Star Trek RPG - Mission #4: "Codex Aelyrr"

Singh, T'Var and the two Aelyrr catch the next turbolift to the Bridge.

Vargas slows a little and says, "Yes, Mr. Collins?"

The Red Alert klaxon continues to sound. The corridors fill as Yorktown personnel rush to their duty stations.

Nia nods her thanks to Booker and enjoys the physical connection, too brief but pretty much all the contact they can have right now. But when she sees him give the info to Collins, who of course dismisses him to suck up to Vargas, Nia barely manages to refrain from an epic eye-roll. Apparently Booker's under the impression that a request from a full lieutenant means he can fob the job off onto his little protege.

Oh hell no. Unbelievable. By the time this game of 'Romulan Whispers' is through, the story will somehow get warped to imply that Collins personally uncovered a plot linking the kitties to the Orion Syndicate.

She moves swiftly to Vargas and Collins with a very quick smile to the latter before turning to the former. "I'll take this, Mr. Collins. If my idea's bad, I might as well get the blame for it." And the credit, but Nia doubts she'll hear any of that. Her gaze doesn't left Vargas's.

"Sir. I'm concerned that we're trusting the Aelyrr too readily. Especially with the deaths of the Klingons... It seems quite possible, maybe even likely, that whatever the Aelyrr gave the Klingons might have been lethal sabotage. In fact, for all we know, these Aelyrr could be from one of the factions that wanted to steal the Codex from its rightful owners--whoever they are."

"Of course..." Nia exhales and licks her lips. "I'm sure you and the Captain are taking due precautions, but just in case... I believe we should keep two armed security officers to 'escort' the alleged High Priestess and Eris anywhere they go. And--I'd also suggest bringing Mr. Cheverez and his crew back from the Naradraen." The red lights and klaxon spur her to talk faster. "Sir, if we walk to the Bridge together I can explain more on the way."

Collins is about to speak when Onn barges in. She steps back and waits for Onn to finish. Before Onn has a chance to walk away with Vargas, Collins grabs her arm and pulls her close. "What was that about? You all but knocked me against the wall?" she whispers.

Nia stares at Collins as if she's lost her mind--a possibility that, frankly, Nia's not taking off the table.

"I didn't even touch you, and I simply wanted Cmdr. Vargas to hear my rationale from the horse's mouth. Now let go of me, Mr. Collins," she snaps at the younger woman. "Do you seriously want to get into a physical confrontation with a senior officer, in front of the first officer, during a Red Alert?!"

The absurdity of Collins's choosing this time to put her hands on Nia would be funny if it didn't reveal a shockingly irresponsible sense of proportion. She wrests her arm free and looks at Vargas in some disbelief at his ACoS's lack of discipline, but otherwise ignores Collins to focus on the much more important issue at hand.

Rangin is about to clarify what he said, that the chances or Alveron and Eris being party to the theft of the codex is quite small, seeing as if they had done so, it would be more likely for the Aelyrr to send other Aelyrr after them, instead of Klingons. However, given that the Klingons had worked for some other groups and that they hadn't killed all of those on board the Naradraen, it probably meant they had strict instructions to grab the codex and make sure Alveron, at least, stayed alive. Probably hired by some other religious or political faction...

...and then sees Graham, Onn and Collins talking between each other about having security shadow the Aelyrr, followed by Collins and then Onn approaching Vargas after which Lt JG Collins decides to grab the senior officer. He freezes, almost in shock at the event, and then looks around, and gestures to Kylah who is following to steer clear of what is likely to be a large explosion from the Head of Security. He moves away to the Turbolift to give space, hoping one is there shortly to at least extract him from the situation.

Feeling satisfied that he's conveyed Nia's idea to Collins for her--as she seems to prefer--to bring to Vargas, Graham heads to the Bridge without a second thought or look back.

Rangin and Graham board the next turbolift, which is otherwise empty. Do you allow the doors to close now?

The First Officer looks from Onn to Collins. He says with some asperity, "All right, both of you - as you were. Mr. Onn, your theory had occurred to the Captain and me, and it may have some merit, but for now we have no reason to doubt the high priestess's story, and it was the Captain's decision to proceed on that basis. But thank you for bringing it to my attention. I believe the Captain intends to leave Mr. Cheverez and his Engineering team aboard the Aelyrr ship, but I will mention your other suggestion to her. Mr. Collins, in an abundance of caution, please keep an eye on the Aelyrr once we reach the Bridge, and accompany them anywhere else they go while aboard ship. I don't expect trouble, but of course it's best to be prepared. Anything else, Lieutenants?"

To give herself some time to think, Nia puts her hands behind her back, balling them into tight fists.

Hell yeah, I've got something else. I'd start with asking you to take your treating Collins and me as if we were both equally naughty little girls and shove it up your ass. She's the one who behaved violently and threateningly toward a fellow officer, not me. Merciful Seht'Dar, give me strength.

In truth, the endless bad decisions on the parts of both Vargas and Singh--who apparently made her decision to help the Aelyrr without bothering to ask for a report from the boarding party, even though this was supposed to be a debriefing--have long since ceased to surprise Nia. She just looks forward to the day their whole generation retires and heads off to Risa, or maybe the Old Officers' Home of their choice, where they belong.

So they still think the Aelyrr are trustworthy. It's ludicrous that they've bestowed such trust after speaking to these never-before-seen aliens briefly. Once, mind you, and for all of ten minutes!

Nia wants to point out how hypocritical the Naradraen gang is; how these supposedly devout believers wept and wailed and were willing to commit suicide over 'allowing' the Klingons to steal their precious Codex... but then don't utter a single gasp of horror when the Klingons' ship explodes, sending that likely booby-trapped Codex into oblivion. Is that still trustworthy, Commander?

She also wants to bring up Eris and her stone-cold murder of a defenseless Klingon. Then, during the battle, Nia was willing to buy Eris's explanation--she didn't like it, but vengeance can make anyone unhinged and even morally bankrupt; that whole benefit-of-the-doubt thing died at the same time an entire ship of Klingons exploded.

Everything she wants to say... she knows would just get her in trouble. Rather than waste the time and energy, she just takes a deep breath. Relax. "I don't think so, sir," she murmurs evenly. "But I do wish I'd had a chance to report to the Captain alone, away from the Aelyrr. Luck was against me. Even if I'd had the opportunity, of course, it might not have made a difference. Thank you for giving me your time and consideration."

Okay, onward Ho. She turns and starts to leave, but then pauses because she can't help herself. "Sir, I do hope you'll reconsider having only Collins here guarding the Aelyrr. I saw no less than four massive Klingons fail to control them, which is strange in and of itself. Then again," she adds with a charming smile, "Admittedly my bruised arm is proof she has some muscle to her. We'll have to hope for the best. Anyway, I'm sure that display of strength made you proud, Commander. You too, Lieutenant."

With a nod to Vargas--she's a professional, unlike his ACoS--she turns and starts off to the turbolift, catching up with Kylah on her way. Her mind's seething too much for Nia to say anything to the younger woman. Even if it's really just my ego that's bruised, not my arm, it sure would've been nice if Vargas had given Collins even a single, tiny hint that hey, maybe it's wrong to grab and drag a crew member around, especially when she's trying to talk to the First Officer about something kinda important. No, that's just crazy talk. I know better than to expect him to defend me in any way.

Security people stick together, end of story. The whole thing would be unbelievable if Collins were in a different department--but no, she's Security. Hallowed be thy name. I guess it doesn't hurt that she's a cute, young redhead.

Smirking to herself, she strides faster. Guess Vargas hopes he'll get a goodbye bang as a retirement gift. Ah, sorry, commander, but I doubt she goes for senior citizens. Maybe he'll get lucky.

Eyeing the corridor in front of her, she abruptly loses her train of thought. Good grief, is that Booker and Rangin? On a turbolift...alone?! Nia groans inwardly. Now this should be a bucket of laughs. After a second's thought, she isn't sure if she's fast enough to leap in there to prevent the inevitable brouhaha, but she gives it her best. Kylah, beside her, seems just as concerned, though the little Elasian doesn't say a word, because like Nia she speeds up considerably.

I'm not sure adding yourself into the mix is gonna help much, kid. Collins probably has more influence on Booker than Nia does--hey, after all, Nia only nearly slept with him, but Collins is a brother-in-arms, so to speak. Knowing this, Nia still doesn't bother to look back to see if the security officer is heading this way. She doesn't particularly care what Collins does at this point. Or at any time. Mostly she just prays that she can get in between Booker and the guy who seems to annoy him just by breathing. Ensign Rangin, the world's most mild powder keg. A nervous giggle escapes her, but she sobers up quickly. She is deeply concerned that Booker could do something rash and hopes she can stop him.

She also hopes, above all and everything else, that her intuitions about the Aelyrr are wrong.

As Lt Onn, heads across leaving Collins in her wake, Rangin snaps out of the sight that, given Vargas' demeanour, he didn't reprimand Collins for assaulting a senior officer, even if it was a grab of the arm. He also realises he is stuck in the turbolift with Graham who seems to be happily away with the fairies. Otherwise Rangin would not have expected him to enter the turbolift...actually, it would be quite like Graham to try and get Rangin alone in the turbloft to make another threat. After all, if Collins can get away with it, then every Security person is obviously going to be given such largesse.

Rangin decides it would be better to have more people around and sticks a hand in the doorway stopping the sensors from closing the door to allow Lt Onn and Kylah to enter. And if she doesn't move quickly, Lt. JG. Collins is going to be left behind with Vargas.

Kylah, not for the first time, has no idea what's going on between the various personalities surrounding her. She is very conscious of the possible danger, although she detected no deception from the Aelyrr. Then again, they are hard to read. She didn't detect any deception in Hardin either, and he should have been easy--unless he was a psychopath. Strange that my powers might be getting weaker, while Velir shows mental capabilities he never knew he had...

What strikes her most, while Lt. Onn goes over to talk to Vargas, is the older woman's showing disdain for how one of the Aelyrr--she knows the priestess is Alveron, so the other one must be Eris--killed a Klingon. Since joining the Academy, she has literally never heard anyone arguing against killing Klingons. Maybe coming from a non-Federation planet gives Lt. Onn a perspective the longtime Federation members lack?

All she knows is that while she wanted to avoid the Klingons on the ship, now she is extremely interested in speaking to them. How can she manage it? How--

Her attention jerks away from her inner thoughts when she sees Collins taking rough hold of Lt. Onn's arm and pulling her closer. Kylah's eyes widen and her mouth falls agape. What could this possibly be about? She turns to Graham, who seems to be friends with both women, but her wish to ask what might be happening fades away when she feels Velir's arm leading her deftly away from the confrontation. Not just deftly. Protectively.

Kylah can only follow like a marionette guided by strings. Am I sleeping? Did I drift off in the meeting and all this is some strange dream?

Velir lets go--her back feels chilly now, without his arm there--and continues toward the turbolift. But Kylah lags behind, still curious about what Onn could have said to make Collins display such disrespect to a superior officer. No, any officer. No one should be grabbed like that. She hugs herself and tries to sense what the women are feeling, but anger is so chaotic an emotion that it almost never reveals much. There is no subtlety to rage.

Then again that might not be true. When Lt. Onn strides away from the Chief of Security and his ACoS, the Sidonian's emotions are a cacophony, but Kylah can pluck a few from the mix. A sort of cynical outrage, coupled with... is that genuine fear? Kylah looks more closely at Onn's face. There is absolutely nothing revealed by her expression. Calm, a small smile raising her almost regal cheeks, and a smooth, unhurried stride. She could have just emerged from a Vulcan meditation class. Kylah turns and walks with her, trying to think of a way to address whatever just occurred.

That changes in an instant when Lt. Onn's gaze, now in profile since she is walking by Kylah's side, fixes straight ahead. A small but identifiable flash of dread widens her dark emerald eyes. Kylah turns and identifies the source of the disquiet. It's hard not to. Mr. Graham and Velir, in a small turbolift.

Onn has already passed Kylah, her much-longer legs moving faster to catch the turbolift before it closes. Kylah needs no encouragement and starts to walk quickly herself. She is tired but she does not want something ugly to occur. She reaches the door after Lt. Onn, not surprisingly. "Thank--thank you for holding the door," Kylah murmurs to Velir. She does not know where to stand. Too close to Velir, and it might insult Velir and annoy Graham. The reverse will likely please Graham but both insult and annoy Velir.

So she settles for the middle, as equidistant as possible. This is madness, she thinks dizzily. A Red Alert is underway, there are Klingons in the brig who might be mercenaries or dupes who do not know their comrades have been killed, strangers from an unknown culture on the Bridge walking around with the Captain with no current escort, and much of our engineering crew is to be left behind. And yet I must worry about offending two men who seem to hate each other.

She looks over at Lt. Onn. The woman rarely seems at a loss for words. Will she allay the tension in this small lift? Who will break this awkward silence?

Collins snaps to attention when Vargas raises his voice. In answer to his orders, all she says is "Yes, sir." She'll apologize to Onn later. She didn't mean to be so rough with her, all she wanted to do was know why Onn jumped in, cutting Collins off the way she did. What did she think I was going to tell him? She shrugs internally and heads to the turbolift.

Graham's mind is occupied trying to think about reasons for the Klingon ship exploding. If they were mercenaries, there's the possibility they were more slipshod and careless than real Klingon military...

Once in the turbolift he realizes he's been blessed with Rangin's presence for the ride. Fortunately, he's suspects Rangin will have nothing to say to him. He's sure in Rangin's little games he's playing, Graham's now a non-entity, someone to be marginalized or embarrassed when Rangin performs for others. He's surprised when it seems Rangin moves to leave, though: if anything Rangin ought to enjoy silently needling him, emphasizing Graham is helpless against his cleverness...

Then he sees that Rangin is holding the door open for a whole cast of characters coming down the hallway...

Huh, what the hell is going on?

There is a brief nod from Rangin to Kylah as she thanks him for holding the door open and as he looks down the corridor, he can see Collins also heading in the same direction. Leaving his hand up, he waits a few moments for Collins to join them, somehow squeezing into the group.

Once in, he activates it to head for the Bridge following the Captain and the Aelyrr.

Graham is aware the silence feels awkward.

I could say "it's good to see you fully recovered" to Kylah, he thinks--except she looks like shit.

Do we have Rangin to blame for that again?

This reminds him of the most recent time he saw Rangin accosting her, in the hallway...

Which calls to mind an idea he'd been toying with.

Graham clears his throat. "It's good to see you back on duty, Mr. Kylah," he says quietly and evenly. "If--ah, when you feel fully recovered we should meet at the gym sometime, there's something I'd like to show you."

Feeling dwarfed by everyone but Velir, Kylah hugs her multiple datapads to her chest, flattening herself somewhat so she takes up less space and, in some fantasy world, becomes invisible. The emotions in such a tight room are thick and oppressive, and she closes her eyes against them. Anger. Jealousy. Resentment. Self-righteousness. They combine into a virtual chorus, and Kylah has no mental earplugs to drown it out.

She hears her name and opens her eyes again. Graham. Gym? He wants to show her... what? What does that mean? She lowers her head slightly, still feeling buffeted by the turbulent emotions of the five other people only inches away. "Thank you, I am feeling better. I was able to work all night. I was worried about you. All of you," she adds hastily. Although she does not know Lt. Onn well enough to worry about her specifically.

"As for the gym... if you think it is a good idea. Whatever you wish," she finishes in a rush, trying to think of the least troublesome answer so she can shut up and ignore the claustrophobia that seems to be crushing her.

Vargas listens to Onn, then says, "As to the bruised arm wisecrack, stow it, Lieutenant. You may ask to speak to the Captain privately if there's more you'd like to say about the Aelyrr. As to another guard for them, point taken." He says to Collins, "You and Graham keep an eye on our guests as long as they're aboard the ship. Let Three Crows handle the Security console on the Bridge for now."

Once Onn is out of earshot, he adds, "You should keep your hands to yourself in future, Mr. Collins. Onn isn't in your chain of command but is senior to you. An apology to her would not be out of order." He leaves for the Brig.

The rest of you take a tense turbolift ride to the Bridge. Singh is already in the big chair, and Bennett is back at Navigation. Alveron and Eris stand near the Captain. T'Var is at Life Sciences, and Three Crows at Security. The Red Alert klaxon stops blaring when Singh punches a button on her chair arm.

The viewscreen is filled with a giant, fiery cloud of debris. Bennett is saying, "...much bigger than would be expected from a Klingon scoutship - three to four times as big an explosion. I don't know what they were carrying to cause such a huge blast."

Collins has a moment to tell Graham of Vargas's orders. Onn, Rangin and Kylah may take their posts as the officers there rise to make way for you.

Fresh from the cosy environs of the turbolift, Rangin is only to glad to get away from the stifling silence. There is little he can say about Graham and no doubt he will be, once again, warning Kylah about how dangerous a person Rangin is.

He heads across to the Science Terminal and gets a brief update from whoever is sat there. Next he will begin scanning the area to see if there is any sign of explosive material or extraneous matter above and beyond that of the Klingon scoutship.

If he gets a chance he will politely enquire of the Aelyrr, "Excuse me ma'am," to whichever he can attract the attention of, "could you tell me what the codex is made of. I would like to confirm for certain whether it was in the explosion or not."

As they exit the lift, Collins motions to Graham to stick with Eris and that she'll stick with Alveron.

Rangin soon brings himself up to speed on the Science console. He sees that Bennett is correct, and that the explosion is much bigger than might have been expected for a ship of that size and configuration. Readings in the vicinity are still very much in flux, but he does see indications of tricobalt residue in the quickly-expanding debris field, which stands almost directly between the Yorktown and the nebula.

Alveron says, "The Codex is written on hanaal paper, very thin and very old, and its carrying case, the Naraeveo, is of the same metal as my armbands."

Graham notices that Eris seems aware of Collins's gesture. The Aelyrr warrior stares at Graham and cocks her head; her eyes widen slightly.

By the time she reaches the Helm, Nia has long forgotten the staggeringly unprofessional, yet entirely predictable, behavior of their First Officer.

She was disappointed that Collins still hasn't learned a bloody thing since she stepped on board the ship, despite Nia's advice to think before she acts--and Nia's willing to bet that she's not the first to have recommended that tactic--but given that the Chief of Security himself tacitly encourages such displays of aggression and disrespect by not immediately addressing them, Collins lacks a decent role model.

By the end of the tense turbolift ride, the only thought Nia bothered with was a mental shrug of Too bad. Waste of potential. Maybe she'll learn as fewer and fewer people respect her as a leader.

But interpersonal conflicts don't matter now. Nia casts a quick glance at the Aelyrr without showing her suspicion, but returns her focus to the large control panel she shares with Bennett.

"Captain, I suggest immediate evasive maneuvers to avoid that debris, if possible." She prepares to get the ship the hell out of the way in any direction Bennett plots, in case Singh gives the order. Her inner engineer adds: "And if the Naradraen doesn't have its shields or engines back yet, I recommend we use our tractor beam to drag her along with us. Or at least extend our shields."

Kylah is aghast at the loss of life, now confronted by the visible and sensor-related evidence of the catastrophic disaster.

Duty-wise, there is not much she can do except half-heartedly check to see if there has been any response from the various messages she sent requesting information about the ancient Caitians. Of course, if the Captain agrees with Lt. Onn's recommendations, Kylah expects to be ordered to contact the Naradraen or Cheverez directly.

After looking in her mailbox, she thinks of the quiet but hard words uttered by the Lieutenant near the conference room. Perhaps Kylah can help gauge the Aelyrr's intentions, at least a little. She closes her eyes for a few seconds and focuses on Alveron. As hard as the Aelyrr are to read, she was somewhat able to take their emotional temperature before. Perhaps she'll be lucky now.

Graham holds up his hands, palms up, disarmingly and smiles slightly as he catches Eris' eyes and approaches the Aelyrr un-hurriedly. "Nothing to worry about, ma'am-I've just been assigned to keep you company and make sure you're comfortable while on the Yorktown."

Rangin takes a brief scan of Alveron's armbands and then feeds the results into the main Science console before getting the main sensors to search the debris.

He also passes across details of the tricobolt signature to Security, to see if they have any weapons, Klingon or otherwise, that match it.

Bennett says, "Neither we nor the Aelyrr ship are in any danger from the debris field, Captain. The Klingon scoutship had been traveling away from us for more than half an hour at just under Warp 3. By the time the field reaches us it will be too diffuse to cause any harm."

"Thank you, Mr. Bennett," the Captain says, leaning forward in her seat. "Mr. Onn, prepare to take the Naradraen under tow with a tractor beam, just the same. Set a course for the Klingon ship's last position, but don't engage yet."

Kylah finds no incoming messages of note since she was last at the Communications console. Alveron, she perceives, is very upset and concerned - about what, the young Elasian officer cannot be sure - but is holding her feelings tightly in check. Kylah then realizes that the Captain is looking at her with concern. Singh says, "You look all in, Mr. Kylah. You've stood a double watch, haven't you?"

Eris says to Graham - a little warily, he thinks - "Thank you, Ensign. It's always good to be in the company of another warrior."

After his scan, Rangin sees that the high priestess's armbands are made of a metal previously unknown to Federation science. It has some of the properties of silver but is clearly not that element on a molecular level. A thorough scan of the debris field will take a few minutes; he begins it.

Ens. Three Crows says from across the Bridge, "Captain, Mr. Rangin has found indications of tricobalt residue in the debris field. Klingons do occasionally use tricobalt explosives."

"Yes, of course," Singh says. "Do your people, High Priestess?"

"No," Alveron replies. "I have never even heard of it."

"Nor have I," Eris says.

"Would a holdful of tricobalt, given a scoutship's cargo capacity, yield this large an explosion?" Singh asks.

Three Crows runs a simulation, and passes along the results to Rangin, too. "Yes, I think so, Captain," she says, "depending on type, structure and trigger method. It's big, but it's possible."

Kylah looks as alert as possible. "Aye ma'am, I had a double-watch yesterday morning and late last night, with Lt. Thalen's permission. But I was taken off watch shortly after the boarding party left here. I was able to sleep in the meantime." She cannot help giving a sidelong glance at Velir--who could easily reveal that she was sleeping at her keyboard--before returning her attention to Singh. "Regarding the tricobalt... it could have another name in the Aelyrr language. It seems unlikely that the translator could identify the correct word for such an obscure term--it would have to have heard it from them at some point."

From where she stands, next to Alveron, Collins asks of the entire bridge crew "Is there any chance that the Klingons somehow beamed off the scout ship with the codex before the explosion? Any traces of another ship nearby?"

"Checking for any remains now ma'am," replies Rangin as he get the biosensors to look for any signs of biological material although he is not expecting to find any given the explosion. Then again, a few remnants of cells may still be around here or there.

Singh looks unconvinced by Kylah's answer. "That can't have been much rest. Hmm. Take another ten minutes, Mr. Kylah, and then send for Mr. Thalen to relieve you, if you please."

Eris asks, "May I see your scans of the tricobalt residue? Perhaps I will recognize it."

As before, Rangin sees no traces of any other ship in the vicinity. No scans taken while he was aboard the Naradraen revealed any, either. There are faint signs of Klingon biomatter, and some other organic matter, in the large, still-expanding cloud of gas and debris which is all that remains of the Klingon scoutship.

Rangin gestures Eris across to his console to bring up the details for tricobolt while refining his searches, once again, to try and find traces of the scroll covering, which is similar to the armbands, and to decipher what the differing organic matter is drifting in the debris.

Blushing at Singh's order--which tells the entire crew that she is not fit for service--Kylah just nods, murmurs her assent, and swivels to face her currently useless panel. I must have some purpose, why can I not simply sit here and be available for translation if needed...?

The thought of translation reminds her of the prisoners now sitting in the Brig. Eventually they must be told about their lost comrades; why not now? Maybe after hearing their ship has been destroyed, they might speak? Even a few blurted words of anger or sorrow could be a clue; with her knowledge of tlhIngan Hol, Kylah might understand what the translator cannot. Getting virtually thrown off the Bridge might not be a bad thing after all: at least it allows her to test this theory.

My chief trouble will be getting past security--and I will likely fail--but at least I can try.

Eris looks over the tricobalt specs and data. She says, "I am not a scientist, but I recognize this. This is what we call gellyer. It is a very potent explosive, and the Klingons often used it in our civil war."

Rangin determines that the biomatter - none of it bigger than a thumbnail - includes carbon, nitrogen, calcium, hydrogen, oxygen, phosphorous, sulfur and some trace elements distinctive of, if not unique to, Klingon physiology. Dr. T'Var helps him with biomedical cross-references from her Life Sciences console. The young Coridanite xenobiologist sees no trace of the Aelyrr strong, silvery armband metal - which Alveron identifies as naryen - in the debris and gas cloud left by the destruction of the Klingon scoutship. As his scan proceeds and the cloud further dissipates, he is surprised when his console beeps, indicating that there is naryen beyond the cloud.

Graham politely and sincerely--well, nearly entirely sincerely--nods acknowledgment of Eris' comment. While the sensor jockeys are scanning the debris he runs through in his mind what he observed about Eris' apparent combat capabilities while the Aelyrr was struggling with the Klingon...just in case. Didn't look as strong, quicker...apparently tried to use fangs in hand to hand combat...Tail appeared to be for balance only and not a weapon in itself...

Rangin passes the data for the biomatter across to T'Var leaving her to detemine what the extra content may come from, before refocusing back on the curious matter of the naryen.

"Ma'am," he calls out to the Captain, "it appears there is no trace of the codex within the blast radius of the ship. However, there is a trace beyond. Analysing now."

Collins says nothing as she stands there, but listens with interest. Maybe they beamed the codex off the ship expecting another mercenary ship to pick it up? she ponders.

With considerable difficulty, Rangin is able to detect a very faint sign of a spacecraft beyond the debris and gas cloud. It has stealthy design features but is not cloaked. The naryen is inside it. He refines the scan further and sees that it is a Klingon shuttlecraft, heading directly away from where the larger scoutship was, and racing at Warp 7 for the nebula beyond.

Singh walks over to stand at the red Bridge railing near Rangin.

Like so: https://theignorantbystander.files.w...irk-bridge.jpg

"That can't be right," the exclamation half muttered under his breath as Rangin cajoles the sensors into giving him the readings on the small craft. Puzzled by the output, he sets off a diagnostic to ensure the sensors are accurate before half-turning round in the chair, with a slightly perturbed look, towards the captain.

"Ma'am, the sensors are reporting a Klingon shuttlecraft moving at Warp 7 just beyond the blast radius and heading into the nebula. It also appears to be carrying the codex. It's not cloaked and from its size I doubt it will get very far despite its speed, but that does mean that it is likely to be heading for a very specific point and pickup."

Without thinking he turns back to the console and relays the flight details to the Navigator position for them to start computing a course if needs be.

Nia, finished preparing to tow the Naradraen, raises an eyebrow.

So the Klingons have cloaking ability and shuttles that can go Warp 7. How come they're getting all the cool tech? Acquiring various defeated planets' technology, I suppose. Damn, the Empire clearly has better taste when choosing which planets to conquer than the Federation does when it draws up its diplomatic agreements.

Aloud, she murmurs, "Sure is lucky to have someone who knows what he's doing at the sensors," not bothering to look at the self-proclaimed sensor expert Bennett. Funny that someone--who was so certain of her scientific prowess that she'd put a shieldless ship at risk--somehow missed the presence of an uncloaked Klingon shuttle. Why did it take Rangin to find that shuttle, especially since it wasn't cloaked?

Bennett's overconfidence notwithstanding, Nia doesn't see what the big revelation is. "Okay," she adds with a shrug. "That diversion took up about five minutes of our time, but I don't see how any of this changes anything. So we briefly thought the scout ship exploded and destroyed the Codex. Doesn't seem to have harmed anyone--even the High Priestess and Eris have barely had time to show any grief; I think Kylah showed more concern than they did, but then she's... very sensitive." A basket case, is what Nia thinks, but obviously doesn't comment on that.

"Luckily we've already got a do-over. I mean... Does it really matter which band of Klingons now has the Codex? It's like that Earth saying, 'meet the new boss, same as the old boss.' We are still going after them, aren't we, Captain?"

"Smells like a double-cross to me," Graham says, glancing at Nia and then Collins. "If we're talking mercenaries, somebody either didn't want to share with his cohorts, or else took a contract from a different client on the sly." He shrugs and rubs his chin. "Blowing up the ship keeps things nice and tidy--and it does argue for a rendezvous point or ship some place nearby. But--yes, I suppose an even lower level of scum, but basically six of one, half-dozen of the other."

Three Crows nods at what Graham said; Eris looks thoughtful.

Rangin confirms that the shuttle is indeed moving at Warp 7. He is not sure how long it can sustain such a high speed.

Onn runs a quick simulation on her board and sees that at that velocity, and given its current course and location, it would have left the scoutship less than a minute before the explosion. It will reach the nebula boundary in less than three minutes.

"Pursue it, please, Captain," Alveron says, her voice cracking. "They cannot be allowed to escape, after their crimes. We must recover the Codex."

Singh nods. "Lay in a pursuit course, Mr. Bennett. Warp 8, Mr. Onn, when you're ready. Mr. Three Crows, prepare a spread of four photon torpedos. Set them at half yield; I want a bracketing salvo to knock them out of warp and disable but not destroy them. Fire on my mark."

"Aye, Captain," Bennett and Three Crows say almost simultaneously.

Nia flashes a small smile at Booker when he agrees with her, then snaps her gaze back to Singh. She returns the older woman's order with a crisp, "Jumping to Warp 8 on Nav's say-so, aye Captain," repeating the command to indicate she's understood and will comply--standard for any experienced officer.

Her hands are already in place while her gaze focuses on Bennet's actions on the panel. Once the course is set, Nia will immediately act as necessary.

"Better be ready for company," she says softly, almost a mantra. Could be a Bird of Prey hidden in the nebula. Shuttles aren't ideal for long distance journeys, even with such impressive engines, and the Klingons probably have something more suitable on standby; the mercenaries or pirates or whatever they are have to get home somehow.

'They.' Why am I assuming multiple saboteurs, if that's happened?

Her thoughts give her a frown. "Rangin, don't suppose you can tell how many are on that shuttle, can you? Or ascertain that they are Klingons?"

Temporarily tuning everything else out, Kylah refines her sensors to see if she can pick up any trace of a signal. She concentrates on every slight flux in the wave pattern all along the band to discern if there's anything identifiable as communication coming from--or to--the shuttle. Thoughts of contacting Thalen to replace her are dismissed--hopefully Singh will realize changing horses midstream is not a good idea.

Especially since she feels more alert with a new idea. "Excuse me, Mr. Rangin?" she asks in a quiet voice. "I too have a question. I find it... puzzling... that they are not cloaked, despite our presence. Normally I would assume this would mean they do not have a cloaking device, but given the remarkable capabilities of this shuttle it seems doubtful. So..." She turns slightly to Graham for confirmation, wondering if she is being too paranoid. "Could they be leading us somewhere, intentionally?"

Collins considers all the theories that are being bandied about. But she's not concerned. Although the Federation's mission is one of peace, she knows every Academy graduate is trained to be ready for anything. Reflexively, she readies herself to jump into action, then remembers, almost sadly, that she's just a bodyguard for now.

Rangin works furiously, not only to answer all the questions being thrown at him, but to coax every possible reading out of the sensors to give them an edge. His hands are no longer tapping away at the panel in front of him, just a careful nudge here and there, a slight adjustment, a little extra in one direction, a little less in another.

The bio scans have been passed off to T'Var and he hopes she is making good progress with them, although the same thought as Lt Onn occurs and then something further. "Dr T'Var, are we getting any life signs from the shuttle at all? Because if we are following something on automatic, shooting at it isn't going to help." On a hunch, he also adds a note to the extraneous bio signs from the shuttle debris to T'Var asking if the extra matter could be classified as Aelyrr.

He swivels the chair round again to face across to the Comms area and sees Kylah fixed in place, concentrating while still waiting for an answer from him. "Mr Kylah, can you see if there is any kind of homing beacon or signal being used on this trajectory." He taps a few keys passing across the trajectory before turning back round. "You will probably have a better chance if there is anything there, than I will."

Kylah nods. "I am already trying to find any signal or attempt at communication, either from a living being or a computer, going to or from the shuttle. The nebula might cause interference, but I will try to account for that."

Bennett plots the intercept course and nods to Onn, who sets and engages the warp drive. The Yorktown leaps forward, the engines' drone going higher and higher before leveling off. In seconds, the heavy cruiser is racing towards the debris cloud.

Rangin and T'Var focus the lateral sensor array's biosensors. They determine that there are three Klingons aboard the shuttle, which is about half again as big as a standard Starfleet Class F shuttlecraft.

T'Var says, in response to Rangin's question, "The biomatter in the debris cloud might be Aelyrr too, I suppose, but I see no sign of it. There's nothing distinctively Aelyrr about these readings."

Kylah detects no beacon or signal that might be guiding the shuttle into the nebula. She discovers, however, that the shuttle is now broadcasting a repeating coded message on a different subspace band than the Yorktown had earlier been jamming from the scoutship.

Three Crows says, "Torpedoes ready, Captain." She adds, concerned, "It'll be a tricky shot, though. At this speed, I can't guarantee that the shuttle won't be significantly damaged or even destroyed."

"Two steps ahead of me as usual, Mr Kylah." Rangin shakes his head ruefully before returning to his sensors

Kylah reports the transmission to her shipmates, and immediately alerts Lt. JG Garcia, in hopes that the decryption expert might be able to assist in decoding the message--there might be only a faint chance, but it is better than none.

The news about the number of Klingons aboard the shuttle belatedly reaches through her focused mind, and she inhales sharply. Only three? With the four Klingons aboard the Yorktown, that means...

"There were at two dozen on board that scout ship," she says in quiet horror. "If these three betrayed their cohorts, they killed nearly twenty of their own."

"Captain", Collins says upon hearing Three Crows assessment of the shot "I could do it, sir. Easily." She doesn't step forward yet. She half expects the Captain to tell her to shut up and stay where she is.

Nia winces inwardly at Collins's remark. Full points for enthusiasm, but none for tact. In any event, all the discussion of torpedoes seems premature.

"Captain, with respect, I think using torpedoes at all might be too dangerous to the very precious item that we've been asked to retrieve. Maybe there's another option?" She licks her lips and stares at the viewscreen, not that there's much to see yet except the rapidly approaching debris cloud.

"First, while we were supposed to be safe because we were far from the debris, our trajectory is heading us right into the cloud. Not sure that's ideal when we can swim around, above or below it. No offense, Bennett," she says offhandedly.

"Second, what about the tractor beam? Hate to sound like a broken record, it's not like I love grabbing stuff, but I'd much rather try to lasso that ship than potentially blow it up, along with the valuable cargo.

"And third," she adds, her eyes looking up automatically while she tries to calculate. "At Warp 8 we should get to... wherever the Klingons are heading... before they do. Once we get close enough to them, launching a shuttle of our own will give us the ability to flank them. Yeah, our shuttles are much slower than theirs, but pure inertia would keep us at Warp 8--hell, we'd have to use a few pulses of the engine in reverse just to slow down. Coming from it head-on, both the shuttle and Yorktown have a better chance at accuracy so we can avoid blasting that thing to pieces."

Rangin also focuses a set of the sensors ahead of the path of the escaping shuttle. If something is going to appear, he wants to be ready for it and give as much warning as possible to the Yorktown

Kylah listens more to the signal than the discussions around her. She catches enough to note with some detachment that it seems typical that each officer leans toward their own expertise when dealing with this issue. Security officers want to blast things. Pilots want to perform daredevil stunts. The scientists are analyzing. And I am no different, she thinks dryly. I just want to talk and listen and decode, as if language is the answer.

...Except she does think communicating might get them somewhere. Why are they not sending for the prisoners, or ordering someone to talk to them? What side would these survivors be on, the three up ahead... or their now-dead companions, presumably killed by the others' actions?

They may say nothing. But it certainly seems worth a try. Kylah is afraid to say anything further, and does not.

Instead, she continues to monitor the signal both aurally and visually, glancing at the waves now and then. The rest of the time, her eyes are occupied by her datapad. She has begun to calculate whether it would be possible to jam the shuttle's message by overloading the band with a mass of unimportant high frequency data. Kylah knows the signal and recipient are both probably too far away--as of yet--but the closer the Yorktown gets, the more possible it might be.

Naturally she doesn't actually jam the signal yet, not without asking Singh or hearing from Garcia about whether decryption is possible. But at least I can be ready if the time comes.

Garcia tells Kylah he'll take a look at the coded Klingon message. Despite his best efforts, he has made no progress with the earlier one she asked him to look at.

"That the Klingons would kill others of their mercenary band to escape with a priceless artifact," Alveron says in disgust, "does not surprise me in the least."

"Jam the Klingon signal at once, Mr. Kylah," Singh orders. "Mr. Collins, switch posts with Mr. Three Crows." The Amerindian female gives up her post to Collins without argument, and goes to stand near the Aelyrr.

"Going around the debris cloud will make it harder to catch the shuttle, Captain," Bennett says. "They had enough of a head start we'll be cutting it pretty close, as is."

Lt. Lars Dahlquist speaks up from the Engineering console. "Using the tractor beam at this speed, ma'am, or anything over one-eighth impulse, would be very risky. Grabbing the Klingon shuttle would probably rip our tractor emitter right out of the ship. I'm not sure about a shuttle launch at that speed, either. I've never heard of that being done."

"And I am very concerned about the use of torpedoes, Captain," Alveron says. "Please, do nothing that might result in the Codex being destroyed."

"Thank you, High Priestess," Singh says. "I understand your concern." She looks around the Bridge. "Any other recommendations, or feedback on Mr. Onn's?"

In his scans, Rangin sees nothing ahead of the Klingon shuttle other than the nebula itself.

Nia smiles despite the gravity of the situation, and murmurs teasingly to Bennett, "I think you underestimate both your own skills at plotting a safe course, and the ship's ability to catch up with a tiny shuttle going at a slower speed than we are. As the Yorktown's current avatar, I might take umbrage at that insult."

Raising her voice, she turns back to the captain. "For the record, ma'am, I'm as sure of my ability to get that shuttle safely out of the hold as Collins is of her trigger finger." With a nod at Alveron, she adds, "At least this option should be considered if we want to avoid the danger to the Codex."

Nia now splits her attention between Dahlquist and Singh. "As long as we keep the shuttle inside the ship's warp bubble--using the normal tractor beam used for launches--the shuttle'll be going at Warp 8 for as long as the ship is. The Yorktown's helm could then start slowing in preparation for meeting up with the Klingons, who'll now be in front of us. The ship turns around, carrying our shuttle along until the Klingons are in sight, then cuts us loose.

"Sure, once outside the bubble we'll start slowing down to the max of our shuttle's capacity, but we will get there. The Yorktown would basically be using the shuttle like a thrown weapon, heaving us at the Klingons. If nothing else, they'll have two targets to shoot at, and I bet they'll pick the Yorktown. That buys us time to use a more subtle approach." Nia's eyes gleam at the thought. "To use one of your Terran legends as a metaphor, it'd be Goliath using his slingshot at David."

Nia lifts her shoulder as if apologizing for her passion and nods respectfully at Singh, though she knows her eyes are probably giving away her interest in the adventure. "Whatever's best for our current mission, ma'am. Heck, if you need us to beam over to the scout ship, once their shields are down, I'll volunteer myself."

Kylah acknowledges Singh's order and carries out the procedure to jam the Klingons' signal. With a swallow--she has had no backing from Graham, and apparently no one else has any qualms about the shuttle not using a cloak--she swivels her chair around toward Captain Singh.

"Ma'am," she offers, "While there's still time... I think it might be beneficial to talk to the prisoners. I know it has been tried, but that was before all this." She gestures toward the debris cloud.

"Perhaps if we told them what happened, they might be as surprised by the sabotage as we were. And if we stress that if they had been on that scout ship, they would be dead too... they might wish for vengeance and thus give up their original plans. Including the identity and location of their original customers for the Codex, if that was indeed their goal."

It is hard to imagine Klingons being so craven and spiteful. But everything about this group is vile; they have performed sneaky, manipulative acts that are an anathema to the way an honor-bound Klingon warrior thinks.

Then again, these are clearly not the same sort of Klingons with whom she and her family have spoken, broken bread and drank draughts of blood wine. Greed begets much evil. Maybe the threesome who betrayed their partners preferred to split their fee for the Codex among themselves. Sharing thirty-three percent of the loot is far more tempting than 1/26th.

She falls silent and looks back at her panel, making sure the signal jamming has not been overridden by the enemy.

Collins takes her post and aims the torpedoes. She sets them in a spread just wide enough to produce the equivalent of an EM pulse around the Klingon shuttle without a direct hit. She now has to wait for the order to fire until the Captain listens to the other suggestions, "Captain," Collins says, "if we wait too long to fire the torpedoes, the detonation could be close enough to the nebula to ignite it. That would surely destroy the shuttle, and may possibly do some damage to our shields. If we're going to shoot, now is the time."

Nia frowns. How would one ignite a nebula without the presence of oxygen? Nevertheless, she has an almost intuitive sense that Collins will likely do well, and so she says nothing about the likelihood of combustion. Let Rangin or Dahlquist teach the science class.

Still, she sure wishes that sensor machine were able to detect the presence of a Bird of Prey--or anything else--nearby. There must be a reason the shuttle is heading for the nebula.

Singh nods approvingly. "Sounds like a gutsy plan, Mr. Onn. Run a simulation, please, and quickly."

To Kylah she says, "Thank you, Ensign. Pass along your idea to Mr. Vargas in the Brig. And send an update of our status to Starfleet Command and Mr. Cheverez, please." The young Elasian woman sees that the Yorktown's powerful subspace transmitter is easily jamming the shuttle's much-less-strong one.

Dahlquist shakes his head and says, "There's no reason to think this nebula would ignite, ma'am. We could use weapons in or near it without any risk of that."

Graham agrees with Kylah's concern that there may be another ship nearby, but--distracted by trying to closely observe the two Aelyrr's reaction to events--he realizes he only nodded to the back of her head while she was checking her console, something she would surely not have seen. His attention is caught by Nia's offering to volunteer to board the shuttle, which he hardly thinks is a good idea: we're not going to seize it an enter it into a flying competition, we're going to disable it and take her crew into custody. She doesn't need to volunteer any more than I need to volunteer to fly the the next shuttle mission...

Given the public context and the fact that it doesn't appear to be relevant at the moment, he's smart enough to keep his mouth shut about it.

With a little flutter of pleasure, Kylah accepts Singh's order and hurries to tap out the suggestion to both Vargas and Thalen in a high priority text message. She hesitates before adding that she knows some Klingon and a bit about their culture--understatement feeling like the safest option here--and suggests that, since the captain has indicated that she wishes Thalen to take over here on the Bridge, Kylah herself might be of service in an attempt to bargain with the prisoners.

She then updates Starfleet Command, and finally Cheverez back at the Naradraen. To the latter, she asks: Do you have a status report you would like me to pass along, sir?

It takes some effort to sublimate the urge to pump her fist and cry out a triumphant yes!, but Nia keeps herself professional. "Aye aye, sir, running a sim now," she says perkily and sets about the task.

The adrenaline rush flooding her veins, typical before any such venture, is so powerful she feels like leaping up and grabbing Booker in a fiery kiss. This desire, too, has to be clamped down on--more's the pity. Instead, while she inputs the necessary data into the computer, she just flashes him a smile and a glance fairly crackling with electricity.

Just for certainties sake, Rangin does a forward scan of the nebula, checking the fringes where the shuttle is heading to, just on the off chance that Collins is right. Better safe than sorry after all.

Then he sets up some scans of the area based on the shuttle its speed and direction and how long he thinks it might be able to continue its journey before running out of fuel. If anything new moves in that small sector of space that isn't a particulate, he wants to know about it.

Graham sees that both the Aelyrr are very intently watching what's going on around them. Eris leans in to quietly talk to Alveron now and then; the Security officer can't hear what she says.

The First Officer replies to Kylah: Thank you. Still trying to talk to the Klingons, who are saying very little. Will let you know if you're needed. VARGAS.

From the Aelyrr starship comes a coded subspace message: Your update acknowledged; thanks. Repairs proceeding well here. Aelyrr crew very helpful. Nothing to report otherwise. Good luck! CHEVEREZ.

Onn's piloting simulation synthesizes the proposed actions she inputs, several kiloquads of engineering and structural data, classified Starfleet Tactical analyses of Klingon ship-to-ship combat techniques, and Class F shuttlecraft rated-performance specs, both standard and emergency. The computer mulls it all over before reporting:

Likelihood of successful shuttle launch at Warp 8: 88.7%
Likelihood of successful shuttle transition from starship warp field (current Warp 8) to its own (max Warp 4): 65.2%
Likelihood of Klingons firing upon shuttle: 82.3%
Likelihood of destruction of shuttle: 53.1%

Warning: Unknown, unanticipated or misunderstood variables may significantly change outcomes.

Rangin's scans lead him to agree with Dahlquist that the risk of igniting the nebula is vanishingly small. The Klingon shuttle is already outperforming any such vessel in Starfleet's database of Klingon small craft; any estimate as to its fuel capacity or consumption rate would be highly speculative. Sensors reveal nothing artificial within scanning range other than the debris cloud, the Naradrean and the Klingon shuttle. He sets up an automated-warning program to immediately let him know if anything else appears.

Nia lets out a tiny growl that's probably audible only to herself--well, and possibly Bennett. Looking over the parameters of the sim, she notes with optimism that it didn't take into account her own record and skills; it's just taking the average stats of Class F shuttles vs. whatever-the-heck this Klingon shuttle type is called.

But Nia is a realist, and she knows that, just as the sim didn't take her skills into account, neither did it compute the skills of whatever Klingon is at the helm. She can hope for a clod but might vie against a master. Not that she's found Klingons to be geniuses at finesse. They're thugs with battering rams who'll bash in a door that wasn't even wholly closed, while Nia, to continue the metaphor, is a lock picker and cat burglar.

Wtih a shrug, she reports the sim findings to Singh and finishes, "So, we've supposedly got more-or-less even odds. I think it's woefully underestimating my prowess, but I would, wouldn't I? If I were alone I'd take the chance, because I know what wondrous feats I'm capable of coaxing out of one of our shuttles."

Her playful expression sobers somewhat. "But were I in a position to do so, I would only order anyone to take the risk with me if the matter were significantly more of a life-or-death situation. No offense to you or your faith, High Priestess," she adds respectfully before returning to Singh.

She takes a deep breath and exhales. "Ma'am, you know my abilities and the computer's estimates. You're certainly the best judge of what our priorities should be. I stand ready and willing, whatever you decide."

Kylah thanks Cheverez and wishes him and his team the best, and passes along the update. She hesitates before relaying Vargas's response. "He says they are not having any luck with the Klingons, but will consider me if they are in need. Although it seems that they already..." She really does not want to argue with the Captain about Vargas, even if this were a good time to do so--and it most assuredly is not. So she lets her words trail off, turning back to her panel.

It makes no sense that, if Vargas is getting nothing out of the Klingons now, he would decide against any offer of assistance. The decision to avoid seeking her assistance must be due to either Vargas's own stubbornness, his pride, or his low estimation of Kylah's usefulness. And Kylah knows Vargas does not have, has never had, much if any confidence in her.

He feels she owes her place on board the Yorktown entirely due to political influence. She was pushed on him and his ship, pushed through an accelerated course in the Academy, and even pushed on the Federation itself before Elas was officially in consideration for membership. All of which is accurate.

But notwithstanding these facts, Kylah believes she would have reached this level anyway, even without the political maneuvering and manipulation. Perhaps not as quickly... but as low as her confidence is right now, she does not doubt her language and cultural awareness skills.

Maybe Thalen will speak up for me in private, to Vargas? It seems the only likely way to get past Vargas's apparent certainty that she is nothing but an honorary officer; little more than set decoration to trot out for occasions like the dinner that honored Vice Admiral Hardin.

Perhaps I will never prove myself, she thinks grimly as she watches her monitor.

At least the jamming seems to be working, which is good. A flicker of curiosity makes her wonder if--now that the shuttle's communications will appear to have stopped transmitting--the intended recipient of these signals will send off a query in an attempt to ping the now-seemingly quiet shuttle.

Kylah strengthens the power to the ship's receiver as high as possible, hoping that if the shuttle was trying to contact a specific listener, she'll be able to catch the latter trying to reestablish the connection. An attempt that is as unlikely to succeed as her own attempt to communicate with Vargas.

Singh acknowledges Cheverez's update. Kylah detects no response to the now-jammed Klingon signal, which was an omnidirectional broadcast.

Dahlquist says, "Having seen them myself, I don't doubt your piloting skills in the least, Mr. Onn. But assuming you successfully launch our shuttle and get close to the Klingon one, what would you do next? And might you not block a torpedo shot, if necessary, from the Yorktown?"

Graham feels more than slightly out of his element: this ship-to-ship strategizing is far more Nia or Bennett's domain, especially when there's top priority on "not vaporizing" the other ship.

He frowns. "How durable is this codex?" he asks Alveron. He shrugs slightly and glances at some of his colleagues. "We should be able to wear down a shuttle's shields easily enough--rather than torpedoes, or a shuttle intercept, we could take a more pinpoint approach to breaching the hull, and pick the codex up after its crew asphyxiates."

Alveron looks very uneasy, if Graham is interpreting her catlike face's expression accurately. "The Codex itself is a fragile and priceless antiquity; its carrying case is considerably stronger, but I would not want it exposed to weapons fire or hard vacuum if at all possible."

Bennett says, "Klingons know how to fight in vacuum. They'd have spacesuits, or airmasks at the very least, if we tried to decompress their hull."

Nia darts a look at Booker, not sure whether to laugh or be concerned by his casual willingness to asphyxiate an entire crew. Unconsciously her hand lifts to toy with the silver chain against her clavicle, which is all that can be seen of the inhaler tucked beneath her uniform. She returns to Dahlquist.

"We'd use the Tesla. It's got the strongest shields by far, and I'm sure you remember that it's being used as a test bed for arming shuttlecraft--" She realizes this isn't necessarily public information, which makes her pause, but then decides it's not confidential, either. "--Not that this'll be regular Starfleet policy; there are almost no armed shuttlecraft that I know about. But having one on board each Constitution-class ship is a possibility--at least, some think it should be. I sure do."

Nia's gaze scans the security officers on the Bridge, wanting all of them in on this. "The Tesla's got a single phaser emitter that's locked and loaded, so to speak. And in fact, earlier this week, a bunch of engies and I were running some experiments on the practicality of adding a photon torpedo for heftier missions. Luckily enough, the prototype external photon tube is still attached. That one's not loaded, needless to say; we didn't plan on bringing it live yet. But it's ready for an actual warhead, if we want it. And I would."

Her arm drops back down to rest on the side of the panel, leaning against it. "So. My plan would be to take the Tesla out, held in the loving arms of the Yorktown's tractor beam. I suggest that once the ship makes the turn, you get nice and close to scare the sh--heck out of them. With the lowest setting, Collins gives 'em a little tap with a phaser, just to show we care."

She smiles and rubs the helm affectionately. "Remember, the shuttlebay is aft, so the Klingons won't be able to see the Tesla. As you give them that gentle knock on their front door, release us. I'll have our engines off and through inertia, we'll coast, sliding under the bellies of both the Yorktown and the Klingons.

"Without our engines, and with you big as life in their screens, their sensors shouldn't even notice us as anything but space flotsam or jetsam." Her hands describe the movement--her left hand above, right hand below, cast as the Tesla. She moves both in tandem, then suddenly swerves the upper hand upwards while the lower hand coasts beneath the invisible Klingon shuttle sandwiched between them.

"See, they'll be preoccupied with you flying over them, and that's when--if Collins's gentle phaser blast didn't take down their shields--I'll bring the Tesla back to life and phaser them from below. They'll probably have started to turn port or starboard just to get away from the massive ship heading right into their faces; if so, I'll follow."

Nia glances down at her screen. "I don't care what that sim says. Confronted by the Yorktown and the tiny little Tesla, no way a Klingon wastes firepower by focusing on a mere shuttle. If you're simultaneously attacked by a giant flame-throwing dragon and a bee, do you worry about the bee? Hell no. It would be suicidally stupid And Klingons are not stupid, whatever we may think of them."

She hesitates and looks around. "There's more, but... does anyone have questions so far?"

"I like it" is all Collins says.

"The plan is risky, very risky, but seems sound, Captain," Bennett says.

Dahlquist nods. "I concur."

"Very well," says Singh. "Proceed, Mr. Onn. Select your shuttle crew and move out. Time is short." She presses the white intercom button on her chair. "Shuttlebay, this is the Captain."

"Shuttlebay here."

"Prep the Tesla for immediate launch, including loading its photon torpedo tube. Priority One. Lt. Onn will be down with her crew very shortly."

"Aye, Captain. Shuttlebay out."

Eris says to Onn, very firmly, "I would like to go. An Aelyrr should play a role in the recovery of the Codex."

Collins's Tactical panel buzzes. The Yorktown, she sees, is now within torpedo range of the Klingon shuttle.

Rangin is only paying half his attention to Lt Onn's perhaps more outlandish idea of using a shuttle. It's not his area of expertise so he has no idea whether it would be a sane thing to do, although dropping out of the USS Yorktown at Warp 8, sounds like a rollercoaster ride he isn't sure he wants to be on.

The rest of his attention is spent trying to get more readings on the fleeing Klingon shuttle. If he can work out its shield strength, armament, warp drive capacity and so on, it could prove vital to stopping it, not to mention that Starfleet would love to find out about this new vehicle the Klingons have been hiding.

Nia nods and turns to Collins. "You're staying here, since we need a good shooter with a subtle hand, and you seem to be ready to take that kind of a shot." To Bennett, she adds: "Between the Yorktown and Tesla, we can circle that shuttle like a pair of sharks. I'll be able to get her shields down and knock her out, then we order them to surrender the Codex." To Singh: "Once the shields are down and their shuttle's inoperative, you can beam the Codex off. If worse comes to worst, we'll board. Klingons aren't the only ones who can wear EV suits. At least I'll make mine look good."

Her mind is busy trying to think of a crew. Considering the danger involved, she doesn't want a full complement. But just in case boarding is involved, she needs at least four.

But while she thinks, she adds another suggestion to Singh. "If I may recommend a replacement for me at Helm, Captain, I'd go with Lt. Pourtash. Given how close you need to get to the Klingon ship, and the quick move upwards--it's basically a game of 'chicken'--all of our helm officers are capable, but Pourtash is the one whose hands seem the nimblest."

Nia's very tempted to make a crack about Cooper, but she swallows it back. There's no more time for her to hem and haw about who's going on the shuttle.

"Eris, of course, you should come along. I want to keep this party as small as possible, just in case that sim is right. I'd prefer to ask for volunteers, but..." Nia purses her lips. "Three-Crows and St. Croix, and handling the weapons..."

She looks at Booker and her heart does a sudden lurch. Does she order him on what could be a kamikaze mission, or leave him here with no role? Searching his gaze, she tries to read what he might prefer.

"We're in range, Captain." Collins says. She nods in agreement with Onn's assessment of her targeting skills. She turns her attention to her targeting panel and waits for Singh's order to fire. She makes little adjustments to the angles as they get closer. She'd prefer to blow the Klingons out of the water, as it were, but she knows the goal is to rescue the Codex. Even if these Aelyrr are one of the rebel factions, the Codex should not be in Klingon hands.

Singh says, "Thank you, Mr. Collins. Stand by." She turns and says to Kylah, "Have Lt JG Pourtash report to the Bridge on the double. Have Ens. St. Croix report to the Shuttlebay. Tell her it's for an off-ship assignment; Mr. Onn can brief her once she gets there."

Eris takes a step towards the turbolift.

Graham's surprised and a bit alarmed Nia didn't immediately name him to her team for this mission...on top of running after that Klingon on her own, should I be worried about something...?"

She at least glances his way. "If you're looking for volunteers, ma'am, how about 'any combat veterans of open war with the Klingon Empire please raise their hands?'" Graham suggests, raising his.

Nia responds to Booker's comment with torn feelings. She's glad to work by his side and trusts his talent. But part of her flashes on a vision of some mistake, some misjudgment on her part, causing him harm...

Suck it up. Everyone you're leading will be royally fucked if you mess up. Bright side, you won't be around to know it.

She swallows, moves past her dilemma and nods at Booker. "Right. Mr. Graham, thank you. Just the man I was looking for." The words are out before she realizes the double meaning. If she were the type to blush, she would. Instead she adds to Kylah: "While you get St. Croix, tell her to grab a phaser. We'd better arm up, just in case they board us or we have to board them."

Then she starts toward the turbolift, commenting as she passes Dahlquist:

"By the way, Mr. Dahlquist, I never answered your question. As for the Tesla getting in the way of the Yorktown's torpedo... if I were clumsy and blind enough to let that happen, please let that torpedo blast me and put me out of my misery, because I'd need a mercy kill. Besides," she adds with a quick, confident smile at Collins, "I think Collins can tell the difference between that ugly bucket of bolts the Klingons call a shuttle and our sweet little Tesla."

Waiting with Eris by the turbolift for Booker and Three Crows to join them, Nia nods her head at Singh. "Captain. I'll be in contact. I won't let you or the High Priestess down."

Once everyone is ready and the turbolift opens, Nia will enter.

Kylah feels the thrum of mixed emotions throughout the Bridge, and it heightens her own anxiety somewhat. But she follows the captain's orders, hailing Pourtash and passing along the command. She is about to switch to St. Croix when she overhears Nia's request.

She glances at the captain to make sure she agrees with the addition. If Singh nods, she will hurry and direct St. Croix to the armory and then the shuttlebay.

Collins smiles when Onn comments about her ability to tell the shuttles apart, but stays focused on the targeting arrays.

Graham joins Nia and the others in the turbo lift, somewhat concerned but keeping his demeanor neutral as this was certainly not the place to ask his questions: was Nia intending to go without me? I'd be useless in some fancy flying scenario, but in the case of boarding--that'd be crazy...Or did I do something wrong earlier?

He re-focuses on the mission. "Uh, Eris--" he says quietly, addressing the alien. "I understand your feelings toward Klingons, but while on a Starfleet mission--our, ah, 'warrior code' is that we take incapacitated enemies prisoner. They'll be held to account--hell, maybe even in this case turned over to your people at some point--but in the meantime--no summary executions."

Once everyone's in the turbolift, Nia latches onto the handle and utters a crisp "Deck six" to get to the armory, not even hearing herself. Her mind is preoccupied, having begun its journey into pre-flight mode--especially necessary given the incredibly short amount of time she'll have between having conceived the strategy and executing it.

But Booker's hesitant voice enters her consciousness and when she hears the words "warrior code," she finds herself listening to him more keenly.

His words surprise and please her. This, from the man who was willing to blast a hole in the shuttle and kill the whole crew. It's exactly what she would have said to Eris, and even the way he addresses her is just the right tone.

She can't help sending him an affectionate glance, wanting to touch him physically but only able to reach out with her gaze. "Thank you, Mr. Graham," she says quietly, and nods at Eris. "Our goal is to retrieve your Codex. Capturing the Klingons is a secondary objective, and punishment is not even on the table. Defense, yes. But I doubt it will come to that, in any event. I'm gearing us up to be ready for any boarding scenarios, because better safe than sorry. Otherwise, I expect us to knock out their shields so that the Yorktown can beam the Codex--"

Nia suddenly cuts off and blinks at the Aelyrr warrior. "Wait a second. There isn't a problem with that, is there? Transporting the Codex? I know the Klingons already did it, but given your religion's thoughts on transportation... Is that something we need to consider?"

Singh nods in approval regarding Onn's order to St. Croix.

As the Tesla party leaves the Bridge, Alveron places her trembling, thin paws on her arms, then extends one of them towards you. She says, "May Ael bless you in this sacred undertaking, my children, and may She protect and guide you as you take back what eternally belongs to Her people."

Collins sees that she still has a good torpedo lock on the fast-moving Klingon shuttle.

Pourtash arrives on the Bridge and takes the Helm.

Singh hits her intercom button again and says, "Engineering, this is the Captain. Let's squeeze a few more points out of the warp drive. Prepare for Warp 8.2. We'll be launching a shuttle, and I want them to have a little extra time to deal with the Klingons."

"Aye, ma'am," comes Delaney's response from belowdecks. "Stand by... ready now."

"Proceed, Mr. Pourtash," Singh says.

"Warp 8.2, aye," Pourtash says, pressing the keys of his console, and in moments the Yorktown's engines' pitch rises slightly higher. By intercom, Singh tells Onn what she's doing.

In the turbolift, Eris says to Graham, "If I can avoid killing another Klingon, I will. If I cannot, I will not." To Onn she replies, "I am a warrior, not a priestess. It would be better to get the Codex without beaming it, but what is most important is that we get it."

Nia hears the change in the engine even as Singh tells her the increase in speed. She thanks the captain but Eris's words make her pause before returning her communicator to its slot on her duty belt. Crap. "Yeah, Eris, I appreciate that. Big fan of warriors myself. But I'm not putting a bunch of my people in harm's way to beam that Codex back only to have your Priestess cry that it's been despoiled or befouled or whatever."

Her voice barely pauses while she flips open the communicator. "Onn to Rangin. Ensign, I'm contacting you because you had a bit of religious rapport with the Priestess on the shuttle, and also because the Captain might be occupied. There's a wrinkle we need to iron out. No one accounted for the fact that the Aelyrr religion disallows transporter travel 'cause it's unholy."

She glares at the turbolift doors as if trying to intimidate them into opening on Deck 6. When they do, she'll stride forward and continue without missing a beat. "So can you please confirm with Alveron that beaming the Codex back to the Yorktown is acceptable? Because if it's not, I wanna know ASAP. And tell the Captain we'd better prepare for this becoming a boarding mission--or we cancel altogether. If we beam it over and ruin it, this risk is pointless. Thanks."

Nia walks into the armory and eyes the weapons. She tosses an inquiring look at Graham and the other security officers. "What's the well-dressed Klingon-fighter wearing these days? Phaser 2s enough? Seemed good on the Naradraen, but these are mercs who apparently play with big explosives. Not saying we need a phaser cannon, but...for all I know, maybe we do. Advice, and fast."

Rangin is surprised to receive a comms call while scanning, but flips it up and listens to Lt Onn's query. "Yes ma'am, I'll get back to you as quickly as I can." he responds, time being of the essence.

Closing the unit and instead of putting it away, he holds on to it for easy access. He turns round to look for the Aeylrr priestess who last seen hovering near to the Captain's chair and after a brief check that nothing has changed on the terminal in the last few seconds, he smartly heads down and attracts her attention.

"Excuse me ma'am, I have an urgent question from Lt Onn and Eris requiring clarification. Is it acceptable to use the transporter on the codex? I do understand you have certain strictures against it's use, but is it feasible?" He waits for the answer

Graham exhales and scowls slightly. Rubbing his chin, he responds to Nia. "That's a good question. Ordinarily, I'd want phaser rifles any day dealing with Klingons. But in tight quarters, on a shuttle we're unfamiliar with?" He shakes his head. "Over-under says stick with deuces. Easier to maneuver and if we really cut loose with rifle firepower we're too likely to fry up something we shouldn't. Or, ah, vent ourselves into space."

In the Armory, Three Crows says, "Phaser-2s should be enough, ma'am, but we can take phaser rifles too, if you wish." She smiles. "As an old Scout, I believe in being prepared... for any eventuality."

Alveron looks very tired. She says slowly to Rangin, "I would much prefer it not be beamed again, but it has been before - not by us - and if there is no better way to recover it, then I consent."

"Thank you ma'am," Rangin says appreciatively to the elder Aelyrr seeing the weariness, "I'll let them know immediately."

He heads back to the Science console flipping open the communicator on the way. "Rangin to Lt Onn. Consent given to transport the Codex, but only if necessary. Rangin out."

He turns back to the monitoring, anxious to see what it can tell him about the shuttle and making sure nothing else has appeared in the vicinity.

"One for, one against. Let's compromise." Nia reaches for a rifle and tosses it nimbly to St. Croix. "The rest of us will get phaser-2's as usual, leaving St. Croix prepared to avenge us if it turns out the 'deuces' were unlucky. Sound good?" She picks her weapon and eyes it. "Highest stun level."

"Okay, what else." She visualizes a checklist of what they'll need. "EV suits will be in the shuttlebay, and we should each pick one out. I'll stress again that a boarding situation is unlikely--unless we hear otherwise from the Priestess--but if the Klingons blast a hole in the Tesla, or we need to get onto theirs, we're gonna be damn glad we're wearing those suits."

She claps the phaser in its proper place on her belt and pats it. As she does, her stomach growls. Oh right. Food. Breakfast would've probably been a good idea. Better grab a protein bar from one of the kits on the shuttle. Swallowing, as if that will stave off the hunger, Nia tilts her head toward the turbolift. "Whenever you're ready, let's get going."

That's when her gaze falls on the Aelyrr. Forgot about her. What do I do? "Eris, I know you can use weapons, which is pretty admirable considering your..." The word 'paw' just seems wrong, somehow, so Nia covers quickly. "...Your physical attributes don't seem set up for our sort of weaponry. Besides, you come with your own." She curls one hand into a claw-like gesture, then turns to Booker and St. Croix.

"I actually don't know Security policy on this. Do we hand out weapons to non-Starfleet personnel? What's the procedure here?" Frankly Nia is disinclined to give Eris a weapon; she still doesn't entirely trust the self-described warrior. Once they decide what to do about the Aelyrr, Nia's anxious to get to the turbolift. Her feet are already leaning forward, almost bouncing a little from her high energy and readiness to get the heck to the Tesla already.

"Well, if we're talking about guests of the Yorktown, as I see it we're not asking Eris here to engage in any combat, she should hand back and let us take care of that, if necessary, so under these circumstances we wouldn't issue anyone a weapon," Graham replies. He shrugs slightly. "On the other hand, outside of normal protocols for carrying weapons onboard the ship-say, if someone was accompanying a landing party as a guest rather than a detainee and had weapons of their own, we wouldn't insist on disarming them." He pauses. "Although in a tactical situation like a possible boarding under fire..."

He glances at St. Croix. "We'd prefer to handle that ourselves, uh--I mean with Starfleet personnel only. Even someone very well-trained may have been trained in a completely different way... If anybody 'zigs' when the others expect them to 'zag' we really ratchet up the risk from friendly fire."

Nia, glad that Booker's thinking is in line with hers--though perhaps not for the same reason--gives him a friendly nod of thanks. She belatedly hears her communicator hail and checks in, hearing Rangin's message. Her thumb taps out a simple Thanks - & I mean for everything -- NIA in reply while she looks up at her team.

"All right, folks," she says to the others, including Eris in her sweeping glance. "Word from Alveron is, if at all possible, get the Codex without beaming it back, but she'll accept it if the transporter is the only way."

Nia doesn't waste any time in moving to the turbolift. "Once you're all ready--Three Crows, you'll take a Phaser-2 as well?--then let's get to it. That shuttle's getting closer to the nebula as we speak. And I'm sure we're all curious to try on the latest in EV wear." If everyone follows her into the turbolift, Nia will ask for Deck 20.

Three Crows looks a little disappointed not to be taking a phaser rifle from the Armory, but she picks up a phaser-2 and moves on.

Eris says evenly, "I am armed. I will not need one of your weapons, but thank you."

As ordered, St. Croix meets Onn and the others in the Shuttlebay. Lt. Hans Meyer, the shuttle maintenance crew chief, a middle-aged Austrian, says to Onn, "The Tesla is ready to go, ma'am. We've already gone through the preflight checklist, but of course you may wish to double-check it. The phaser bank is fully charged and you have two photon torpedoes loaded and ready."

On the Bridge, Rangin finds that sensor scans of the Klingon shuttle are telling him nothing new. It's possible the Klingons are using sensor countermeasures of some kind, or there may be interference from the nearby nebula. He still sees no other ships in the area other than the Naradraen.

At her Communications panel a few meters away, Kylah has an intercom contact; it sounds like a young Human male. "Pardon me. This is Dr. Brold's assistant. He's concerned about the sensor prototype and the testing we'd expected to do. Is there any danger? Are we still going on to our destination? Just a moment... uh, I know there's a Red Alert, but he... uh, he says he'd like to talk to the Captain." His voice seems friendly and pleasant, and Kylah finds it somewhat familiar.

Kylah, who was watching the entire discussion between Dahlquist, Onn, Graham and the Captain, is preoccupied with her concern that the dangerous plan might lead to disaster.

There are so many ways this could go wrong. The mercenary shuttle could destroy their own, a cloaked Bird of Prey could appear out of the Nebula, an attempt at boarding might lead to injuries or deaths--or if the Klingons end up boarding the Tesla, even capture and hostages...

With her exhausted mind worried about such grave circumstances, the thought of Brold caring only about his experimental machine seems almost comical.

She frowns in irritation. Actually, given the man's tone, he sounds as if he is somewhat embarrassed by having to pass along this request. She wonders whom he reminds her of--Kylah cannot remember having met any of the party that boarded with Brold.

In any event, his humility makes her bite back the acerbic retort that just sprang to mind. She gives a soft, weary sigh, and with a covert glance at Singh, responds in a murmur, "I am sorry, sir. We are about to engage with Klingons, and I dare not bother the Captain now unless it is an emergency. Please tell Dr. Brold I will have her contact him once this is all..."

Her voice falters and she looks at the main viewscreen. She has a bad feeling about this encounter, and her own uselessness does not help. She shakes her head and continues hoarsely. "Once this is resolved."

Nia thanks Meyer under her breath and does indeed take a look at the checklist, although she has never known there to be any sloppiness before. But she'll be damned if this happens to be the first time and she fails to catch it.

"Two torpedos, hmm? Well, happy birthday to me," she mutters, eyes scanning the list. "In the meantime, all five of us in the squad need to get outfitted with EV suits--everything but the helmets for now, please; that can wait till we're inside. Not sure if we'll have anything ideal for our felinoid guest, but she'll have to deal with having that tail cramped for a while." She shrugs and returns her attention to the list.

Assuming everything seems fine, she'll turn to the Tesla itself. The weaponry probably makes the shuttle seem more ungainly than it is. She's run flight sims with everything but the oblong torpedo tube, which is the most recent addition to the experimental vessel. Hopefully everything remains in order, as it was a few days ago when she last saw it.

Next--again, as long as there's nothing that raises concerns--she'll give Meyer a quick rundown of the plan, since he'll be overseeing things from in here. Mostly she wants to reassure him that after the shuttlebay is depressurized, the hatch opens, and the Tesla starts its launch, he shouldn't raise an alarm when the shuttle's engines get cut off.

"I'll be doing that on purpose once I know Yorktown's tractor beam has us in place. The Captain probably informed you of this but, y'know. It's an unusual plan, so I just want to make sure we're all in sync."

She'll then don an EV suit herself, holding the helmet at her side. Under normal circumstances, the Captain or First Officer would be here to see them off, but the Yorktown's most senior officers are otherwise engaged. That leaves Nia to inspect the squad one last time before they enter the shuttle.

Slightly surprised to see the more informal response from Lt Onn, Rangin shakes his head and turns back to the sensors.

Now having a firm grasp on the fleeing shuttle, and annoyed that the standard scans are not being as responsive with information as he likes, he starts using the more obscure spectrographic sensors to see if they can return anything, all the while resigning himself to the fact that until the shuttle comes out of warp, he's unlikely to get anything specific.

The man talking to Kylah says, "Thanks. That's about what I thought, but he insisted I ask. Sorry to have bothered you." He pauses. "If you don't mind my saying so, ma'am, you sound tired. Long watch?"

Meyer acknowledges Onn's orders, and sees that everyone on Onn's shuttle crew is given spacesuits from a nearby storage room. The crew, including Eris, quickly dons them. Each passes Onn's inspection and boards the shuttle. Meyer and his two maintenance specialists leave the Shuttlebay at once.

Rangin's spectrographic analysis of the Klingon shuttle reveals that its hull is standard Klingon tritanium reinforced alloy. Structural and tactical scans show the small craft has a single airlock, five small forward viewports, two aft outboard warp nacelles and two disruptor banks, one fore and one aft.

Collins feels as though she's been waiting days for the Captain to give the order to implement Onn's plan. She stays focused on her targeting scanner, her hands on the panel, ready to go at Singh's word.

Surprised by the question--and the concern--Kylah is brought up short and realizes that having deprived herself of sleep for so long, she cannot hide it, cannot even think straight. The captain was right. If I put it off any longer I will pass out again.

The possibility of losing consciousness in the middle of a far greater crisis, with Graham and the others in danger... She must not allow herself to be such a distraction. The thought is so awful that she responds with unintentional candor. "Yes," she says in an exhale, her body shuddering. "It has been a very long watch. But I am going off-duty, and..."

Realizing that she is rambling to some stranger, Kylah puts a hand to her forehead. "I am sorry, I just meant... I will make sure my superior knows that Dr. Brold wishes to speak to the Captain. Thank you for your concern." She closes the connection, bites her lip, and follows through with the captain's earlier order to contact Lt. Thalen so he can replace her.

When through, she types up a quick update so that Thalen will be up to speed on her work and the situation in general. In truth, she will be glad to leave the Bridge. The tension is so thick and electric it is almost physically uncomfortable for her.

Rangin smiles a little at the new data that comes his way. Finally, he's beginning to get somewhere with the data. Nasty little ship as well, by the looks of it.

He glances round to the Security station to see Collins hunched over her console, apparently tracking the shuttle as well and then wonders why she isn't trying to ask for this kind of data. He can't help but roll his eyes and then transfer the sketchy schematics across to her, and then for good measure send the same schematics to the Tesla.

If we are going to get into a fight with it, best to have at least an idea of what it can do, as well as what we can do to it, especially the fact it can fire both forwards and backwards.

Nia makes her way to the front of the Tesla and when she passes Booker, taps his shoulder. "We've rigged up the weaponry so that it can be controlled from both the pilot and the co-pilot's seat. And this is exactly why--I need you to handle them. I want my mind focused on our not getting blasted, and aiming the Tesla so you can blast as needed." She smiles at him to show her confidence, and most importantly her confidence in him.

She takes her seat, secures her helmet behind the pilot's chair where it won't get in the way, and swivels to face the others.

"If this goes according to plan, I fully hope that later today you'll all be complaining that you wasted twenty minutes on a shuttle doing nothing. But there's a chance we'll end up in face-to-face combat if there's a boarding scenario. So right now, make sure your weapons are on heavy stun, top setting. We want a nonlethal attack."

This isn't just to re-emphasize Booker's warning to Eris--although that's a good portion of it--but the others need to hear this too. "These Klingons stole something extremely valuable that's worthless to them on its own. They're working for someone, or likely have a customer in mind. To get that info out of them, we need them alive."

She takes a deep breath and continues. "In the meantime, buckle yourself in and hold on tight. We'll be heading out at whatever speed the Yorktown's at, as long as we're in the ship's containment bubble, though they'll be slower than we are now. But there's gonna be a sharp deceleration once the Yorktown gets far enough away and we're no longer hitching a ride. I'll be cuing the engines by then, so the inertial dampeners will protect us from ending up like bugs on a windshield, but we'll likely still feel something. Just brace yourselves, and--excuse me, something's coming through..."

She reads the data sent from Rangin, her eyes lighting up at the information about their target. It's not good news--with fore and aft disruptors, she'll need to keep the Tesla parallel to their port or starboard sides--but she'd rather be informed than ignorant, and until now they didn't seem able to get a handle on what this shuttle is like.

At least now she knows where to aim first: get through their shields and, hopefully, take out the weaponry. Good to see the position of the airlock, on the off chance a boarding is required. Wait. Oh damn. The Klingons aren't gonna just hear us knocking and let us in.

She picks up her communicator and contacts the armory. "Onn here. I need something small, portable, to blow an airlock door. You got any small charges you can beam over to me ASAP? I'm on the Tesla here in the shuttlebay?"

She grinds her teeth at her own stupidity and passes a sheepish look toward Graham. Great way to start a mission. Well, damn it, it's only been ten minutes since I thought of the idea. While waiting for the response from the armory, she murmurs low to Graham, "Please let me know if I'm forgetting anything else, will you?" Another thought occurs to her. "And can you ask Eris what her weapon is? I don't want any surprises."

Graham smiles in return, cracks his knuckles and takes a look at the weapons console in response to Nia's comments about "blasting."

A moment later, he shakes his head. "Huh, funny, I guess the fact that we're dealing with Klingons took me back to uh, more military focused assignments back in the day--didn't occur to me the shuttle wouldn't be stocked with breaching charges. But then again that was a reflection of a pretty damned bad time between the Klingons and us." He clears his throat. "Nothing I can think you've forgotten - but I'll check on Eris," he adds just loud enough for Nia to hear.

Graham approaches Eris and take a seat next to her.* "You said you were armed--anything besides, ah, claws and teeth the team needs to be aware of?" he asks quietly.



* if she's sitting, either taking a seat next to her or a knee in front of her to be face to face rather than looking down at her

Thalen soon arrives and relieves Kylah; he briefly looks over her notes and nods. "Thank you, Mr. Kylah. I relieve you."

"Well done, Ensign, and my thanks," the Captain says, turning briefly from the main viewscreen as she sees Kylah preparing to leave. "Get a good rest. You've more than earned it."

The Armory has four antimatter grenades beamed in a rugged carrying case to the Tesla. The ovoid, matte-gray explosives are standard Starfleet issue and about twice the mass of a communicator. Each has a small control panel with a safety lock, timer, proximity-detonation function, adjustable yield, and options for either magnetic or chemical adhesion, as needed.

Eris heard Onn's question and responds to her directly, "I have a knife and a phaser." To Graham she says rather dryly, "I don't expect to be able to use my claws and teeth through this spacesuit and helmet. Can we go now, please?"

Nia is gladdened by Booker's smile and his words, as well as the sight of the chargers appearing in the shuttle. Sweet. As Booker heads over to Eris, Nia takes a surreptitious last breath from her inhaler and tucks it back inside her suit. She then thanks the Armory officer and powers up the shuttle's engines.

However, just when she's about to contact Meyer and give him the signal to begin the depressurization of the shuttlebay, she hears Eris's response to Booker. The Aelyrr's attitude--particularly her impatient question--raises Nia's eyebrows and her ire.

"With respect, ma'am," she says in a voice as hard as her scales, "this isn't a hired shuttle-cab. You're aboard this vessel at my sufferance. I've got the lives of three crewmates in my hands, and I'm risking them all for a piece of paper that has value only to you. So while I assure you that I'm in the same hurry you are, I'm damn well not leaving before I know we're prepared."

She relaxes and lets her tone return to its usual serene smoothness. "...Which we happen to be, now that we're adequately equipped to retrieve the Codex according to your priestess's wishes." Her lips twist sideways. "And by the way, if we do get in a face-to-face fight, you have my permission to remove your helmet and gloves so you can bite and scratch all you want."

With a silent sigh, she glances at the co-pilot's seat to ensure Booker's back and strapped in. Once he is, she'll contact Meyer and the Bridge to tell them that the Tesla is okay to go.

Kylah backs up a step. "Thank you, ma'am; Lt. Thalen." She next looks at Collins, wishing her luck with a silent nod--of course, the security officer seems to be concentrating so fully on her controls that she will probably not notice Kylah's gesture, but Kylah nods just the same.

On her way to the turbolift, she cannot keep her gaze from finding Velir. He too is focused on his job--everyone is but her, naturally--but she wants to see him nevertheless.

Concentrating on the sensors, Rangin can vaguely hear the arrival of Lt Thalen and Captain Singh thanking Kylah for her hard work. It's a good idea, she'd looked so tired when he found her asleep and she needed a rest more than anyone.

Goodnight Kylah, he whispers under his breath and he stops just for a moment as he wonders why he cannot say it straight to her. If only things were not so difficult then he certainly would have wished her that as she headed for some well-earned sleep.

Perhaps he should...perhaps it would help to break down the barriers between them again, a simple act of acknowledgement, Rangin owed her that for certain after all she had done over the last few hours as he leans back from the sensor screen to turn round in his chair and...

...sees her turning away and heading for the turboilift.

Her gaze had passed over him, at least it seemed to have, and he had missed his chance. She looked slightly relieved to be going but there was a half smile just lingering. He sighs feeling guilty for not saying something sooner as he watches her tiredly step onwards, one hand raised to half stifle a yawn. Shaking his head as he turns slowly back to the console, he considers that it would be best to let her sleep first and talk to her afterwards, there is still so much to do here. In fact tomorrow, before the next shift, would be a much better idea as she isn't the only one who could do with a few hours respite.

Hearing the sound of the turbolift doors behind him, he guesses Kylah must be on her way and he considers that he should, no he must do something, even if it's small to show that he is going to work out whatever might be between them or not.

Thumbing open his commuicator, he sends a brief message, "Thank you for everything. Sleep well. Velir." before closing it and going back to the monitors.

"So many Red Alerts in so short a time," grumbles Ajay as he finishes the checklist showing the galley is secure and still annoyed by the lack of sleep that had been disturbed by the Klaxons. He'd been intending to spend an evening brushing up on Vulcan Massage techniques and instead this was the second time in a row the place was on lockdown.

The news of the new furry aliens on board has spread a bit despite them only just arriving and the fact they were now chasing after a bunch of Klingons didn't help his demeanour. Chances of him actually being able to meet said aliens is vanishingly small seeing as he isn't going to be of prepping any food for them from the Lower Galley. Regardless it was done, time to head for the secure area.

Heading for the exit, he feels the communicator go off and he looks down to see a message appear. "read in 6 hours" It was from Nia and his heart sinks. She had only just got back from one dangerous mission, so if he is getting texts like these, she has to be off on another one again. He considers asking a few people to find out what exactly it is that she has planned, but in a Red Alert, they would be manning their posts instead. With a gnawing sense of discomfort he starts moving again. He'd already wished her luck once, it was bad luck to do it again.

Ah, who's he kidding, she'll be back in a few hours demanding a stiff drink and a massage. He grins as the lights flick out and he heads off.

Once he has strapped in and checked his board, Graham turns toward Nia slightly and gives her a thumbs up.

"So, I ah, have heard rumors you knew something about flying. Let's see it first hand."

Eris says, "I understand, Lt. Onn, and of course I'm grateful for the chance to help recover the Codex Aelyrr. I am simply impatient to proceed."

Everyone is buckled in, secure and ready to go in the Tesla.

Singh replies to Onn, "Acknowledged, Mr. Onn. Launch immediately. With our increased speed, you have about two minutes before the Klingons reach the nebula."

Everything looks good on Collins's and Rangin's boards. The Coridanite notices some sensor fuzzing beginning along the leading edge of the nebula; he knows it would be best if the Klingons were stopped before they ever reached it.

Nia murmurs words that acknowledge both Eris's apology and Booker's encouragement. But she's barely aware of what she says. Her thoughts are moving away from the living beings on the shuttle to the Tesla itself. Its sounds, vibrations, buoyancy--all are familiar, like an animal she's broken, trained and ridden all her life.

Her hands are poised carefully on her panel when she hears Singh's approval. "Aye aye, Captain. Waiting for depressurization." Once Nia gets the green light and the shuttlebay doors open, she launches the Tesla and edges it forward. She bites her lip as a reminder to restrain her usual inclination to rush the shuttle out into space. Easy girl, she says inwardly, maybe even mouths the words, which are aimed both at herself and the ship.

Unlike a typical launch, she does little more than hover, bringing her only a few dozen meters out from the Yorktown. Once the shuttle is just clear of the Shuttlebay doors, she engages the starboard thrusters with tiny pulses, carefully turning the Tesla around so it faces the same direction as its parent ship.

"Tesla to Yorktown," she says in a tight voice, having to balance the directional thrusters with great care to match the racing Yorktown's angle perfectly. "We're in position and ready for the tractor beam to be engaged."

Rangin frowns noticing the ever approaching proximity of the nebula, even though it's the ships racing towards it and not the other way around. Calculating the speeds, he sets up a couple of timers showing how long it would take for the respective ships to cross the boundary.

And if they can't stop the shuttle in time, Rangin throws a few scans forward to see what impact the nebula would have on the shuttle and the Yorktown.

Rangin sets up his timers. You are now less than two minutes to the edge of the nebula. Sensor interference will become considerably worse once the Klingons reach the nebula, and given the gas cloud's size, it might take a long time - maybe never - before the the small Klingon craft can be located inside. Sublight travel is Starfleet SOP for travel through a nebula of this density.

Singh says, "Acknowledged, Tesla." She hits the shipwide intercom and says, "All hands, this is the Captain. We'll shortly be engaging in high-warp maneuvers. Hang on; this could get bumpy. Singh out." She then says to those in front of her, "Mr. Pourtash, lock onto the Tesla with the aft tractor beam and hold it within our warp field. Mr. Bennett, take us up to Warp 8.3, and get us out in front of the Klingons. Mr. Collins, stand down torpedoes, charge phasers and lock onto the Klingons' warp drive. "

They acknowledge their orders.

The heavy cruiser surges forward, the warp nacelles protesting the dangerous speeds being asked of them, and the Tesla comes along, beginning to shake with the strain.

Nia grits her teeth and holds more tightly to the panel and prays to the Tesla. Hold on, don't fall apart on me now. This is just the appetizer.

"Onn to Bridge," she says, her voice sounding as if she's jogging. "Our actions need to be in sync for this--especially Pourtash, Collins and me. Remember the order of actions--Pourtash, bring the ship ahead of and around to face the Klingons. Fly right at them.

"When you're at 20 seconds to impact, Collins--hit 'em with the non-destructive phaser, I'd prefer the weapons but that's the Captain's call. Same time, Pourtash, you release the tractor beam to jettison the Tesla and flies the Yorktown up and over them. You'll be large as life and right in their faces. Let the Klingons strain their fat necks staring up at the Yorktown and only the Yorktown.

"Since I can't see anything but the Yorktown's backside, I'm flying blind here until Pourtash releases us. So I need someone to give me a countdown and tell me what's going on. Acknowledge?"

The shakiness bothers her; she doesn't want to sound afraid. It's really the Tesla's straining that's causing it. She throws a quick glance at Booker beside her, then the crew in back.

"Listen up," she shouts over the noise. "Once we're released, we'll slide at warp 8.3 until we're past the edge of the Yorktowns warp bubble. No way we won't feel that change in speed, even with the inertial dampeners. If I can get us close enough beneath the Klingons, we might end up in their warp bubble, which means another impact, this time as we're jerked backwards. But that's only if they stay at warp. Let's hope they don't.

"Either way they're going in the opposite direction, so until I swing the Tesla around to match them, if the dampeners can't adjust fast enough it'll feel like we've crashed into a cement wall. No lie, that's not gonna be fun. Brace yourselves."

She looks at Booker. "As soon as we're underneath the Tesla, phaser the hell out of them. We want their weapons out, then their shields, in that order."

Graham nods, checks the console, and makes preparations.

He's not sure what Nia means about "weapons first then shields"--it just may be that fully disabling the shuttle's weapons requires knocking down her shields.

But he decides she has enough on her plate and he understands commander's intent well enough.

"We want unable to shoot and unable to shield," he replies. "Understood." With a glance toward her, he adds quietly "And don't space the 'magic book.'"

Nia hears Booker, mentally runs over what she just said, and is furious with herself. Shit, get your head in the game. "Damn it," she says to Booker. "I meant to suggest weapons over warp drive, not shields. But I get Singh's rationale for her choice. If they disappear into the nebula and we can't find them, it won't matter what weapons they have. I'd better stop backseat driving before they second-guess my sanity and scrap this plan altogether." She shakes her head. "Thanks, Book. Glad you're here." But not if I end up killing you.

Collins adjusts from the torpedoes to the phasers at Singh's orders and says "Acknowledged!" over the comm to Onn.

Only glancing up for a moment from the console, where he's thinking about the best ways to tweak and target the shuttle's weapons, Graham adds quietly "Don't worry about it, I've got your back, Nia." He smiles as he turns back to the board. "Just fly the hell of this thing."

"Acknowledged, Tesla," Pourtash says, his voice strained. The Yorktown is starting to shake, too. "Stand by."

Thalen syncs the countdown chronometer from the Yorktown with that on the Tesla, so Onn and the others can see the time remaining. He keeps a channel open so that they can hear what's happening on the Bridge. He says aloud, "There are now 23 seconds to impact... 22... 21...."

Bennett deftly brings the heavy cruiser over and then ahead of the Klingon ship, still at extreme speed, looming suddenly directly in front of and above it as she turns. Graham imagines that he can almost sense the startled reaction of the Klingon pilot.

Hanging on for dear life, St. Croix gasps.

Watching the chrono closely, Singh says, "On my mark, fire phasers, Mr. Collins... NOW!"

Pourtash releases the tractor beam and the Tesla heaves like a bucking bronco as it slips out of the Yorktown's warp field momentarily into normal space. The nebula now fills the Tesla's front viewports; the Klingon shuttle is an obvious, irregular black shape silhouetted against it.

Collins fires the phasers. She feels a sense of excitement as she watches the plan unfold.

Confident in Nia's piloting abilities, Graham proceeds with certainty he'll have a firing opportunity. Based on his experience with shuttles--and Klingon spacecraft--he plots two firing solutions, one a "heavy punch" intended to overload its shields and another lower-powered blast with which to target weapons or propulsion without causing a chain reaction that blows the damn thing up.

I hope these jokers stow their weaponry and ammo halfway properly and keep up with minimal maintenance, he thinks.

Nia knows it will take all her best reflexes and skill to get the Tesla under control, especially now that she's cut the engines to their lowest setting--letting inertia work for her to propel them forward--until the shuttle gets beneath the Klingons, ideally without being noticed. She sees the phaser from the Yorktown in a lightning-fast look upwards before refocusing entirely on getting on course. Not an easy task when the thrusters are at minimum power.

"Everybody, hold on, we'll get through this!" she says in a loud but firm voice, wanting the squad to hear her and know she's still confident.

If the shuttle has an option for manual helm control, Nia will activate it and use the controller, which will allow her both better physical control of the shuttle, and also to reroute more energy to life support and weapons.

Rangin suddenly freezes as he notices the one thing in this entire plan that isn't been watched...the Tesla. Quickly he aims some of the scanners at the small shuttle hoping its not coming to come apart at the seams while monitoring its rapid deceleration. If anything is going to go wrong with it, he needs to be able to let everyone know there and then.

His eyes flicker from the timers to the status of the two shuttles to the surrounding area and even the long rage alert scans from the nebula keeping alert to the first hint of trouble; hands held ready to respond as and when, because its always when, something occurs.

Collins's first phaser blast misses its target by only a few meters, the ravenous twin blue spears of phased energy piercing empty space instead. Her second blast squarely hits the Klingon craft's blocky starboard warp nacelle. The Klingon tumbles for a second or two and its warp field collapses. It drops into normal space at once, both Starfleet vessels racing past it.

The Yorktown, going much faster, goes even farther ahead of the two small craft. "All stop," says Singh crisply. "Take us back, Mr. Bennett. Stand ready to fire again, if needed, Mr. Collins. Maintain shields."

Onn has full manual control of the shuttle's helm and nav systems. Life support is stable.

Graham's tactical panel shows the Starfleet shuttle's phaser bank and two torpedoes are nominal, with green status indicators across the board; Onn can see this, too. Graham soon has weapons lock on the Klingons; they still have their shields up.

Rangin sees nothing amiss on any of his sensors. The Tesla and the Klingon shuttle are not far apart, relatively speaking. Bennett and Pourtash snap the switches on their consoles and the Yorktown is, within moments, retracing its course and closing in on both.

Graham grunts with satisfaction, seeing the Klingon shuttle drop out of warp.

He calibrates the phasers and his target for maximum effect on the shuttle's shields and shield generator, privileging that over any other target.*

"Taking the shot in 3, aiming for maximum effect on her shields. She may fire back," he says out loud for Nia's benefit, working the console. In "3...2...1"



*If there is an external shield thingie to target, that's what he targets - if not he's aiming to overload the shields as opposed to pinpoint targeting her engines or weapons.

Nia nods at Booker's words, unable to respond because she's busy biting her lip in concentration as she uses the flight controller in an attempt to even out the Tesla, avoid knocking into the Klingons once they abruptly leave warp speed, and bring the Tesla underneath the Klingon shuttle's belly. Once Booker takes the shot, she releases her lower lip long enough to announce, "Restoring power." If the Klingons have been hit, they'll know the Tesla's here, so there's no point in keeping her offline.

"Aye, Ma'am" Collins says as she aims the phasers again.

Onn steers the Tesla swiftly towards the Klingons.

Just as Graham is about to fire, the Klingons fire first. A powerful, brilliant-red disruptor bolt slams into the shuttle's forward deflector shield, rocking the Tesla severely. Eris makes a low, displeased growling noise that reminds Three Crows of an unpleasant Terran cat she once knew.

Graham and Onn sees that the shuttle's forward shield has, with just that single enemy shot, been knocked down to 73% effectiveness.

The Yorktown is almost back within range.

Nia curses inwardly. Damn it, someone's timing was off. Bennett shot up too soon or Collins fired too late. She suspects the former. At the speed they were going, if the Yorktown had waited until the very last second to swing upwards as intended, the Klingons shouldn't have had the time to notice the Tesla behind her.

Nia realizes she knew this the instant she saw the dark shadow of the Klingon shuttle in the nebula. It was too far away. She shouldn't have been able to see the entire ship, just the front section as she piloted her downward trajectory.

No point in ascribing blame now. Nia focuses on executing an erratic barrel role along a parabolic arc, nothing with a pattern that the Klingons can predict. She wants that shuttle's bare belly open and vulnerable so Booker can phaser the crap out of it.

Graham's ready, fingers on the controls, eyes glued to the screen* to fire the instant Nia's acrobatic flying gives him a shot.



*I'm not sure whether in TOS they looked at "the view screen" or some specific "targeting screen" - whichever is right!

Kylah leans against the wall of the turbolift, trying not to fall asleep while still standing. She feels her communicator vibrate against her upper hip, indicating some kind of text message - it is probably not important. But she opens her eyes and pulls the device out anyway. Her heart gives a little thump when she sees Velir's name despite the awkwardness between them.

When the doors open on the corridor near her quarters, she steps out and pauses briefly to read the message. It is even kinder than she had hoped. With a sleepy smile, she walks slowly forward, absorbing Velir's words and letting herself imagine a time when they will both be happy - and together.

The corridor is empty but for a single young man in a red Engineering uniform walking slowly towards her, a sly smile playing around his lips. "As I live and breathe," he says, "if it isn't Ens. Kylah!"

Her attention still on Velir's message as she walks, Kylah hears the man's words as if through a fog created by her own distraction and lack of sleep. By the time she looks up at the sound of her name, her hand has already lifted to the panel that unlocks her cabin door. The sensor recognizes her and opens with a near-silent whoosh.

Kylah's first response when she sees who's addressing her is surprise, then confusion. Has she fallen asleep? She stops short and wipes her eyes, unsure if her blurred vision can possibly be accurate. But the reddish hair, night-blue eyes, strong but lean build, and attractive but overconfident face are still the same.

"I do not understand..." Backing into the open doorway, Kylah shakes her head in tiny, unconscious movements. "No. This is not possible. How could you be here? When did you--" She cuts herself off as her slow wits struggle to catch up.

That voice. The man who said he was Brold's assistant. His speech had been soft and low in her earpiece... and so familiar.

How could she not have recognized him? He sounds exactly the same.

But then, why should he have changed? It has only been a year and a half since Darren Zweller graduated from the Academy, the class ahead of hers. A flush burns her cheeks and her hands drop to her sides, now in fists. She cannot speak.

Zweller leans against the bulkhead near her, too close, and then leans a little closer still. "Not possible? Au contraire. Here I am, big as life. I've been aboard since we left Anubis. I'm just sorry I didn't have the chance to see you sooner - you've been quite the busy little Communications officer."

His condescension ignites Kylah's anger, and despite her exhaustion she rises to his bait. "Yes, I have been busy," she says hoarsely. "I have just made First Contact with an unknown race. I helped uncover a corruption and murder scandal. And what about you?"

She flicks a razor-sharp glance at his sleeve cuffs. "Still only an ensign, I see. You were such a high-flyer, the top of your class, supposedly on track to be the First Officer of a great ship. Now you are reduced to fetching water and taking notes for some scientist. What happened, Mr. Zweller? Did you make one too many unwanted advances on the wrong woman?"

For just a moment she has a glimpse of his temper, his rage, sharp and undiscriminating, before he regains control. He laughs offhandedly. "An ensign for now, yes, just like you. I'm actually touched you take such a keen interest in my career. I've followed yours, such as it is, since graduation. But since you asked, I don't mind telling you I'm working for a top Fleet engineer and making the kind of connections in San Francisco that will soon enough, don't worry, move my career well ahead of yours. I haven't been 'fetching water' - but neither have I been making a very public and immediately spurned pass at a superior officer. Or, for that matter, having to be rescued while on shore leave." He shakes his head. "How embarrassing that must have been for you."

His list of supposed achievements fades away once Kylah hears his description of her own activities. She can almost feel the blood draining from her face.

How does he know all this?

Rangin continues to monitor the two shuttles, take readings from the phaser fire and compile for future research.

The Klingons fire twice more, but miss both times as Onn takes the Tesla along a parabolic arc.

Graham sees his chance as the targeting reticule turns green. He fires, squarely hitting the Klingon shuttle once, and then missing. It begins evasive manuevers of its own.

On the Yorktown's Bridge, Rangin sees all this and is continuously recording data. He notes that the Klingons' course will still take them into the nebula, but obviously at a much slower speed. The heavy cruiser soon comes back within phaser range. "Drop to sublight," Singh orders, "but stay with them, Mr. Bennett. Keep us just opposite the Tesla, if you can. Target the Klingons' impulse drive and fire phasers at will, Mr. Collins."

"Aye!" Collins aims and fires one phaser after the other until the Klingons' impulse drive is disabled

"Damn good shot," Nia mutters to Booker, her eyes peeled on the Klingons. Leaving the arc and pivoting the Tesla nearly 180 degrees, she heads back to the enemy, moving up and behind them. "Gonna try to get in place so you can take out their weapons--or at least the shields protecting 'em. We're chasing each other's tails here, and I want us to be the one doing the biting."

She almost snarls, pissed off as always that someone dared fire on her vessel. Each time it happens, she considers it a personal affront. You're not getting away with that, you ugly bastard child of a tin can and a garbage scow.

"Uhn, one of 'em anyway," Booker replies, also not turning from the viewer and console where he's intent on targeting and calibrating--noting that Collins has re-opened fire, he want to make sure he has a shot programmed big enough to disable a weapon but small enough not to destroy the ship.

"Flying's not bad either," he adds.

Collins hits the Klingon shuttle, as does Graham a moment later. Collins hits squarely once more, jabbing at the foe with the powerful forward phasers, and the Klingons' impulse drive goes offline. Another two shots from Graham strike home and the Klingon shuttle's deflector shields collapse. Another shot disables its aft disruptor, nearest to the Tesla. A few seconds later it defiantly fires its forward disruptor at the Yorktown, but the heavy cruiser's shields easily shrug it off.

"Cease fire, all," says the Captain to Collins and, via subspace link, Graham. The Klingon shuttle is now slowing and adrift.

Eris is noticeably purring.

The nebula is tantalizingly close.

When the shields have gone down, Rangin starts scanning the shuttle to see what he can determine about it, and most importantly the crew and the location of the codex.

If it can be beamed off immediately, so much the better.

Inwardly, Collins celebrates the small victory, and awaits her next orders.

Rangin carries out an intensive scan and still picks up three Klingon lifesigns, and the Codex case's distinctive naryen metal, inside the shuttle. The shuttle has three compartments: a small one at the bow (a cockpit or control area, he presumes), a larger one just aft of that, and another, smaller one farther aft. Consulting classified Starfleet Intelligence schematics of the eight known Klingon shuttle classes, Rangin sees that the engineering space, farthest aft, is somewhat larger than on comparable Klingon small craft; it appears to be sealed due to radiation hazard.

He designates the compartments A, B and C, from bow to stern. None are bigger than half the deckspace of a Starfleet shuttle like the Tesla. Two Klingons are in A and one is in B; the Codex is also in B.

The Klingons fire again at the Yorktown, which is jostled slightly but again undamaged. Collins sees the forward shields are down by only 3%.

"Stand by phasers, Mr. Collins," Singh says, narrowing her eyes. "Mr. Bennett, stay sharp, and keep us directly in front of them."

"Aye, Captain," Bennett says.

"Tesla, you may resume fire if they turn to fire on you." Alveron places a trembling paw on the arm of the big chair. Collins happens to be looking over at Singh at that moment. The Captain rolls her eyes just a little and adds, "Take care not to breach their hull or destroy them, of course, if at all possible."

Nia beams a smile at Booker for his skilled shooting. "Everyone back there all right?" she asks, leaning back to ensure the passengers know she's thinking of them.

She turns to look at the Klingons, who are stubbornly--stupidly--still firing weapons at the Yorktown. What do they think they're accomplishing?

She hears the discussion on the Bridge and purses her lips for a second, then says: "Acknowledged, Captain. And thank you, Collins." After a hesitation, she takes a deep breath, releasing the tension of the past few moments. "Ma'am. Perhaps we should attempt to hail them again? They're in a pretty bad position and maybe we can resolve this without more firepower? Either way, we need to get the Codex onto the Yorktown, but I await your decision on that, of course. You could just beam it out now, but given what Alveron said... do we take the easy and safe route, which is transporting it onto the Yorktown, or do we give weight to the High Priestess's preference and get ready for a space walk?"

She mutes her mic and says, very very quietly to Booker, "If boarding's their choice, given our position, looks we'd better prepare for rear entry. At least, I'm not taking it off the table." She aims her gaze out at the Klingon ship, but her tilting smile turns wicked. "What are your thoughts, Book?"

Collins turns back to her panels before smiling at Singh's reaction.

Graham frowns. "Sensible surrender isn't usually the Klingons' style..."

After a second he thinks Nia might have meant a double entendre and he clears his throat. "Uh, ah, well if we go in--especially since one of the Klingons seems to be staying close to the codex thingie, we can't guarantee it won't be collateral damage in a firefight. Or for that matter that one of these shithe-- uh mercenaries will destroy it out of spite."

He shrugs. "I don't know they're religious beliefs, but if I were in the high priestess' shoes I'd have Yorktown pluck it out of there by transporter if at all possible."

Booker's lack of response to her humor makes Nia vow to decide, once all this is over, if she's wasting her time. There's nothing worse than being with someone who doesn't laugh with you. Even when in danger. Maybe especially in danger.

"If it were up to me, I'd do the same. But it's the Captain's call. She's already decided it was worth it to chase the Klingons to the edge of a nebula for this Codex. If she wants to go whole hog and respect the Aelyrrs' beliefs, that's what I'm gonna do. But yeah, transporter's the way I'd go.

"Frankly I'd even go the opposite route rather than wasting time--beam the Klingons off the shuttle, then let us go in and retrieve the thing manually. Of course, the Klingons have those anti-transporter devices, so--"

Nia blinks and leans back in her chair, realizing she never gave this a thought. "Crap. What if they use one of those anti-transporter deals--or similar tech--on the Codex? Even if the Priestess gives us the go-ahead, we may not have a choice but to go in."

Staring at the other shuttle, she shakes her head wearily. "Let's hope they're not smart enough to think of that. Because you're right, it's hard to imagine the Klingons giving up if we ask them to. I mean, it's worth a shot--talking's almost always worth a shot. Especially if the one with the Codex is the same as the one I was chasing back on the Naradraen. I never saw a Klingon turn and run so fast. Coward like that might be willing to take a deal if it means he won't get hurt." She shrugs. "Guess we'll find out soon what the captain decides."

Rangin flicks his gaze of the varying results coming back from the scans and starts to disseminate the information as best he can to those who it would be useful.

Scans and layouts of the ship get passed off to Collins at Tactical and to the Tesla to help pinpoint the best place to fire if needs require it. He also passes off the detail about the locked off area, just in case they were going to try and get across.

"Ma'am", Rangin addresses the Captain, "confirming three Klingons on board. There is also an radiation hazard on their shuttle. Given the shuttle's configuration I would recommend seeing if we can obtain a lock on the Codex."

Rangin frowns slightly and sees if the unknown radiation signature matches the unknown one that was registered on the Naradraen.

Singh says, "Thank you, Mr. Rangin. Transporter Room, this is the Captain. Scan the Klingon shuttle. Can you get a lock on the Codex case, or any of the individual Klingons?"

After a moment comes the reply, "Chief Nguyen here, Captain. Sorry - I've tried, but no luck. Same problem we had with the Klingons aboard the Aelyrr ship."

Rangin cross-checks the Klingon radiation signature and sees that it is consistent with Klingon small-craft warp drives generally. It is not like the radiation aboard the Naradraen, which was due to that ship's unusual hadron-pulse drive system.

The Captain says, "Hail them, Mr. Thalen."

He does. "No response, Captain."

She jabs her comm button. "Klingon shuttle, this is Capt. S.P. Singh of the USS Yorktown. You're not going anywhere. Cease fire and surrender. There is no honor in being needlessly destroyed. I await your immediate response."

She looks at Thalen, who holds two blue fingers to his earpiece. He shakes his head. "Still nothing, ma'am."

The Captain closes the channel and opens another. "Singh to Tesla. You know the situation, Mr. Onn. Looks like you might have to force a boarding. Recommendations?"

Biting the inside of her cheek hard, Nia shakes her head and looks at Graham. "Guess I jinxed us. Didn't want to be right about that guess. If you've got any suggestions, let me know."

She unmutes her mic and eyes the Klingon shuttle. "We'll need to get pretty close, Captain. I can do it, but it'd be a lot easier if those aft and forward weapons were incapacitated. Any chance of that, Mr. Graham? Lt. Collins? It'll take a light touch to make sure you don't disturb anything else."

She holds a hand over her mic and turns to the others behind her. "Better prepare to get your helmets on. I know St. Croix and Three Crows have training in EVAs, that's part of the Academy. Eris, what about you?"

"I've got the front," Collins says as she narrows the targeting to take out the only the forward disruptor, maybe even knocking it off its mounts. "but I don't have a clear shot at the back."

Graham shakes his head. "'Klingons being assholes' definitely isn't your fault, Nia."

He squints at the Klingon shuttle and then moves his hands over the phaser controls. "Unshielded and it should be easy to use a ah--gentle caress--to disable the disruptor. I'd be willing to bet you could position us above or below, outside of their field of fire, without breaking a sweat."

"Collins, I'm sure you'll get the forward weapons, if they can be got. Just be gentle. Not that I need to remind you, but think of it as tweezing an eyebrow, not amputating a leg."

When Booker uses her first name, Nia feels something relax inside her--muscles she didn't even realize were tensed. She nods and flashes him a grin. "Sure, I can find somewhere safe. It's all about getting the right angles. Like setting up a pool shot."

She measures the location of the aft weapons and calculates what angle would put the Tesla in position to hit the weapons while remaining out of target.

"I'm thinking underneath at a... maybe 35 to 45 degree angle? I'll bring us up close enough so they're right on top of us, but we're facing aft, the opposite direction. Sort of like--"

Nia checks herself. She's on mic, and using sexual terms isn't how she wants to be remembered just in case this is her last stand. "Uh, like conjoined twins. Then I'll start lowering until their aft hull gets out of our way and you'll have the guns in your sights. Will that work for you?"

She leans forward and squints. She wants to locate the precise position of the airlock--ideally there'll be more than one, but she only noticed one on approach.

She realizes Singh might not know about the chargers. "Captain, I got four antimatter grenades from the Armory. If the airlock needs blasting, we'll be able to do it. Obviously I need to program them to work only on the hatch, not the ship's hull itself."

Where exactly is the airlock (or airlocks)? On the port/starboard side, or closer to the front/back? Trying to picture the setup here.

The Klingons' aft disruptor is already disabled, and their shields are down; see post 2133.

Singh says, "Target and destroy their forward disruptor, Mr. Collins. Single phaser beam; minimum necessary energy."

The shuttle's sole airlock is on the port side and opens directly into compartment B.

Eris says confidently, "I have often used spacesuits before, and will be able to move and fight in this one."

Three Crows picks up her helmet and asks, "Better to do an EVA, or beam in? Pretty tight quarters, it looks like."

Hearing that the Captain may be ordering a boarding of the Klingon Shuttle, Rangin turns his mind to the safety of the Codex in such a situation. He scans the shuttle to see if the Codex has been firmly stowed in an area that will survive decompression or the worst case scenario of it being held in the arms of one of the Klingons, in which case a lot more care would need to be taken.

He wonders what the mercenaries are thinking, outgunned and outclassed as they sit in their shuttle. Then thought occurs to him, that they are going nowhere with shields down and no way to stop him so he turns the scanners on them to see if he can pick up the crew speaking to each other. Advance notice of their plans would be so beneficial, even though Rangin does not understand Klingon, and between Lt Thalen, the comms system and the UT, they should be able to crack it.

Rangin smiles grimly at the sensor panels in front of him, doing what he's always done - watch on an enemy from afar and provide intel.

Collins rolls her eyes at Onn's eyebrow tweezing comment.

"On it!" she says to the Captain and fires at the Klingon's forward disruptor.

Zweller is still watching Kylah, a satisfied smirk on his face. She is trying to control her anger - and her alarm, although really, what can he possibly do to her on the Yorktown? Spread more gossip? He cannot harm a reputation that is already tarnished, mostly thanks to her own stupidity. Even with lies. 'Spurned by a superior officer'... Does he mean Hardin? Is that what is now being added to her misadventures on that mission? Both offensive and ridiculous.

But his implication that she should be ashamed of having been attacked on Anubis is vile. She licks her lips and attempts to gather strength despite her sleep-deprived, foggy thoughts. Kylah will not let Darren Zweller make her feel small. Not again.

"I see no reason why I should feel embarrassed at having been kidnapped," she says, her voice cool even though she wishes she could slap the smirk from his face. "And I cannot imagine what you have heard. But none of it is true, and you know it. Nothing has changed since the Academy."

The instant she blurts this, she shrinks inwardly and falls silent. Not only is this none of his business, but it is false. Everything changed, back on OC3.

He notices her altered demeanor at once, and grins with a look that suggests he knows something she does not. "'Kidnapped,' eh? And under very... interesting circumstances, too, I hear. It's amazing how much scuttlebutt you can pick up on after just a few days on a starship - especially when you have a good contact aboard. But where are your manners? Aren't you going to invite me in? You must've regretted your mistake in throwing me out of your quarters last time."

"A contact?" Kylah can hardly believe her ears. "A contact with whom you talk about me?" Claustrophobia sets in. That explains how he knew where to find her. At once she darts a look down both sides of the corridor, half-expecting to find some henchman lurking nearby. She remembers too well that night two years ago when he brought a friend into her room, cornered her, tried to intimidate her into--into being with both of them.

She feels sick. "Of course I will not let you in. And I do not care what rumors are spread about me. I am too tired to care. Please, Mr. Zweller--" Kylah stares up at him, then continues more quietly after a ragged sigh. "Darren. You are not... you were never a fool. You must know you are wasting your time. Why? I do not understand, I am nothing to you. Why do you need information about me from others? Why search me out? What do you want?"

He leans back and laughs. "Right, I'm sure you don't understand. Are you really still playing the ignorant virginal princess? After all the attention you've grabbed for yourself in only... what is it now, barely over a month in service? I must say I'm impressed, Kylah. When I heard about you and that rock star, not to mention the billionaire murderer - so many conquests, all in the space of a few days - I knew you were making up for lost time." He looks her up and down, then leans forward. "It shows, you know."

Kylah gives a sharp inhale and unconsciously tilts away, as if needing protection from his intimate murmur. "What shows?"

"Your experience. You look older. Like you've...seen things. Done things. There's still that don't-touch-me vibe, too, but you're not nearly as wide-eyed and innocent as you were. The combination is even more incredible than at the Academy. And your body in that uniform--"

"Stop. Stop it," she hisses. Two crewmembers are passing by, talking casually, and one of them casts a glance in their direction. "Do not talk about me like that!"

"Oh. I'm sorry. Am I embarrassing you? In front of others?" His emotions are again heated and resentful despite the smile on his face. He is barely controlling himself. "Not pleasant, is it?"

Kylah can sense his contempt radiating out to her. She says nothing until her shipmates enter the turbolift and the corridor is empty again. "So that is it. You still bear a grudge for what happened?" She searches his face. "After all this time, you still think you were wronged, that night? You and that other boy had me alone, you were about to force me to--"

"There was no force involved," he says curtly. "You're the one who nearly stabbed me." His eyes shift downwards to her hips and thighs, then slowly return to her face. "But that's not an option now, is it? I heard you lost your last knife. Among other things."

The words are slow and deliberate, very quiet. Anyone else hearing it would think it merely conversational. But Kylah's every nerve is alert. How did he know about that? What is he implying? "You--you had better go. I have a roommate and she will be--"

"She's on the Bridge, occupied with the Red Alert."

He even knows whom she rooms with. The air around them feels stifling. "I still wish you to go. Please. I--I have not slept in so long. I really have to go to bed."

"Yes." His blue eyes are stone-like. "I was thinking the same thing."

When he steps toward her, Kylah backs up again, now inside her quarters, and instinctively jerks her arm up toward her door panel to shut and lock it. But his hand is quicker and he grabs her wrist, preventing the movement. She splutters his name but he only draws her closer as his left hand rises, revealing some steel-gray device Kylah does not recognize.

"This won't hurt," he murmurs.

The door whisks shut behind them.

"Good to hear, Eris. And point to you, Three Crows. Unless the Klingons have some kind of anti-transporter tech on that ship--which at this point wouldn't surprise me, these mercs have some tech skills we don't, damn it--we could definitely beam in."

She flips the mic on again. "Mr. Rangin. Any way to tell if there's something preventing us from a beam-in? Not sure if it's possible without a test, but you're the sensor master."

With a flip of the switch, she turns back to the squad. "Of course either way, once we neutralize them and grab that Codex, we'll still be taking a space walk. Or at least I will, assuming I'm not injured. I didn't dress up like this because I enjoy looking like a bag of marshmallows." Her smile flashes. "But seriously--we've spent a lot of energy to retrieve this holy book. Once we have it, we might as well do right by the Priestess's wishes. Consider that an order--posthumous, if it comes to that. So if I'm down, whoever succeeds in confiscating the Codex, you get it back to the shuttle the old-fashioned way."

She sees a flash of light and turns back, guessing it was Collins's work. Though she can't tell if the shot hit its target, she has confidence that it will. "Booker, your thoughts on strategy here? You're the expert. Beaming in is faster and gives them less notice. But there might be a reason a break-in is better. Aside from my temptation to blast a hole in that damn shuttle, that is."

Collins carefully takes her shot and destroys the forward disruptor on the outer hull of the Klingon shuttle.

Rangin's scan does not reveal the manner in which the Codex is stowed or placed. It is there, and it is near a Klingon lifesign, but that's all he can learn for sure. Thalen refines his sweep of Klingon transmissions and determines that the Klingons are using a low-emission, short-range wireless intercom system of some kind, but the content is encrypted and will take some time to crack, if it can be done at all.

Rangin's scan reveals nothing that would interfere with anyone beaming into the shuttle.

St. Croix listens to Onn and says, "Understood, ma'am." Three Crows also nods solemnly.

Eris says, "Thank you, Lieutenant. That is commendable. I am sure it would please the High Priestess, and all Aeylyrr when word of this mission reaches home."

Graham swivels in his chair, grunts, and rubs his chin.

"Blasting our way into a small ship sucks. Especially if we don't want to accidentally shred this magic book. So does beaming into a small area where we might be under direct observation...and fire, while our asses take plenty long enough assembling to get dis-assembled by disruptor before they finish..."

"It's better if throw in some decoys - unoccupied evac suits - to distract and draw fire.... And if Yorktown can jerk 'em around a little, keeping at least some of them occupied at the conn..."

"Graham to Yorktown: can you provide a rundown on the Klingons' current location within the shuttle?"

Thalen repeats Rangin's earlier scan results as to the location of the three Klingons on the disabled shuttle.

Collins notices that Alveron and the Captain are speaking quietly with one another.

Rangin hears the requests come in and quickly responds to them. "Ma'am, there appears to be nothing to stop a beam in other than the limited space in the shuttle."

At Graham's request, Rangin checks the data he had already sent and shakes his head before resending it with the Klingons a little more clearly marked on the layouts. Rangin still wonders why, even during this Red Alert, Graham cannot bring himself to talk directly to him.

Without obviously eavesdropping, Collins concentrates to try to hear what Alveron and Singh are discussing. Part of her wishes she could be part of the shuttle crew, but given what happened earlier, maybe it's best she isn't.

'Fuck," Graham growls, standing up and pain to the extent he can in the tight confines of the shuttle. 'Tight quarters."

He initially addresses Onn, but keeps the channel open to the Yorktown and frequently turns to St. Croix and Three Crows.

"Here's my recommendation. Yorktown splashes the shuttle with phaser fire. Not for effect since we're beaming over there, but enough of a light show and turbulence to keep these ass-- Klingons occupied at conn."

"At t-minus two seconds initiate transport of dummies--stand up some evac suits on transporter pads--into what Yorktown calls cabin A, the command area."

"At t-minus one second, initiate transport of one dumm center, and me, and St. Croix on the flanks into the the backside area B. We want the wall at our back."

"At go time, initiate transport of Three Crows, and Eris into the flanks of area B, one on each side along the wall. And a dummy front and center of the door to area A."

"We're aiming to draw the one out of the back chamber, and if not have clear fields of fire on heavy stun. Anybody gets their hands on the Codex, we beam out and can deal with the shith-- Klingons in the command area remotely."

He clears his throat and turns back to Nia. "That's my oh-two, ma'am."

While he speaks, Nia's eyes narrow slightly as she tries to visualize Booker's plan. When he's done, she raises her right eyebrow. "And an interesting 'oh-two' it is. But there are two problems. One, I'm not sure how these EV suits are intended to stand up on their own rather than collapse in a heap. There's no time to rig up some sort of stand for them, and unless you know something I don't about the hobbies of our crewmates, I don't think there are that many life-size dummies on board." Not counting certain crewmates themselves, that is.

She shifts in her chair and makes sure Booker understands how serious she is about this next part. "Two, you either miscounted, or you seem to have cast me in the role of the chauffeur who keeps the engine running while the rest of you go shopping for Codexes. Uh, codices. Whatever." She tosses a 'no offense intended' look toward Eris before facing Booker again.

"Here's what I've got. I go over there manually. I use my hands to maneuver rather than let my mag boots connect with their hull, so they won't hear me... until I set off a single charge, one that should break the airlock handle without causing any serious damage. Obviously the ship won't be in danger of depressurization--that's the whole point of an airlock, right?

"They'll think we're intending a manual entry, and will focus on the door--letting you four beam in, with or without dummies." She gestures to the others with a sweep of her arm. "You blast the hell out of them and once I see an opening, I'll let myself into the shuttle and back you up--or, if it's feasible, I'll head straight for the B section and make the move on our Codex-holding friend if he's still back there."

Meeting Booker's gaze for a second longer, she then turns to the communicator as if able to see the Captain. "Those are our suggestions, ma'am. All I ask is that if Collins aims some phaser fire at the shuttle, she avoids the port side, at least while I'm hanging out there."

"Thank you, Mr. Rangin," the Captain says.

Collins could not make out what Singh and Alveron were saying. She was too far away, and they were speaking too quietly.

After Graham and Onn have spoken, Three Crows says, "If we beam in empty but fully pressurized spacesuits with weights in their boots, they'd stand for at least a few seconds, and that might be enough to distract the Klingons long enough, if we go with Mr. Graham's proposal."

Singh rubs her chin. "Mr. Collins, what do you think?" she asks. "Do you favor one of these proposals, or do you have one of your own?"

"I like Graham's idea" Collins replies, "with Three Crow's modification. I can give you a very distracting light show on the Klingon's starboard side, close enough to worry them but still leaving their ship alone."

What a surprise, Nia thinks, shaking her head. Security folks sticking together. And as usual, they create rococo plans when an easier solution that involves less shooty-bang fireworks--and actually gives a nod to our guests' wishes--is available.

"Captain, here's an idea that puts no one but the Klingons at risk. Security or Medical must have some sort of knockout or tear gas capsules in their box of toys. Beam a few in, knock the Klingons out, and then let's clean up afterwards." Her grin widens at the thought of these warriors felled by such an embarrassing method. "Collins can distract them with her light show, of course." I'm sure that'll keep her happy.

"This way we can transport in, detach the unconscious--or at least groggy--Klingons' anti-transporter devices, and beam them right into our brig. And I collect the Codex and carry it out manually, according to the Priestess's wishes. That's the least risk to anyone, wouldn't you say, Mr. Graham?" She directs a smile toward him before addressing the others on the ship. "Dr. T'Var, Mr. Rangin, you're the most knowledgeable of Klingon physiology... what do we have that can take out a Klingon?"

Dr. T'Var says, "We do have anesthizine gas canisters that could be set to dispense their contents upon beam-in. Type 3A has been shown to be highly effective against Klingons."

http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Anesthizine

"Excellent, Doctor. Thank you." Nia lifts her hands out toward the co-pilot's seat, as if giving a gift to Booker. "There, you see? As low risk as we can imagine. Mr. Rangin, from what you've learned of the Aelyrr's biology, Eris won't be in any danger, will she? Anyway, we can just wear our helmets."

She purses her lips in thought. "So, Collins distracts them with phaser fire, the canisters are beamed in, we give the Klingons time to inhale everything, then we'll beam in--uh, Eris, I'm not sure how you feel about that--and our Security officers keep a close watch on any Klingons who might be woozy but not entirely unconscious. You never know if one has a better constitution than the others, and we don't want to be caught flat-footed.

"Also, the one near the Codex could pose some problems, if for some reason we can't beam the canisters in there, but surely five of us can take on one Klingon." She shifts her attention to Booker briefly. Though she doesn't speak, her expression shows her determination. Yes, Book, I said five. I'm the leader of this mission, and I don't send people to do a job without me.

"Of course," she continues, "top priority will be grabbing those anti-transporter devices so the Yorktown can snatch the thieves right into the brig." Nia smiles at Eris. "And once that's through, it'll be my pleasure to escort Eris and the Codex back the old-fashioned way. Assuming our Security officers approve and you give the go-ahead, Captain."

"No argument from me if the Doc thinks anesthizine can be beamed in to take the Klingons down. Collins' light show could help ensure they don't have time to react and scramble into suits--assuming they aren't already in suits."

He frowns. "That's the one thing we need to worry about - are these clowns smart enough to be in suits already, and even more than that, to 'play dead' and catch us with our pants down on beam in. If we can't count on the sensors to have sufficient fidelity to confirm their vital signs man they are really down and out, I'd still put a dummy in each compartment immediately before..."

He pauses and looks at Onn, specifically, getting her hint that she intends to be part of the party--something he doesn't think is necessary, or even prudent...it's not like me or St. Croix are demanding turn at the stick... But he's sure she's not in the mood for a debate.

"...Us - so the sensors can track if any of our bogies take any action in response."

"The evac suits are self contained if you use them, otherwise you'll need to use respirators or helmets. You will all be fine if you breathe it in, you just won't be awake for very long, ma'am." he responds dryly.

While speaking Rangin is already adjusting the sensors to check on the Klingon's lifesigns and to see if he can determine if they are in evac suits or not. He's tranquilised bigger and more dangerous creatures than those. Making sure they are down is always a very good idea, although just putting them down in a stupor is sometimes enough.

Rangin's sensor scan does not show if the Klingons are in typical armor, as was seen aboard the Naradraen, or are wearing spacesuits with independent life-support capability. He cannot refine the scan to that level of detail.

Singh says, "We'll do as you propose, Mr. Onn. Stand by on forward phasers, Mr. Collins. Lock on and set to five percent power. Fire only on Mr. Onn's order." She turns to Dr. T'Var and says, "Prepare anesthizine gas canisters, Type 3A, and rig them as you suggested. Take them to Transporter Room 1 on the double and let us know when you're ready."

The Vulcan healer nods and leaves the Bridge. A few minutes later she reports from belowdecks, "Ready, Captain."

"Proceed, Mr. Onn," the Captain says.

"Acknowledged, thank you, ma'am." Nia turns to the squad. "Helmets on, everyone. I know it'll be awkward to enter combat in these things, but this won't be much of a fight if we're all doped up."

Before she dons the helmet, she swings the Tesla around to the Klingon shuttle's port side. Gently bringing them to a halt, Nia pulls up as close as she dares to the Klingon vessel. If they were any closer she'd probably be able to wave hello to the enemy through the windows. In fact... Oh, duh.

Locking the Tesla in position, she grabs the bulky helmet from near the pilot's seat and secures it on her head. "Well, I just remembered the easiest way to check if they're suited up: old-school 20-20 vision. I'll go out there and take a peek myself. If I manage to see anything I'll let you all know whether there's any purpose in beaming the canisters over. I won't touch the ship itself, so there shouldn't be any danger unless Collins misses and hits us, which seems unlikely." Or it had better be. Shouldn't give Vargas any ideas.

"Meanwhile, the rest of you, get into the configuration Mr. Graham suggested earlier. Given our numbers and theirs, we should always have one more of us in each compartment. So, two of us on the target in B, and three on the two in A--including me. I know it won't matter if they're unconscious, but let's call it an abundance of caution." She looks at Booker in hopes he'll confirm the plan. Her lips are dry and she licks them. Nerves. Calm down.

She then realizes she hasn't heard a response from Eris to her earlier question. "Eris. You okay with beaming on there? If the canisters work there's no need for all five of us; you can wait until the Codex is free before I let you in via their airlock."

Unless there are any objections, Nia will set up the Tesla to depressurize on her mark, and will wait until it's safe before she makes her EVA.

Collins adjusts the strength of the phasers to five percent of full power, and gets ready to fire on Onn's word.

Graham starts to feel...comfortable.

He almost shakes his head. Worst misconception I had to correct when teaching at the Academy was that staying cool was a reflection of "being brave." Anybody sensible would be smart to be scared if they thought about it...It's about being in a different zone. Doing your job. You know the motions, you know they're your best shot at not getting killed versus second-guessing things.

"Check weapons," Graham says, glancing at his Security colleagues and then Onn.

"Good plan, ma'am," he says in reply to her. "I'd suggest--Eris, if you're willing to transport--that she's with me in B." He turns so toward Eris and then back to Onn. "Making it her mission to get her hands--er, claws--well, whatever, on the Codex. I'll take care of the Klingon if necessary."

He shrugs slightly. "I'd hate to cause a diplomatic incident if one of us drops your sacred thing." He pauses. "But seriously, a 'believer' in the Aelyrr faith should be the one who might be a position of taking a disruptor blast to shield the book. It's honestly likely we all might make different decisions."

Turning her head, Nia is about to contradict Booker. The fact that Eris might very well put herself between a disruptor and the Codex is precisely why Nia would not want Eris in that position.

Nia's prime concern is getting all her people back safely. Eris might be another race, not even part of the Federation, but as long as she's under Nia's command she's part of the team. If Nia absolutely must choose between the Codex and Eris's life, she'll choose the life, every time.

But she closes her mouth without speaking. Booker has more experience in this particular area. He doesn't take life lightly--or maybe it's just human life? No, that's... that's not right, is it?--and Nia has to believe he knows what he's talking about.

Anyway, if the Anesthizine does its job, it's all moot. As it will be if Eris decides she'd rather not beam across unless it's absolutely necessary.

Swallowing, Nia checks her weapon and makes sure it's on heavy stun.

"I will do what is required of me," Eris says, putting on and securing her helmet. "It is my duty, and I wish to go. I do not mind being... 'beamed,' as you say. As we discussed before, it is important to our people that one of us plays a role in the recovery of the Codex. I am ready and willing to be that person."

Three Crows and St. Croix are also soon both ready. They set their phasers on heavy stun. Eris also adjusts her phaser.

Onn sees from her helmet's heads-up systems display that all of the boarding party's spacesuits check out and that everyone is ready for hard vacuum.

"Tesla, this is Yorktown," Singh says. "Standing by."

"Aye captain," Nia says, and takes a deep breath. "All right. Everyone. I'm about to open the shuttle hatch; I'll set it to close behind me, but hold on in the meantime. Probably take me forty-five seconds to get to the airlock window. I'll look in, hopefully see some--" Ugly sons of bitches, she nearly says, but quickly switches it to: "--Klingon faces, rather than masks. If so, we'll call this Scenario One. I'll give T'Var the go-ahead to start a five-second countdown. Collins shoots on T minus three, Chief Nguyen beams the canisters on T minus zero. I keep watch. When they're out, I'll call for Chief Nguyen to beam us in."

She blinks with a thought. "Oh, and Chief, put me as far aft in Compartment A as possible, opposite St. Croix and Three Crows, who should be against the other wall. Anything so that we flank the two Klingons in there.

"Okay. Scenario two." She swallows and keeps the instructions clear in her head. "If the Klingons have pressure suits, I'll give the signal to Graham, who'll take the five-second countdown. Collins, you still shoot at T minus 3. Chief, beam us all in at T minus zero.

"Everyone, please acknowledge these instructions. I'll leave as soon as I get your okays."

She lowers her head slightly as she walks to the back of the Tesla. The depressurized shuttle feels different. The suits compensate almost perfectly, but the difference between almost and perfectly is noticeable. Still much better than she had back on Sidonia.

Her hand reaches for the door release switch, ready to hit it. After a hesitation, she looks back toward Graham, then turns away again. With her glove-covered left hand she flips a button on the outside of her suit to invoke her suit's personal communicator. "Onn to Graham," she says, facing the wall instead of him. "This is private, but I just have two things. First, make sure Eris doesn't do anything stupid. If she kills the Klingon, stun her furry ass. Religion or not, I'm not having that shit." Nia licks her lips again and speaks more softly. "And two... Take care of yourself, Book. See you on the other side."

With the action soon to be underway, Rangin goes back to scanning the overall details of the shuttle keeping an eye on the Klingons and the radiation trace while the monitoring of the nebula ticks over in the background.

"Acknowledged" Collins calls out and waits for Onn's countdown.

"Also acknowledged," Chief Nguyen says. "Standing by."

The Tesla's tripartite door silently opens. Onn steps to the threshold and looks out. Through the visor of her helmet, the purplish-red nebula fills almost her entire field of vision. The view is simply spectacular. To her left, ahead of the Klingon shuttle, the Yorktown is silhouetted against the nebula, its position lights blinking and its Starfleet registry number, NCC-1717, clearly visible on the bottom of the saucer section. The heavy cruiser's bow is slightly high, its forward phasers brought to bear.

The port side of the Klingon mercenaries' small craft is about six meters away. It looks almost close enough to touch. She now sees that its hull is pitted and scarred, and there is a noticeable dark stain running aft of a vent or grille of some kind. Small handholds are visible here and there on the hull. There is also a small rectangular viewport or window about a third of the way aft from the bow, to her left, and she can just see the recessed lines of the airlock door - about as big as a single standard pocket door on the Yorktown - a little more than two meters aft of that. Onn knows from the specs that there is an identical viewport on the starboard side, and two other, larger viewports at the bow for the pilot and copilot's use.

"You too, Nia," Graham replies quietly (and over a direct channel) to Onn.

Nia inhales deeply as she stares at the astonishing view. Never, never can anyone who hasn't taken a space walk understand what it's like to feel this insignificant and humble among the vast beauty of the stars. The nebula, the Yorktown framed against it... they're so unutterably breathtaking Nia's eyes fill with tears.

But she's not here to enjoy the sights. When she focuses on things closer to her, they're far from lovely. The shuttle in front of her is even uglier, and much more intimidating, than she judged it from the pilot's seat.

Blinking away the tears, Nia hears Booker's response to her. She smiles, relieved to have a reminder of what, and who, is behind her. With no tether to connect her to the Tesla, Booker's voice will have to suffice.

She feels along the side of the Tesla's hatch to get some purchase, and for one, maybe two seconds she floats completely free in space. It's an exhilarating, terrifying moment and her lungs catch with the knowledge that so much could go wrong in this tiny period of time. The Klingons could move their shuttle and crush her. Her suit could decompress due to some hole that's half the size of a pinprick. Her mag-boots could fail. She could misjudge her next movement, unable to grasp the Tesla and instead push away from it, causing an unintentional tailspin that would send her reeling from the shuttle like jettisoned cargo.

All those possibilities flash through her head until her gloved fingers grab the edge of the hatch. Amazing. No matter how many EVAs are in her past, each one might as well be the first. The same fright seizes her. But her gratitde once she feels the safety of reconnecting with the vessel is indescribable. It's worth the fear just to feel the relief.

Her mag-boots connect with the Tesla's hull, and she has to look over her shoulder while she sidles, crab-like, along the shuttle. Once she's close enough to risk it, she disconnects her left mag-boot and stretches outward to grab one of the Klingon shuttle's hand-holds.

They must know I'm out here, she thinks. Okay. Think. What are the risks? Well, they can repair the shields, for one. That would suck. She'd be trapped and paralyzed by the field. They can send some kinda electric pulse along the hull, frying me for good. And if they turn out to have been shamming I'm gonna be hitchhiking a ride to who-the-hell-knows where inside that nebula.

Frowning, she tells her inner voice to cram it, counts to three, and leaps forward to grasp at the nearest handhold she can find. If she succeeds, she'll float rather than use her boots to connect herself to the shuttle, and move along until she can see inside that small window.

If she doesn't, she'll have to push her way back to the Tesla. And try again until she doesn't screw up her own stupid plan.

Onn has a firm grip. She noticed for the first time, as she covered the short distance from her shuttle to this one, that there was sooty, scuffed Klingon lettering beside the airlock door. She cannot read it.

Too bad, Nia thinks briefly as she regards the lettering and moves from one handhold to the other. Would've been nice to know the name of this shuttle we've banged up. She doubts the passengers will be forthcoming with any details.

When she reaches the door, she unconsciously holds her breath while slowly, very slowly, she pulls herself up to take a look inside the shuttle.

Graham waits for Onn's signal.

Why the fuck am I not the one out there, he thinks. He knows Onn probably would have been resistant to the suggestion, but...fuck, it's on me if things go bad and I didn't insist, myself...

Eris and St. Croix stand ready. Three Crows goes to the doorway to take a look outside, and you can hear her sharp intake of breath over the shared comm channel when she sees the view. "Wow," she murmurs.

Rangin gathers no additional sensor data of operational usefulness.

Thalen adjusts the main viewscreen input and zooms in on the Klingon shuttle. Everyone on the Bridge can clearly see Onn.

Graham flexes his fingers and knees.

He doesn't turn to look at Three Crows--and, if he'd thought about rather than reacted by instinct, he might have decided to stay silent since he was no longer a senior officer--but he does react instinct.

"Let's stay focused, people," he says quietly and evenly over the shared channel.

For Nia, time seems to be going very slowly, as if it's affected by the lack of gravity and is floating, unhurried, toward an uncertain destination. She hears the various remarks of her crewmates but they're like a mosquito flying past her head--inconsequential and tiny, compared to both the risk and exhilaration of her current goal.

She keeps moving toward the port view window and tries to see inside, hoping to catch the sight of a Klingon--preferably the back of someone's head, because she certainly doesn't want to meet anyone's gaze glaring at her. She unclenches the gloved fingers of her right hand and places her palm against the hull; this way, if necessary, she can push herself away as quickly as possible to the relative safety of the Tesla.

Three Crows says, "Understood."

Onn can see some variations of light and dark inside the Klingon shuttle, but nothing distinct.

Given Lt Onn's current action, Rangin carefully monitors the Klingon's biosigns to see any jump in them which could possibly be them being alerted to her presence.

Nia swears inwardly. What could possibly be causing such a visual problem in a window? If they can see out, she should be able to see through it.

"Onn to Yorktown and Tesla. I can't see much except light and shadow. Yorktown, you getting any sense that their electrical is on the blink?"

She looks around and sees the messy hull again. Gnawing the inside of her lip in thought, she raises her free gloved hand and wipes the viewport, wondering if perhaps it's just covered in soot like the ship's signage.

If she still can't see anything, Nia will have to go around to the starboard side and give that a go. Failing that... the last resort is sneaking a peek through the main viewport up front. Not something she relishes, but a risk for her is better than risking the lives of the entire squad.

Hearing the question come in, Rangin immediately runs a diagnostic to check so he can respond .

Rangin's sensors can detect that all the Klingons are male and alive, but not much more than that. The Klingon shuttle's systems seem to be functioning normally.

The viewport is indeed dirty. Onn's spacesuit glove's fingertips come away blackened. When she peers through again, she realizes that the lighting in the compartment is dim. She can just make out the seated form of a large Klingon facing the bow and, beside him, a large case of some kind. It does not look like the Codex.

Nia's certain that if anyone's monitoring her own lifesigns, her heart rate probably jumped up by about fifteen points.

"Yorktown. Tesla. Visual contact confirmed." Her voice's hushed monotone is automatic, even though she doubts there's any likelihood of the Klingons tracking her transmission, much less hearing her directly. "One Klingon sitting... Some kind of big box beside him, doesn't appear to be the Codex, though I'm not sure if it's capable of holding the Codex inside... Getting in closer. Stand by."

She moves as near to the viewport as possible without hitting it with her helmet, mentally checking off a list of questions she must answer before reporting in full and okaying the operation:

- Is the Klingon wearing a pressure suit?

- Does this appear to be Compartment A or B, judging from its distance away from the bow?

- Is the case large enough to hold the Codex, at least what she remembers of it while chasing the Klingon through the Naradraen?

- For that matter, is this Klingon the same one she saw fighting with Alveron and then running away?

The last question is solely for her own admittedly unprofessional desire for payback. The guy she chased might have died on the scout ship... but she hopes not. After failing to prevent his escape, Nia wants a piece of him.

Graham reminds himself that the shuttle's disruptors are disabled, and the subsequent explosive decompression of the shuttle that would follow taking a shot at Nia through a viewport ought to discourage even a Klingon...But at the moment I wish I were out there while she was in here. Of course, then I'd be worried about the beam-in...

He chastises himself for allowing thoughts that can wait to intrude on his readiness to go: people take too much on themsleves. Kyle can hardly help from beating himself up.

That phrase coming to mind causes his jaw to tighten.

But Nia worried me chasing after that Klingon on her own...

"Acknowledged, Mr. Onn," Singh says through her helmet comm system. "Proceed with caution."

Onn cannot see clearly enough to tell if the Klingon is in a spacesuit, armor or heavy clothing. He appears to be in compartment B. The case looks like it could be big enough for the Codex. She thinks maybe, but cannot be sure, that it is the "boss Klingon" who fled from her with the Codex on the Naradraen.

The level of light in the compartment drops further and Onn realizes that another Klingon is now standing in the doorway to her left, at the back of what must be compartment A, blocking the light coming from there. He gestures a little, apparently talking to the larger, seated Klingon.

Eris goes to the Tesla's hatchway and rests one paw on its edge. Seeing this, Graham has an uneasy feeling and doesn't quite know why.

"All right. I can see his face," Nia murmurs to whoever's listening to her. "So he's not wearing a helmet. But I can't tell what he's wearing from this angle. And the box could contain the Codex." She peers at the other Klingon, then back to 'hers.' "Tesla squad: note that Klingon #2 is in the open doorway now.

"Captain, new recommendation. Collins should hit them with a low level phaser at precisely the same time as Chief Nguyen transports the gas canisters. If both occur simultaneously they might pay enough attention to the hit to notice the anesthezine. Our beaming in five seconds later will distract them further. Mr. Nguyen, please start the five-second countdown on my mark. At T-3, you and Collins beam the canisters and fire. At T-0, beam the squad in. Please confirm if this strategy's acceptable, Captain; Nguyen." Assuming they agree, she'll just nod her head. Time to back away to relative safety.

She takes a deep breath and, uncurling her fingers from the hand-hold, uses them to push herself directly backwards, toward her shuttle. While floating in space, nothing supporting her, she can't help the slight edge of nervousness in her voice as she continues.

"Pushing myself back to the Tesla now. I'll wait out the countdown and hopefully avoid any physical damage from Collins's phaser." She tries to lighten her tone. "Collins, if you hit starboard too hard, you may push the Klingons right into me. Please bear that in mind. Okay. On my mark, everyone."

After what feels like ages but can't have been more than six or seven seconds, Nia turns, knowing she should be bumping into the Tesla now. When she does, she'll deploy her mag-boots and, at last, give the command to begin the countdown.

She'll also pray that after Collins fires, the Klingons don't move any closer to the Tesla. What seemed like a long way to float freestyle is most definitely not a long way for a ship to list upon being hit by a phaser. There are many ways she's expected to die on a mission, but being crushed like a pancake in between two shuttles is definitely not one of them.

Collins has no intention of hitting the Klingon shuttle. She's just going to cause a distraction. Best case, the Klingons will panic and be caught off guard when Onn's team boards; worst case, they'll think we can't aim, and laugh with relief, and again be surprised by Onn et al.

Seeing Eris move, Graham says "hold your positions," on the open channel with the same even tone he used in response to Three Crows' comment. "We move as a team or not at all."

"Acknowledged and approved, Tesla," the Captain says.

Eris is silent and does not reply to Graham.

Onn sails across open space and lightly makes contact once more with the Starfleet shuttle; her magboots grip firmly. The Klingon shuttle does not move. The Sidonian officer can reenter the Tesla's open doorway easily.

Chief Nguyen says, "Tesla, Transporter Room here. Beginning countdown. Five... four... three...."

In the seconds left, Nia grabs the edge of the doorway, releases her magboots, and propels herself around so she can land on the floor of the Tesla's open hatch. The sight of Eris so close to the entrance surprises her for an instant and she has to adjust to avoid slamming into the Aelyrr.

If she lands safely, she'll yank out her phaser and prepare to be beamed out--ideally as she ordered, against the wall of compartment A.

An image flashes in her mind in the time remaining: that second Klingon she saw in the doorway. He'll be right next to her. Her hand clenches her phaser more tightly.

Don't hesitate. If he's still standing, he's getting stunned.

As was prearranged, when Collins hears Nguyen say "three", she fires the phasers on low, in rapid succession, just off the Klingon's starboard bow.

Graham draws his phaser. Nia's not here, and even if I'm not officially the ranker I'm the oldest for what that's worth...

"Weapons free," he states over the open channel with some emphasis. "Stun setting, no warning, no hesitation if you have a target. Repeat: stun setting, weapons free."

And just get Nia the fuck out of there, she's done more than enough already, he thinks, but doesn't say.

"Acknowledged," St. Croix and Three Crows respond as one to Graham's orders. Eris raises her Aelyrr-design phaser and says, "Understood, and ready."

The Yorktown's forward phaser beams race past the Klingon shuttle's bow quite close, but do not hit it.

"Beaming gas canisters in now," comes Ferguson's voice over the comm channel.

"Beaming boarding party in now," Nguyen says right after that.

Onn, St. Croix and Three Crows materialize in the forward chamber, Compartment A, of the shuttle. Graham and Eris beam into Compartment B, just aft of that.

A slim, wiry Klingon - call him K1 - appears to be the pilot, and is sitting at the front of compartment A, facing the controls. Another, larger one, K2, is standing in the doorway just behind Onn, St. Croix and Three Crows, and facing aft, just as Onn saw him earlier.

The third, largest Klingon of all, K3, is rising from his seat in compartment B, which looks like a cargo storage area.

K1 begins to turn around. K2 and K3 reach for their sidearms, K3 saying something as he does so. None of them are in spacesuits, but are in the same kind of battered armor you saw on the Naradraen. None seem as yet affected by the anesthizine gas, the canisters for which you see more or less equidistantly placed here and there on the deck.

Eris points her phaser at K3.

All of this happens in just seconds.

Neutralize command and control, Graham thinks, taking a shot at K3.

At this point he suspects Eris might not be obeying the "stun setting" order but doesn't really give a shit. We'll file a complaint with Aelyrr Central aftewards.

(K2 is his intended next target if he has any opportunity.)