he watched Sgt O’Laughlin carry another badly injured woman into the room and place her on a diagnostic bed another patient had just been lead away from.  “And ever more come!”  The ship shuddered severely again.

 

            “Nurse,” the doctor said.  “Meseems only ill can come of this.  Start moving the most stable of the injured toward the escape pods.  I shall remain here.”

 

            “Yes, Doctor,” the nurse said.  Dourden watched for a moment as the nurse enlisted the aid of a few of the Marines present and started moving people out of Sickbay and toward the escape stations.  He was about to return to the next patient when a sudden thought struck him.

 

            Grabbing an isolinear chip from a nearby storage drawer, he stuck it into the closest computer slot.

 

            “Surely I shall later regret this,” he mumbled to himself, then said, “Computer, copy and store program Omega-1H on this chip.”  The computer quickly complied.  Dourden removed the chip, placing it into a tricorder, and stuck the tricorder into the holster on his hip.

 

            “Whose turn is next?” he called out.

 

            On the bridge, things were not much more optimistic.

 

            “We’re not making much of an impact, Skipper,” Kane commented.

 

            “To be honest...,” Koester started to say when a sudden impact threw him out of his chair.

 

            “Shields down to 27%!” Ga’gh reported.

 

            As Koester climbed back into the command chair, he continued, “As I was saying, to be honest, I didn’t hold much hope we would.  Fire torpedoes!”

 

            “Skipper,” said Kane.  “We’ve fought the Borg before, just last year.  We survived three major skirmishes against a Cube much like this one.  Why are we taking such a pounding this time?”

 

            “I can only assume it’s because last year the entire fleet had the upgraded shields and weapons we have.  This time it’s us and a fleet of older starships against a Borg vessel already adapted to Starfleet’s current defenses.”

 

            “Cap’n,” Russell shouted.  “Sickbay reports they’re gettin’ casualty reports from all ova th’ ship.  They’re gettin’ a might bit ovaloaded down theah.”

 

            “Kethry, Q, report to sickbay.  Do what you can to help.”

 

            The Counselor and science officer, both of whom held medical degrees, nodded and quickly left the bridge.  Kale seemed about to follow, then stopped halfway to the turbolift, choosing instead to remain on the bridge, helping Lt Ga’gh at the tactical post.

 

            The ship shook violently again as a combination of the Borg weapons and debris from wrecked starships collided with the shields.

 

            “Skipper, I think it’s time we powered up the experimental weapon!” Kane suggested.  Koester hesitated a moment, confused, before Kane added, “The new phaser they installed during our lay-up at DS9.  It was designed for fighting the Borg!”

 

            Immediately the information clicked in Koester’s memory as he recalled reading about the new Temporal Phaser Array in Ben Sisko’s office.  A weapon which caused damage the Borg could not simply regenerate.  He also remembered the experimental weapon’s limiting factor.

 

            “Our shields are down to...?” he glanced over his shoulder.

 

            “21%,” offered Kale as Ga’gh struggled to keep the defenses on line.

 

            “...to 21%.  In order to power up the Temporal Phaser, we’re going to have to drop shields!”

 

            Kane looked squarely at Koester.

 

            “Do we really have a choice, Skipper?”

 

            Koester shook his head.  “No, Exec.”

 

            The Fleet Captain stood and walked to the center of the bridge where the whole crew could see him as he said, “It’s been a privilege serving with you all.  Mister Ga’gh, on my mark, drop shields and power up the Temporal Phaser Array.  Prepare to fire immediately.”

 

            Ga’gh pressed a few buttons on his panel, located in the center of the rail directly behind the command seats, then looked up at Koester.

 

            “Ready, Sir.”

 

            Othello maneuvered the Dauntless to face the oncoming Borg ship.  The cube approached like an animal slowly stalking its prey.

 

            “.......Mark!”

 

            With unnatural speed, Ga’gh quickly dropped the few remaining shields, rerouting all non-vital power to the recently installed weapon.  Lighting all over the ship dimmed and all non-essential functions went off-line.  But dropping the shields made the Dauntless a beacon to the Borg ship.  Immediately a tractor beam locked onto the Intrepid-class vessel.

 

            “Status?” Koester demanded.

 

            “Powering up, Captain.  68% and rising.”

 

            “We’ah bein’ drawn to-wad the Bowg ship,” Russell announced urgently.

 

            “All stations, standby!” Koester ordered.

 

            Seconds ticked by....  2... 3... 4...

 

            “Phaser array is energized!” Ga’gh reported.

 

            Koester gazed for a split-second at the viewscreen.

 

            “Fire!”

 

            The phaser array on the lower side of the saucer glowed a dull violet, then the energy burst forth, heading straight for the Borg Cube.  At the same moment, the Borg shot an energy beam straight at the Dauntless.  The two beams met in mid-strike, but it soon became obvious, due to the ship’s reduced energy status, the Borg weapon would overpower the Temporal Phaser.

 

            “Captain, we’re getting an energy backlash through the array!” Ga’gh shouted as consoles and panels on the Bridge sparked and flamed.

 

            “We’re ovaloadin’ !” Russell exclaimed.  “Systems are goin’ down all ova th’ ship!”

 

            Koester and Kane suddenly looked to their left as the science console exploded, sending debris across the entire bridge.  Kalin Kale reached up to where his cheek suddenly stung and found blood flowing onto his hand.

 

            Fleet Captain Peter J. Koester saw, for perhaps the first time, that his ship was coming apart.  Reluctantly, he pressed the intercom control by his seat.

 

            “All hands, this is the bridge.  Abandon ship!  I repeat, all hands to the escape pods.”  But by then it was too late.

 

            The Borg weapon finally completely overpowered the Temporal Phaser Array and struck like a cobra.  The Dauntless was quickly engulfed in the resulting explosion.

 

*          *          *          *

 

Stardate 51767.1 - Sector 137

 

            When Starfleet had lost contact with the USS Dauntless and the ship was listed as two days overdue, and knowing the vessel had been en route to Vulcan to transfer Captain Kalin Kale, Command sent the USS Tian An Men out to investigate.  Captain Lyle Richardson sat in the center seat of the Miranda-class ship.

 

            “Anything on sensors?” the captain asked his operations manager.

 

            The thin, dark-skinned woman sitting at ops turned to look at the captain and said, “No, sir.  Nothing.”

 

            Richardson sighed, then ordered, “Keep scanning.”

 

            Captain Richardson started musing to himself.  Ever since he had first heard the name Kalin Kale, it appeared trouble always seemed to follow.  He had lost the Sarek and his original First Officer to Kale four years earlier.  Now Kale had been placed in temporary command of another starship and that ship had disappeared without a trace.

 

            They continued their search for hours, no signs of the missing starship, until Richardson’s tactical officer called for his attention.

 

            “Captain, sensors just recorded what appears to be a large explosion two light years back along our course.  There was nothing in the sector until sensors detected the explosion.”

 

            “Helm, reverse course,” Richardson ordered.  “Maximum speed.  I have a bad feeling about this.”

 

            The Tian An Men quickly turned 180 degrees and warped back along its original course.

 

            “Anything on sensors?” Richardson asked.

 

            “No, Captain, I’m not...,” the tactical officer’s voice trailed off for an instant.  Then, “Captain, we’re receiving an automated distress signal now.”  Richardson got up and walked toward tactical as the officer continued, “Sir, it’s the Dauntless.”

 

            Tian An Men streaked back to the coordinates where the explosion and distress call had originated.  The sight that greeted them there shocked even the most experienced officer on the bridge.

 

            Before them drifted what could only be described as the wreckage of the Dauntless.  The hulk was powerless.  It’s warp engines blackened.  Hull pitted, scarred, and open to vacuum in many places.  Plasma fires burned in charred openings.  One impulse engine was blown apart.  The main phaser arrays all but completely gone.  And one of the landing legs, never once deployed in the life of the ship, hung loosely in zero gravity below the engineering hull.  Even the name DAUNTLESS could not be read through the burn marks on the upper main hull.  Escape pods drifted around the wreck, a few even launching as the Tian An Men closed distance.

 

            “Holy sh...,” Richardson started to say before catching himself.  “Survivors?”

 

            “I’m not sure how, sir, but I’m reading life signs aboard.  And we’re going to need to get them out of there quickly.  Sensors are registering a failure in the core containment system that will destroy the ship in less than ten minutes.”

 

            Richardson pressed the intercom on his chair’s arm.  “Emergency medical teams assemble in the transporter rooms.  Sickbay, standby to beam survivors aboard.  Lock tractors on the escape pods and bring them into the shuttlebays.  Now!”

 

*          *         *          *

 

            Koester slowly opened his eyes.  He found himself laying on the deck.  Smoke filled the air from the charred and burning consoles around the entire bridge, choking his lungs.  Bodies were strewn everywhere amidst the wreckage.  The Fleet Captain half turned over, looking toward the command seats.  He could see Chief Kyman laying motionless on the upper deck and Lt Ga’gh hanging over the railing by the tactical post, also seemingly lifeless.  Kane, the First Officer, was slumped across the center panel between the command seats, the monitor screen mounted there broken away by the force of the Exec’s thrown body.

 

            Koester rubbed his hand across his moist forehead to wipe away the sweat running into his eyes, finding it smeared with blood instead as he drew it away.  He slowly shook his head.

 

            “Containment field failure,” announced the voice of the computer.  “Warp core breach in three minutes.”

 

            Koester turned over again, looking up at the viewscreen, which crackled with static.  Through the distortion he could just barely see various life pods moving away from the ship, and dimly in the background, the vague outline of a Miranda-class vessel.  Koester smiled to himself.  “At least most of the crew is safe,” he muttered.

 

            The Fleet Captain rolled his head, and that is when he noticed the phaser laying on the deck next to him, where it apparently landed after being tossed from Ga’gh’s holster.  Finding the last reserved strength within, he picked up the phaser, setting the power level to 9.  That should do the job, he thought.  He looked up and started crawling toward the shattered remains of where the science console was located.  Halfway to the bulkhead, he raised the phaser and pressed the trigger.  The beam shot out, striking the wall around the smoke-blackened plaque attached there.  Quickly, the ship’s dedication plaque fell to the deck with a thunk.

 

            “Containment field failure.  Warp core breach in two minutes.”

 

            Koester dropped the phaser to the deck, crawling the remainder of the short distance to where the brass plaque had dropped face down.  He grasped the plaque, holding it up to read the words one more time as he leaned his head back against the wall.

 

U.S.S. DAUNTLESS

Intrepid-class * Second Starship to Bear the Name

Registry Number NCC-74658 * Launched Stardate 49368.4

 

            He clutched the plaque, holding the words to his chest.

 

            “Containment field failure.  Warp core breach in one minute.”

 

            “Time to sleep, girl,” Koester whispered to the dying starship around him.  Koester closed his eyes.  Time indeed to go to sleep for a long time.

 

            Funny, he thought to himself as he drifted off.  Death kind of feels like a transporter field.

 

*          *          *          *

 

            “Status?” Richardson demanded anxiously.

 

            “All shuttles and life pods have been retrieved and stowed in the landing bays.  And sir, I’m reading a warp core breach in progress,” the operations officer reported.  “Twenty seconds until the Dauntless experiences total containment failure.”

 

            “Come on, hurry up!” Richardson urged.

 

            “Ten seconds.”

 

            “Bridge, transporter room..  We’ve got ‘em all!”

 

            “Helm, get us out of here!”

 

            The Tian An Men banked hard to port, impulse engines roaring to life.  Then once the light cruiser’s bow cleared the bearing of the stricken starship, the Tian An Men jumped into warp.

 

            Behind them, the hulk of the Dauntless drifted serenely.

 

            Then in a matter of milliseconds, she was consumed in the energy release of a hundred suns.

 

*          *          *          *

 

            Koester awoke with a start.  Without even opening his eyes he knew where he was.  The antiseptic smell could be nothing but a hospital.

 

            “Aw, hell,” he grumbled.  “I just got out of the hospital.”

 

            Koester finally opened his eyes and looked around.  He was laying on a bed in a fairly typical hospital room.  A diagnostic monitor bleeped above his head.  Across the room was a wall mounted monitor.  To his right large windows flooded the room with sunlight and a bright blue sky pockmarked by white, feathery clouds could be seen.

 

            Koester looked ceilingward and said, “Nurse.”

 

            Within moments, a nurse entered the room through the sliding doors off to his left.  She smiled at the Fleet Captain, helping him to sit up and adjusting the pillow behind his back, saying, “It’s good to see you awake, sir.  You had us a little worried for a day.  Your doctor will be in to see you momentarily.”

 

            Koester nodded, then sipped from a cup of water the nurse handed him.  The liquid burned his dry, smoke-parched throat.

 

            A moment later a male doctor in his late forties and an officer wearing captain’s pips walked in.  The nurse excused herself and left the room.

 

            “Where am I?” Koester asked.

 

            “You’re back on Earth, Captain.  San Francisco, to be exact,” the doctor responded.  “I’m Doctor Hatfield.  This is Captain Richardson of the USS Tian An Men, the ship that rescued your crew.”

 

            Richardson nodded at Koester, then shifted a wrapped bundle he held from one hand to the other.

 

            “You suffered from some smoke inhalation, minor burns and abrasions, and a concussion, Captain,” Dr. Hatfield said.  “You’ve been here resting for two days, but your prognosis is good.  You should be released within a week.”

 

            Koester smiled slightly, then asked, “How are my ship and crew?”

 

            Dr. Hatfield looked at Captain Richardson.  Richardson cleared his throat, then answered, “We managed to retrieve all the shuttles and lifepods, and beamed everyone else who remained aboard the Dauntless by their combadges.”  Koester released a held breath as the captain continued.  “There were seventy-three wounded.  And... twenty-five dead.”

 

            Koester looked away toward the window for a moment.  When he looked back, he asked, “Any of the Bridge crew?”

 

            Richardson nodded.

 

            “Commander Russell and Lieutenant Shoff were killed before the Tian An Men arrived.”

 

            “And my ship?” Koester whispered.

 

            Richardson took a step forward, handing the bundle he was carrying to the Fleet Captain.  As Koester began to unwrap it, the Captain said, “We found this clutched in your arms when we beamed you aboard.”

 

            Removing the last of the wrapping, Koester looked at the still soot-blackened face of his ship’s commissioning plaque.

 

            “That’s all that remains of the Dauntless, sir,” Richardson said quietly.

 

            Koester nodded.  The captain’s words only confirmed what he had suspected.  It did not ease the pain any.

 

            “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, sir, but it’s standard procedure.  Starfleet Command will be convening a court-martial in the loss of the Dauntless.”

 

            Koester nodded again silently.  And as the doctor and Richardson excused themselves and quietly left the room, Koester clutched the plaque to his chest once more, and a tear ran down his cheek.

 

*          *          *          *

 

            Kalin Kale sat in the chair in his hospital room, staring out the window at the city of San Francisco that spread out far below him.  His face and arm were bandaged, but that did not stop him from turning to look when he heard the knock at the door.

 

            “Come,” he said.

 

            Captain Lyal Richardson and his First Officer, Commander Jade Nakajima walked in, the captain smiling as he saw Kale was not too badly injured, and making a distinct point not to offer a handshake.

 

            “How are you feeling, Kalin?”

 

            “Well, despite the burns, cuts, and bruises, surprisingly good I guess,” Kale smiled back. 

 

            Richardson started shaking his head in mild amusement.

 

            “You know, everywhere you go, trouble seems to follow,” Richardson said.

 

            Kale laughed softly.  Then his face turned disturbed as he asked, “Is the casualty list rumor I’m hearing true?”

 

            “I’m afraid so, Kalin,” Richardson nodded.  “Twenty-five dead, seventy-three wounded, about twenty of those critically.  Most, like you, will be out of the hospital in less than a week.”

 

            Kale nodded.  A sad smile appeared momentarily on his face.

 

            “It’s really a miracle anyone survived,” Richardson concluded.

 

            Kale agreed, then his thoughts drifted to his next priority.

 

            “What about Tig... What about Commander Q?”

 

            “She’s fine.  A few scratches.  But from what I understand, she’s very lucky Fleet Captain Koester sent her to sickbay.  Had anyone been sitting at the science console when it blew, they’d have been killed instantly.”

 

            Kale sighed in relief.

 

            “She asked me to pass on a message to you,” Richardson added.  “She said she’ll be around to visit you soon, once you feel a little better.”

 

*          *          *          *

 

            Four days later, Kale dressed into a new uniform, carefully packed up his few remaining belongings in a duffel bag with the padd which held his latest orders; to Fleetyards, Vulcan to oversee final assembly of the new starship Illustrious.  From there; deep-space duty.  He checked out of the hospital, and as he passed through the lobby he found Q sitting there waiting for him.  She hugged him tightly, saying, “I’m glad you made it out alive.”

 

            The two started walking out into the bright sunlight.  As they did, Q said, “I’m sorry.  This was all my fault.”

 

            “How so?  And what did Q want with your symbiont anyway?  Why did he do this?” Kale asked.

 

            Q lead the captain over to a nearby bench overlooking a park built outside the hospital.  “I don’t think anyone will ever know why the Q do the things they do.  However, there is something else happening that I need to talk to you about,” she said.  She looked into his eyes, an expression of sadness in her own.  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to say goodbye again.”

 

            Kale’s expression quickly changed from shock, through anger, to sadness.  “But Tigger, I’m getting a new assignment.  Eventually I’m going back out to the fleet, to where I belong.  Aboard a starship.  I was hoping you’d consider transferring with me.”  Q slowly shook her head.  Haltingly, Kale asked, “Is there something I did wrong?”

 

            “It’s not that there’s anything wrong with you,” Q said.  “Like all those years ago, I’ve been forced to realize that it couldn’t work between us for very long.  The passions we shared then, and now, will eventually ebb.  There’s too much about me you don’t know, and can’t know, that has too much potential to hurt us both in the long run.  It would put more distance between us than the stars ever could.  This way we can remain friends.”

 

            “But Tigger, I...,” Kale started to say when Q shushed him.

 

            “Don’t say it,” she asked.  “I’ve found I can’t.”

 

            Despite how much it hurt, Kale knew in his heart she was right.  He had always sensed there was a part of herself Q was hiding from him.  Now he was sure.  And though he would probably never know what it was, it did not make things any easier.

 

            “I owed it to you to tell you face to face this time,” she added.  “I couldn’t just walk away, especially since this time it has been my choice.”

 

            She drew Kale into an embrace and felt a tear roll down the back of her neck.

 

            “I will say this, Kalin,” she whispered.  “It was fun.”

 

            In spite of his mood, he could not help but laugh a little at that remark.  They released each other and she kissed him softly on the lips.

 

            “Will you be alright?” Kale asked her.

 

            Q nodded and said, “I’ve got someone close who understands me pretty well.  Generally keeps me in line.  And besides, I think he’d be a little lost without me around.”

 

            Kale nodded.  As he stood up his expression became one of sadness mixed with acceptance.

 

            “I’ll see you around the galaxy, Tigger,” he said, and blew her one last kiss.  She nodded.  Then Kale tapped his combadge and said, “Kale to Spacedock.  One to beam up.”  He smiled faintly at Q, then finally said, “Energize.”  Seconds later he faded from view.

 

            Q’s expression then turned very angry.

 

            “First, let’s make one point absolutely clear; What I did wasn’t for your benefit,” she said slowly and forcefully.

 

            “Now, now,” Q said as he appeared behind the bench in back of Q.  She refused to turn to look at him.  “All good things must come to an end...  Even when they aren’t all that good.”

 

            “I ended it because I finally realized he wouldn’t have been able to handle the truth,” she said, ignoring Q ‘s last remark.  “I couldn’t go any further without telling him, and if I had told him he would have left on his own anyway and I’d have lost his friendship as well.”

 

            “A bit of a species snob, huh?  Certainly wasn’t a prude.”

 

            “Somebody shut this guy up before I kill him!” Q shouted into the air.

 

            “Oh, that reminds me,” Q said.  “Congratulations on you and Q getting your powers back... In spite of my objections.  You know if the ship had simply returned to its proper time as I’d predicted, you’d still be a mortal today.  Apparently the Continuum took pity on you.”

 

            Q finally turned and glared at Q, saying, “Leave me alone!”

 

            “Temper, temper, Q, or you might...,” Q managed to say just before he suddenly found himself disappearing to who knows where.  Q blew the tip of her finger like a smoking gun barrel and smiled with some satisfaction.  Then standing, she kissed the palm of her hand, smacked it against the seat of her pants and disappeared in her own flash.

 

*          *          *          *

 

Stardate 51837.9 – Starfleet Command Headquarters

 

            “Would the defendant please rise.”

 

            Fleet Captain Koester stood, his Fleet appointed attorney, Lt Commander Fleming, and his legal aide, Petty Officer Mudd, another member of the former Dauntless crew, standing on either side of him.  Koester looked calmly at the three tribunal judges, a commodore and two admirals.

 

            The court-martial had been fairly standard.  The evidence included recordings of the starship’s logs automatically transmitted when the ‘Abandon Ship’ order had been made as well as testimony from the vessel’s senior officers, Chief Kyman and Captain Kale.  The only part that worried and depressed Koester was the fact that even if acquitted of all charges, he would likely spend an extended time behind a desk before ever being given command of a starship again, if ever.

 

            “After nine days of testimony looking into the matter of the loss of the starship USS Dauntless NCC-74658,” the tribunal president said, “we find the defendant, Fleet Captain Peter J. Koester, Commanding Officer of the starship Dauntless at the time of its loss...”  The admiral hesitated a moment.  “...Not guilty due to extenuating circumstances.”

 

            Koester broke into a huge smile, turning and shaking Commander Fleming and Petty Officer Mudd’s hands.  A murmur of approval ran through the crowd in the hearing room, mostly the former Dauntless crew.  Commander Virgil Kane and Chief Kyman leaned over the rail and patted Koester on the back.

 

            “It is hereby ordered by Starfleet Command,” continued the Admiral, “that the events surrounding the destruction of the USS Dauntless be classified, level White.”  The Admiral handed the court clerk a padd, which the young lieutenant then handed to Koester.  “This court-martial is concluded.  Good luck on your next assignment, Fleet Captain.”

 

            “Thank you, sirs,” Koester said as he turned to start to leave the room, returning handshakes all the way to the door.  When he finally got out of the room, his arm sore from the multitude of congratulations, he stepped into a nearby lounge and closed and locked the door behind him.  He looked at the padd in his hand, weighing all the possibilities in his mind.  He then stared out the window.  The Admiralty Building was located close to the shore of San Francisco’s peninsula, and the Golden Gate Bridge, Alcatraz Island and the grounds of the Presidio were all clearly visible far below.

 

            “Congratulations, Pooh-Bear,” Q said, not quite startling the Fleet Captain with her sudden appearance.  Koester smiled as he turned to face her, then quickly engulfed the petite woman in a huge hug.

 

            “Sorry I couldn’t get together with you sooner,” she apologized.  “I’ve had a lot of loose ends to tie up since we got back.”

 

            “That was quite an adventure we had,” he said.  “I assume you had something to do with the ship getting back to the here and now and then surviving long enough for us to be rescued?”

 

            Q shook her head as she said, “Actually, the Continuum left me powerless.  Q figured he needed to teach me a lesson.  Near as I can figure, based on analysis of some of the surviving sensor tapes, the backlash of the Temporal Phaser is what brought us back home.  I had been studying those things for three days before I realized I was all me again, if you know what I mean?”

 

            Koester invited Q to sit on the nearby couch and sat down next to her.

 

            “So why did Q do it all anyway?” he asked.

 

            Q rolled her eyes as she answered, “He didn’t like who I was getting myself involved with.  Said he was... distracting me...”

 

            “I see.  I noticed you and Captain Kale got to be quite close... Again,” he added.

 

            “It had its moments, but it couldn’t have lasted.  You of all people should understand why?  But at least we parted as friends.  So what about you?  I haven’t had the chance to ask about Joanne since you’ve been back?  We’ve all been so busy.  You returned so much sooner than anyone expected, did something happen?”

 

            Koester hesitated a moment, then finally admitted, “Too many career conflicts.  Both of us with the possibility of disappearing at any time and being away for years...  Neither willing to give up the jobs we love...  Pretty much a repeat of the first time.  Like you and Kale, we decided to remain friends.  Though this time we’ve promised to keep in touch with one another.”

 

            “I see” Q echoed.

 

            “So, have you looked at your new orders yet?” Koester asked after a brief moment of silence.

 

            Q shook her head, saying, “No.  You?”

 

            “Not yet.”

 

            “Well, go ahead.”

 

            “No, you first,” he insisted.

 

            “Tell you what,” she suggested.  “Together on three.”  When he smiled and nodded, she started counting, “One...  Two... Three!”

 

            Both pressed the button on their padd simultaneously, and Koester started reading his off first.

 

            “Effective immediately, you are authorized two months recuperative and recreational leave...”

 

            “...Then report no later than stardate 52002.5 to Fleetyards, Vulcan...,” Q continued.  She looked up at Koester.

 

            “...Where you will report aboard Naval Construction Contract-75310!”

 

            Both officer’s broke out into huge smiles and hugged each other tightly.

 

            When the hug ended, the two sat in silence for a moment, smiling slightly awkward smiles at one another, until Koester finally asked, “Did you have anything to do with this?”  Q simply gave him a mischievous smile and shrugged.  “Fine.  So, are you doing anything for dinner tonight?”

 

            “Oh, I’m sorry, Pooh.  I have plans,” she said apologetically.  “I promised Jeff I’d have dinner with him.  He was persistent in asking me the whole time you were gone.  It only seemed fair I should have dinner with him after blowing him off for so many weeks.”

 

            “I see,” Koester said once more, a hint of disappointment clouding his features.

 

            Q let another moment pass, then hinted, “But I’m free all day tomorrow.”

 

            Koester started to smile, when suddenly Q leaned forward and drew him into a deep passionate kiss.  The move took him by surprise, but he did not fight it.  When it ended a few moments later, Q stood up and started to say goodbye.

 

            “What was that for?” Koester asked with a silly grin on his face.

 

            Q smiled and said, “Because I felt like it.  And we needed it.”

 

            Koester shook his head and added, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted to swallow me whole.”

 

            Q looked at him over her shoulder as she started to head for the door, gave Koester a grin, and said, “What makes you think you know better?”

 

            As the door shut behind her, Koester shook his head slowly and laughed to himself, then returned with a smile to gazing out at the scenery below.

 

*          *          *          *

 

Captain’s log, stardate 51838.2:  Final log entry;

I’m about to begin the two months leave Starfleet has authorized me and my crew.  Much of it will be spent traveling around Earth with Commander Q and my daughter, Gem.  But we have something more important to do before that starts.  Today we say goodbye to twenty-five of our brave shipmates, their lives lost during, strange as this sounds, the Battle of Wolf 359.  Their names will soon be added to the memorial at Starfleet Academy.  They died with courage and devotion to their duty, and it was an honor to serve with them.

In two months, my crew and I report to Starfleet Yards, Vulcan, where a new ship, hull number NCC-75310, is taking shape.  From the point at which we report, it will still take about three months before she’s launched, but on that day it will again be my great pleasure to command the starship Dauntless.

 

The newest starship Dauntless.

 

I look forward to the day I get to take her out again.

Fleet Captain Peter J. Koester,

Commander, the late Federation starship Dauntless, out.

 

 

The End

 

Author’s Note:  Some additional battle scene material written by Kevin Fossett.

 

Return to 2374.

 

Return to Stories Archive.