Previously on Star Trek: Eagle Star

It was M’Tan who spoke when Bruce arrived, “Captain, though we cannot presume to understand your conflict with Commandant Diabolus, we do recognize the necessity of establishing a more secure position in Section AC-21.” Vinshar broke in, “The Dominion considers the Avkar to be a threat to the stability to this part of the quadrant. Even though the Dominion is capable of handling their constant insurrection, the Founders welcome any assistance of which the Federation and its allies might provide to us. In return, we will provide safety and defensive systems for the establishment of a permanent facility.” Bruce, a bit dumbstruck as he listened to the two ambassadors who he thought would prove the voices of descent amongst consensus, now stood shocked. He tried to think about how to respond, but words tripped in his mind before they made it to his voice. What eventually came out was, “I thank you for your support of our efforts.” M’Tan replied, “We remind you though, Captain, this personal grudge between Commandant Diabolus and yourself, may not interfere with this mission or it will jeopardize this alliance.” “I understand. How shall we proceed?” T’Konos spoke, “These are discussions which will commence immediately, Captain. Yet, as our allies have said, the necessity of establishing a secure position in this part of the quadrant is vital to us all.” “Then let’s get started.”

And Now, the continuation…

Captain’s Log – Stardate 59783.6 Starfleet’s Seventh Fleet, of which the Eagle Star is a part of, has been assigned the task of moving Starbase Deep Space Fifteen from Idran to New Horizon. The fleet from the Klingon Defense Forces and Romulan Star Navy will be serving as the main offensive wing of the fleet, while Consul Vinshar has pulled three dreadnoughts and two squadrons of Jem’Hadar attack ships as backup forces. In order to pull this off, I’m taking all the help I can get.

Bruce and Dana Space, Kevin Doran, and AJ Thompson, sprawled about the conference

table in the Eagle Star’s observation lounge, found themselves stuck with the daunting task of preparing the logistics of moving Deep Space Fifteen to the system dubbed “New Horizon,” by the crew of the Eagle Star. Coordinating the moving of a fully constructed starbase was no easy task despite the number of starships. When you throw into the mix that these ships would likely be under fire, that would make things a lot more interesting.

“The Seventh Fleet consists of fourteen ships. At least twelve of them will be needed to serve as tugs on the starbase,” Thompson said.

“AJ, in your estimation, how long do you think it will take to move DS-15 from Idran to New Horizon?” Bruce said.

“It depends, Captain. Depends on a lot of factors: the mass of the station, the ships’ power supplies to move it, and so forth.”

“Alright, so I need to impress upon Admiral Bolter the need to minimize those factors?” “It would certainly help.” Kevin broke in, “There are a lot of logistics here, Chief. Something, we’re not going to be

able to work out in a single sitting.” “You’ll get no argument from me on that, Commander. I also think we ought to bring in

another couple of captains and chief engineers to help work out some of these logistics. The station’s chief of operations too.”

Bruce said, “All right, I’ll speak to Admiral Bolter. Dana, arrange a meeting two days from now. And see about pulling in some other captains.”

“I’ll see to it, Sir.” “Very well then, dismissed.”

Commandant Erik Diabolus enjoyed meal times, and not meals for himself. He enjoyed meals for his pair of crocovans, Livia and Lucretia, which resembled Earth crocodiles though much bigger in size. Erik kept these “pets” more for intimidation rather than as companions. To keep them in his office, he’d had to make some secret modifications, but it’d been worth it. He had the meat brought up from the stores on the cargo deck and he would feed the animals himself, which is what he was doing right now. “Come here my precious little pets, time for your breakfast, huh?” He said as he speared a chunk of meat and dropped it into the pit where his pets resided. An immediate fight broke out over the chunk. Diabolus continued, “Don’t bite each other, babies; here’s some for you too.” He speared another piece, dropping it into the pit. The croc-like creatures dove for the food. Diabolus continued until all of the meal was in the pit, yet the creatures still seemed anxious for more. Diabolus said, “What? I don’t have any more. …oh…you want something special do you?” He knew what they were after, but arranging it would be a little more interesting. He walked over to his desk, about to push the button to activate his comm. system, when the door signal buzzed. Damn, he thought, that close. He closed the crocovan pit, and said, “Enter!” Sergeant Rizak entered, “Commandant, our operatives have received intelligence that the Federation alliance is preparing to move their base from Idran to Section AC-21. Ships are coming through the passage as we speak.” “Interesting, Sergeant. Space is determined to take the system’s secrets, even if he doesn’t know what they are. Sergeant, call up our forces. We take AC-21, today. We will disrupt Space’s plans and reclaim what is ours.”

Bruce hated being interrupted in the middle of a very sound sleep. In his dream, he and Dana were taking a romantic stroll on the Mediterranean somewhere off the Italian coast; so when DS-15’s first officer, Lieutenant Commander Tricacious called, Bruce had a right to be irked. “Operations to Captain Space.” “Go ahead, Tricacious.” “Captain, we’ve received an emergency signal from AC-21. The taskforce is reporting that they are under attack. It’s the Avkar, Sir.”

In the outer reaches of the final frontier, new

enemies lurk in wait. In the great unknown, darkness rises. Yet, one crew will stand against the dark and explore the unknown, mounting up

with wings as eagles to the stars.

Episode #105 “Wagon Train to the Stars”

Written By Michael A. Slagenweit

Bruce ordered a site-to-site transport to station operations. Once the news of the Avkar invasion of AC-21 got out to the Federation’s allies, the whole alliance might crumble like a sandcastle on a beach, washed away in a tidal wave of fear. Diabolus ordered this! He was sure of it. Diabolus invaded AC-21 because he knew that the Eagle Star carried away some of the secrets he was after. He would have to persuade Admiral Bolter and the other allies to keep the plan on track. “What’s happening, Admiral?” Bruce asked when transport completed. Admiral Karl Bolter and Tricacious stood over the master situation console in the center of the room. “I’ve recalled the taskforce from AC-21; they reported a fleet of Avkar ships came in from the other side of the asteroid belt and started shooting. No word, no warning, nothing.” “Are they all right?” “Some ships report heavy damage,” Tricacious said, “We should have a full report when they arrive.” “Keep me posted, would you, Admiral?” “Sure will.”

Erik Diabolus and his League of the New Order sat in the wardroom of the Executor, sipping strong Avkar spirits, celebrating their successful invasion of New Horizon. He said, a manic light glowing in the red-eye of his mask, “To the League of the New Order’s continued triumph, Gentlemen.” They raised their glasses in a toast, at which point Diabolus continued, “We have retaken the system from which the Federation drove us from and soon, Space himself, will be bringing us the stolen artifact. As soon as we have that one and one more, we will be able to complete the weapon.” “That’s what these artifacts do? Make a weapon?” asked Shashlar-Zamir, of the Xaltav. “Even if they don’t make a weapon, Lord Shashlar, they amplify high-power energy. We can use this to our benefit. The Federation will come, attempt to drive us back out of the system. We were frightened off before, but not again. In the mean time, we have other weapons at our disposal, quite effective weapons, I might add.”

“Tell us, Commandant,” said Shashlar. “I will do better than that, Lord Shashlar. I will show you.” he punched his intercom,

“Doctor Zeket to the conference room, bring your subjects with you.” A couple of minutes later, an Avkar doctor entered, followed by two other Avkar. Though

much different in appearance from others of their race, the Avkar which followed the doctor did possess one distinct behavior which the League members were quick to notice. They walked with a very robotic stride.

“You sent for me, Commandant?” Dr. Zeket asked. “Yes, Doctor. I would like you to show the gentlemen of the League your handiwork,”

Diabolus said, “I believe that you will find this quite remarkable, gentlemen.” Dr. Zeket pulled a small device, no bigger than a Federation tricorder from his belt. Pressing a button, he spoke into it and said, “Torin, Dashalt, turn around.” The two robotic Avkar, Torin and Dashalt, turned on a heel and faced the opposite way they’d been facing. Zeket gave them another command through the communication device and they strode toward the door. Zeket stopped them, turned them around and then said, “They obey any command I give them.” “And you imputed them to recognize my voice as well, Doctor?” Diabolus asked. “As you commanded, Commandant.” “Very good. You see gentlemen, I possess the power to redesign men’s minds and alter their thought processes so that they obey orders given to them though a special communicator. In effect, the two men you see before you, have become nothing more than mindless zombies.” he paused, “Now, bring in our other weapon.” Zeket ordered the zombie Avkar out of the room, to which they returned a moment later dragging a struggling Vinshar with them. Diabolus activated his inhibitor fields when the changeling had been brought back on board, and the strains of holding his shape was showing

quite clearly. Not to mention Diabolus equipped his ship with quantum-stasis fields, in order to prevent Vinshar from changing his shape. “Consul Vinshar, you disobeyed me. Very unwise.” Diabolus said, his voice a soft hiss. “I serve the Founders, not you,” Vinshar retorted. “I told you before, Consul, you will work with us or be compelled to work for us. Now you will learn what it means to defy me. Zeket, the serum!” Zeket reached to a compartment on the opposite side of his belt and extracted a hypo-syringe, with a vial of yellow liquid. He inserted the vial into the syringe and held it ready at Vinshar’s arm. Diabolus said, “Last chance, Consul Vinshar.” “No.” “Do it, Doctor.” Zeket set the syringe against Vinshar’s arm and pushed the control to release the drug. Vinshar felt a sharp pain course through him, but the real pain ended in his head. No, he thought, no fight it! Fight it! Can’t, can’t fight it… can’t… fight… “Consul Vinshar, step forward,” Zeket said. The changeling, stepped forward but much more jerkily than his companions under Diabolus’ control, but he did it. Zeket added, “It may take some time for the drug to work completely through his system.” “Time is a benefit we have right now, Doctor. Guards take him back to his cell, prepare him for his task.”

Bruce walked into DS-15’s Infirmary to find it jam-packed with wounded which overwhelmed the sickbays of their respective starships. Serious injuries had priority on ship while minor injuries had to wait. This caused a backlog aboard ship, so the next alternative was the starbase’s medical facilities. Of course, when you factored in a science team and the crews from six starships, the backlog grew to encompass DS-15 as well. He tapped his combadge, “Space to Dr. Al-Rashid.” “This is Dr. Al-Rashid, Captain.” “They’re pretty bogged down on the station with wounded, do you think you might spare yourself and Dr. Crowson to lend the station medical crew a hand?” “We’ll be right down,” she replied, without hesitation. “Thanks, Doc. Space out.” He moved through the crowd until he saw Dr. T’Para, the station’s Chief Medical Officer, running a dermal regenerator over the cuts on the face of a captain sitting, somewhat impatiently, on the biobed. “If you die,” Bruce said to the captain, “I don’t have to pay up on that case of Romulan Ale you keep claiming I owe you.” Captain Ted Space, Bruce’s twin brother, cracked a grin, “No, ‘cause you’re going to pay up on that regardless if I live or die.” What distinguished Ted from Bruce was that Ted was older—only by a couple of minutes, Bruce was fond of saying—and a thin beard on his face. At various points in their careers, Bruce and Ted had served on the same starship; the most recent being six years ago when Ted served as Bruce’s First Officer on the Fearless. Ted accepted a promotion to captain the U.S.S. Firebrand, an Akira-Class starship, and the ship’s assignment took them away from each other. Dr. T’Para, in her cool Vulcan demeanor said, “Your injuries are minor, Captain. You will not die.” “We were joking, Doc.” “So I gathered, Sir. Please remain still for a minute more.” Ted and Bruce shut up while she finished, and when she’d discharged him, Bruce and Ted took a walk down the station’s promenade. Bruce said, “So what the hell happened back there, Ted?” “We were running some scans on the outer part of the asteroid belt when we picked up a cluster of warp signatures on the other side. Before we knew it they were all on top of us, twenty, thirty, forty ships, I don’t know. We got more cooked than the others because we stayed back to beam up the science team.” “Did we lose any ships?”

“No. The Carter took heavy damage along with us, but nothing that we can’t handle back here.” “Good, we’re going to need all the help we can get.” Ted raised a skeptical eyebrow at his brother. Bruce continued, “I figured you hadn’t heard. When I left the system a week and a half ago, I made the proposal to move Deep Space Fifteen to New Horizon.” “That’s pretty ambitious.” “It is, but it’s also necessary. Come aboard the Eagle Star for dinner tonight and I’ll show you afterward.” “Sounds good.” Bruce’s communicator beeped, “Thompson to Captain Space.” “Space here.” “I’ve got an idea to increase the efficiency of the tractor beams. Can I see you?” “I’ll be there in a couple of minutes. Good work, Lieutenant. Space out.” He deactivated his communicator, and said, “That reminds me, would you send Izak over to talk with my Chief Engineer. I’d like to put their heads together and see if they might come up with a way to cut down some of these problems that have been cropping up.” “Sure will.”

A couple of hours later, AJ Thompson sat at the Replimat on the station’s Promenade, enjoying a cup of chicken wild rice soup, reading over technical manuals on the Eagle Star’s tractor beams, when a man’s voice asked in a Russian accent, “Lieutenant Thompson?” He turned to see a medium sized black man standing next to him. He had gray flecks in his hair and a few wrinkles scattered about his face. His dark eyes were expressive and warm. On his collar, he bore the three gold pips of a commander’s rank. AJ knew immediately he liked him. He said, “Commander Izak Ison. Captain Space, well my Captain Space, asked me to meet with you.” They shook, AJ saying, “Thanks for coming down. I’d appreciate anything you can offer, Sir.” “Now, now, Mr. Thompson. I may be commander, by rank, but you and I are engineers and the first rule in my engine room is that you leave your rank at the door. I’m happy to help out a brother engineer.” Izak replied, sitting down, “Now you’re thinking about trying to widen the surface area covered by a starship’s tractor beam, without losing the integrity of the beam.” “Yup. Every simulation I’ve run, we widen the beam and the grip drops off.” AJ handed Izak a padd, to which the other man read quickly. “In that event, the only way to compensate is to use more ships to pull the station.” “Exactly. We need ships to tow the station because the thrusters aboard are not adequate for this type of undertaking.” Ison didn’t reply for a long moment. AJ asked, “Well? What do you think?” “Tougher than I thought it would be.” Ison read some more, AJ or Izak occasionally interjecting the quiet murmur of conversations in the Replimat with a question of the other. AJ found every now and then, he’d be looking at Ison, wondering about the other man. Eventually, he just asked, “Mind if I ask you a question, Chief?” “You just did, AJ. What’s on your mind?” Izak replied. “You’ve got that accent and yet you’re a black man. How did that happen?” Izak chuckled, “It’s a long story, AJ. But I don’t mind telling it. My father was an African-American infantry man serving in the United States army in the second world war on Earth. He got into a combat situation as American troops advanced across Europe and when American and Russian troops met up, he was introduced to a young woman serving as a secretary for a Russian general. They fell in love, they married, and she moved to the United States. After everything was said and done, they’d had me.” “And your accent comes from your mother?” “Exactly. Though, my father did try to get rid of it on a couple of occasions.” They worked on the problem for a few hours, before AJ said, “We’re not getting too far with this. I’m going to go get a cup of coffee. Would you like anything, Chief?”

Izak didn’t respond right away, then replied, “I think this is going to take more than a cup of coffee. This is going to take a shot of good Russian vodka.” AJ’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard, but at the same time, smiled.

Erik Diabolus lay stretched out on his back, lying on the bed in his barracks as his scantily-clad Avkar mistress ran her fingers up and down his back. He said, “It’s so refreshing to know that your plans are working and your enemies are running from you like scared chickens.” “The Commandant is as wise as he is powerful,” she replied, cooing. “A little harder, my dear. Have some more wine.” Diabolus drank deeply from his glass, enjoying the wine and the massage. Perhaps later, they would take things a little further. He deserved a bit of rest and relaxation. Taking back the system which the Federation invaded had been a relatively painless task, just outman and outgun the Starfleet taskforce, and voila, the system was theirs again. However, like Bruce Space, the Federation was nothing if not relentless. The Avkar would have to hold this territory tightly to maintain the high ground they’d already achieved. He’d closed his eyes, relishing it all, when the door signal chimed. Diabolus ignored it until after it rang three more times. He growled in disgust, dismissed the young woman, telling her to come back at another time, then said, “Enter!” Doctor Zeket entered the room, looking timid, like a schoolboy called into the principal’s office. He said, “Did I disturb you, Commandant?” “Yes you did,” Diabolus replied. He slipped a robe on, and added, “Did you make the modifications that I requested?” “Yes, Commandant.” He handed the voice controller to Diabolus. Diabolus examined the device for a moment, then said, “You are certain that you have injected with the serum will respond to my instructions?” “Absolutely, Commandant.” “And the Changeling? He will obey orders?” “As I noted in my report, Commandant, the effect took a little while to take hold, but when it did, the subject responded the same as all the others, perfectly, Commandant.” Diabolus smiled; a wintry, malicious grin, Zeket thought, while the red, mechanical eye of Diabolus’ mask glowed with a distinctly eerie light. He’d known Diabolus wasn’t going to use his mind control process for a peaceful purpose, he planned to use it himself initially, however, he now doubted that he would see his work produce the results he wanted: wealth and power. Zeket took a step back, his anxiety heightened. Diabolus placed his hand on the Avkar’s shoulder, “Yu have done well in my service, Doctor Zeket.” “Thank you, Commandant,” Zeket replied, his voice still nervous. “I like people who serve me in all I ask of them. You are one of those people,” Diabolus continued, his voice calm, his smile remaining, beginning to lead the Doctor toward his office, adjoining his barracks. “The Commandant will lead us to final victory against the Dominion and the Federation, ensuring a lasting Avkar dominion of the galaxy.” “That I will, Doctor, provided that our secrets remain ours.” “They will at that, Commandant, I assure you of it.” They entered the office and Diabolus sat behind the desk. Zeket stood before his leader, relaxing slightly. Diabolus continued, “You’ve told no one of our plans?” Zeket’s eyes darted to Diabolus’ face, babbling now, “Sir, I only… I needed to consult with a colleague; I couldn’t work though the problem myself! He is one of our most advanced genetic scientists, I needed his help!” “You told him? How much?” “Just enough to work through the problem, Sir!” Diabolus’ expression instantaneously shifted from jovial to enraged, “You fool! I ordered you to tell no one of this experiment! You have compromised the whole operation!” “He swore to me he would tell no one, Commandant!” “What is his name?” “Doctor Kezarak, Commandant. The Dominion relied on his techniques many times to produce Jem’Hadar at a substantially accelerated rate, as well as other genetic weaponry. He is

considered the finest genetic scientist in the quadrant. You would do well to enlist his services, Commandant!” Diabolus reclined in his seat, taking in the trembling Doctor before him. After a moment, he took up his cigarette holder, lit a fresh one, inhaled, and then blew a stream of smoke at Zeket, “Perhaps I will take your suggestion into consideration.” “Thank you, Commandant. You can be assured Doctor Kezarak will prove invaluable to you.” “We shall see. Go now.” Zeket hesitated a moment, then turned, heading for the corridor. Halfway to the door, his back to Diabolus, he failed to notice Diabolus as he touched control on the desk’s panel. With the touch, the floor below Zeket gave way and he dropped into the crocovan pit below; the creatures striking swiftly at the fresh nourishment. Diabolus closed the pit, incensed at this security failure. Yet, in the back of his mind, he knew he would take Zeket’s advice to contact Kezarak. In the meantime though, he had a Federation invasion to prepare for.

Science Lab Four aboard the Eagle Star lay dark and empty; no one allowed back into the room without authorization from the Captain. Lieutenant Talkart posted security guards outside the room to ensure no one entered. Bruce and Ted Space strode into the room, Bruce bringing up the lights. Sitting on the scanner in the center of the room, sat the Spire, glowing intensely as they approached. Ted asked, “What is it?” “We’ve got no idea. We found it in the New Horizon system of AC-21. The Avkar seem to want them, for what reason, I don’t know. But Diabolus seems to be willing to stop at nothing to recover this one, before we learn what they are and are used for.” “You mentioned something about having a vision when you got close to it.” “I saw them, Ted. Mom and Dad after he…” Bruce trailed off. “I don’t think I want to get close to that thing.” “There’s something to it, Ted. I feel it. We need more time to study this artifact, find out what it is, where it came from, and what it is supposed to do. Diabolus has a head start on us I suspect; otherwise he wouldn’t have wanted this one so badly.” “What does your science officer have to say about it?” “She can’t point out anything definite either. She suggested the Spire is related to the Bajoran Orbs than to anything else, and considering my experience, I believe her.” Ted took a step forward to look at the Spire more closely, when it gave off a green flash.

The smoldering embers slowly died as lingering wisps of smoke still reached for the skies. Occasionally, a finger of flame would jab angrily at the steadily approaching night. The fire department, police department, and paramedics came and went with Bruce and Ted being treated for minor burns during their fight with Diabolus. Nothing could be done for their parents. The police were convinced the twins had nothing to do with the fire and the deaths, Diabolus acted on his own. The pair requested to stay for a little while to look things over, preparing for the inevitable investigations by the fire marshal, more police, and their insurance company. The police allowed it, insisting they not touch anything. For a moment, Captain Bruce Space closed his eyes, remembering the pain he felt the last time he experienced this. Captain Ted Space stood dumbfounded. “Do you think it can be rebuilt?” young Ted Space asked. “Sure it can,” Bruce’s past self replied, “Great-Grandpa Space kept very detailed records of the construction. As soon as we can get down to the cellars, we’ll have to find them.” “The medical examiner should be here in the morning.” “A lot of good it’ll do. We know how they died anyway.” “Still it helps to know.” “Yeah, and we’ll spend tomorrow filling out police reports, insurance forms, and charity papers…” he trailed off, “You know what makes this whole situation just suck? There’s no closure, there never will be, not with Diabolus dead with them.”

“Come on, Bruce,” Ted said, “Let’s you and I check into a hotel room, you call Dana, we’ll have a couple of beers, she can give you a back rub, and sleep.” Bruce nodded, but said nothing. His older self turned to his brother as their younger counterparts got into their car and drove off. He said, “I told you so.” Ted wasn’t listening. He thought he saw something moving under a pile of charred rubble. He looked back, but their younger selves were already far down the road and apparently not looking back at the ruined house. He said to Bruce, pointing at the movement, “Look over there.” Bruce looked and saw something, though like his brother, couldn’t say what. Instead of gaping from a distance, he walked over, Ted in tow, to where the saw the movement. Both held their breath, dreading what it might be. Bruce believed he knew though not saying it aloud, A hand, burned almost as black as the charred boards and rubble, scrabbled over the remains reaching for a stable grip to pull the rest of its body out of the mass. The Space brothers stared in disbelief as slowly, the disfigured form which was the remains of Erik Diabolus, pulled itself from the ruin. Diabolus rolled to look into the darkening sky; as he did the Spaces both recoiled when his face became revealed. The creature rested a moment on his back, then rolled again, slithering on the wet grass like a snake, heading for the well in the back of the house’s remains. He just barely managed to get the access cover open and when he did, slid off the side, falling into the water below with a mighty splash. Both brothers closed their eyes.

Ted stumbled back while his brother supported him as the vision ended. He breathed, “My God.” “I could hardly believe it myself when it happened to me,” Bruce replied. “Strange thing is: we never saw him escape.” “True, but I suspected he might have. Certain things over the years I noticed had his touch on them, but I guess I could never make myself believe that he managed to get out of there. Now I know.” “Who else knows about what this thing does?” “You and I, Kevin, Dana, and my science officer. That’s all.” “Have either Kevin or Dana been affected in the way we just were?” “No, but I don’t think either of them have been in here since we brought it on board.” “I understand now. If Diabolus figures out what these artifacts are and what they’re used for… I see why you had such a tough time convincing our allies.” “You ought to have seen Admiral Bolter’s face when I proposed it to him, so you better believe it, buster,” Bruce said, “Whatever these devices are, Diabolus knows something about them. Likewise, if Diabolus knows about them, it’s a safe bet there are more. I suspect Diabolus has one himself and wants the others, however many there happen to be.” “So that’s why you want to move Deep Space Fifteen to New Horizon: to protect the other Spires, if there are any more there.” “Not just that. You know Diabolus, Ted. Who did he admire most when we knew him those years ago? Emperors who ruled their empires cruelly, without mercy, and martyrs who died for a society of anarchy. That’s what he wants now, an empire in which the treacherous and strong survive; the weak simply perish.” “It’s imperative, then, that we survive.”

Lieutenant AJ Thompson and Commander Izak Ison stayed at the Replimat well into the evening discussing tractor beams, thruster output, and so forth. Ison every now and then commented the process would proceed much easier if he only had a shot of vodka. AJ, on the other hand, continued to think that his counterpart on the Firebrand was merely joking. That is until Ison said, “Let’s go over to my ship. We’ll be more comfortable there.” “And we can get that drink?” AJ asked. By 0430 hours they found themselves on the floor of Ison’s quarters aboard the Firebrand, propped up against Izak’s sofa, engineering padds strewn about them, and passing their third bottle of Stolichnaya back and forth. AJ took a large swig, then set the bottle on the table. As he did so, he said, “Izak, I was just thinking.”

“What?” Izak asked, slightly groggily. “I was just thinking, maybe we’re going about this the wrong way.” “How so?” Izak pulled the bottle off the table and took a pull, setting it back on the table. “What if we should concentrate on the starbase rather than the starship?” “I don’t follow.” “The starbase has eight thrusters for orbital maneuvering, so the station should move itself rather than having a collection of ships towing it.” “There’s no way we could make that trip in time. It’d take months to get there on thrusters only, if not years.” AJ picked up the bottle, took a swig, then said, “What if we made the station lighter?” “Huh?” “Lower the station’s inertial mass. That’s it!” AJ rose and began to pace, “If we lower the inertial mass by generating a low-level subspace deflector field around the station, the thrusters are all we need. I remember reading a report which said Deep Space Nine pulled something similar off in order to move it from Bajor to the Denorios Belt.” “I remember that,” Izak said, trying to stand, but falling back on the floor, “In that way, we don’t have to worry about towing the station, just defending it.” “Right on.” “We’ve got to talk to Captain Space, Admiral Bolter, and the station’s chief of operations,” Ison tried to stand again, but failed; AJ just barely managing to catch him in time. Izak said, “First, AJ, I think we need to find a pot of black coffee. I think we’re a little drunk.”

Bruce, Dana, and Ted were catching breakfast in the exact spot AJ and Izak vacated several hours earlier; Ted with a plate of scrambled eggs and cheese, with a pot of coffee in front of him, Bruce with a cup of tea and a bagel. Dana asked, after sitting down with her granola and fruit, while pouring a cup of coffee herself, “Ted, where’s Izak?” “You know, I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him since yesterday evening, when I suggested he meet up with your Chief Engineer, Bruce.” “That’s interesting. I haven’t seen AJ since last night either,” Bruce said. “Well you know engineers,” Dana said, “Once they start working on a problem, they don’t stop until they’ve worked a problem six ways to Sunday until they’ve got it down to where there’s absolutely nothing to go wrong again.” Bruce and Ted chuckled in agreement. Ted changed the subject, “So where’d we leave off last night with talking about the kids?” “Kristi’s assignment to the Agamemnon,” Bruce said, “They’ve been assigned to a taskforce in the Erisan System; routine patrol but—“ He didn’t have a chance to complete his sentence as someone walking down the Promenade, rather stiffly, caught his eye. He rose and intercepted Consul Vinshar, “Consul, are you all right?” “I am fine, Captain. Is Admiral Bolter available? I need to speak with him.” “I believe so.” “Thank you, Captain.” Vinshar nodded at Space, and then walked on. Bruce looked after Vinshar, with an eyebrow raised. That seemed strange, the way the changeling walked, speaking to him so flatly, all business, and no inflection to his words. Though, he remembered when the Dominion diplomat first arrived, and the way he acted then suggested nothing different. He returned to the table where his brother and wife sat, staring at him, Ted said, “What was that all about?” “Beats me. Maybe it’s the stress of what’s coming up.” “Affecting a changeling?” “Who knows what goes through the head of a changeling? Anyway back to what we were talking about.” “Kristi’s mission in the Erisan System.” “Right, she said that she’s excited about exploring a system with three K-Class planets in it. They’re going to be doing planetary surveys for at least two weeks. If not—“ “Captain!”

AJ Thompson came jogging up to their table, Izak Ison right behind him. AJ said, “Captain, I think we’ve got it! I think we got it!” “Got what, Chief?” Bruce asked, calmly. “The answer to the problem of moving the station to New Horizon!” “Chief, calm down before you wake the dead. Now tell me what you have mind.” AJ stepped forward and said, “We can move the station on its own power, using its own thrusters. All we have to do is generate a deflector field around the station which would allow us to lower the internal mass of the station.” “Understood, AJ. I’ve got a meeting with Admiral Bolter in an hour; I’ll make sure to tell him. In the mean time, Chief, you’d better clean yourself up. You look like you’ve been up all night.” “I have, Sir. That is we have, Sir.” Bruce could hear the slight slur to AJ’s words, but said, “See to it, Chief. Then get with the Chief of Operations. Start working out your plan.” “Aye, Sir.” Thompson walked away and Ison strode up, he was about to open his mouth, when Bruce said, “Izak, have you two spent all night drinking?” “Well, not necessarily… yeah we have.” Ted rolled his eyes, “Izak…” “We worked through it, Sir.” “Izak, you can hold your Stoli, AJ can’t,” Bruce said, “We had a party at Madame Lu’s not long after I took command of the Eagle Star. AJ had to sleep in the next day.” “Understood, Sir.” “Now to get you two into see Bolter.”

Admiral Bolter and Lieutenant Commander Tricacious were deep in logistics paperwork for the move, two hours later, when Bolter’s office door chimed. When Bolter let the Space brothers in plus their chief engineers in, he said, “You better have good news, because we’re buried here in bad news.” “It’s good, Karl. We’ve solved the problem of moving the station.” Bolter lifted an eyebrow; Izak and AJ explained their plan. When they finished, Bolter smiled, “That is a lot of good news. It takes some of the pressure off my back.” “How so?” Bruce asked. “The Dominion pulled out of the operation. Consul Vinshar came in an hour ago. He didn’t have good news.” “I met him on the Promenade. Did he seem odd to you?” “No not really, but then, with this on my mind, I didn’t take much stock of him anyway.” “Well, well, just when we were counting on those Dominion dreadnoughts. Ain’t that enough to piss off the pope?” “That’s only half of it. The Klingons and the Romulans are sending small colonization teams. It seems the Federation Council encouraged a joint settlement on New Horizon.” “That’s all well in good for the Council,” Ted said, “I’ll bet they’ll get a lot of airtime over the Federation News Service. But for us, this translates into a half dozen ships carrying settlement equipment and personnel. Not to mention a full contingent of troops for security. God knows the Klingons and the Romulans haven’t liked each other for over forty years now.” “So how much more support are we going to get from Starfleet?” Bruce asked. “Not much. An additional ten ships,” Bolter replied. “That’s thirty-five ships to protect nearly fifty or sixty others? We are seriously undermanned, Admiral.” “I know.” “Well, just like in an old western. Who’s the fastest draw and the best shot to look after the ‘ol wagon train to the stars?”

To be Continued…

Star Trek: Eagle Star

Episode #105 “Wagon Train to the Stars”

Written By

Michael A. Slagenweit

Based on “Star Trek” Created By Gene Roddenberry

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