The shimmering blue light of the Operations console was starting to give Lakotda a headache. He was used to the old computer system on the Dauntless, but Sha Ka Ree was filled with all the latest software. He hated change.

The graphics he’d grown fond of had been replaced with intermixing blue displays with more information than any rational person could need. Though he assumed this was, in part, due to Chel’si’s customisation of her console. It was set to her needs. Her preferences. He liked to keep things simple. But from what he’d seen so far from the people working in this city the staff seemed to like things to be as complicated as possible.

He’d been working with Chel’si for the past hour, searching through Rogan’s logs to find more information on his conspiracy theory while Siaka questioned everyone on her to-do list. Everyone who was still in the city, at least. It was no easy task seeing as most of them were high ranking officers, getting them to cooperate would be a nightmare. Kristan was just glad he didn’t have to deal with it.

The silence wasn’t helping. He’d barely exchanged three non work related words with his new Operations manager. She seemed efficient, professional and he could understand why she was placed in such a highly regarded position. But there was still something about her on his mind. Her name seemed familiar and she only carried one. No family, tribe or region name which was downright unusual for any Sakarian. Her family tattoo around her left her eye seemed familiar, but having been away for so long he couldn’t quite place it.

Taking his eye away from the glare of the console, he opted to break the silence. “Why does your name sound so familiar?” Kristan asked curiously as the Commander scanned through the data. “Chel’si… I’m sure I’ve heard it somewhere before.”

Trying not to sigh, the Operations manager nodded. “It’s a royal name.” She smiled, keeping her eyes on their work.

Lakotda nodded and continued skimming the logs before it clicked. “You’re a member of the Lon-Osaar family?” He asked, shocked. “I figured you were Osaari but I didn’t think you were…” He paused as it all came into place in his mind. He remember where he knew the name from. Chel’si, married to a human, it was big news. The Federation Journal had a special on the marriage a few years ago before the Kolar joined the Federation. “You’re the first daughter.” He said. “It explains why you’re so young…”

A smile appeared on Chel’si’s face. A weak smile. Covering her annoyance. Most automatically assumed that’s how she got her commission and why she was given such an important job on Sha Ka Re. She had hoped her new captain and his years of Starfleet experience would have opened his mind a little. She was wrong. “That’s the kind of prejudice I went to Starfleet to avoid, captain.” She said sternly. “I wasn’t absorbed into Starfleet, I was never a member of the MOD. I left Sakaria just like you did and I climbed the ranks the hard way. My position was earned, sir.”

“Good.” Lakotda locked eyes on her. “I’ve seen your family miss out on all the hard work and responsibilities the rest of us had to fight through. I’ve seen them command soldiers in battle without knowing what war was truly like. I don’t like people who take the easy way out.”

“Then you’ll love me.” The young officer snapped back.

As they stared each other down, Tenagra stopped dead in his tracks, looming above them on the upper level of the Epicentre. It took a few moments for them to notice him there, then another few moments for them to turn to see the rest of the staff watching in silence. With a stern glance from their new captain everyone went back to work ignoring the potential drama.

Everyone but Tenagra. “That was uncomfortable.” He said unashamedly.

“Why are you here?” Chel’si groaned as she ignored him to get back to work.

“Charming.” Tenagra said as he tossed his Link down to the captain. “My report.”

Lakotda frowned as he stared at the information in front of him. One paragraph. “I don’t think this constitutes a report, Mr Tenagra.”

“I’m not one for writing…” The engineer replied as the information was passed over to Chel’si. “We had some power fluctuations. I sourced them back to one of the defunct generators. We have four, but we only need to use two. We have a third acting as an emergency backup and the fourth has been offline since installation.”

“Then why do we have it?” Lakotda asked.

“The city was designed to be constantly under growth.” Chel’si answered on the engineers behalf. “We added bits and pieces over the years, the most recent being the Surak district, but with advancements in technology we can run everything comfortably with what we have.” Tossing the link back to Tenagra, she continued. “We’ve already approved a request from the civilian counsel to remove the fourth generator and replace it with housing.”

Lakotda nodded. “So… why has the dead generator been active?”

“Whoever used it wiped the memory core.” Tenagra smiled. “But… they left a few clues. Enough to make me think they’re hacking into our industrial replicators and a few other minor systems. From the hack jobs I’ve found there so far, it seems to match the work of whoever tapped into Rogan‘s replicator system.”

“Are you sure?” Lakotda asked instantly.

“Quite sure.” Tenagra nodded as he leaned on the screen above the captain.

Siaka leaned back in her chair. “If they isolated that generator from the system and used it as an independent power source from the rest of the city, they would have been off our radar. We checked our internal systems for power fluctuations and hack jobs…”

“…and that generator was never on our grid.” Tenagra finished her thoughts.

“Is there any way to find out what they were using the replicators for?” Lakotda asked.

Tenagra thought about it for a moment. “I can’t make any promises, but I can try.”

“Then get to work, Mr Tenagra.” As the Helian left the Epicentre, Lakotda turned to Chel’si. The thrill of the hunt was beginning to consume him. “Since we‘re technically on Sakarian ground, I’ll assume the Freedom Rights are in effect, which means we can’t keep logs on anyone’s movements, but is there any way to find out who has entered the generator complex?”

Shaking her head, Chel’si was hesitant to give the answer. If it led to anything, the rumours her husband talked about were right. “Only Starfleet personnel. Rights are in effect for civilians, but for the safety of our officers we’re still permitted to track our own communicators.”

Jumping out of his chair, Lakotda dashed over to the security console. “Commander…”

“Navarro.” The security chief answered. He’d been listening in on the conversation the whole time, but with Lakotda bypassing his own chain of command to use the police, he hadn’t had the time to get to know his own chief.

“Commander Navarro… can you find out if any of our officers have access the offline generator room in the past six months?”

Navarro nodded. “Yes, sir.” He said clearly as he began tapping at his console. He hadn’t expected Lakotda to be in command, he had hoped one of Riesman’s staff who would be more reluctant to chase the Admiral would have taken the position. Under the watchful eye of the Captain, he had no other option but to give him the name of the only officer to had entered the facility.

As the information flashed up on his console, he knew with the captain watching closely he had to confirm the results. “Admiral Harold Riesman.”

Hearing the captain begin to put together a plan of action to have the Admiral arrested, Navarro entered the information in the duty log. He needed to put a contingency plan into action. He just hoped his contact would read the log quickly and know what needed to be done.

It was far too early to be on duty, but Morgan had managed to pull himself out of bed with reasonable success. With his bar still not lifted on La Cala he’d spent the night drinking three days worth of Romulan ale he’d found in Tenagra’s store room and was now paying the price. He felt as if a starship had landed on his head. The bright lights of the square in daytime was almost too much to bear are he stumbled out of the arcade, leaning onto the rail of the coffee shop while he tried to get his bearings.

Dressing in uniform was almost too much to deal with under the pressure. For reasons he couldn’t explain he’d worn his standard BDU’s during his suspension which only left him feeling as if he’d missed out on a good opportunity to dress in civilian clothes. He’d tried to mix the two up by wearing half the standard uniform with his grey shirt and black trousers, but throwing on his ‘shore’ jacket. A deep brown leather coat issued to the Raven crews with the usual emblems on the upper arms. Despite being branded with the Federation symbols, the jacket made him feel as if he was half way normal. Distancing himself from the supposed disciplined and rule abiding Starfleet officer he was perceived as. Though the only people to hold that perception when it came to James Morgan was anyone who’s never met him.

After a brief nap in the sonic shower he downed a pint of coffee and pulled himself together in time to find messages from both DCI Siaka and Captain Lakotda instructing him to go to police headquarters in the Surak District, which led him to the square leaning against the coffee shop staring at the entrance to the building trying to pull himself to some level of sober before wandering into work.

It had taken a while to process the messages by which point he was late. Then the decisions came. Uniform or jacket? That was an easy one. Would he take the inner-city civilian turbocar system to head to the Surak district or take the far easier approach of dropping into the nearest transporter. A luxury reserved for military personnel only. But that was too quick. He needed time to come to his senses. So he joined the public transport cue.

With various stops it only took sixteen minutes to get to the drop off point at the far side of the Arcade and by the time he stepped off into the array of shops he hoped he’d feel a little better.

Somehow he felt worse. He’d picked up a snack and a coffee on the way there which had settled his stomach somewhat, but he still needed a few moments which had led him to the coffee shop which, as he leaned on it for support, only made him assume stopping there was a sign for yet another cup. So after a few more minutes of time wasting in ordering a raktajino, he finally passed the front desk in the Criminal Investigation Unit and tried to make himself seem as sober as possible as he walked through. Needless to say, Siaka was thrilled to see him.

“Morgan, what a delight it is to see you in my fort without having you passed out in a cell in a pool of your own vomit.” All eyes turned to the Lieutenant as Siaka gave him the kind introduction to her staff.

As Morgan wandered deep into the CIU office, his lips curved with an obviously fake smile. It was his first day back on the job since his short suspension. It had only been a few short days but it felt like weeks. He savoured every moment of being off duty and spent most of it drunk and disorderly, his way of making the most of it. Despite the deal Lakotda made him he was half hoping Paik would say no, but for some reason the project manager seemed to have a misplaced faith in him.

Dumping himself on one of the desks with the group of detectives, clutching onto his drink, Morgan let out a sigh. “The captain told me you had something fun for me down here.”

Nodding, Siaka held back a grin. “Well, thanks to Detective Sergeant Empak, we’ve just arrested your good friend Admiral Riesman on charges of tube grub smuggling.” Suddenly Morgan’s fake smile turned to a hearty grin. “We’ve got a few of his staff being interviewed but I thought you might like to join me in asking Riesman a few questions.”

Holding up his finger to pause Siaka from saying any more, Morgan took a moment. A few brief seconds to revel in delight. How many opportunities like this come along? How many chances in life do you get to return the hell your boss has given you? If he could take a snapshot of this very moment in time and keep it in his pocket just so whenever he felt low he could pull it out and remember just how much joy it gave him, he would. “Detective Chief Inspector… I think I love you.”

“Don’t ruin the moment, Morgan.” She replied in her usual harsh tone. “The logs show he’s been hacking into the city systems using an inactive generator complex, we need to find out why.”

“Why not charge him of suspicion of tampering or whatever instead of a fake charge?” Morgan asked.

“I couldn’t hold him on it. Starfleet personnel in a Starfleet facility, despite it being an unusual situation, I couldn’t hold an arrest.” She smiled.

For a police officer, Morgan didn’t see much in the way of responsibility and law abiding professionalism in her that he’d seen in other officers. Though he was glad he was with her on better terms now. She was a lot more fun when he wasn‘t in custody. “Making the rules up as you go along?”

“It’s easier that way.” The DCI replied. “Interview room one, would you like me to hold your hand and lead the way or can you manage by yourself?”

Morgan’s fake smile returned. “I’m sure I can make it if you lead the way.”

With a grunt Siaka turned away from Morgan and began to walk past her office to the interview rooms as the rest of her staff slowly got back to work.

With the joy almost killed by the DCI, Morgan followed her lead a few steps behind, slipping in “You‘re a delight to work with, Detective.” before the duo disappeared into the chambers behind the office complex.

When they entered the interview room Morgan’s eyes locked onto the disgruntled Admiral as he muttered some curses in German under his breath. Siaka sat down at a desk placing herself opposite Riesman and logged into her control panel to record the conversation while Morgan hovered around the room.

There was a moment of silence as Morgan removed his jacket and threw it over the empty chair beside Siaka. Letting the Admiral wait as he slowed almost to a halt as he put his coffee on the desk, peeled the jacket away as slowly as humanly possible, taking a moment to stare at the detail in the Federation emblem and the Sha Ka Ree mission patch before discarding it across the chair. Then picking the coffee back up and taking a few sips as he took a few steps round the room, scanning the details, or lack thereof, in the walls. Riesman’s eyes staring following his every movement.

With Morgan happily letting Riesman grow more and more frustrated and Riesman refusing to crack, it was Siaka who spoke first. “I hear Admiral Rogan was investigating you when he died.” She didn’t mince her words.

The Admiral tried not to look shocked. “Oh?”

“I also did some checking and found out you had a meeting with him before he left and according to some statements from your colleagues you had a heated exchange regarding fleet operations.” Leaning forward, she stared into his eyes, forcing him to take attention away from Morgan. “Now he’s dead. Funny coincidence.”

“Yes. It is.” The Admiral replied calmly.

“Care to go into detail on what this fall out as about?” Morgan butted in.

Riesman straightened his freshly pressed tunic as he leaned back. Taking a breath before replying. “He and I disagreed on some fleet movements. It was a common disagreement.”

Morgan took a step closer. “What fleet movements?”

“That’s classified information, Lieutenant.” Riesman was more smug than usual as he spat out his response.

Reaching into her pocket, Siaka pulled out her Link and tossed it towards Riesman, keeping her eyes on him. “Dr. Paik has decided to give myself and Lieutenant Morgan the highest clearance.” She said as she watched the Admiral read the orders as Morgan moved closer, leaning over the desk to have a look at Paik’s notes. “So, as the Lieutenant asked… what fleet movements?”

Raising his eyes from the document, Riesman thought carefully before giving an answer. “I don’t believe you. I want to hear that directly from Paik.”

“Right.” Siaka groaned as she slapped her hand across her commbadge, her own Starfleet issue security emblem to show the solidarity between the police and the Federation. “DCI Siaka to Dr. Paik’s office, can you please send the Doctor to CIU as soon as possible so he can personally tell Admiral Riesman to man up and cooperate?”

A brief moment of stunned silence preceded an answer over the line. “Dr. Paik won’t be available until the end of the day.”
“Tell him to take his time.” Siaka answered before tapping her communicator to close the line. “Well Admiral, looks like you’ll be here for a while.”

“I don’t have time for this, I demand you release me.” Riesman bellowed. The cracks beginning to show through his cold demeanour.

With a smile Morgan finally took his seat and replied to the superior before the DCI had a chance to. “You’re in no position to demand anything, Admiral. You have no authority here. So we can sit in silence and wait for Paik, or you could, as DCI Siaka has so eloquently put it, ‘man up’, and talk to us.”

“You should learn to treat me with some respect, Lieutenant.” Riesman sneered. “I am your superior officer.”

“No.” Morgan replied. “You’re just a higher ranking one.”

As Morgan smiled sweetly at him, Riesman shook his head in shock. He knew he should have sent him back to the Alpha quadrant, far away from him and his fleet. Maybe a nice harsh penal colony mining duetarium.

Showing no signs of restraining her amusement, Siaka relaxed into her chair and folded her arms. “Well we have a lot of time to spend, if you won’t talk about that, how about your childhood?” She shrugged, saying whatever came to mind. “You’re human, right? Born on Earth?”

“Germany.” Riesman replied happy to waste her time. “A city called Munich.”

“Tell me about it.”

“It’s located on the River Isar, north of the Bavarian Alps.”

“Oh?”

“It’s situated in the Northern Alpine Foreland. Munich has a continental climate strongly modified by the…”

“Don‘t you have any spark of life in you?” Morgan interrupted. “You sound like an encyclopaedia.”

“Why don’t you tell me where you were raised, lieutenant.”

“Glasgow. Scotland. Big city, tall buildings, river in the middle. Beautiful.” Morgan replied, quickly. “How about you tell me how you killed Admiral Rogan?” As the words slipped out his mouth, Siaka merely raised an eyebrow and watched him unleash. “What was it? Something to do with this big shake up? Were you taking too many resources? Did he maybe stumble onto the real reason of these classified operations? Maybe a secret little army, the Harry Riesman fleet ready and willing to serve you and you alone.” Morgan stood up, not taking a pause for breath. “Let’s face it Harry, these rumours circling around of a big takeover… quite a coincidence that your restructuring gives you quite the position of power. And you know what they say about rumours, don’t you Harry?” He smiled. “They’re usually true.”

Riesman stayed calm, though all he wanted to do was grab Morgan and lay into him. All he’d wanted to do since he came onto his radar was to knock some discipline into him. “Quite the imagination you have there, Lieutenant.” He answered, Morgan’s eyes burning a hole right through him. “It’s such a shame you could never put as much focus in your work here as you have in that little story. What do you think Detective Chief Inspector?”

Glancing at Morgan, Siaka nodded as she thought about his story for a moment. Or at least pretended she was. Part of her wasn’t sure whether she should be impressed or not. He’d accidentally stolen her plan to try and wind up the Admiral. Even though he was speaking calmly, she could see the rage in his eyes. The fury of losing control not only to an inferior officer, but one he couldn’t control.

She’d only seen the drunk side of James Morgan, the reckless rebel without a cause trying to fill drown all his bad memories in a vat of Romulan ale. Then vomiting that attempt all over her holding cells.

Before she could give an answer, however, one of her staff burst into the interview room. “Ma‘am…” The young gentleman’s eyes were wide open. Siaka knew that look. It meant that either something important had happened or he‘d had too much coffee again. “You need to see this.”

The ominous message from the uniformed officer brought Siaka and Morgan off the offensive and back out into the main hub of the CIU. Without saying a word to the Admiral they simply up and left, locking him in the chamber as they sprinted to keep up with the pace of the energised messenger.

The room was almost empty, with the other detectives gone to conduct their own interviews and chase up the officers on Lakotda’s list they hadn’t caught up with yet. The few officers still working in the room were sanding in the middle of the collection of desks, all staring at the main display.

While everyone else was decidedly fascinated with the information they were looking at, Siaka could only shrug. All she was were blue lights, symbols and numbers. She could only assume her staff were easily impressed. “You made me run for this?”

“Chief…” Morgan pointed to one of the symbols on the display. “That’s the Athena.” His eyes scanned the other symbols, each matched with their own number. “The Hestia, Erebus, Hespera, Typhon, Hyperion…”

“So?”

Turning to Siaka with a frown, Morgan grabbed his head with frustration. “The ships we’ve lost, Riesman‘s secret fleet.” He took a few steps closer to the display. “How were you able to track them?” He asked, hoping one of the police officers would be able to answer.

“Admiral Rogan…” The all too familiar voice of Tenagra chimed in, bringing Morgan and Siaka’s attention to the unnoticed Helian leaning in the doorway of Siaka’s office. “That was on the isolinear chip hidden in his body. The key to tracking them.”

“Can we access their full flight plans?” Morgan asked, his eyes scanning their current positions.

Tenagra shrugged. “Yes.” Maybe. “I think so..” He corrected. “I’ve already informed the captain, he’s on his way. I’ll leave you to play, I still need to figure out this replicator thing.”

Siaka nodded as she recalled Lakotda’s message about the generator revelation. “Any progress so far on determining what it is Riesman was doing down there?”

Backing off towards the exit Tenagra shook his head, his usual boyish grin sweeping his face. “If I’d had any luck, you’d know about it.” As he turned to face the way out his smoothly planned exit turned into a collision with his captain. Finding himself millimetres from Lakotda’s face, he pointed towards the display. “Who needs reports when you have my genius work rate?” He commented before disappearing to reception.

Watching Morgan study the display, tapping at keys to track the ships movements, Lakotda stood by Siaka’s side. “Am I right in thinking these ships have all been into Dead Space?” He asked the lieutenant.

Barely acknowledging the captain, Morgan simply nodded. “From what I can see they’ve all entered at some stage, each one going out of range soon after they were reassigned to Riesman’s task force.”

“Out of range?” Siaka asked. This was a little out of her depth.

“There are some strange properties in that region, Chief.” Lakotda answered. “A natural dampening field if I remember rightly from my time in the MOD. We’ve always been unable to scan the area, whenever a ship goes in we lose all contact with them.”

Releasing a sign, Morgan nodded again. “We have a ship in there right now. The Dauntless. We lost contact with them as soon as they crossed the security border.” Turning his head towards the captain, he had to ask the question that’d been on his mind since he found out Amy’s flight plan him she was leaving. “I take it we have no word from them yet?”

“We will.” Lakotda smiled, alone in his optimism. “Do you have any idea why those ships are assembled in the Deigos system?”

Morgan was silent, he had no clue. As the three of them stared at the display they all contemplated the options before Siaka finally spoke up. “General Dar might know.” She said, grabbing the captains attention. “The colonies there were relocated a few years ago when the MOD decided to militarise the only habitable planet, Deigos-Obta. It’s not public knowledge, but it’s a shipyard facility now. Very high military.”

Lakotda’s eyes focused on the DCI. “You’re not supposed to know…?”

Dodging eye contact, Siaka locked on the display as she tried to hold back a grin. “I met a soldier in a bar. Security’s not what it used to be.”

Mulling over the information, Lakotda pulled out his Link and started to tap away, searching for files on his personal database. “Morgan, how would you feel about taking a little trip?”

“I’m betting I don’t have an option.” The lieutenant commented. “But if you want me to get to Deigos, you’ll have to get my ship clearance. If it’s high military there’s no way I’d get in there without a few good words put in from Dr. Paik.”

“No need.” Finding the files he was looking for, he keyed in the code to have it sent to Morgan’s Link. “I have a cloaking device in storage, on loan from some friends on the New Romulan State, I’ve just sent you the access code.” He smiled as he placed his link back in it’s holster. “I trust you have an engineer on board that can have it up and running within the hour.”

Reaching for his own Link, Morgan began to make his way towards the exit. “I’ll let you know when I’m underway.”

As Morgan left, Lakotda’s attention focused solely on Siaka. “Did you get anything from Riesman?” He asked quickly.

“Not yet, he refuses to talk without speaking to Paik.” She replied. “I’d slap him around until he told me what I wanted to hear, but I didn’t want to upset you Federation types.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that…” Lakotda replied, quickly changing the subject. “When I asked for Paik’s blessing for this operation, he told me something interesting.”

“Good interesting? Or Starfleet interesting?”

“Probably the latter.” Lakotda answered.

“Well if you tell me I’ll try not to fall asleep.”

Lakotda frowned. Maybe she wouldn’t be as easy to work with as he’d first thought. “Riesman has sensor readings that indicate the Independence was destroyed by a Kolar ship, V-55 design. The sensor readings were manufactured and leaked so the news service would pick them up but I also know that those fabricated logs didn’t show a V-55.”

“You’re thinking Riesman altered them?”

“Or one of his staff.” Lakotda continued. “I’ve also got a witness account of the attackers registering as Starfleet ships that Rogan has assigned to his little task force and Colonel Horal has stated on record that he was also attacked by our own.”

Siaka nodded. “So we’ve got him?”

“Almost…” Lakotda frowned. “We can link him to everything that’s happened so far, but there’s no guarantee he’ll talk. The accusation that the Kolar attacked the Independence will hit the news eventually and I was wondering, with such an inquisitive news service, what would happen if this information about Team Rogan went public?”

Feeling the need to grin, Siaka began to understand his line of thinking. “So he talks, or we leak this. We could offer him a deal, tell all and go quietly.”

“My thoughts exactly. Wait for Dr Paik to arrive and get to work. I need to know who’s involved in this and why.”

“It shall be done.” She replied, looking back to the information on display. “If you’re so sure this will work, why are you sending Morgan to Deigos?” She asked as politely as her sour tone allowed.

Lakotda had an easy answer. “In case I’m wrong.”

The workload was getting frustrating for Admiral V’Sal. With Siaka arresting and questioning the bulk of the Admiralty, V’Sal was the only flag officer left on Sha Ka Ree who wasn’t in a holding cell or confined to quarters. The only people he had left were junior officers and support staff do coordinate the various task forces and the Kolar weren’t cooperating.

When Commander Navarro arrived in his office he felt too tired to talk to him. But it was apparently urgent. Un-ignorable. He politely asked the Commander what he could do for him but there was no response. Not at first. The longer the silence continued, the more frustrated V’Sal became with his guest. No matter what he said, the security chief just stared at him blankly. Minutes passed, V’Sal became concerned. A little scared. When he reached for his commbadge to ask for an emergency medical team it finally triggered Navarro to respond.

Before V’Sal could open a channel he found himself dropping to the floor. A dull pain in his shoulder. He looked down only to see blood pouring out of a puncture at the edge of his collarbone. There was no phaser burn. Whatever he’d been hit with, it was far from standard issue or even modern technology. A projectile weapon? A bullet? He didn’t have time to think about it. He reached for his commbadge again, but again he was stopped by the Commander. Whatever the weapon was, he saw it in Navarro’s hand as it was raised above his head. Before he could react he felt a dull thud. His skull cracked open and as he felt the blood trickling down his forehead he drifted into unconsciousness.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed when he woke up. It was unusual. As he looked around he realised he was sitting as his desk. Disorientated, a little queasy, but still right at his desk as if nothing happened.

Did it happen? He questioned it in his mind? Did he imagine it? It felt real but anything’s possible. To be sure he tapped his communicator. He wanted to call ahead to Accident and Emergency, let them know he was coming. But there was a problem. His commbadge wasn’t there.

As he looked down to his chest, he noticed a bigger problem. His flag officers tunic was missing, the grey undershirt ripped open exposing his blue ridged chest. Or what remained of his chest.

As his fingers drifted from where his communicator should be, he pulled his short open a little further and let his fingertips run over his chest. For the briefest of moments he felt as if he was losing his mind. Already unsure if he was really attacked or if it was just a strange dream, he had to check again whether he’d drifted off. But as his fingertips felt the cold against his chest, he realised he was very much awake.

Piercing from where his sternum should be, he felt a cold chrome plating. On further inspection it had ridges in a circular pattern with what looked like cybernetic cabling piercing into his flesh. He pushed his pinkie into the centre, a small access port pushing deep within him.

In shock, he wasn’t sure what to do. Before he could figure out the best course of action it all went black again.

He’d never felt anything like it before. He could feel thoughts, memories, information all flood his mind. It was as if something was downloading into his own mind. Soon it became overpowering. He didn’t just feel himself pass out, he felt himself fade away. Something was taking over, taking control.

Within moments the Admirals body slumped over the desk, trying to hold itself up with his arms. Admiral V’Sal was gone. What remained was something new.

As Morgan wandered around the storage lockers with his ships technician by his side, his thoughts seemed stuck on the Dauntless. Even though no one expected to hear form them, he was still worried. Not so much for the ship or it’s crew, but for the woman who’d taken centre chair.

It seemed no matter what he did, or even if she was never sure what she could say to help, Amy was always there for him. Even during her divorce they remained strong friends while he was stuck in the middle with her husband living with him and Tenagra. It was an often uncomfortable situation, but their friendship had only grown stronger.

His thoughts drifted back to the day after the memorial. He remembered there being a strange calm in the square. He was sure a lot of the locals would be able to blissfully go back to their every day lives, but for him and the rest of the Starfleet officers things were going to get worse before they got better.

The mood in the Epicentre was still dire. No one could really forget what had happened, especially when they had so much work to go through in the absence of the man they were trying to grieve for. There was no time to sit and ponder. No time to remember their commanding officer or their friends on the Independence. With everyone constantly reminded by their loss by covering for his absence all they had to do was put on a brave face and soldier on.

Before she’d left he remembered her being in La Cala, listening to her discussion with the bar host, Mieke, as he sneaked into banned territory. They were talking about who would take over from Rogan. Lakotda never entered into her mind, but then why should it? “My money’s on Captain Grey.” She’d said. A good bet, but Morgan had hopes Amy would be offered the role.

Then Mieke chipped in. “It’s an officer taking a civilian job. Whoever takes it needs to have the support of the people as well as the council and the Kolar. She’s got quite a high public profile and has done a lot for the people so far. And the Kolar are happy to have her where she is. And so am I as long as she lets me bring in Romulan ale despite the trading embargo.”

Morgan remembered Amy laughing as she nodded. “The only bar in the Federation to serve Romulan Ale… your profits must be through the roof.”

“Not with James barred from here, they’re not.” Mieke sighed. “Any idea when he’ll be back on duty?”

Amy chewed on her sandwich as she thought over the answer. “For your sake, I’d hope it’ll be soon.”

Mieke nodded in agreement. Morgan didn’t realise it, not even now, but Mieke saw him as a piece of the scenery in the bar. Not having him there was like losing your mascot. He remembered his eavesdropping becoming more interesting when she continued. “I saw you too at the memorial together… anything… going on there?”

When Amy replied with “Why has everyone been asking me that?” He decided to drop his disguise.

“Because we’d make a great couple.” He interrupted.

The Commander almost chocked as she heard the Scottish accent behind her. Turning sharply, she took a look at Morgan as he slumped over the bad beside her wearing the worst disguise she had ever seen. “What the hell are you doing here?” She asked under her breath, Mieke on the other side of her looking just as confused.

When she asked, he removed a VISOR, what he thought was a cunning disguise to hide behind, along with a long dark coat and ‘Gotham Bat’s baseball cap. Looking back on the moment, he could have picked something a little more subtle. “I’m not here.” He lied. Badly. “I slapped my commbadge on your husband this morning. According to the security logs I’m currently in the park.”

“Good strategy.” Mieke smiled as she leaned over the bad for a bottle of whisky and a glass. “Until someone tries to hunt you down and finds you’ve magically transformed into Matt Coombs.”

As Mieke poured him a glass and passed it over, he shrugged. “I’ll deal with that if and when it happens.”
“Do you even care what’ll happen to you if Riesman finds out what you’re doing?” Amy asked, annoyed by her friends persistence in breaking any rules laid out to him.

Not even having to think about an answer, Morgan grinned. “Not in the slightest.” He replied before downing the glass and reaching for the bottle. “Besides, I’m only dropping by for a quick drink before I go to my counselling session. An hour of talking about my feelings… not my bag, baby.” He recalled Amy and Mieke stared at each other, both mouthing ‘bag’, unsure where he’d picked up the lingo. Though he never felt the need to explain. “Oh, and I spoke to that Captain Lakotda last night… interesting fellow.”

“How so?” Mieke asked.

“Well… he’s the longest serving officer I’ve ever met that wasn’t a stuffy Admiral for one thing.”

In the hour that followed they discussed Lakotda, Riesman, Morgans punishment and every piece of idle gossip he had time for. He’d hoped to pick up the conversation another time, but the next he heard of her she was almost on the border of Dead Space.

He did remember asking why she hadn’t had another pin on her collar yet. Why she hadn’t considered her own name for the role of Commanding officer. She’d been in the region for a good few years now and although she’d only spent a few months as XO he’d assumed her name would be in the running. Even though he knew her situation he was still surprised to hear her reaction to the thought of being offered the job. “It’s hard enough juggling being a parent in my current job, could you imagine how hard it’ll be as captain?” He felt as if she was making an excuse. He knew her career was important to her, but so was her son and he knew life would be more difficult if her soon to be ex husband got the job he was after.

Matthew had been talking about transferring to the Criminal Investigations Unit, becoming a Detective Sergeant. If Siaka gave him the job it’ll mean he has even less time to spare. With Amy’s schedule already packed and leaving her feeling as if she has too little time on her hands as it is, he knew she’d opt out of a command role. Though he thought of it as a waste of an opportunity. Especially for someone so good at her job.

Snapping himself back into the present as Satullo found the locker they were hunting for, he tapped in the access code and waited for it to open. His engineer was talking away, but Morgan was blocking out his words as he wondered where Amy was, if she was safe.

He knew it seemed selfish, but didn’t want to lose his only true friend.

“I’m hungry…” It was the main thought on Amy’s mind. Food. Since the Dauntless disappeared she’d been trapped on de Luca with no supplies. No rations. Nothing.

Poking his head up from under the interface that had grabbed Jucarr, de Luca frowned in response. “I know. You’ve been hungry for two days. It doesn’t change the fact that we don’t have anything to eat.” With that said, he got back to work, keeping an eye on his Link as he tried to connect with the device.

He’d been trying to figure out what it was. Not only that, but tap into the mainframe of the dead city and figure out where exactly they were. Who lived here and abandoned the colony in perfect condition. He’d hoped to find out what happened to the security team and find out where Jucarr and the ship had gone. Unfortunately for them he’d found nothing.

“I need a better power source…” He sighed. “Unless…” As Amy paced back and forth with boredom and frustration, Marc came up with a plan. Making sure she wasn’t paying attention, he pulled a small device out of his pocket and reached back to the base of his neck. It was one of his add-on’s to the Link. A device that plugged into his data port and allowed him to communicate directly with the link. Once it clicked into place and he could feel his mind reach out to his networked devices, he lifted his main Link control and began to make a few changes to it’s operational system.

Amy’s pacing stopped. She could see the excitement on her science officers face. That couldn’t be a good sign. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to interface with the central database.” He replied, his eyes fixed on his updates. “The Link doesn’t have the power I need to open up the systems I want access to, but if I can tap into them directly, use my own body as a power source it might just work.”

A lot of the Links usage went over Amy’s head. He knew what he was doing, but she had to ask, “Will it hurt?”

Without a flinch or second thought, de Luca finalised his on the fly upgrade. “Oh yes…” He uttered as he began to feel he flood of information burning in his mind. To Amy it was like seeing someone being electrocuted as the bulky frame of de Luce violently shook and flailed in pain. She winced in pain watching, closing her eyes from the horrific sight until she heard him stop. It was only a few minutes. It felt like hours.

Slowly opening her eyes, she could see him laying still on the ground. Taking a step towards him she asked “Are you alright?” but there was no time for him to answer.

As soon as the words passed her lips, she could hear a transport beam activate behind her. A green light flashed in front of her when she turned, pulling her phaser as the molecule formed before her.

In the few seconds it took for the bodies to form, she froze, unsure how to react upon seeing six Romulan officers facing her. Each one with a disruptor pointing towards her.

With her security detail dead and her science officer barely conscious, her lone phaser didn’t seem terribly threatening to the group. Confused as to their presence in Dead Space, or Kolar space in general, she lowered her phaser. Whatever they wanted, she was in no place to debate them.