USS Crusader, NCC-97470

[Jennifer Braggins]

==Odyssey-class Star Cruiser.
Commanding Officer: Captain Aitrus Colso.
Assignment: Border Patrol and Scientific Surveys.==

[Aitrus Colso]

==Bridge, USS Crusader==
==One week after launch==

Aitrus walked onto the bridge with a smile on his face. Sure, the Crusader could have arrived at the Desolatia system three days earlier, but the crew was still getting a feel for the new ship. Marina had been in a constant cycle of tweaking and tuning the engines as they went, making sure that everything worked just the way she wanted. Samantha had been doing the same to the sensors, getting each of her divisions to test and retest all of their equipment. Baz had been doing the same down in medical, as they fortunately had yet to have any injuries more severe than a scrape or bruise.

He’d been most impressed with Spirit, the new tactical officer. They hadn’t been able to stop for a proper weapons test, but he had instead had the tactical department running simulated drills surrounded with level one diagnostics of the phasers and torpedo launchers. It wasn’t the same as a true weapons test - which Aitrus had promised as soon as they had an opportunity, likely after this first visit - but it at least gave them the best chance to make sure they were operating correctly, both from a technical standpoint as well as personnel wise.

Nathan had, for his part, also been busy making the department his own, and having a bit easier time than Spirit had. The forthcoming mission hadn’t imposed any specific needs, but that hadn’t stopped the new security chief from starting rounds of simulations and drills. They needed to learn who their comrades were, he knew, and how they reacted under pressure - all valuable information that Nathan needed as well, and Aitrus knew he’d been spending long nights collating that data as well. He suspected Nathan had something to prove; hopefully Aitrus could eventually convince him that the only one who needed that proof was Nathan himself.

So as Aitrus took his seat, he was more than confident in not just his ship, but the crew as well. They may not all have been his people from before, on the Luna, but old and new alike were working well enough together that he was pleased. “How are we doing, Commander?” he asked his first officer as he took his seat.

“So far, so good,” the Romulan said. Aitrus knew he had wanted desperately to join in the tactical preparations, but he’d done well and not hand-held the new head of his old department. For one, he’d been too busy with the minutiae of being the first officer of a much larger ship, and a brand new one as well. For another, Aitrus had noticed he’d matured a lot over their jaunt to the Delta Quadrant, and was glad that his friend was settling into the new role so well. “We’re set to arrive any moment now.”

As if he’d been watching the helm himself - Silran had been a pilot, and seemed to still have a preternatural sense for the engines - the stars slid back to points. “We’ve arrived in the Desolatia system, Captain,” the young ensign at the helm said. “Our approach to Desolatia III-B should have us arriving in about thirty minutes.”

Samantha had teased him all week that the entire reason they were coming here was because the planet was actually the moon of a gas giant in the star’s habitable zone. Already rare enough to have a natural Class-M moon, Desolatia III-B actually orbited the gas giant at ninety degrees to the system’s ecliptic, and yet its rotation both about its axis and about the gas giant gave it four seasons, a beautiful temperate climate, and a fantastic sky. It was an oddity in the quadrant, and she was preparing several teams to gather data about the system while they were here.

“Excellent,” Aitrus replied, and stood back up. “They should be expecting us, but go ahead and hail the planet anyway,” he said to Lieutenant Spirit, who immediately bent to the console to comply.

Moments later, the screen sprang to life with the image of Parson Salinchar, the Desolatian Minister of the Exterior and Aitrus’ point of contact since the Federation did not currently have an ambassador on the planet. The fact that they hadn’t appointed anyone to the role in the past five years was a point of contention that Aitrus was going to have to delicately smooth over. [Good afternoon,] the man said, golden head bobbing on the screen. [Welcome to Desolatia.]

Aitrus smiled and bowed his head. “Good morning, Minister,” he replied - ship time being out of sync with the planet at the moment - with as much respect as he could offer. “On behalf of the Federation and the people of the USS Crusader, I thank you for letting us come and speak to you.”

[It is our pleasure,] Salinchar replied. [We’ve always had good relations with the Federation, though obviously things have been more… strained… these past few years. We look forward to renewing that friendship.] Aitrus nodded in approval, but the minister continued before he could formulate something appropriately diplomatic. [In your absence, we’ve had to turn to other sources for succor and friendship.]

“Other sources?” Aitrus said questioningly. “Who might those be, if I may ask?”

[You may ask,] the minister replied, [but I believe that might be a matter for our meeting in person. We show you arriving in orbit in about half an hour?] Aitrus nodded, the question still on his face. [Then perhaps we can meet here in my office in one hour. We shall send details shortly.] The screen blinked, and was replaced by the live forward view it normally had.

Aitrus stood there for a moment, blinking at the empty screen before he turned first to Silran, and then to his wife Samantha at the science console. “What the hell was that?” he asked.

“Sounds like they left us for another suitor,” Silran said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, a smile across his face.

Samantha rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I doubt that,” she rejoined. “If they were looking to join up with someone, the only other option for them is the Cardassians, and I’m sure they weren’t that desperate.”

Aitrus, used to playing the mediator between them, cut through to the facts. “Do sensors show anyone else in orbit? Anything that might indicate what he meant?” Samantha turned to her console, a tad sheepishly if he was any judge of his wife of nearly two decades.

“Not picking up any stations or the like beyond the small one they’ve built themselves,” she said. The Desolatians were warp capable, but hadn’t done much with the technology in the fifty years since they joined the galactic scene. They’d managed to avoid taking part in galactic politics in that time mostly by the expedient of not being worth the trouble; they didn’t have any resources worth the effort to exploit them, and while they sat between Federation and Cardassian territory they weren’t exactly on the most expedient paths between them, limiting their strategic worth.

“I am picking up a couple of ships,” she continued, “just coming over the horizon. They look like…” She trailed off, and he had to look over at her. She had slumped a bit, and was rubbing the bridge of her nose in a well-worn look of annoyance. “It’s a large freighter and an escort,” she said. “And they’re Ferengi.”

==TBC==

[Nathan Ramius]

Having a week between launch and arriving at Desolatia III-B had given Nathan plenty of time to work on his department. Simulations, drills, exercises, and even patrols had filled up much of the new Chief of Security’s time. Getting to see everyone working together gave him even more of a sense of their chemistry, especially being underway and distractions at a minimum. There was time to tweak schedules and rosters to accommodate anything that he saw. Plus, the patrols gave him one-on-one time with people, and a chance for them to speak more freely. Even then, his work wasn’t done at the end of his shift. When he was supposed to be off-duty, he was busy filing reports, filling requests, reviewing results, and authorizing various things; the administrative stuff that never went away. Then, there was always the minimum twice daily workouts too.

Of course, he didn’t just spend time in his little realm, and there had been the occasional excursions beyond the hallways of the security or rec complexes. Trying to get to know his fellow senior officers had been high on his list. Though, admittedly, Nathan felt like he hadn’t necessarily been exceedingly good about his attempts. Aitrus and Silran were easy enough to talk to, with the Romulan Commander being a constant contact. And so too was Samantha, who seemed like she’d was accepting of Nathan. Marina, however, had been one person that Ramius was semi-avoiding. Not because she wasn’t nice, or because they didn’t jive. The problem there was they jived perhaps a little too good. That was a distraction that Nathan felt like he couldn’t afford. Spirit, on the other hand, had no such connection with Ramius. Most of their encounters had been brief and to the point, though not discourteously so. It was just that the Tactical Chief was busy, much like Nathan was. As he considered it all, perhaps Spirit saw Nathan as a distraction, like he had Marina.

During the quieter hours, when Ramius did attempt to find some rest, his thoughts often drifted. Sometimes there were intrusive thoughts, and those he had to fend off. Though not everything was negative. As was happening more often, Nathan found himself fondly thinking of his old crew. Giving each of them their own time in his mind, and adding things to put into messages that he would send them eventually. Especially a few special few that he didn’t just intend to keep in contact with, but with whom he wanted to spend time with when the Crusader returned to port.

If I’m lucky enough for those schedules to match up, he’d thought at the time.

The sound of a door swishing open brought Nathan’s attention back into the moment, and his eyes caught sight of Captain Colso. Respectfully nodding to Aitrus, he noted the smile on his captain’s face. It was a good sign, and brought the hint of one to Nathan’s face too. That was quickly tempered when results appeared on his console. Taking a moment to review the information, while still paying attention to what else was happening on the Bridge, he paused only when Colso gave the order to hail the planet.

Nathan’s attention refocused on the viewscreen, with a singular concentration on Minister Salinchar. The files on the minister felt rather sparse to Ramius, who had expected SFSEC or especially SFIC to have better been on top of it. However, with a reduced diplomatic presence on Desolatia, there probably wasn’t much of a chance to easily gather intelligence. Or, much of a reason to. What little Nathan had to review had painted a picture of Federation dithering on a planet with limited strategic value. As the Minister spoke, it was becoming more clear that the limp handedness on the part of the Federation had become a problem. Aitrus had been rather direct in his questioning of the Minister, which surprised Nathan to a degree, but he supposed that with the Salinchar being so forthright, that beating around the bush wasn’t needed.

[You may ask,] the minister replied, [but I believe that might be a matter for our meeting in person.]

Hmph… Nathan kept his face straight, but quickly keyed in a note for himself.

As Captain Colso discussed the revelations, or lack thereof, with the other senior officers, Ramius ended up taking a look at sensor details. His brows pulled down, nose wrinkled, and upper lip pulled up and separated from his bottom lip. Not wanting to believe the results, Nathan did a double check just to make sure that everything was correct. Samantha Colso revealed the reason for Nathan's reaction.

“It’s a large freighter and an escort,” she said. “And they’re Ferengi.”

Of course it’s the Ferengi, he mentally sighed, and tried to put his prejudices behind him.

Ramius had never liked the diminutive, hyper-profit driven, large lobed pests. There had been a few interactions where he’d met a Ferengi that wasn’t so bad, but those were few and far between. Most of the time, in Nathan’s eyes, they completely lived up to galactic perceptions of them and their culture. Taking a deep breath in, Ramius steadied himself at his station before deciding to pipe up.

“It’s worse than just a couple of ships I’m afraid,” he added to Samantha’s assessment.

“Our scans of Desolatia are showing that they are installing planetary defense cannons, and it looks like the Ferengi are the ones supplying them. If that’s the case, it isn’t a far stretch to assume that they are supplying other technology and armaments to the Desolatians.”

With his piece of information given, Ramius keyed in a quick message to his ACOS to prepare a series of security suggestions based on the available scans. Of course, Nathan knew how he felt about it all; the greedy imps were far from being trustworthy. Though, that wouldn’t be his actual assessment. There wasn’t any indication that anything untoward was going on. Instead, Desolations had reached out for help, and to a degree had been careful about who they went to for it. The Cardassians were just next door, and they could have gone to them. But they had been smarter than that. Or sort of smarter, against Ramius’ personal tastes. They went to a neutral power that wouldn’t rock the boat too much and create big political waves.

[Aitrus Colso]

Captain’s Log - Supplemental. USS Crusader, Captain Aitrus Colso, recording.

Our first mission in the books, and a job well done. There isn’t much more that I could have asked for. Of course, that’s no thanks to the Ferengi, but my crew acted phenomenally, and I wish to thank them all, particularly Lieutenant Ramius and his security team. But I’ll get to that in a moment.

Crusader arrived at Desolatia III-B - a beautiful world, though I didn’t really get much of a chance to sight-see - about a week ago. I don’t know why we were given the mission in particular, but it was a goodwill mission to this independent system. Positioned on the Cardassian border, the foreign office wanted us to check in on them, because evidently they couldn’t do the job themselves. Samantha would get on to me for saying that, but rank hath its privileges.

Anyway, we arrived to a surprise - a large Ferengi freighter in orbit. Desolation, as I said, was independent and lacks much in the way of trade, so we were unsure what the Ferengi were up to. Soon, though, we found out. The Desolatians invited us to a formal reception that was being held, which we gladly attended. Note for command - dress uniforms are terrible and need to be redesigned to something more comfortable. There, we offered up the Federation’s friendship formally once again, which they told us they did not need now that the Ferengi were finishing up their installation.

Installation of what you might ask? A complete set of top-of-the-line planetary defense cannons.

Needless to say, I was shocked and we protested vehemently. Desolatia was near a strategic location on the border, and the primary reason the Cardassians had yet to annex them was that there wasn’t any material gain to be had from doing so, when they could fortify their own system already. By adding these defenses, ironically it would make them a much more tempting target as it would save them the time and effort of fortifying once they were able to claim the planet. Of course, this was ignored - I can’t blame them, but still it was annoying - and since they were independent I couldn’t do much more than lodge a complaint. I did, however, manage to get them to agree to an inspection by our teams to make sure they were operating in good order.

Due to the diplomatic realities as I continued to work towards trade relations, I couldn’t send my FO, Cdr Silran, and so I sent Lieutenant Nathan Ramius instead. With his investigative background and previous dealings with the Ferengi I’d intended to send him anyway, but now I had to send him as the team leader, as well. Newly promoted and new to the realities of being a department head, it was going to be a baptism by fire. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much choice.

From his report, he was given the runaround by the Ferengi foreman, but eventually managed to give them the slip and see what they had been trying to hide: that the weapons were just shells. The Desolatians had been sold Type XVII planetary phaser cannons, but they were nothing more than sheet metal, signal generators, and giant heat sinks, all designed to look good to scanners and hold up to scrutiny until the payments cleared.

Of course, his team had to shoot their way out past the Pakled workers and guards - not easy, but it wasn’t exactly taxing for his team - before they could present their evidence. I would like to say that kicking the Ferengi out of the system was just business, but that would be a lie. It was definitely a pleasure, as well.

We stayed in-system this past week, helping to dismantle the fake weapon emplacements while awaiting a full Corps of Engineers team that the Desolatians requested. They’ll also be building a Federation embassy, and if the ambassador coming with them does his job right there may even be a small outpost opening up soon.

On a personal note, Samantha and I had a lovely evening tonight planetside watching planetset as the gas giant dipped below the horizon, and I would heartily recommend a visit to anyone with the time. End log.

[Aitrus Colso]

Captain’s Log, Stardate 22404.11, Captain AItrus Colso, USS Crusader, recording.

Failure is part of life. It helps you learn and you do better next time. However, failure is never something you like to have happen. So, to summarize: the spy got away with unknown information, the terraforming project has been put on hold indefinitely, and we’ve been recalled to Starbase 375 for debriefing. To say I’m not looking forward to this would be an understatement. I--


“Captain, we’re getting some unusual readings,” Samantha said from the science station. She was calm but intense, working her console by feel while staring intently at the data scrolling rapidly over the screens.

All the hallmarks of his wife in an almost sheer panic.

Aitrus and Silran came to their feet at once, the captain and former science officer heading towards her station while Silran called for status reports from the rest of the bridge. “What have we got?” he asked as he came up behind her, a hand on her back.

“I don’t know,” she said. “There’s some kind of runaway reaction going on inside Marlek IV, but I can’t localize it. Its…” she trailed off, hands still working as her green eyes narrowed. “I’m getting all sorts of energy coming off of it, from basic thermal and electric like I’d expect from runaway volcanic activity, straight through gamma rays. Hell, I’m picking up tachyons and chronitons.”

“Chronitons?” Nathan Ramius said from his security console nearby. “How is a planet sending out time particles?”

“It shouldn’t be,” Aitrus said, turning back around to the rest of the bridge. “Helm,” he called, “get us out of here, best possible speed!”

“Aye sir!” Lieutenant Sural called from the helm. She called out her actions smoothly and efficiently, her training kicking in. “Breaking orbit now, warp engaging in three, two, one, now!”

And nothing happened.

“Warp now?” the Trill called again, to similar results. “No joy, Captain. Engines read fine, but we can’t establish a warp field.”

“Then top impulse, straight out of the system!” Silran called, and the helm suited action to the new orders.

Or, at least, she tried to. They were simply out of time.

Marlek IV detonated. The Crusader went with it.

==TBC==

[Aitrus Colso]

Captain’s Log, Stardate 22404.01, Captain Aitrus Colso commanding USS Crusader, recording.

We’ve been tasked with delivering supplies to Marlek IV, a small world on the Cardassian border. It has an abundance of mineral wealth that the Federation is trying to claim, and not much else - including an atmosphere. A team is working to terraform the planet, making it habitable within the next century or so if everything goes according to plan. Most of the supplies are foodstuffs and the like, but also several bits of tech that they need to ply their trade.

At least, that’s our official mission. Unofficially, I’ve also been tasked with investigating a spy that reportedly is on the planet for reasons unknown. They sent a message just hours ago, and since we were already at the nearby starbase, the cargo was transferred from the Mauritania over to the Crusader, and here we are. I hate spy games, but I understand why they wanted us to have the job rather than Captain T’Vis. She’s highly competent, but having looked at her record she’s not particularly imaginative, and also has only been captain for about six months.

Lucky me.

There’s a briefing for the senior staff in thirty minutes, but Lieutenant Korinas, my chief medical officer, has requested an urgent meeting. It's not like her to do that, and while I’ve had unavoidable business to take care of since we departed I called her up to speak before the briefing. She should be arriving shortly.



Lieutenant Baz Korinas walked into the conference room, flung herself into a chair, and said “What is it going to take for me to convince you that we’re in a time loop?”

Aitrus sat there for a moment, dumbfounded. He’d expected a request for leave, or maybe a training session she wanted to attend. At worst, a transfer request - her career appeared to have been hitting a lull and he could understand if she had wanted to try and go elsewhere to rejuvenate it. This…

“Um,” Aitrus said eloquently. “What type of time loop?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “It’s approximately five days long; I always wake up with us still at the starbase to find out our orders have changed, sending us to Marlek IV.” Aitrus nodded; that was already public knowledge since they were underway. “You give us a briefing that we’re actually looking for a spy, and things go on from there.”

This, however, she shouldn’t have known. Even Silran didn’t know that yet; he was waiting to brief everyone at once. It was necessarily proof, but it did give her claim an air of truth, at least. He hadn’t studied temporal loops in a while, but it wasn’t too far outside his area of expertise.

In the literature, the type of effect she was describing was usually called a ‘Groundhog Day Loop’. Aitrus had no clue why; when he’d tried to look into it, the oldest references had footnotes to papers that no longer existed, and ‘Groundhog Day’ seemed to be some kind of festival around an extinct ground mammal in the American Northeast. It didn’t make any sense. He did have to admit, though, that it was easier to say than ‘Macro-Quantum Localized Temporal Superposition Loop’.

“So,” he continued when he realized that he’d lapsed into silence for longer than he’d intended, “you say it's five days long and that we’re in day 1. Are you the only person who remembers the loop?”

Baz sighed exhaustedly, with her arms crossed on the table and a hand on the back of her bald, blue head. “So far, this is the fifth loop I’ve been in. The first time it reset, I thought I just had the weirdest sense of deja vu, but then it kept happening. And no, I’m not the only one.

“The spy also remembers each loop,” she explained, “and she’s been through a few more of them than I have.”

Aitrus’ mouth moved wordlessly, still trying to come to grips with her claims - and so far they were still just claims. He didn’t rule out the possibility that this was all just some elaborate prank that the senior staff decided to play on him, though if so it was incredibly elaborate. “Who is the spy?” he asked.

“A Cardassian woman, named Geshen Emur,” Baz replied as she sat up, though she kept her arms leaning on the tabletop. “She’s currently on the planet posing as a Bolian software engineer, though she’s kind of given up the pretense these past couple of loops.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Aitrus said softly. “After all, what point in hiding your identity if its already known?”

“Exactly,” Baz said with the ghost of a smile. “At this point, she just wants out of the loop, and she needs our help to do it. She doesn’t have the expertise or the resources to escape on her own.”

Aitrus contemplated for a moment. “So, she sends out a message - presumably at first to try and get her people to help, but since we’re the closest she’s agreed to work with us?” Baz nodded, rubbing her hands together a bit in a more familiar piece of body language from the normally very closed medical officer. “But presumably, we’ve been available the past few loops,” he continued; “and yet the loop persists?”

Baz nodded. “This is true,” she said. “Geshen has a very… strict and ingrained sense of what she should do. She’s worked with us, and Samantha felt like we were close each time when Geshen sabotaged the work and tried to escape on her own. She knew that we’d arrest her, and thought she could somehow make it work.”

“Then what makes you think she’ll work with us this time?” Aitrus asked.

Baz just grinned. “Because this time, I don’t plan to give her a choice.”

==TBC==