Star Trek: Rebellion

Chasing Shadows

"Entering grid G-12." stated the young Henson in a somewhat monotone voice. A mix of hope and dread filled her conscience.

They had been searching for days. Minutes felt like hours, hours like days, and days like weeks. Some things they could hardly remember. Maybe they didn't want to.

"Sensors boosted to maximum, nothing on radar besides a barely M-class planet in range, sir. Shall we check the next grid?" asked Henson Mills. This was her first major mission, but it had turned out to be more than a brisk, casual, maiden voyage.

She was on her first large mission since graduating from the Academy. This ship was the first Warp 12 fighter ship from the 'Fleet. The U.S.S. Utara launched on stardate 79453. Its launch was just as big as when the U.S.S. Voyager launched some thirty years ago (45271).

The similarities between the U.S.S. Voyager and the U.S.S. Utara were frighteningly common. Henson training, something major going wrong and getting lost in the Delta Quadrant, making some weird first contact with things, and other things like that.

"No. Let's fly around a little. This is the second to last grid. I'll be damned if we miss something over a sensor malfunction or some other mishap in this piece of-" said the Commander, broke of heart but not of the soul.

She interrupts the Henson. "Sir, I know you have personal ties to th-"

"Do as I say, Henson! If they are not here, they probably aren't anywhere."

"Yes, sir". She was worried about his mental health wasn't sure if her's was doing the best right now either.

"Half impulse. No need to tax the engines. Scan in an outward spiral. We must go over every square kilometer."

"Aye-aye, Captain. Full impulse."

The Henson sighed. The Commander had potentially lost one of his closest friends and finest officers, not to mention Captain Yates, who he was quite close to, close enough to let Commander O'Brian be picked as his XO. He wouldn't be satisfied until they had triple checked everything. But, to her surprise, the sensors picked up something.

"Captain", she said, careful to not let too much excitement into her voice as this was likely another false reading. "aft sensors have picked up something. Eight-hundred thousand kilometers away to our starboard side."

"Are you sure it isn't just a warp shadow? Or another Romulan warbird? Tetryon particles? An Undine cube?"

"Well, there's no way of knowing without getting closer. But, if it is a warbird or even a cube, we're done, sir."

"Take us in."

"Aye. Three-quarter impulse."

Their feeble ship seemed to be only held together by a string and the determination of her single-digit compliment. She stayed below 300,000 kilometers per second, lest she starts leaking. Again.

The young bridge officer piped up after the long expectant silence, save for the odd noises of the ship here and there. "I can't tell what it is. It could really be anything. It seems to be a tangible object, sir."

The Commander sighed heavily in an almost depressed state. The career of a Star Fleet officer is often trying, but this was personal. The Henson was right. "Cloaked ships are tangible."

"All too tangible" replied the Henson. She knew good and well what could happen. They all knew. "Scanning." She waited patiently. "Scanning complete. Metal. Definitely tritanium alloy. Shall I beam it aboard?"

The Commander sighed, unsure of what to expect. His imagination, hope, and morale were all a little lacking. A wretched week in the gamma quadrant is quite the toll on even the strongest of officers. "Go ahead, Henson."

"Sir, it's not working."

"What do you mean it's not working?" he asked, confused.

"I mean, it won't beam."

"What!? It can't be that dense..."

"Sir! That's because it isn't a piece of metal. Well, it is but..."

"But?"

"Romulan warbird decloaking!"

"They must've masked their signature! Secondary power to shields!"

"What secondary power?"

The Commander knew the only choice was to fight. They could never get away in time.

"...all remaining power to shields. Charge weapons systems."

"Commander, they are hailing,"

"On-screen."

"Trespassing vessel, this is the R.S.S. Onsahk. Lower your shields and prepare to be boarded."

"Do I have a choice?" asked the Commander, sheepishly.

"No. If you do not comply with our orders, we will destroy your vessel!"

"And what is your name? I'd like to know the name of my would-be killer."

"I am Commander Jiloth."

"Thank you," the Commander said, satisfied. He hurriedly ended the transmission to hide the fear in his eyes.

The Engineer returned. "Good news only!" shouted the Commander.

"Stealth is back online."

"Helm, activate stealth!"

"Stealth activated"

A familiar rumble ripped through the ship, with the explosion of consoles.

"Report!" called the Commander.

"Stealth module offline. Several consoles destroyed. Hull breaches in decks five through eleven."

"Send damage teams down there. Engineer T'Laral, get down there with them. Ready torpedoes." He called out.

"We only have one remaining."

"Then we'll have to make it count, won't we Henson? Thrusters to maximum, come about. Scan them for any weaknesses. Let's find one to exploit."

"Their starboard nacelle, sir. It's badly damaged."

"Emergency power to forward shield."

"Coming about. Shields at 23 percent. We have a lock on the nacelle."

"Put it on the viewscreen and fire!"

They watched in anticipation as the torpedo seemingly leaped for it's target. The phaser array, or, what was left of it, had already done a number, but all it took was that lone torpedo to blow it off.

"Hit!" the Henson blurted excitedly. "Looks like it triggered a chain reaction with their warp core. It's going to blow!"

"Head for the M-class planet. I assume it's near here?"

'Define near' she thought. "Aye-aye. It's about one-third of a light-year out. Plotting a course, bearing 192-mark-4. Warp 4. "

"Warp 4!?" the Commander exclaimed. He knew the warp core was low on dilithium but didn't know it was this bad.

"It's all she can do."

"Warp 4 it is."

"Course laid in."

"Engage."

The computer, somehow still functional, chimed in. "Warp 2 travel to bearing 192-mark-4 engaged. Time until arrival: 30 hours."

"Oh, Captain. I forgot to mention."

"Huh?" he was lost in thought. Being away from the alpha quadrant was new to him. For this long, in this condition at least. Having this many problems was also new. As well as losing most close to him.

"They launched a distress beacon."