“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.
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