Star Trek: “Links in the Chain” (continued)

“Captain,” 1011 interrupted. “We are receiving a transmission.”

Christopher responded with a surprised scowl. “Let’s hear it.”

What sounded like a garbled series of squawks sounded over the communications system before the universal translator took over.

“”.

“It doesn’t sound like they want us here,” Onbro suggested with forced humor.

“No,” Christopher agreed, “they don’t.” He turned his head slightly in the direction of Leshann’s station. “Are you almost done with that scan?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied. “A few more seconds.” She checked the readouts again before continuing. “So far, we’re detecting no Romulan energy signatures.”

Christopher nodded slowly. “Good news at last,” he commented quietly. “Finish it up. Helm, take us to the next one.”

Onbro’s hands played over the surface of his console as he adjusted the ship’s heading.

“Done, sir,” Leshann reported.

“Perfect timing,” Christopher said. “Helm, half impulse.”

They had traveled about the half the distance to the second moon when alerts sounded from both Leshann’s and Ba’neth’s stations.

“Captain,” Ba’neth called out first. “I’m reading three vessels on an intercept course.”

Christopher began to turn toward her, but paused as Leshann added her own report.

“The drive signatures appear to be Orion, Captain.”

“This little survey mission just keeps getting better and better,” Christopher remarked to no one in particular. “Full power to shields. Bring weapons to active status.” He took a long, slow and deep breath that sounded to Leshann like a sigh. “Red Alert.”

Around the bridge, klaxons began to sound and the lighting shifted to bright crimson. Leshann could hear readiness reports coming in from stations throughout the ship.

“They’re powering weapons, Captain,” Ba’neth reported. Her voice was now steady, ready and trained for this.

“Hold our fire, Lieutenant,” Christopher told her. “Let’s see what they’re up to.”

Star Trek: “Links in the Chain”

“Take us out of warp,” Captain Christopher said, with an easy calm. “Maintain Yellow Alert.”

“Yes, sir,” came Ba’neth’s response from the Tactical station.

Leshann thought she heard detected the quaver in the young woman’s voice. She would not be surprised, for she felt the tension herself. Their first tour of duty, intended to get the young officers accustomed to their roles and stations—after all, there was only so much that could be learned from simulations, drills, and training missions—before sending them out on their deep space assignment.

It had not quite worked out that way, as they had so far encountered a Gorn fleet, pockets of Orion Syndicate activity, and a deluded Klingon general intent on destroying the timeline in order to fulfill some kind of legendary destiny. Now, under secret orders that Captain Christopher had, as far she knew, discussed with no one, they were headed toward the borders of Romulan space.

The majority of the crew had been transferred, along with Captain Christopher, to the U.S.S. Coronado. The damage to the Arcadia had been reparable, but apparently had been unwilling to wait the two months before she was safely space-worthy again.

Her station chimed softly, signaling for her attention. Leshann checked the readings and then turned toward the command chair.

“We’re reading three moons in the system, Captain,” she reported. “According to our records, they all have Romulan designations--”

“All tongue-twisting pronunciations, I’m sure,” Christopher replied. His head was turned toward the main viewscreen, so Leshann could not tell whether he was amused or not.

“Onbro, take us past the nearest one, close enough for a complete sensor sweep.”

“Yes, sir.”

The helmsman’s crisp response—and lack of one of her usually cheery retorts—told Lehshann that the young Bolian ensign was also feeling the strain.

“Leshann,” Christopher continued, startling her from her momentary reverie. “I want a complete scan of the moon’s surface.” His eyes studied the image of the growing sphere of the first moon. “I’m told we should expect to find some mining activity. I want to know immediately if you find anything that even remotely doesn’t seem to be.”

“Yes, sir,” Leshann responded quickly. She turned her attention back toward her sensor readouts, wondering what the captain was expecting to find here.

Christopher’s eyes remained fixed on the viewscreen.

“Ba’neth,” he said, without turning. “Keep an eye out for anything unusual on the tactical sensors,” he instructed her. “Don’t hesitate to yell out if you spot anything. Those warbirds can uncloak on top of you before you know it.”

Ba’neth swallowed hard, but her voice sounded mostly steady. “Yes, sir.” Her hands worked the controls of her station, making sure that the weapon controls were ready and that she would be warned at the slightest variation in the tactical sensor readings.

“Beginning close orbit,” Onbro called out, her voice uncharacteristically flat.

“One should be enough,” Christopher announced.

“Yes, sir.”

“Beginning surface scan,” Leshann reported, her gaze dancing quickly across the data readouts on her station.