The Rising of the Tide, Ch 1

[Captain Newland]

This is the first chapter of a story I've been working on for around a year. I think it's pretty good so far, but I want to know what other people think, since I'm hoping to turn this into a published book someday (I'm 16 though; I've got plenty of time). Just a heads up: the names of the two new powers (the UED and Red Faction) are placeholders. I'm going to make up new ones later one I've finished the story. So, here it is.

From the surface of Beta Levo, it only looked as if an occasional but powerful bomb was detonating in low orbit, visible against the sunlight for only a fraction of a second. Every few minutes, another explosion would cause a ball of fire to bloom and then, like a failed attempt to light a candle, fizzle out of existence. That’s what it seemed like from the surface.

From the bridge of the UEDS Freedom, however, the vision was one of chaotic destruction. At the front of the bridge, a huge, raised view screen displayed the battle raging outside; weapons splashing against shields like water against a rock, fighters flitting like insects through the din, UED and Red Faction ships alike swallowing themselves in savage fireballs.

Captain Kowoltsky sat in the large chair near the back of the large rectangular command center, the lift doors behind him groaning open and shut as crew members raced in and out. Shoving black hair out of his face, Kowoltsky gave his full attention to the screen, which was displaying their opponent vainly attempting to target the Freedom with their heavier forward weapons. They were having very little success, however, and the strain on their engines was sucking power out of their other weapons, as Kowoltsky was hearing at least twice every 30 seconds from his tactical officer Lieutenant Schmidt, who sat in the middle of a staggered row of consoles which sat 2 meters in front of the forward wall.

“Lieutenant!” he called to Schmidt. “What is the status of the Intimidator?”

Schmidt took a quick look at his panel, and then reported. “Their shields are at 30%. They have some light hull damage, but nothing serious.”

Kowoltsky nodded, and returned his attention to the twisting Intimidator. The Red Faction tended to design their ships with heavy weapons in the front and weaker weapons covering all other areas. Nonetheless, their hull was dotted with gun turrets called siege guns, the numbers of which more than made up for their lack of power.

“Sir, our shields are down to 65%,” said Schmidt. “I recommend we fire a few shots from the ion cannon. Their shields are low enough that we may damage some of their systems, and then we can finish it.”

“Good thinking,” said Kowoltsky, nodding. “Lieutenant Mulskar, bring us around to their aft quarter. Ready with the ion cannon.”

“Aye, sir” said the alien pilot, making the appropriate course adjustments on his console.

The Freedom made one more pass around the Intimidator before coming to a stop directly behind it, its bow facing the main engines. After a short and tense pause, an electric blue bolt escaped the launcher, causing lightning bolts to snap and crackle across the yellow shields as they hit the Intimidator. After 3 shots, the shields of the ship seemed to sizzle out of existence and their engine’s white glow was extinguished.

Schmidt read the information on his console triumphantly. “It worked, captain. Their shields, engines, and their siege guns are down.”

A grin spread across Kowoltsky’s face. “Excellent work, both of you. Now, prepare a full complement of torpedoes. Destroy that ship.”

“With pleasure, sir,” said Schmidt, flipping several switches to load the torpedoes. “…Ready sir.”

Kowoltsky sat there, completely silent as he savored this moment. Another Red Faction craft was about to be blown to dust; its foolish, merciless, and traitorous crew would not live to kill another day.

“Fire!”

The switches ticked back to their original positions as two torpedoes flew from each of the Freedom’s six launchers. Trailing snakes of smoke, the torpedoes sped towards the Intimidator, and exploded with several brilliant flashes. The entire ship was engulfed in a curtain of hot flames, white-hot specks shooting in every direction. For a moment, it flailed about wildly, and then it detonated in a brilliant flash of light.

Kowoltsky breathed deeply as the explosion faded away. For a moment a heavy silence hung over the bridge, the crew watching the expanding cloud of debris twinkling as it sped apart.

“The Intimidator has been destroyed sir. No escape pods… nothing got away,” said Schmidt in a quietly victorious voice.

“Good,” said Kowoltsky, pleased. “Get us another target.”

“Yes, sir,” said Schmidt; scanning the map he had brought up on his console. “Sir, the Wrath is pounding the Allaris. I think we should assist.”

Kowoltsky said, “All right, target the Wrath. Are their shields weak enough for the ion cannon?”

“No sir,” said Schmidt. “They are at almost full power.”

Kowoltsky frowned. The commanding officer of the Wrath would not be as stupid as the Intimidator’s had been. They would have to use a little more cunning this time.

“Captain!” said Schmidt urgently. “I’m detecting two dreadnaughts incoming!”

Commander Briggs, the first officer of the Freedom, and Kowoltsky exchanged worried looks. Leviathans, the dreadnaughts spanned over 15 kilometers end-to-end and boasted the heaviest weapons ever invented in significant numbers, including the dreaded Nova cannons, or “starbusters” as the UED called them, which were capable of utterly devastating a planet with one shot, breaking the crust and causing any number of disasters to tear what was left of the planet apart. There was no way the UED fleet would be able to stand up to one, let alone two of the massive vessels even if the entire Red Faction fleet they were fighting was gone.

“We’ll be forced to retreat,” said Briggs, stating the painfully obvious.

“I know,” said Kowoltsky grimly. He knew what they Red Faction would do to the planet if they drove the UED fleet away, but there was no help for it. There was nothing they could do… not even escape.

“All right then,” said Kowoltsky finally. “We’ll give them everything we have. Schmidt, power down all siege weapons and the ion cannon. Divert all of that energy into the forward lasers and plasma weapons. Take some from the engines if you can. Mulskar, estimate their entry point, then bring us about to face it.”

Both officers acknowledged silently, making the appropriate adjustments. Tension on the silent bridge was terrible, pressing in like a giant vice. Each and every one of them knew that this was the end—of the battle as well as their lives. Kowoltsky’s chest burned with anger and regret that he would not live to see the day when the Red Faction was toppled, and with sadness at the thought of all those he would never see again.

Kowoltsky watched his screen as the Allaris, a mere transport ship, was demolished by the Wrath. Another pang of regret stabbed at his chest that they had not been able to help them, but then he remembered that helpless craft would have been destroyed anyway.

“They’re coming in captain!” yelled Schmidt, panicked.

The two behemoths shot out of warp, bringing with them an awesome amount of firepower. The rest of the UED fleet, which had also picked up the dreadnoughts, responded with a wave of multi-colored fire, but it would never have been enough.

“Fire! Everything we have!” cried Kowoltsky.

Bright yellow laser beams and green plasma bolts leapt from the Freedom, joining the assault of the others. 4 volleys escaped the vessel before the dreadnought responded to it, sending bolts from what could have been every weapon it possessed.

Kowoltsky watched as the weapons sped towards his ship. They had only a second to wait before the bright and deadly wall of energy engulfed them. The bridge quaked and groaned, threatening to tear itself to pieces. How it could handle all of the stress was anyone’s guess. Consoles were overloading left and right, and the crew was being thrown around like dolls. Kowoltsky himself was thrown from his chair and over the row of consoles in front of the command chair.

A blinding light filled the bridge, so bright that Kowoltsky’s eyes squinted reflexively even through his eyelids. He felt himself slam into the deck, pain surging through his body. Just before he blacked out a few seconds later, he noticed vaguely that the light had gone and that the deck was no longer shaking.

* * *
A lone, small Federation starship sped its way through warp, stars streaking by as it glided smoothly forward, the eerie blue glow emanating from the top of the warp nacelle leaving a ghostly but quicklt fading trail behind. The same held true for the group of impulse engines, dark red slits of light that emanated from where the engineering hull rose to meet the saucer section, and two on the aft section of the saucer, which itself resembled a triangle with rounded sides. A floodlight poured from the front of the oval bridge in the center of the triangle, illuminating the name “USS Majestic” printed in large black letters. Just underneath the name was the registration number, NCC-98076.

Captain Alec Drayson sat in the center chair of the vessel’s bridge, awaiting impatiently their arrival at Starbase 316. He was a tall, sinewy man with dark brown hair that sat in an almost reluctantly tame manner on his head.

Lieutenant Swanson stood over Tactical behind and to the left of the chair, and Science was the same on the right, and two seats sat less than half a meter on either side of Drayson, Commander Lewis who, compared to Drayson, was relatively short with a thin face, occupying the one to the left. Ops and helm flanked the central view screen, which was completely dark. Ensign Sanders, a young, light brown-haired youth of about 24 years, occupied the helm, tapping at his controls to make slight adjustments to their course and speed.

Drayson was eager to reach starbase 316 because a dear friend of his, Commodore Bonifaci, ran it, and he had not been able to talk to him for weeks, nor had he had any communication with his wife and children. Starfleet had not wanted them to break radio silence during the mission, which Drayson found ridiculous as the Romulans were already their allies—shaky allies, it was true, but they were on better relations than they had ever been in history.

Still, the mission had not been a total disappointment. Since it was a perfectly quiet mission, Drayson and Lewis had set up a small chess tournament for the crew and themselves. Drayson had come in 3rd out of 13th, having been beaten by Swanson in a suspenseful game that had ended with one fatal mistake on Drayson’s part. Though Drayson never played chess regularly, he was still quite good at it due simply to his general prowess at strategy and tactics. It was one of the areas where he had excelled in the Academy, and the reason he had gotten the USS Majestic, a small but powerful ship meant for combat. It was capable of doing light scientific work, but the main purpose was the defense of the Federation.

“Time to arrival at starbase 316?” Drayson asked as he went over the game between Swanson and himself in his head.

“45 minutes, sir,” said the man at the helm, Ensign Sanders. Sanders was a fair chess player himself, though he had only ranked 6th in the tournament.

Drayson let himself sink into his chair, which, at the moment, felt quite comfortable.

“A little reminiscing, captain?” asked his first officer Lewis, spotting the thoughtful look on Drayson’s face.

“Yes,” said Drayson pleasantly. “That cruise was relaxing. Not much to do.”

Lewis nodded, then frowned. “I thought it was a little quiet myself.”

Drayson shrugged. “Well, I think I’d rather play chess on a board than against the Romulans.”

Though relations with the Romulans had improved greatly due to the actions of the Captain Picard many years ago, they were still not on the best of terms. The accidental death of one of their ambassadors during peace talks had not helped matters very much. The Romulans had actually closed down the talks for several weeks before Starfleet managed to convince them that it wasn’t an assassination.

Lewis did not reply to Drayson, and the bridge got very quiet except for the occasional “boop” of a console. The place was quite relaxed for a while, but then Swanson broke the silence.

“Sir, I’m picking up some kind of subspace disturbance at coordinates 345 mark 24.”

Drayson sighed, looking at Lewis. “Vacation’s over,” he said. “What do you say? Should we delay our visit to the starbase?”

Lewis nodded. “I think they can wait another 20 minutes for us.”

“Agreed," said Drayson, turning his attention to Sanders. “Helm, set a course for the disturbance. Maintain our current speed.”

“Aye sir,” Sanders nodded.

The small ship rotated downwards smoothly in warp, and continued in a straight line for 5 minutes, then dropped out of warp, the stars outside returning to their normal dot-shaped forms. In front of the ship sat a flat, oval-shaped cloud of some swirling, eerie blue substance. The anomaly was huge, dwarfing the Majestic by many, many times.

“Science, analyze,” said Drayson.

“I’m not sure,” said the woman at science. “It looks very unstable, but it won’t be that way for very long.”

Lewis craned his neck to look at the officer. “What do you mean?”

“It’s getting more stable by the minute, sir” said the lieutenant JG, looking puzzled.

Drayson looked over the officer’s shoulder at the display, which showed an image of the…whatever it was. “Does it match any known description?” He asked, somehow feeling as though he’d seen this before.

She did a search, and the computer brought up a window that detailed an encounter between the Enterprise-D and a similar anomaly, which Drayson recognized instantly from an Academy class on subspace abnormalities. The Enterprise had left a probe at the mouth, but it collapsed in on itself less than a day after contact. Theoretically, that one had been caused by a huge build-up of energy on the other side.

“Hmm. If this anomaly is anything like the one the D encountered, we’d better be careful. There could be something very powerful on the other side,” said Drayson. He turned his attention to Sanders. “Helm, is it safe enough to travel through?”

Sanders turned around in his seat. “Yes, sir,” he said slowly. “But you’re not thinking of…”

“No, no, we aren’t going to go through now,” said Drayson, shaking his head. “We don’t have authorization, and we don’t know enough about it. I do want to know as much about it as possible for our report to Starfleet.”

“Aye sir,” nodded Sanders, turning back around and clearly relieved.

Drayson straightened and walked back his seat. “Swanson, prepare a class one probe. We’ll leave it here to monitor…”

“Sir, I recommend we stay,” interjected Swanson, speaking quickly.

Drayson looked at him curiously. “Why, lieutenant?”
“Something is coming through, sir.”

Drayson suddenly felt a little fidgety. “On screen.”

The screen lit up with the image of the wormhole. It was writhing and twisting as most anomalies like this did, but he thought he could make out a vague, shadowy specter in the middle.

“It appears to be a ship, sir,” said Swanson. “I can’t get specifics yet.”

They waited and watched as the ghostly object became larger and more defined. They could make out colors and a shape now. Two wings sprouted from the wide mid-section of the vessel stopping just short of passing the bow. The bow dissolved smoothly into the mid-section, and become consistently narrower as it continued forward, ending in a flat tip, and had a vertical rectangular depression down the middle that seemed to house some kind of weapon.

Finally, it emerged completely and began to tumble through space, venting something from its engines. It looked to be in pretty bad shape; Drayson could barely see the blue-white colors of the ship through all the scorch marks and hull breaches.

Drayson stared in wonder at the ship. “Can you tell who it comes from?”

“No sir,” said Swanson. “It doesn’t belong to any race we’ve yet contacted. I am picking up life signs, but only a few.”

“Can you tell what species?” asked Drayson.

“They appear to be human sir,” said Swanson.

Drayson started. “Human? How is that possible? We have never designed a ship like that before. How can they be human?”

“Sir,” cut in Lewis. “If the anomaly is like the one the Enterprise found, it could some kind of temporal wormhole.”

Drayson nodded. “That could be the case, but even if it’s going forward in time, don’t see why we would construct a ship so… crudely.”

“Perhaps the Federation has fallen in their time,” speculated Lewis apprehensively. It wasn’t a very pleasant thought.

“I suppose it’s possible,” said Drayson reluctantly. “Can we hail them?”

“No sir, their comm. system is dead,” said Swanson.

“Does it have breathable air?” asked Drayson, looking at the lieutenant at ops.

“Most of the ship is depressurized, captain,” said the officer. “The bridge is intact on the outside, but life support has failed. I’m reading only 15 minutes of breathable air left.”

“Very well.” Drayson tapped his comm. badge. “Dr. Moore, we have discovered a severely damaged vessel. I need you to get a medical team together and join Commander Lewis in transporter room 1 as quickly as you can. We have 15 minutes to explore the bridge of the ship.”

“Yes captain, I’m on my way.” Said the doctor. “Moore out.”

Drayson tapped his badge again, this time calling the Majestic’s chief engineer. “Drayson to Ellick.”

“Ellick here sir,” came the engineer’s voice. “Sir, I’m already aware of the situation, and I’ve got a team together.”

“Excellent, commander,” said Drayson. “Meet Commander Lewis and Doctor Moore in transporter room one.”

“Aye sir, we’re on our way,” said Ellick. “Ellick out.”

“He always has to be on top of everything,” said Lewis with a smile, standing up and heading for the turbolift door.


The door of the turbolift hissed open, and Lewis stepped out into the corridor. He took a right, then a left, and found himself facing the door to transporter room 1. Entering, he found both the medical and engineering teams waiting for him, phasers, tricorders, and flashlights at their waists.

“Doctor, chief,” he said with a nod, grabbing all of the equipment from an open equipment locker on the wall and fastened them to his belt, but not before setting the phaser to stun.

“Phasers on medium stun,” he said to the rest of the team, who all took their phasers out and dialed the setting up one level. They stepped up to the transporter pad, and the transporter operator punched in the coordinates.

“Ready for transport, sir,” he said, his fingers on the controls.
“Energize,” said Lewis.

The officer moved his hand up the console, and the bright blue, twinkling curtain of the transporter beam obscured Lewis’s vision. For a moment, it was all he could see, then a hole opened up in the middle, which grew steadily until the beam disappeared completely.

He and the away team were standing in pitch darkness. The air smelled strongly of smoke and ozone, making it difficult to breathe. Coughing, Lewis pulled out his flashlight and activated it, the beam revealing a totally pulverized bridge. Bulkheads and other hunks of metal littered the floor, some crushing the bodies of the officers who had worked on this bridge. The consoles seemed to have blown out from power surges, having scattered their operators with shrapnel, as was apparent from the mangled bodies of the crew. There was still smoke in the room, indicating that this had either happened a very short time ago, or that the ships ventilation systems didn’t work. Both seemed plausible.

“Spread out. I don’t think you’ll need those,” he said to a couple of the officers who had pulled out phasers. “Concentrate on finding anything alive in here.”

“Yes sir,” they mumbled, replacing their phasers.

Lewis moved towards what looked like the command chair, although with the bulkhead lying on it, he couldn’t really tell what it was. In front of it was a row of consoles, or what had been consoles, in an odd, de-tipped V formation. They had all been blown out from what had obviously been power surges. Whatever had attacked them had hit with lots of muscle.

Abandoning the chair, Lewis knelt beside one of the bodies lying near the row of consoles. He forced himself not to look away from the woman’s face as he checked for a pulse, assuming that it had been a console overloading that had, he discovered, killed her.

“Sir!” said Moore from in front of the consoles.

Lewis stood quickly, grateful that the doctor had called him away from the gruesome sight, and made his way around the console to see the doctor crouched over a stirring figure in a blue-white uniform. He groaned as he tried to sit up.

“Stay still,” said Moore urgently, scanning him with her medical tricorder. “You’ve got some internal injuries, as well as several broken bones.”

The man rolled slowly over onto his back. He didn’t seem to be injured on the outside, but looked as if he was in a considerable amount of pain. “Who are you?” he asked weakly, breathing heavily.

“We’re from the USS Majestic, a Federation starship,” said Lewis.

“Federation?” repeated the man weakly. “I’ve never heard of any Federation.”

“Can you tell us your name?” asked Lewis, deciding to ignore the oddness of the comment for now.

“Captain Kowoltsky…” he paused, grimacing in pain. “… of the UEDS Freedom. Or,” he looked around the bridge, “what was the UEDS Freedom.”

“We have a team of engineers here. They’re assessing the damage now.”

“I should get him to sickbay,” said Moore, putting away her tricorder and taking hold of Kowoltsky’s arm.

“Very well,” said Lewis. “Beam him over to the Majestic and do what you must to heal him. I’ll stay here and see how bad the damage is.”

“Wait,” Kowoltsky choked out. “What about the others? Did any of them survive?”

“We’re looking,” Lewis assured him. “We’ll get any survivors here back to our ship.”

“If we don’t go now, though,” said Moore. “You won’t be one of them.”

Kowoltsky nodded weakly.

She tapped her comm. badge. “Moore to Majestic, two to beam directly to sickbay.”

The two figures were covered in the transporter beam and disappeared quickly. Lewis straightened up and looked at the remaining doctors.

“Is there anyone else alive in here?” he asked apprehensively.
“No sir,” said one of the doctors quietly. “They’re all dead.”
Lewis looked down, feeling a pang of guilt. If they had gotten there sooner…

He turned away quickly and headed for a door behind the command chair. It didn’t open automatically, which wasn’t surprising, but what was surprising was that it wouldn’t budge when he tried to pry it open.

He gave it another try, but he couldn’t get it open. He turned to Ellick, who was scanning the bridge. The rest of the engineering team was examining specific panels and circuits. “What’s the story?” he asked.

Ellick shrugged. “I don’t know sir,” he said. “We haven’t found a way to get information from any of these consoles.” He paused, looking around. “I’d say that this ship isn’t going to be going anywhere soon, judging by this.”

Lewis sighed. Their assailants had not made this an easy job. “We’ll have to tow it back to starbase with us, but let’s get out of here for now.”

“But sir, there may still be survivors,” said the doctor who had spoken earlier in an exasperated tone. “We can’t just leave them.”

“There’s nothing we can do. Too much of the ship is depressurized. I doubt anyone else is alive.”

The doctor sighed angrily. “We have to try.”

“Lieutenant, even if we manage to get this door open, we won’t be able to go any further than the room on the other side. There is nothing we can do.”

“Can’t we beam them out?” offered another doctor.

“We can try, but we don’t even know if any one else is still alive any more,” said Lewis. “For now, we’ve got to…”

“Commander, more ships are coming through the wormhole. They seem to be from opposing sides, and their shields are up. They’ll probably start blasting away at each other again in a few minutes.” Came Drayson’s voice hurriedly from Lewis’s badge.

“Acknowledged, sir,” said Lewis, tapping his badge. “Lewis to transporter room 1, beam us back.”

“Yes sir,” said the transporter operator. “Energizing…”


On the Majestic, alarm klaxons were blaring and the lights were dim, the only sources of illumination coming from the consoles and the red lights that flashed from strips on the wall in time with the Klaxons.

Drayson sat watching the starships on the view screen. Some looked similar or exactly the same as the Freedom, while the others were like long, oddly shaped tubes, their bows pointed like arrowheads and hulls dotted with gun turrets. Many fighters had also come through, but were not moving anywhere. They were obviously stunned by their trip through.

Drayson was just wondering how long it would take them to figure out that the other side was there when they began firing, taking no notice of the Majestic. They were hardly maneuvering at all. It was like watching two fleets of ancient galleons firing energy cannons back and forth at each other.

The turbolift door at the back of the bridge opened, and Commander Lewis stepped out onto the bridge and walked to the chair next to Drayson.

The bridge was relatively calm. They had all been anticipating this, but the rest of the ship probably was a flurry of activity.

“What are we going to do?” asked Lewis.

“Well, we’ll just have to--” began Drayson, but Swanson interrupted him.

“Sir, one of the ships is hailing us,” he said.

“On screen” said Drayson, and immediately flinched, horrified at what he saw. It appeared to be a human with tubes and circuits growing out of its head. Several figures sat behind this one, all looking the same, as if they were plugged into the ship through long snakes of wire and circuitry. It was an unsettlingly Borg-ish sight, but possibly even more horrifying.

“I am the captain of the Red Faction ship Wrath,” he said in a dangerous voice. “I suggest you stay away.”

Drayson threw a look at Lewis, and then said, “We have given aid to one of those starships. We do not intend to interfere, but…”

The other captain’s face twisted into a totally evil expression as he interrupted Drayson with an evil snarl. “You have rendered aid to a UED ship!” he said, his voice choked with suppressed anger. “You will regret that decision!”

The screen switched off, and one of the red-gray ships, obviously the Wrath, slowly turned around to face the Majestic and opened fire with forward cannons that sent green energy bolts their way. The bridge quaked with the impact.

“What are they attacking us for?” said Lewis angrily. “We haven’t done anything.”

“Except give aid to their enemies,” said Drayson resignedly over another rumble. “Alright, if they want to play that way, let’s show them how it’s done. They don’t look too maneuverable. Ensign Sanders, initiate maneuver Cochrane 2.”

“Aye sir; initiating maneuver Cochrane 2.”

The Majestic leapt forward, spitting phaser beams at the Wrath, lighting up their shields so that they glowed bright yellow. It performed a stunning set of maneuvers, first darting forward with it’s port side to the Wrath, then making a quick 90 degree turn to face their opponent’s side. Without delay, they quickly flew several vertical circles around the Wrath before breaking off. This impressive set of maneuvers allowed it to dodge many of the weapons fired by the Wrath. Fighters swarmed around it, firing small laser cannons to almost no effect.

“Excellent flying ensign,” said Drayson.

“Captain, if I may,” said Lewis.

Drayson nodded.

Lewis turned to the helm. “Mr. Sanders, take us around to the back of the Wrath. Get us out of the middle of this mess.”

“Aye sir,” said Sanders, maneuvering around to the aft side of the Wrath. The Majestic was now out of range of several enemy ships, using the Wrath as cover.

“Good idea, commander,” said Drayson, impressed.

“Thank you sir,” said Lewis, looking proud of himself.

“Ok, now, fire all weapons at the Wrath. Torpedoes; everything.”

“Aye sir,” said Swanson, seeming more than happy to do so.

The Majestic, its shields creating a faint blue haze around it from the fighter bombardment, seemed to explode as phasers and torpedoes spewed forth. Several unfortunate fighter pilots were unable to maneuver out of the way of the beams and were completely vaporized. The phasers continued on to strike the Wrath, it’s shields now dancing like rippling water reflecting bright sunlight.

“In another time and place,” said Drayson ironically. “That might be pretty.”

Lewis smiled half-heartedly, but said nothing.

The Majestic continued the bombardment for less than a minute before the Wrath turned. Its shields still glowed brightly, but red laser bolts were shooting from under the shields.

“Sir, they’re turning to face us. We have just a few more seconds before they will have us in range of their big guns,” said Swanson.

“Continue firing until they get us in range. Sanders, when I say, take us forward right through the middle of their formation. Swanson, I want all weapons, including torpedoes ready,” said Drayson. He felt the adrenaline rush through him as he gave the order. It was a risky maneuver, and they could take quite a pounding in the process, but he doubted that the Red Faction ships would concentrate all of their weapons fire on them.

“Now!” commanded Drayson.

Sanders took the ship forward incredibly fast, and the weapons stopped firing for a moment. The ship moved into the middle of the formation, slowing down as it reached the center. The Red Faction ships pounded it relentlessly from all sides, it’s shields glowing blue, crackling under the fire… and then it exploded in a blast of phaser and torpedo fire. It seemed to be on fire as every weapon it had blazed. The phasers blew apart fighters and struck the huge red ships, relentlessly pounding every target there was.

The Red Faction ships slowed their rate of fire as they wildly attempted to maneuver out of danger, but their attempts were futile. They were getting pounded by the Majestic, which was now dealing out far more damage than it was taking.

“All right, I think we’ve kept this up long enough!” called Drayson over the rumbling of the bridge. “Sanders, take us out again. Bring is back behind the Wrath.”

“I’m getting us out sir, but the Wrath has moved. Getting behind it won’t do us any good.”

“Hmm,” said Drayson, looking at his panel. The Wrath had moved all right, right into the middle of the formation. It was taking quite a pounding from the UED ships, though.

“Sir, we disabled one enemy ship in that attack,” said Swanson triumphantly.

“Excellent,” said Drayson. “You may fire at will, lieutenant.”

The Majestic swooped out of the middle of the formation of ships, firing its weapons at whatever target it could hit.

“Captain, the Wrath’s shields are at 30%,” said Swanson.

“We did some serious damage with those little maneuvers,” said Lewis.

“That’s an understatement, commander,” said Drayson. “Swanson, target the Wrath one last time. Prepare two quantum torpedoes.”

“Aye sir,” said Swanson.

“Sir, won’t that damage the UED as well?” asked Lewis, looking concerned. “They’re very powerful.”

“I know, but none of the UED ships seem as damaged as the Wrath. They should be able to take it, and besides, the Red Faction ships will have to take some of it as well.”

Lewis nodded slowly. “All right.”

“I’ll give you the… ‘honor,’ commander,” said Drayson, the word “honor” dripping with irony.

“Thank you,” said Lewis in an ironically grateful voice, turning to Swanson. “Lieutenant, fire torpedoes.”

Two blue, sparkling quantum torpedoes blazed forth from the ship. The Wrath’s captain, obviously aware that his ship was doomed, seemed to be trying to maneuver out of the way, but the ship was far too sluggish. The torpedoes smashed into the shields, sending two blue clouds of energy into space. The Wrath’s port section seemed to shrivel with the heat and energy, looking scarred and mutilated.

“Their shields are gone sir,” said Swanson. “They’ve got damage to their entire port section, and many of their port gun turrets are offline.”

“Good,” said Drayson. “Hail them. Let’s see if they’re willing to talk this time.”

Swanson tapped the controls, and the console beeped. “They are responding sir.”

“On screen.”

The captain of the Wrath appeared again. He seemed much more shaken that he had before, but otherwise the bridge looked the same.
“What do you want?” he demanded, in a futile effort to make it look like they were the ones who were winning.

“Your surrender,” said Drayson calmly.

“Our surrender!” spat the captain, half-laughing. “You are far more foolish than you look if you think we will surrender.”

“Then let me put it another way. Surrender now, and we won’t carve you up like a roast. Take your ships back through the wormhole.”

The Red Faction captain looked agonized by the choice. “Fine!” he snarled. “We will return to our space. But know this! You will regret the day you interfered in our conflict. Mark my words, you will pay!”

The screen went blank. Outside, the Red Faction ships headed back for the wormhole, firing their weapons at the UED ships. The other ships shielded the damaged Wrath as they retreated into the wormhole.

“I’ll be in sickbay,” said Drayson. “I think I should check up on our guest. You have the bridge, commander.”

“Aye sir,” said Lewis, taking the center chair as Drayson stood up. He made his way to the turbolift at the back of the bridge. It hissed open, and he stepped in.

“Deck 13, sickbay,” said Drayson. The door closed, and the turbolift hummed to life. A few minutes later, Drayson was walking into sickbay. Many biobeds lined the walls, and other beds that were just there for people to rest on. 1 person was lying on the beds. He wore white and blue uniforms. At his waist was a holster but no weapon.

Drayson walked up to the captain. “Captain Kowoltsky, correct?”

The man nodded. “That’s me.”

“How are you feeling?” Drayson asked.

“I’ll live,” said Kowoltsky. “Now, I suppose you’re going to want to know where I come from and what happened to us.”

Drayson nodded. “That would be a good start.”

Moore had walked over and was listening intently. “Not until you get some more rest,” she said.

“Oh, come now doctor,” he said, trying to sit up. “I’m fine.”
“You need more rest,” said Moore. “You had serious internal injuries. Give yourself time to recuperate.”

“I’ve suffered worse and gotten back to work the next day,” said Kowoltsky indignantly. “I am not under your authority.”

“All right,” cut in Drayson. “That’s enough of this pointless bickering. Doctor, tend to some of your other patients. The captain and I have to talk.”

Moore, looking disgruntled, walked away. Kowoltsky looked at Drayson.

“Well, I suppose I’d better start by telling you that we were engaging a Red Faction fleet before this wormhole suddenly appeared.”
“I know all about the dreadnaughts and the battle,” said Drayson. “And you can fill me in on the history of your civilization later. I just want to know where you come from right now.”

Kowoltsky nodded. “We come from the Milky Way galaxy.”

Drayson’s eyes widened. “What did you say?” he asked, convinced he had heard wrong.

“The Milky Way galaxy,” repeated Kowoltsky. “Do you know it?”
Drayson stood there shocked. “You might say that,” he said after a brief pause. “But we’ve never encountered people like you before. Where did your species originate?”

“The Sol sector, and the planet Earth,” said Kowoltsky.

This time, Drayson flinched. “No, that isn’t possible,” he said, talking to himself as much as Kowoltsky.

“Why?” asked Kowoltsky, just as confused as Drayson.

Drayson sighed. “Because that’s where we come from, and where we are right now.”

It was Kowoltsky’s turn to act shocked. “I don’t understand. Are you saying there are two Sol sectors, and two Earths?”

Drayson nodded. “In a manner of speaking, yes. But… how could it have happened?”

“How could what have happened?” asked Kowoltsky.

Drayson thought for a moment, wondering if he was even authorized to tell Kowoltsky any of this. Finally, he decided that he was, so he said: “We have encountered an anomaly like this before. Not exactly the same, but similar. It was even formed under similar circumstances. This anomaly we’ve discovered leads to another quantum reality, one where the Federation doesn’t exist.”

A look of comprehension spread across Kowoltsky’s face, but he also looked worried. “I knew that there could be temporal wormholes, but I didn’t know that there were these… what did you call them?”

“Quantum realities,” said Drayson.

“Yes…” Kowoltsky’s voice trailed off.

“All right,” said Moore, who had come back over and was looking severe. “You’ve chatted long enough. Time to get some rest.”

Both Drayson and Kowoltsky nodded. “We’ll discuss this in more depth later,” said Drayson.

“Ok,” said Kowoltsky wearily. “Anyway, I’m beginning to think I do need a little rest.”

Drayson smiled a little, then turned and left sickbay. He headed back for the turbolift to the bridge, and entered.

“Bridge,” he said, and the turbolift hummed to life once again.

That had been a very odd encounter. It seemed incomprehensible to him that the Federation could not exist in another reality.

But then again, he thought. There are an infinite number of them.

That still didn’t make it any better. How humanity could have become so warlike… ah, but that was jumping to conclusions. He didn’t know what the situation was over there.

The turbolift slowed to a halt, and the door opened. He walked out onto the bridge, and headed for his ready room.

“What did you find out?” asked Lewis, standing up.

Drayson stopped and turned to look at his first officer. “A little more than I wanted to know.” He said. “Kowoltsky will tell us everything on the starbase. Ensign, resume our course to starbase 316, warp 6, but lock on a tractor beam to the Freedom.”

“Yes sir,” said Sanders entering the coordinates and sending the ship to warp, towing the Freedom behind them.

“I’ll be in my ready room. You have the bridge, commander,” he said.

“Aye sir,” said Lewis, sitting down and looking concerned.

Drayson entered his ready room. It had very little in it, just a desk, a food replicator and a couple of chairs. On the desk was a picture of Drayson’s family. He had a wife and two children, one 15 and the other 11. His wife had light brown hair, was tall, and was very pretty.

He sat down in the chair behind the desk, and swung his chair around to face the replicator. “Coffee, hot.”

There was a hum, and a blue glow as a cup of coffee appeared in the slot. He picked it up and took a sip. For some reason, coffee always calmed him, despite all the caffeine. He needed to be calm at the moment. He had received quite a shock when he had heard about the UED inhabiting the same galaxy as them (although the situation couldn’t have been more different), but it seemed almost inevitable that they would face some kind of conflict with the Red Faction.

He looked at the picture of his family again, thinking about what the Red Faction captain had said. The Federation had already recovered from the Dominion War, but they couldn’t have another war. They had rebuilt their naval forces, but the emotional and spiritual wounds would need more time to heal.

Drayson sighed and picked up a PADD to begin his report to Starfleet. “God help us.”



Copyright 2006, all rights to original materials reserved. Translation: steal this and face the wrath of the gods.

[FTeik]

Interesting, although this "RedFraction" is a little cliche as villains.

[Captain Newland]

Interesting, although this "RedFraction" is a little cliche as villains.

Yeah, I'm still working on them. I'm hoping to get them looking more like space more than irrational "attack without provocation" kind of deal.