Admiral James Maverick walked around the desk and offered Captain Marshall a handshake, "Welcome to Delphi, Captain. I've already read your report." He offered Marshall a seat in front of his desk, as he took his seat.

Marshall replied, "Thanks for the welcome. What I had to deal with was serious. It was like nothing no one has encountered yet. It's all in the report."

Marshall continued, "Sir, my crew needs a rest. We've got several wounded. I don't know how many casualties, a newborn baby. The Republic needs some serious repairs. We could use it after this ordeal."

"Yes, I know," James' expression changed to concern.  "You were the first to be in contact with them, but not the last. Within the last 10 hours, there have been 3 attacks on Federation ships. I'm afraid things are more grim than initially thought. It appears the Kreltans are starting an advance into Federation space, and right now the only thing in their way is this starbase and her support craft." James tapped a key and a screen to the right of Marshall came down and showed the three attacked areas.

Marshall replied, "My word, I don't believe this. It's like the Dominion all over again. They must be stopped at all costs.  I can't imagine what these creatures are capable of."

Maverick nodded, "Your ship is currently under repair and your wounded is being cared for. The Republic should be ready in three to four days, but I'm afraid there's no time for rest. I've recalled all of our ships from their current missions. We're going to find out what these people want and who exactly they are, and the Republic is first on the list."

Marshall responded, "We'll do what we can Admiral. The crew is up to it if you really need us. They're the best I've ever served with."

Maverick continued, "Agreed. Starfleet is still recovering from the Borg and Dominion, though with peace talks from the Romulans, that's one less thing to worry about. I'm sending the Galahad here," he pointed to one of the attack positions, "She's going to be conducting scans of wreckage from the Dreadnought that attacked you. I want the Republic to go to these coordinates," He pointed to another area of the map. "There is an M class planet and a Demon Class planet there. Conduct scans, and if attacked defend yourself. We need information before anything else. I'm also sending the Firestorm two systems away from you to do the same, if you find yourself over matched, call them in."

Marshall commented, "Will do Admiral. We barely stood up to them. Hopefully we can even the odds a bit. The General that I encountered was very cocky, he somehow infiltrated our computer core and dug up the classified portions of my personnel file. If they did it to me they could do it to every single member of Starfleet. I would suggest alerting all of our ships."

"They've already been alerted. In fact our scientists here have analyzed your sensor readings, and discovered something interesting. We had to use sensor modifications from the USS Voyager to conduct bio-scans, but it appears that our friends aren't true cousins. They seemed to be enhanced changelings, genetically engineered from the DNA up. They're intelligent, but only intelligent of information that was given to them from their first formation, they don't seem to have the ability to adapt quickly to new situations and information. That may be our only advantage. Well, Captain, good luck. I'll be on the Firestorm if you need me further," James walked around and escorted the Captain out while shaking his hand.  "Report what you find to me and to the base, we're going to go on the fly on this one, until we have complete intelligence on them."

"Understood.  I'll contact you as soon as we get something.  Rest assured the Republic won't rest until we do find it," Marshall said as he left the Admiral's office.

He walked back toward the Republic to be brought up to speed on repairs and personnel changes.

 

<location: main bridge, USS Republic, Delphi Station>

Sleep had eluded John Carter since the arrival at Delphi station.  He'd checked in with Doctor Cromwell as well as Doctor Harris with regard to Commander Taylor's child, but didn't stay too long in sickbay.

From the start of his service onboard the Republic, Carter and Lana Taylor had seemed to be at odds. It seemed to John that Lana's mind just wasn't on her job. Considering Lana's circumstances, John was glad that the Executive Officer's priorities were on her child. In fact, he'd have been worried if that hadn't been the case. Add to that the romantic relationship that was brewing between Commander Taylor and the ship's Captain, and what John Carter found himself in the middle of was having to insist that either his Captain or his XO resign.

Over the course of the rescue of the U.S.S. Zurich, Commander Taylor's medical condition had worsened and Carter had been appointed acting XO. John couldn't help but think that, if situations were reversed, he'd resent the hell out of the person that "stole" his job. So, that explained the way that Commander Taylor was staring daggers at him through the Sickbay partition.

On Republic's bridge, things were slowly returning to normal. It was the beginning of the day shift, but since the Galaxy Class vessel was under heavy repair, most of the crew had been assigned light duty.  Lieutenant Suvek, the Third Watch Officer had stayed on for a few hours, and as John Carter stepped onto the bridge, he heard the end of Suvek's conversation with Ensign Ann Ready.

 "I'm reporting to you, because I'm unable to locate the Chief of Security." said 80psi.

John took a few steps out of the bridge turbolift and stepped down to the Command Deck. "To be honest with you Ensign," he said with a smile, "I don't even know who's in charge around here anymore. Sorry our introduction was so rushed before." Carter extended his hand to the Ensign. "I'm John Carter, pleased to meet you. I THINK I'm still head of Tactical."

Ensign Readdy shook his hand.

"Pleased to meet you too. I hope we can get a chance to work together, as a team." said the ‘pistoned’ officer. She leaned over and whispered.

"I hope the pistons and air supply lines of my exoskeleton don't bother you too much. They can be handy in tight situations." she added, with a wink.

Carter remained silent, but cast a wary look at the officer with the odd mechanical suit.  ‘There HAS to be a good explanation for this . . .’

 

<location: CMO’s office, main sickbay, USS Republic>

"Let's see..." muttered Leon, as he reviewed his datapad.  "According to these specifications I've run past Lieutenant Commander Sawyer, our new sickbay layout can handle over twice the amount of casualties than the original Galaxy Class design."

"So no more overflows to cargo bay two?" asked the gravely female voice of the grey-haired Doctor Fernmore, who sat directly across the desk from Doctor Cromwell.  The entire senior sickbay staff was assembled in the CMO's new office, which held a larger seating arrangement than the previous.  To either side of Fernmore were the black-bearded Doctor Yezbeck, and the male Vulcan, Doctor Y'lair.  The Caribbean neurosurgeon, Doctor Tyler, adjusted his dreadlocks while leaning up against a console to the left of Leon's desk.  Doctor Harris, the red-haired embryologist and pediatrician, paced the back of the room with her arms folded.  With the exception of the civilian-attired Doctor Cromwell, the rest of the staff donned blue Star Fleet uniforms, each with the rank of Lieutenant.

"Nope," continued Leon.  "The new triage design converts two of the nursing wards into one fully functioning trauma center similar to the main ward and the recovery ward.  All unnecessary medical research equipment has been moved out of those three wards and into the adjoining life sciences lab.  This makes more room for additional biobeds, and allows me to re-designate the wards as triage one for the main ward, triage two for the recovery ward, and triage three for the newly converted trauma center."

"This sounds similar to the organizational orders you made prior to our rescue mission for the Zurich" remarked Doctor Yezbeck.

"Yes," responded Leon.  "I knew we were going to have a large influx of casualties, so I had to do something that would support that.  The three-tier triage system has proved very effective for centuries on Earth, and during the Dominion Wars, it helped my staff and I save thousands of lives.  I felt that since Galaxy Class vessels boasted ample habitation space, we could take advantage of this major repair and redesign our sickbay based on the triage system."

"What about medical research?" asked the logical Doctor Y'lair.  "You've moved most of our scientific equipment to the life sciences labs."

"I've sent a proposal to the new Chief Science Officer about having a closer working relationship between the life sciences department and sickbay," Doctor Cromwell explained.  "Every Thursday will be designated as a training day, and we'll have half of our staff rotated through life sciences, and half of life science's staff here in medical.  It may be shaky in the beginning, but in the long run, all of us will benefit from the research experience with life sciences, and in turn, we'll have a backup medical contingency in another department should we need it."

The raised eyebrow on Doctor Y'lair yielded a single-word response.  "Efficient..."

Cracking a smile, Leon regarded the adjective as a Vulcan compliment and responded "thank you."  Turning back to the datapad in his hands, he glanced at the next order of business.  "Ah, yes.  Shift assignments.  The past few days has offered me a glance at your individual medical skills.  I'm going to try and match senior shift leaders with officers who have less time in surgery.  So... Doctor Y'lair, you and Tyler will take gamma shift.  Doctor Yezbeck, you and Doctor Fernmore will take beta shift.  Doctor Harris and myself will be alpha shift.  Our shifts will rotate every two weeks so everyone has a chance at each time slot.  As for emergency designations, Doctors Harris and Y'lair are designated as primary away mission personnel, along with myself.  The rest of you are designated as primary shipboard personnel.  As with shift assignments, emergency designations will rotate every two weeks.  Any questions?"

Doctor Cromwell waited a few moments for his staff to respond.  As the room remained quiet, Leon nodded his head and concluded the meeting.  "Very well.  We still have a standing order from the Captain to perform physicals on all personnel.  We haven't had a chance to do that during the past few days with all the emergency missions we've been on.  So now's our chance.  Dismissed."

As everyone filed out of the office, Harris was last to leave as Lieutenant Commander Carter walked in the office.  Both Leon and Shannon stared at the tactical officer in a brief moment of shock.  It was plainly clear why, as the uniform color of the acting executive officer had changed from operations gold to command red.

"So it's official?" stuttered Leon.

"Afraid so, Doc," replied Carter somberly.  "The Captain's already approved her transfer off the ship.  Looks like I'll be wearing two caps until the Captain officially chooses a new exec."

"Will it be you?" Leon asked, his mind still lingering regretfully on the brief tenure of Commander Taylor.

"I'm not sure yet, but the Captain is still on the starbase.  If we get a new XO, he'll probably find one there.  Hopefully, he's been able to wrangle a few days rest for us out of the Admiral." 

Changing the subject, John took a slightly more official tone.  "What's the situation here?"

"The repair crew is finishing up, and sickbay will be fully operational in about twelve hours," reported Leon.  "Our new design will be able to handle twice the amount of casualties, I'm proud to say.  Also, I've made new shift assignments in light of our recent performance, and we're continuing our ship-wide physical exam schedule.  In fact, you're due for yours soon..."  Doctor Cromwell started thumbing through his schedule as Carter began an abrupt exit at word of his upcoming physical.

"Just wanted to make sure everyone was all right Doc," he offered. "Don't forget. Poker in my quarters Saturday, 1900. Bring your credits," he said with a smile.  With that, he stepped into the corridor.

Harris glanced at him with a quiet smile as he passed through the door.  She seemed to be staring at the new red uniform, if not with admiration, at least curiosity.  A snarl from Leon broke her from her daydream as she looked back towards the CMO.  As he frowned at the datapad in annoyance, she offered "is something wrong, doctor?"

"Yes!" blared Leon, maintaining his intense glare at the datapad.  "I've been Chief Medical Officer of this ship for three days now, and I STILL don't know who the ship's counselor is!  Have them report to me ASAP!"

 

<location: main bridge, USS Republic>

Marshall arrived on the bridge when he left his meeting with Admiral Maverick.  He had some changes to make.

"Captain," it was Carter, "Any word about when we're shipping out?"

"Four days to make all repairs.  The Kreltans are a more serious threat than we imagined.  I'll explain it all to the crew later."

"Very well," he replied, "I also noticed that you approved transfers for Lieutenant Commander Sawyer, Commander Taylor, and Lieutenant Commander Forrest."

Marshall responded, "Always on top of things are you Carter?  Sawyer had agreed to stay on for a shakedown cruise.  Now that it's over, she's free to go.  Commander Taylor needs to be with her child right now, so I had no choice but to approve that transfer.  As for Forrest, Starfleet Intelligence recalled him for a classified mission.  Something to do with the Klingons, I think.”

“What about Ensign Zelk?” Carter continued.  “Our helmsman?”

“Standard reassignment,” Marshall replied.  “You know how it goes: the lower in rank you are, the more often you move around.  Between you and me Carter, things are going to be different around here.  Your temporary assignment as Executive Officer is no longer temporary.  Congratulations, Commander."

"Thank you sir," he replied.

"As a result of your new rank, I need you to oversee repairs while I fill the vacant department head positions. That being said, I need to head to sickbay.  Commendations are in order for Doctor Cromwell and his staff."

 

<location: CMO’s office, main sickbay, USS Republic>

A civilian-clothed Bajoran, wearing a silver-gray V-neck jumpsuit with a black belt, sat across the desk from Leon.   His flowing brown hair was highlighted by the ceremonial earpiece on his right ear, and his nose crest was cinched downward with annoyance.  Although his body position indicated a relaxed demeanor, the furrow in his forehead indicated otherwise.

On his side of the desk, Leon was standing with his hands planted firmly on the surface.  He was hunched over slightly, leaning on his arms, and slouched to look directly into the Bajoran’s eyes.  Leon’s casual civilian dress usually offered a façade that placated most Star Fleet crewman into thinking he was a calm, laid-back individual.  Most of the time it was true.  However, his poisonous expression while facing this Bajoran overwhelmed any content idiosyncrasies kindled by Leon’s usual ivory turtleneck sweater.

“Counselor B'Rell,” Leon directed sternly.  “I’m not sure you’re completely familiar with the chain-of-command on this ship.  Despite your illusions to the contrary, your psychological unit falls under MY department.  Just because you and I share the same civilian rank doesn’t mean you can separate your section from the medical staff.”

“On the contrary, doctor,” retorted the counselor.  “There is a very clear difference between my counseling group and sickbay.  While your people are taking care of wood-splinters, mine are scattered throughout the ship responsible for ensuring the safety of family members and crew alike during a saucer-sep.  While YOU are busy fawning to the petty demands of a pregnant commander, I’M left to soothe the mental trauma of YOUR neglected patients piling up in Ten-Forward.”

Leon’s face became flushed with anger, and it took every ounce of restraint to prevent an outburst.  In carefully accentuated fragments, he responded spitefully to B’Rell.

“Now listen up . . . and listen good.  As long as I’m chief medical officer aboard this ship, YOU will report to ME.  If you do not follow that order, TO THE LETTER, I’ll see to it that you’re analyzing the migration patterns of globflies on Q’onos for the rest of your career.  Now get the hell out of my office.”

Counselor B’Rell stood up calmly with a straight face, and turned around to exit the office.  Just before going through the door, the smug Bajoran turned around and said “You know, doctor, these emotional swings you deal with could be due to some underlying emotional stress.  You should come by my office to talk about it.”

The taunt gave the precise response that B’Rell had hoped for.  After inhaling deeply, the purple-faced chief medical officer howled with rage.

“GET OUT!”

With a smirk, B’Rell exited the office.  A few moments later, Captain Marshal came walking in, looking back down the corridor in confusion as he entered.

“Trouble?” asked the captain, obviously taking note of Doctor Cromwell’s screech that still resonated throughout sickbay.

Leon, regaining his composure looked up at him and said.  “No.  No problem.  Why?”

Noting the sarcasm without response, Jim changed the subject.  “I just wanted to commend you and your staff for an excellent job throughout the past few days.  We’ve been under an extraordinary amount of stress since leaving Utopia Planitia, and the sickbay has dealt with it superbly.”

“Thanks,” said Leon.  “I’ll pass your praise onto the rest of my staff.”  As the captain paused briefly, Leon picked up on a subtle hint.

“You didn’t come down here just to say that, did you?” he asked.

“No,” replied the captain, turning around to face the wall with a detached expression.  He folded his hands behind his back and continued.  “Commander Taylor has left the ship, and I’ve promoted Carter to the exec position permanently.”

“I had a feeling you’d pick him, after hearing what happened in the stardrive section.”

Jim turned around to face him with a concerned look.  “What does the crew think?  I feel like I blew my first actual combat mission.  I must look like a failure as a captain.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Jim,” replied Leon.  “You did exactly what you needed to do.  The Kreltan commander was expecting to fight you, not Carter.”

“But . . . the crew.  They must think Carter’s really in command, not me.”

Leon sat down behind his desk, leaning back into his chair.  “Jim, everyone on this ship knows that you’re the captain.  They also know the decision you had to make.  Remember the Borg attack on earth twelve years ago?  We all know the story: Captain Riker had to change combat tactics because his former commander was assimilated into the collective, and knew everything that Riker knew.  When Picard was rescued and resumed command, no one thought any worse of him.  Neither does your crew think worse of you.”

Slamming his fist against the wall, Captain Marshal hissed “It’s not just that!  People died because of my inability to fight!  The total casualty count was 78 dead!  All of them under MY command!  Damn it!  I’ve never lost that many people before!”

“Jim . . . “ soothed Leon, sitting forward in his chair.  “It wasn’t your fault.  Neither will it be the first time you’ll lose people.  When they sign up with Star Fleet, they know the risks.”

“Did Lana know the risks?” asked Marshal.  “Or did she leave because she didn’t think I could command?”

“She left because she had a baby to take care of,” responded the doctor.  “For God’s sake, Jim!  Stop blaming yourself for everything!  You and Lana both knew that one of you needed to leave, and her baby was just the catalyst.  She acted responsibly, and so did you on the battle-bridge yesterday!”

Leon stood up and walked in front of the desk.  Captain Marshal still looked towards the wall and Doctor Cromwell looked intently at him from behind.

“You’re a fine captain,” he offered. “And you’ve got a fine crew.  Trust in yourself, and trust in them.”

At that moment, the door to the office hissed open, and Lieutenant Harris came walking in.  “Doctor, engineering reports that they’ve been able to establish that larger power conduit you asked for, and . . .”  Harris paused after noticing the captain.  “I’m sorry, did I interrupt anything?”

Captain Marshal turned around to face Leon in the eye.  “Thank you, doctor,” he said, straightening his uniform.  “I’ll be on the bridge.”  With that, he walked out of the office.

“Anytime,” Leon replied, looking after him with concern.

 

<location: executive officer’s quarters, USS Republic>

The door chimed as John took one last look in the mirror at the red command uniform.  Shaking his head in disbelief of the events during the past four days, he waltzed over to the card table.  Jazz music played in the background, as Carter announced “come!”

As the door whispered open, Doctor Cromwell walked in.  He carried with him a glass vessel with an amber liquid, and offered it to Carter.  The new executive officer accepted the gift as he read the label.

“Benecian Scotch Whiskey . . . 2311,” read John.  “Geeze, Doc, this is a fine bottle.  How’d you get one so old?”

Leon put his hands in his pockets as he replied.  “The Bremerton stopped by Benecia a year ago, and I picked up a case in trade for some old Saurian Brandy.”

Carter opened the top and sniffed the top.  “Wow!” he exclaimed.  “It’s the real stuff!”

“Yeah, we’d better take it easy with that,” warned Leon.  “It’s not like synthehol.  It will definitely leave you out of control.”

“Well, it may be only three of us,” replied Carter, pointing to the card table where poker chips were stacked along with a deck of cards.  “Only Vic replied to my invitation, even though I sent it out to the department heads.”

“Maybe they didn’t want to lose their credits to you tonight!” joked the doctor, as Carter ordered a pair of whiskey glasses from the wall-mounted food replicator.

John Carter stepped back over to the card table, setting down two short glasses baring the seal of Starfleet Academy. Leon Cromwell took a glass and held it up against the light. "Interesting," the Doctor offered. "I never figured you for the sentimental sort."

Carter leaned back in his chair and cocked his head sideways. "Oh, I don't know." John said lightly. "What's the old saying? We all different ships, one Academy." For a moment, John let his mind wander to a distant afternoon, under a certain sumac tree he enjoyed when he had to study, but Doctor Cromwell's voice brought Carter back to the present.

"I suppose you're right." He said simply. Harris tells me you were back there recently?"

"Does she?" John said, not terribly careful to hide the glee in his voice. John felt his smirk return. "What else did she tell you?"  Carter leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table.

"Not much really," Leon offered, "but I'll say this for you, Lieutenant Commander, you do make one hell of a first impression."

"Yeah," John said, somewhat bemused. "Tell that to the XO."

Leon felt his eyebrows rise. "Excuse me? Last time I checked Carter, you were the XO."

John looked surprised for a moment, then glanced down at the red piping on his sleeve. "Score one for you Doc," he said, "but I wish things had gone a little smoother." Carter reached for the deck of cards in front of him and began to shuffle absent-mindedly. "Still, this is a first week I'm never going to forget." Across from Carter, the doctor poured his prized spirits into the short glasses.

"You got that right by a half." Leon said, with more than a little frustration. “I was starting to wonder what else the galaxy had in store for us.”

Both men jumped slightly as the door chime sounded.

Carter stood up and pulled his duty tunic and pushed up the long, red sleeves of his under shirt. The Martian officer smiled as he stepped closer to the door. "You're late." he called through the door. Then the comm system beeped.

=/\= "No John, I'm not. However, if you don't open this door in 16 seconds, I will be. Virtus out." =/\=

Carter braced his arm against the doorway of his quarters. Behind him, Cromwell stood up and sipped his whiskey. Cromwell let a few seconds tick by, then related to the silence.

"Aren't you going to..."

"Shhh." Carter said as he held up his hand to silence the Doctor. "I've been waiting for something like this to happen for YEARS." The silence continued for a few more seconds. "Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen..." John keyed the control to open the doors to his quarters.

On the other side of the door, the tall slim figure of Victor Virtus, still dressed in his science blue uniform, stepped into his friend's quarters. "Hello Doctor." Virtus said with a nod. "You'll have to excuse our new XO, but I imagine he's terribly pleased with himself just now." Virtus calmly took a seat at the card table."

"You're damned right I am!" Carter shouted in delight. He turned his head to explain to clearly confused Leon Cromwell. "Three years, Doc! I've been waiting three years for Vic to be late for... well anything. Gotcha, Vic."

"You mean to tell me you haven't been late for anything in three years? Even when you were off duty?"

"I am nothing if not punctual, my dear Doctor."

"Until now." Carter added.

"Afraid not John." Virtus said. "Computer," he called out. "Ship time relative to Federation standard please."

There was a soft chime as the voice called back "It is exactly 1900 hours."

"Son of a..." John Carter shook his head as Leon Cromwell sat back down at the table. "You lied. A man named Virtus LIED to me." Carter said in mock outrage.

"Clever, Doctor Virtus." Cromwell said. "You knew he couldn't pass up the chance to get one over on you, so..."

"So he lied."

"Not at all John." Virtus explained. "I simply did what you would have. Adapted my plan to fit the situation."

Carter sat down wondering if either of the two men in the room with him knew how much fun he was really having. He sat down and shuffled the cards again.

"Alright gentlemen, the game is..."

The door chime sounded again to interrupt the game's host. "Come." Carter said.

Across the table Cromwell turned to Victor Virtus "At least it wasn't red alert." He offered.

The doors opened as Captain Marshall entered.

"Gentlemen, looks like you got a good game going." he said

"You play Captain?" asked Virtus.

"No," Marshall answered, "I was never good at cards.  Long story.  Anyway, I have a message from Ashley Sawyer to show each of you."

Marshall handed a PADD to each of them as they read:

Begin Subspace Communication:

I'm sorry I had to leave so quickly after we docked. I was informed at the very last minute that Doctor Beverly Crusher herself could perform the emergency procedure required to save my life. The procedure was a success, and I am now feeling great, and miss you all. Captain Marshall was extremely helpful in getting my transfer papers handled over subspace, so I now have a position with the Starfleet Corp of Engineers as Executive Officer with the rank of Commander. I just wanted to drop you guys a line, and let you know that you were a fine crew I was proud to serve on. I didn't get a chance to look over the transfer reports, but I hope your engineer can keep the Republic together for you. I'm sorry I'm not there to oversee the repairs, although I did get a look at the blueprints for the new sickbay ward.

It was an honor to serve with all of you, and I wish you well on your journey and mission.

Live Long and Prosper,

Commander Ashley Sawyer

Former Chief Engineering Officer, USS Republic NCC 76241

Executive Officer, SCE Gold Team, Starfleet Command

End Transmission

"The new Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Commander Mark Maddox arrives in the morning.  Later tomorrow we have a half-Cardassian science officer coming aboard."

Virtus raised an eyebrow as Marshall answered, "Don't worry Vic.  Seems like you told me we were short handed."

"You want to play Jim? We could teach you," said Leon.

"I'll have to take a rain check.  I'm going over to the starbase to see a friend.  We'll do it sometime, and while we're at it, I'll have to tell you how I ended up on Trachus II.  Have a nice night."  Marshall left and headed for the starbase to see his friend.

 

<location: Runabout Edison, NCC-02112BD, enroute to Delphi Station>

The small vessel dropped from warp and slowly came about to begin it's docking procedures.  The station was a few light years away but Starfleet protocols called for all vessels traveling at high warp to drop their speed to one -half impulse when approaching any star base or space facility.  The pilot of the small craft was no stranger to these policies.  In fact, the young crewman had received several awards and commendations for his skills.  Unfortunately, the skills had yet to be displayed for anyone who could remove the young man from the dreadful task of transporting crew and special envoys across the quadrant.

The cabin of the runabout was dark and quiet.  The only light came from the PADD of a Starfleet officer that had been awake most of the trip. Mark Maddox, a veteran in the field of Starship mechanical engineering, had been working on a report for the brass at Fleet Headquarters about the incident that destroyed the USS Crockett and killed hundreds of people.  No one was sure on what exactly went wrong during the test flight but it was obvious that the experimental power source was very unstable.  Maddox tapped in a few more words before he was satisfied with his work. 

Maddox heard the communication between the pilot and docking command. What a great sound, he thought.  Runabouts were not very comfortable on extended transports.  The chief began gathering his things from an overhead compartment directly above his seat.  As he stood to close the compartment, the shuttle softly touched down on the deck of the starbase.  Mark twisted and turned his way to the exit hoisting his duffel bag on his shoulder.

"Lieutenant Commander Maddox?"

Mark turned quickly in all directions but could not locate the voice.  Stepping from the runabout, Maddox bumped into a Saurian dressed in a Starfleet uniform. 

"Greetings sir, I am Yeoman S'serid, crew quartermaster.  You can leave your things here and I will have them transported to the Republic."

"Great," Mark replied dropping his bags next to the runabout, "I have to admit that this station is allot bigger than I expected."

The yeoman nodded and made a motion for Maddox to follow him.  "That is a common misconception sir.  If you will please follow me, I'll take you to the docking port for the Republic."

Mark shrugged.  The Saurian certainly kept things short and down to business.  Of course, the stress of dealing with hundreds of crewmen daily could take its toll on anyone. 

After several twists, turns, and turbolifts; Maddox and S'serid made it to the docking port that was connected to the Republic.  Mark sighed as he touched the controls and the computer welcomed him to the Republic by name.  The chief turned to offer his appreciation to the yeoman but the little alien had quickly scurried off.  Mark shrugged once again and stepped onto the Republic.  He stopped by a computer terminal to locate his quarters and quickly set off down the corridor.

 

<location: executive officer’s quarters, USS Republic, Starbase Delphi>

"You have GOT to be making that up!" came the shout from Leon Cromwell. "The Right of what?"

John Carter slowly and deliberately fanned out his cards, taking a small sip of the Benecian Scotch. "Statement." He said simply. It's called the Right of Statement. It's pretty interesting actually." Carter placed two cards face down on the table. "Two please Vic."  Victor Virtus nodded silently and passed two cards, face down to Republic's First Officer.

Leon meanwhile was not only sitting on a healthy pile of chips, he was also content to keep the cards Victor had given him not long ago. "Wait, wait." he said, shaking his head, "This Right of Statement is some ancient Romulan custom? How did you even know about the damned thing in the first place?"

"Mister Carter here has quite an affinity for the Romulans." Victor incited. "House takes one." Victor took a card as Carter rolled his eyes.

"It's actually pretty simple Doc." John explained. "When I was in my third year a the Academy, I took a course in Interstellar Law and Diplomacy."

"And you can see how well he paid attention to THAT." Virtus added. "Your bet, Doctor."

"Thank you, Doctor. I'll check for now. Please Carter, go on."

John flipped a red chip into the pot. "I'm in for five. Anyway," he said, careful not to let his eyes leave the cards in front of him, "We studied the Treaty of Algernon, and the parts of it that do, or do not apply since the Dominion War. All that business with the Defiant and all."

Doctor Cromwell felt a brief shiver as John Carter referred to the carnage of the Dominion War as something so casual. 'Still,' the Doctor’s brain reminded him, 'we all deal with stress in different ways.' "Yeah... all that." he finally said. "I'll see that and raise you five more."

"So I did a bit of digging," John went on trying to get a read on the Doctor as he spoke. In point of fact, it hadn't been working all that well, judging from the sizable pile of chips in front of Cromwell, but John was starting to recognize some of the Doctor's 'tells'. Everyone had them, it was simply a question of whether or not anyone KNEW that they did, or how well they hid them.

"And I found a footnote to the Right of Statement in one of the recently declassified Enterprise logs."

"Which Enterprise?" Cromwell asked.

"Uh oh." Victor whispered under his breath, as he tossed in a chip to stay with the game.

"Which Enterprise? There's only one Doc." Carter said flatly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"No, there are..." Cromwell was surprised at himself for having to think about it for a moment, "Good God, Eight of them."

"Sure if you want to get technical," Carter quipped. "But as good as Herriman was, even Garrett, you can't tell me that Kirk didn't set the bar. There's a reason why the emblem for the Enterprise was adopted to be the symbol of Starfleet for the next hundred years."  John flipped a blue chip over and over in his fingers, tossed it into the pot, and then followed it with another. "Fifty."

"Fifty!" Cromwell said as he set down his cards briefly. "Hell son, you didn't have to do that. You could have but in five. You could've checked!

Victor Virtus set his cards down and regarded his neatly stacked collection of chips, sorted by color and arranged in descending amounts. Virtus took four blue chips off his pile and added them to the pot. "In for a hundred," he said flatly. "Call."  

The comm system chimed, cutting through the tension around the table.

=/\= “Bridge to XO.” =/\=

"Carter, go." John called out.

=/\= “I know it’s late sir, but the captain asked me to advise you when Chief Engineer Maddox has reported in.” =/\=

Carter regarded his cards one more time. "I should probably go do my job gents," he said. "But not before the hand is played out."

Doctor Cromwell stared stoically across the table at Carter and Virtus while attempting to read into the fifty-credit raise of the executive officer.  He was not concerned with Vic, who likely wanted to stop his friend early while the pot was low.  However, Leon knew that the favorite maneuver of every flight officer he came across was to fake his opponent into thinking that they were facing more firepower than reality dictated.  In fact, the recent Kreltan attack on the Republic showed that Carter utilized these ruse tactics quite well.  The doctor looked down at his hand: two kings and two jacks.  If Carter was faking, and Leon folded, he would be throwing away a damn good hand.  With his eyes settling on the executive officer, he shook his head with a smile.

"No, I'm not ready yet Mister Virtus.  Carter, I think I'm onto you.  I'll see the hundred, and . . ."

Doctor Cromwell slowly pushed his healthy stack of chips into the pot.

"I'll raise you everything you got left."

Leon was quite pleased with himself, waiting to see how his new first officer would react.

Calmly, John took a last sip of whiskey before a smile swept across his face.  Following the doctor's challenge, he pushed his entire stack into the pot, placed his elbows on the table, and smartly said "Agreed."  He turned to Vic and said, "I'll assume you'll follow the smart course of action and fold?"

Virtus, who watched the showdown with reserved amusement, replied "Not this time, John.  I'm in."  With that, the science officer picked up his stacks of chips and placed them neatly into the pot.  Raising his eyebrows, he asked "your cards, gentlemen?"

Leon smirked and laid his cards on the table, certain he had outsmarted the tactful Carter.  "Two pair, my turn-and-dodge friend!" he said with amusement while taking a sip from his glass.  "Weren't expecting that little maneuver, were you?"

With a smile that raised one side of his cheek, Carter laid down his hand: three aces and a pair of queens.  "Not at all, my good doctor," he replied to the befuddled medical officer.  "When my opponents are trying to outsmart me, I just fly right to the target."

As John began to rake in the pot, Vic laid his cards on the table.  "If that's the case," he interrupted.  "Then perhaps you need to file another flight plan."  The table in front of Virtus displayed a hand that caused both Cromwell and Carter to drop their jaws: a full house.

Carter stood up and began to chuckle as Cromwell stared at the hand.  "You had it the whole time, and didn't even twitch . . ." the doctor finally stuttered.

Virtus explained.  "Statistics, doctor.  Based on John's recent poker history, I concluded with a 95 percent confidence interval that he was not bluffing and wouldn't back down.  You, on the other hand, possess a scientific curiosity, and concluded with a 90 percent confidence interval that you would stop at nothing to see what Carter would do if you challenged his healthy raise.  Therefore, all I had to do was threaten to end the game early to start you two on the proverbial showdown."

"Face it, doctor.  He beat us!" laughed Carter, who placed his empty whiskey glass into the wall-mounted food replicator.  "And robbed us blind in the process!"

"On the contrary, John," Virtus reacted.  "I let you both fight to the end, and took the winnings.  A clear-cut case of survival of the fittest.  Wouldn't you say, doctor?"

"More like survival of the opportunist . . ." replied Cromwell sourly as Vic shrugged and stacked his winnings together.

"Well, gentlemen," announced Carter.  "I'm off to greet our new chief engineer.  You may make your way out at your convenience.  I'll expect to see you back here next Saturday so I can get my credits back."

"Would you like a de-tox?" asked the doctor, referring to the quarter empty whiskey bottle on the table.

Carter shook his head.  "No need, doctor.  I'm fine, and technically still off-duty.  Good night, and thanks for a great game."

As he walked out the door, both Doctor Cromwell and Lieutenant Virtus swore they heard him mutter "and an expensive one."

John Carter stood outside the door to his quarters and tilted his neck to each side and smiled as he heard a faint, but satisfying 'crack'. "Damned Engineers," he said out loud, "Always working the numbers." Carter made a mental note to correct himself. Victor Virtus wasn't an engineer anymore, at least not on THIS ship, though John also wondered if there was really any such thing as a 'former' engineer. He chuckled and decided there probably wasn't.

Republic's XO ran a hand through his hair and shrugged his shoulders as he walked to a comm panel on the corridor wall. "Computer," he asked, "What is the location of Chief Engineer Maddox?"

"Lieutenant Commander Maddox is in his quarters."

"Specify." Carter continued.

"Deck eight, section three."

"Thank you." John added, strictly for courtesy's sake. There was no response.

Carter took a few steps, enjoying the fact that it was actually quiet on Republic for once. As he stopped in front of the nearest turbo-lift, he began to notice just how still the ship could be. Quite a contrast to his first few days on board.

John had been posted to the Republic for exactly one week, and already he'd rescued a starship, had at LEAST one run-in with someone from the future, and lost his Chief Engineer, Conn Officer, and the former XO, to personnel shake-ups. Not to mention taking on a ship almost twice the Republic's size, and splitting his ship in two... on purpose no less.

There was a quiet hiss, and John Carter stepped forward; straight into a closed turbo-lift door.

"Ungh!" John grunted as he keyed the door's control again. "What the hell?" The hiss repeated itself, but this time John resisted the urge to move. The noise wasn't coming from the turbo-lift at all. The noise was instead emanating from the officer in Operations Gold, striding down the corridor toward him.

"Evening Ensign Readdy", he said with a small nod. "What are you doing up and about? Isn't McDermott on watch? Or did you switch shifts with her?"

"No, actually, I was just taking my nightly walk.  If you heard hissing, that was my exoskeleton.  They have pneumatic pistons that activate while walking," replied Readdy. "And please call me '80psi'," she added.

 

<location: main gangway, docking berth 12, Delphi Station>

Jim was heading over to Starbase Delphi.  He quickly found his way to the bar to see his friend.  After a drink of fine Kentucky Bourbon, he heard a voice.

"I figured I'd find you here," she said.

Jim turned around and saw Captain Rachel Blake of the U.S.S. Emerson.

"Rach, I knew you were here," Jim said, "How are things?"

"Busy," she said they found a table.  "The Emerson is heading to the Benearius system.  We're surveying the ruins left by the Chodak Empire there."

"If I remember right, the Chodak were an ancient race.  Most of their remains are in Romulan space and we're just finding them in the Federation," Jim said.

"Jim you're still sharp as a tack.  Hawkeye says hi, and he's pulled some strings to fill your crew while you're here," Rachel said.

"I appreciate it Rach, it's been a while since the Eagle.  I thought that they'd have your ship survey the wreckage of that Kreltan ship Republic encountered."

"I read the report Jim.  I didn't want the assignment. It's a good thing you're alive after that ordeal," she said.  "Frankly, from what I've heard, you haven't been acting like the same Jim Marshall since you've been back."

"First time I've lost crew under my command.  I just didn't expect it to be like this."

"You're not that brash young Commander that I knew from the Eagle anymore.  I like you better like this," Rachel said.

"You're not the same Science Officer I knew from the Eagle either Captain.  Now we're on the same level," Jim replied.

"I know and there's something I need to tell you, but not here," said Rachel.

"What is it?  You know what happened last time you said you had something to tell me," Jim replied.

"I know," Rachel said, "Want to come back to my quarters?"

 

<location: Captain’s quarters, USS Republic>

The next morning, Marshall stumbled in the door after his night with Rachel Blake.  He found the hypo that Cromwell gave him if he should have a hangover.  Putting on a fresh uniform he approved the transfer of Lieutenant McTaggart to chief of tactical.

After that he touched his combadge:

“Senior Staff, briefing in the Observation Lounge in 20 minutes.”

 

<Location: Observation Lounge, USS Republic>

Captain Marshall entered the room at exactly 0902 hours.  He surveyed the room and noted that everyone was present that was required to be.  With that he decided to get things started.

"Well everyone, we made it through our first mission. Because of that we had to make some personnel changes. Commander Taylor has been transferred to the Starbase to care for her baby.  Therefore I have named Lieutenant Commander John Carter as Executive Officer.  Taking his former position as Chief of Security/Tactical is Lieutenant McTaggart."

"Yes sir," the Lieutenant replied.

"Lieutenant Commander Sawyer, our former Chief Engineer, has been promoted to Commander and named an XO in the S.C.E.  Doctor Crusher informs me that the procedure she needed was a complete success.  Filling her spot as Chief Engineer will be Lieutenant Commander Mark Maddox."  Turning his direction the Captain said to him, "I trust the engine room meets your approval?"

"I have not had a chance to visit the engine room yet Captain," Maddox said, "However I do look forward to working there."

Doctor Cromwell sat quietly in the briefing, still slightly bemused in his Sunday morning haze. The new faces around the table added to the perplexity, yet Leon's introverted personality prevented him from socializing at this formal gathering.  "They'll be plenty of time to get to know the new officers when they get their physical," he thought. He scanned each of the faces briefly, ensuring he didn't make eye contact too long.

Until Carter came in, the only person he recognized was the operations officer, Lieutenant Sullivan. As the executive officer nodded politely at the gathering of senior officers, he took a seat next to the Captain's vacant seat. Leon then looked around the table in confusion. "Where's Vic?" he wondered, remembering the enjoyable poker game last night despite the loss of his credits.

The Captain continued, "Lieutenant Commander Virtus will be leaving us soon.  To take his place is Lieutenant Raksha Xayide."  He then said to the half-Bajoran, half-Cardassian woman, "Go over the data we brought back on the Kreltans.  That goes for all of you.  We haven't seen the last of them."

"I've already been brought up to speed on it Captain," Lieutenant Xayide said.

The shock of Vic's sudden parting and increase in rank thrust Leon Cromwell out of his morning trance.  He shot a quick glance to John Carter, his face displaying neither surprise nor disappointment at the parting of his long-time friend. As the Captain addressed Vic's replacement, a new chill crept into his spine as he recognized the Cardassian blood of Lieutenant Xayide. Although the nose of the new science officer betrayed a hint of Bajoran blood, the cold, staring eyes suggested a Cardassian upbringing.

"Wow," thought Leon. "It must have taken one hell of a recommendation to get her into the academy." The doctor's mind drifted briefly back to the recent Dominion Wars, where the Cardassians were considered an adversary rather than a friend.   "I hope she's friendly," he thought. "I don't want to have any inter-departmental squabbles with her, especially with the new life-sciences/medical training program."

"Lieutenant Sullivan," Marshall focused on the Ops officer, "A commendation has been noted on your record for your performance during our last mission.  Your service was exemplarity."

"Thank you sir," he said.

Marshall then noticed Doctor Leon Cromwell sitting down the table from him. "Doctor Cromwell," Marshall said as he rose, "Would you come down front please?"

Cromwell then came forward not knowing what the Captain was doing.  Marshall continued, "It has been brought to my attention during our last mission that you went above and beyond the call of duty many times over.  You served the crew of this ship with valor and with dignity.  I have placed the highest commendation

I can in your file, but most importantly, by order of Doctor Beverly Howard Crusher, Director of Starfleet Medical, I am honored to award you the Leonard McCoy Distinguished Medical Service Award."  Marshall then extended his hand as everyone clapped.  "Congratulations Leon," he then replied,

The Captain shook his hand as the officers before him applauded.  Leon's faced flushed humbly, as the only words he could mutter were "Thanks, Jim." Realizing he had just addressed the Republic's commanding officer by first name in a formal briefing, embarrassment combined with modesty assisted his quick pace back to his seat. He felt the eyes of the new officers follow him as he sat down, hoping the briefing would move along to other business. As it did, Leon privately felt a surge of pride at the recognition of his service."

"During our last mission, we made contact with the Kreltan Dreadnaught Indwelling under the command of General Jondav.  It has been confirmed by Starfleet that we were the first to make contact with the Kreltans but not the last.  Within the past two days there have been increasing attacks on Federation ships.  The only thing that stands in their way is Starbase Delphi and the support ships that are here. Our ships have been recalled from their current missions. We're going to find out what these people want and who exactly they are."  Marshall paused to let what he was saying sink in and then said, "The Galahad is being sent here," he pointed to one of the attack positions, "She's going to be conducting scans of wreckage from the Dreadnought that attacked us. We will be going to these coordinates," He pointed to another area of the map. "The Taurusot system.  There is an M class planet and a Demon Class planet there. We are to conduct scans, and if attacked defend ourselves. We need information before anything else."

Carter then spoke up, "What if the Kreltans decide to attack again while we're there?"

"Glad you asked Commander" Marshall said as he pointed to another area of the viewscreen, "Admiral Maverick and the Firestorm will be two systems away from us to do the same thing we're doing, if you find ourselves overmatched, we can call them in."

Marshall let things sink in before he said, "I know I am asking a lot of you.  Some of you I don't even know yet, but we need to work together.  Does anyone have any questions or wish to add anything?"

"How soon is it likely that we will be getting information from the wreck of that Dreadnought, if at all? No other questions yet," asked Lieutenant McTaggart.

"Well, they're en route so we might be getting something back fairly soon," Marshall said, "That is barring any difficulties.  Frankly, I can't give you an exact time."

"If the chance comes around," the doctor asked. "I would like to get a good look at the Kreltans DNA pattern. If they're similar to Dominion changelings, we may get a better picture of who we're dealing with."

"I'll see if I can get you what Starfleet has. Otherwise, I’ll see if we can't obtain one ourselves Doctor," said Marshall, "From what Admiral Maverick told me there was evidence of genetic engineering. They only know what they are given. Let's see if we can gain access to one." Marshall then turned to Carter, "Do you have anything?"

It was at that moment that John Carter realized just how big a situation the Republic had found itself in, and the prospect of a second war with changelings...aggressive ones at that, didn't give John cause to look forward to the next few days. On top of that, he'd just heard that a man he'd come to rely on more times than he could count would be leaving before too long.

'A battered ship, a rag-tag crew, and an enemy that was almost completely unknown.' John thought to himself. 'Time to see who came to dance.' John cleared his throat and leaned forward slightly.

"Just a few points of general business, for you all before we get to the fun." He said to the room. "Doctor Cromwell has posted a schedule for medical examinations for all crew by department. We clear moorings in 36 hours, and I'd like all Alpha and Beta shift personnel cleared by then."

Consulting the PADD on the table, he continued. I've been told that astrometrics is having processor lags. "Mister Maddox, if you could set up a detail?"

Maddox noted the information in his PADD.  He had a strange feeling that those conduits in astrometrics were going to give him problems.  The processors installed in that section had yet to be updated so Maddox expected a lag or a breakdown until they were replaced.  The chief listened intensely to the conversation in the briefing.  Much of what was known about these Kreltans was limited.  Mark remembered hearing about them at the academy but no one could answer questions about them.

Carter's head turned slightly to the left as he looked at the "heads" of the Tactical Department. "If you can find the time tomorrow, I'd like us to meet and go over the away team protocols, please."

"And for those of you who are new onboard, remember I'll need your initial crew rotations." John sat back, somewhat amused at just how much of a First Officer's job was made up of paper work. He hated paper work. "Oh..." he added, almost as an afterthought. "One more thing..."

The smirk returned.

"Senior Staff has a standing invite to poker in my quarters. 1900, Saturday. Interstellar wars and temporal incursion not withstanding." John was pleased that his last announcement brought at least some nervous smiles into the briefing.

"That's it for me, for now."

Tom spoke up, "Captain, all information that Starfleet Intelligence has on the Kreltans and their ships has been uploaded into our databanks.  I also think that since we seem to be a part of a task force, that we should maintain a communications link with as many ships in the force that we can, that way we can coordinate our efforts more efficiently."

He paused for a moment, "I also have an idea about capturing a Kreltan.  According to information available, there should be at least one cruiser-class and one frigate-class.  If we could upgrade the torpedoes to a higher explosive yield, I believe we could punch a hole through one ship's shields in one shot.  During that, we could lock on and beam a Kreltan into a security brig so that the Doctor may study it...err...him...the changeling.  May not be exactly Starfleet methods, but by the way our ships are being attacked, I'm sure we won't be too frowned upon.  Besides it's obvious they've at least captured a few Starfleet officers, I wouldn't mind returning the favor by getting a guest of our own.  All we need to do is to match the high explosive yield to their shield modulations, as long as our weapons don't initially break through their shields, science and I could use the lateral sensor array to scan the modulation frequency during phasor hits and fine tune the torpedo.” Tom finally took a bit of a breath after his long-winded explanation.

Tom then smiled and turned to the Commander, "How much latinum was you planning on loosing tonight, sir?"  Tom chuckled a bit.

"Oh, it's not me you have to worry about Lieutenant." Carter said with a quick smile. "It's the smart guys in Science blue you need to watch out for." 

"Very well, we leave dock within the hour.  Dismissed." Captain Marshall said to conclude the briefing.

Carter pushed away from the conference table, stood up, and looked at Leon Cromwell. "What do you say Doc?" he posed to the tall physician. "You think you can take Mister Sullivan's latinum too?"

Doctor Cromwell looked over Lieutenant Sullivan before replying to Carter.  Nodding approvingly, Leon said "yeah, I think we can work something out.  Although, I’d be careful.  I heard that ops officers hide cards up their sleeves!"

The officers enjoyed a chuckle at Sullivan’s expense as everyone began filing out of the room.

John smiled as he set his mind to getting Republic fit for space once more, pleased that the command staff seemed to be gelling at last. It had always been John Carter's belief that humor was what made humans truly unique in the universe. They took to it easily, and used it in a variety of emotional situations. To ease the grief of a friend, mark an accomplishment with good-natured ribbing, or, as in this case, to break the ice. Carter was pleased that it seemed to be working. Working for everyone that is except for the new head of the Science Department. John gave her a brief glance and knew at once that she wanted no part of "human" interaction.

Carter gave the half-Cardassian scientist a polite nod, which she returned, but made a note to himself to make her a part of the team . . . whether she liked it or not.

"See you all next week for poker." John said. "I'm headed to drydock control so we can cast off. Don't forget those physicals people."

Leon remained in the lounge, summoning Carter as he began to exit.

"Commander, can you stay for a second?"

The last of the staff exited as the doors whispered shut.  John turned around and faced Leon from across the table.  "What’s on your mind, Doc?"

Leon looked annoyed as he responded.  "So, that’s it?  You’re just going to let him walk off the ship without even a fight with the captain?"

Rolling his eyes, John said "what am I supposed to do?  Tell Marshall that Star Fleet can’t do this?  That he has to stay because I said so?"

"Damn it, John!" hissed Doctor Cromwell.  "Not only is he your friend, but he’s our chief science officer!  He was the first one to analyze the Kreltans, and you’re going to let them take him away from us on our toughest mission yet!  We need him!"

"WAS our chief science officer.  Spare me, doctor," retorted Carter.  "We all have out assigned duties, and for your information, his reassignment was his idea."

This took Leon by surprise.  Although he didn’t know Vic as long as Carter, Doctor Cromwell couldn’t believe that Virtus would request a posting away from the ship so soon after being assigned to it. There had to be something else.

"What do you mean?" Leon asked in a softer tone, slightly embarrassed at putting the proverbial cart before the horse.

"It means that Vic got a better offer from Fleet," John stated.  "Yes, you’re correct that he was the first scientist to analyze the Kreltans.  That’s why they wanted him back at HQ.  They offered him a promotion and a seat on the new investigative committee for the Kreltan advance into Federation space."

"I didn’t know . . ." stuttered Leon, unable to find the words of apology for Carter.

"Nor should you," Carter said in a conciliatory tone.  "Yes, it was an abrupt decision on his part.  However, between you and me, I’d rather have a man with his brain back on Earth helping to call the shots out here on the front lines.  It’s safer for him AND us."

Just then, the comm system came to life.

=/\= "Virtus to Carter.  I’ve been on the main gangway for 15.4 minutes.  What are you arranging, a 21 gun salute?" =/\=

John smiled as he tapped his combadge.  "On my way, Vic."  He looked back to Leon saying "C’mon.  I've got to head to drydock control, so let’s go say goodbye to him together."

"Not before a quick stop off at my quarters," Leon said with determination.  Following Carter out of the observation lounge, the doctor grouchily muttered "he can wait five more minutes if he’s going to make snap decisions like that!"

 

<location: corridor, deck 36, USS Republic>

Making his way through the corridors of the vessel, Mark talked to engineering.  "I knew we were going to have trouble out of those damn conduits in astrometrics.  I need those replaced as soon as possible. Mister Jackson.  The base should have the correct updates."

"I'll get a team on it right away sir," Jackson replied, "Should I locate any other out of date hardware and try to retrieve the updates?"

Maddox turned a corner quickly and bumped into a crewman.  "Oh sorry. No, we don't have time to replace every out of date item on the ship at this point.  I need those processors in astrometrics and that's it.  I'll be in my office if you need me.  Maddox out."

Just as he finished his conversation, Maddox stepped inside of engineering and head for his office.  As he passed the main display, he noticed the antimatter projection nozzles had become slightly out of alignment.  He sighed and walked over to the panel.  After twenty minutes of playing with the controls, the antimatter stream was realigned.  The streams were very delicate and if they were out of tune for an extended period of time, the dilithium crystal could become multi-fractured causing a chain reaction with horrific consequences.  Maddox grabbed a chair and decided to monitor the streams for a period of time.

 

<location: main gangway, Delphi Station>

The stop off at the doctor’s quarters was to secure a parting gift for the former chief science officer of the Republic. As Carter and Cromwell walked down the gangway towards the station airlock, the huge words "DELPHI STATION - BERTH 12" splayed across the lighted hallway. Personnel and crew were going to and from the Republic in final preparations for debarkation.  However, one Lieutenant Commander in science blues stood at the station side of the corridor admiring the view from the portholes.

"Didn't think we'd make it, did you Lieutenant Commander?" shouted Carter. As he and Doctor Cromwell strolled up, Virtus turned around to greet the two individuals. The doctor carried with him a green glass bottle, containing yet another specimen from his rare collection of fine drinks.

Victor Virtus regarded the bottle in the Doctor's hand with suspicion. "Actually, John," Virtus commented, "I expected you 47 seconds ago. However, with the Doctor involved, that explains the lag." Victor's manner was easy and efficient, but he was clearly pleased with himself.

Leon Cromwell simply shook his head. "How do you do that?" he questioned. "Why do you do that? What's your obsession with time, Doctor Virtus?"

John Carter looked around the trio's immediate surroundings. The traffic at the berth remained light, and the various denizens of Delphi Station appeared to have better things to do than pay attention to three ‘outsiders’. "You two sort this out." Carter said simply. "I'll be back in a second." With that the Martian officer printed down the corridor in the direction of a wall panel.

"Transwarp." Victor said. "The Holy Grail of Starfleet Engineering."

Cromwell was visibly shocked. "But, transwarp doesn't work," he said. "Hasn't been tried in nearly 100 years."

Virtus stepped closer to the Doctor, fingers of his right hand absently grooming the sides of his barely regulation 'fu manchu' moustache while he took the green glass bottle from Leon with his other hand. "It does work Doctor. Or at the very least, there's no reason why it shouldn't." Virtus regarded the bottle.

"2266. That's an important year. John would approve."

Leon was having trouble with the casual way his former crewmate had just dropped a major scientific revelation, while simultaneously discussing the vintage of Aldeberon Brandy. "He's not coming back is he?" Cromwell looked around. Still no sign of John Carter. "And don't change the damned subject!"

"John hates good-byes Doctor. That may be the one thing in the galaxy that he isn't any good at. Besides, we've already managed to be on the same ship three times. He'll turn up.  He always does."

There was a kind of resolve in Virtus' words that Leon Cromwell suddenly found comforting, almost as if Victor somehow knew that what he was saying was irrefutable. "But what about this transwarp business?"

"It works Doctor." Virtus said again in a quiet tone. "But it cost me two weeks of my life, and I don't know where they are."

"What? That's..."

"Impossible? No more so than forcing a quantum singularity to implode."

"What?"

"Ask your XO about it sometime."

"Right, but speaking of time..."

Victor stepped back as the comm in the corridor chirped to life.

=/\= “U.S.S. Berkshire, en route to Jupiter Station, is ready for departure at berth 14. Last call for crew and passengers to report. Berkshire will clear moorings in 22 minutes. Mark.” =/\=

"Thanks for the brandy Doctor," Virtus said as he stepped toward the airlock doors. "Don't take too much of John's latinum. He's got a rep to protect."

The tall scientist stepped across the threshold, onto the gangway the led to the U.S.S. Berkshire. Two steps down the gangway, Virtus spun on a heel and shouted back to Cromwell. "One more thing..."

"Yes?"

"Tell Carter he looks better in red. Thank you Doctor."

Despite his frustration at having his questions dodged, Leon Cromwell smiled. "Will do Doctor. God speed."

Victor Virtus nodded, and turned again to continue his way down the gangway as the airlock shut behind him leaving Cromwell alone in the corridor.

"Why is it these people can't answer a simple question?"

Cromwell's comm badge chimed.

=/\= "Y'lair to Doctor Cromwell. Sickbay is ready for your inspection Doctor, and your first physical is waiting in exam two.” =/\=

"That's more like it." Cromwell said, now satisfied that he'd made a point with SOMEONE. "I'm on the way. Cromwell out."

 

<location: corridor, level 5489-7G, Starbase Delphi>

John Carter shook his head as he strode through the corridors of Delphi Station on his way to Docking Control. He was a little disappointed in himself for not having seen Vic off, but that was the way they'd always done things. Why change now?

"Commander Carter?"

The voice brought John's attention back to the present. John spun to his left and looked in the direction of the voice he'd heard. It belonged to Tom Sullivan, Republic's Chief of Ops. He was jogging slightly to catch up.

"Glad I caught you, Sir." Sullivan was carrying a PADD in his hand.  He looked at it to check a few minor details, then continued. "Delphi's Quarter Master says they're holding 20 quantum torps for us."

"Twenty? Our full load out is sixty. Where are the rest?" John crossed his arms in front of his chest, and couldn't help the sour expression creeping across his face. 'It's always something', he thought.

"The rest are onboard, but Delphi won't release the final 20 unless we send someone to personally oversee the loading."

"So, talk to Lieutenant McTaggart. He's the Tac Chief."

"That's just it sir, he's not. At least, not anymore.  He declined the position, preferring to remain as assistant tactical chief."

"What? Griffe! Why doesn't anyone want that sprocking job anyway?  They never have these problems on the Intrepid!"

"No sir, I suppose they don't." Tom Sullivan was thankful that years of poker had made I possible to keep a straight face in front of a clearly displeased First Officer, but Tom also noted that there was a certain irony to the situation. Carter had been promoted out of the Chief Tac position to acting XO because of a medical emergency, and his shift to XO had only recently become permanent. That had the effect of kicking everyone in the department up a notch, and was not always an easy process, despite what Starfleet PERSCOM might tell you.

"Captain's got the details of McTaggart’s situation," Sullivan continued, "But what should we do in the meantime?"

Carter tapped his comm badge. "Carter to Ensign Readdy."

=/\= "Readdy here, Commander.” =/\=

"Ensign, I need you down in torpedo control to make sure our final 20 birds get tucked in. Can you handle that?"

=/\= “On my way, sir.  Readdy out.” =/\=

John tilted his head and looked at Tom Sullivan. "There you go. Problem solved...I hope. Now, if you'll excuse me Tom..." John took a few quick steps toward Docking Control. "I still have to see if anyone on the bureaucratic heap of slag will actually LET us leave!"

 

<location: corridor, deck 12, USS Republic>

Leon took long strides through the Republic’s corridors on his way to sickbay.  The ship was due to leave port within the hour, and due to repair schedules and crew rotations, the shipwide personnel physicals were going slower than anticipated.  Contact with a new species of shape-shifters made these exams even more imperative, as a sub-cellular scan and hemolytic analysis would give baseline data for comparison should any of the crew be "replaced" with a Kreltan spy.  It was Doctor Cromwell’s intention to have the physicals completed before the next Kreltan encounter.

As he turned through the doors of the new sickbay complex, Leon was greeted with an explosion of cheers.  The entire alpha-shift medical staff was gathered in the main ward, applauding at the doctor’s entrance.  Stunned and confused, Leon was escorted by the red-haired Lieutenant Harris into the center of the crowd.

"Let’s hear it for the newest recipient of the Leonard McCoy Distinguished Medical Service Award!" Harris shouted.

Leon blushed with a deep red and put his hand to his forehead.  He grinned from ear to ear, and chuckled at the poorly sung rendition of For-He’s-A-Jolly-Good-Fellow.  Doctor Yezbeck displayed a mischievous expression on his bearded face as he walked over to an adjoining wall.  There, a plaque was affixed to the bulkhead and covered in a red cloth.  As Yezbeck pulled off the cover, a bronze-relief picture of Leon Cromwell in his early Starfleet career was displayed over a description of the highly regarded medical award.  Doctor Cromwell stared at the picture in disbelief as he suddenly recognized his basic enlistment training graduation photograph from seventeen years ago.  As a new recruit, he was no more than eighteen years old back then.  The toothy grin was accompanied by a naïve expression, and completed by a hairdo replete with cowlicks and extended sideburns.

"Where in the universe did you get this picture?" exclaimed Leon in shock, and unable to remove his terrified eyes from the plaque.

"Oh, Lieutenant Commander Carter made sure we were supplied with the correct picture," laughed Harris.  "I think it suits the sickbay quite nicely, don’t you all?"  The surrounding staff all nodded their heads, and replied with amused indications of agreement with the lieutenant.

"Take it down immediately!" shouted Leon in embarrassment.  "That’s an order!"

"Oh, we couldn’t do THAT!" said Harris cunningly.  "The executive officer made it a standing order that this plaque be displayed proudly at the entrance to sickbay.  We all want everyone who comes through these doors to know who their chief physician is!"

As everyone clapped and laughed at their chief medical officer, Leon turned to look at Harris through squinted eyes of scheming vengeance.

"I’ll get you for this," the doctor remarked quietly to her.

Harris continued to smirk as Leon turned to the crowd with a smile and said, "all right, you all had your fun!  Now do I have to report you for dereliction of duty?" 

With an occasional pat on the back, the crowd took turns to shake hands with Leon before returning to work.  As the sickbay returned to a semblance of order, Doctor Cromwell took one last look at the plaque and shook his head in disbelief.  Walking towards Harris, the only thing he could remark was "you’re going to be the death of me."

"Glad to hear I’m making an impression on someone around here," she retorted, and gained a raised eyebrow from her CMO.  Picking up a PADD she showed it to Leon and reported, "I have the pre-launch duty roster ready.  There’s been several crew changes over the past few days."

"Any in sickbay?" asked Leon.

"Only six," replied Harris.  "Four nurses and two doctors."

"Which doctors?"

"Tyler and Jensen."

"Jensen?" Leon remarked with concern.  "Whose going to culture our tissue samples?"

"What? You don’t trust me?" asked Harris with sarcasm.

"Come on!" replied Leon with annoyance.

"Fine," she rebutted, pointing across the room.  "If you want the new hot-shot from Starfleet medical, then you can have her.  Frankly, I’m hurt."

Cromwell gave the sarcastic Harris no response, but instead, followed her gaze across the room where an Andorian female lieutenant stood in medical blues.  She was in discussion with two ensign nurses next to a diagnostic console.

"Who cut her orders?" Leon finally inquired.

"I’m not sure," said Harris as she flipped through pages on her PADD.  "Looks like her orders came from fairly high up in Starfleet Command headquarters."

Quizzically, the doctor turned to look at her.  "Sort of like my orders?"

Harris nodded in agreement at Leon’s observation.  "Yes, exactly like yours."

Ever since Leon was assigned to the Republic over a week ago, he never received word of why his civilian commission was reactivated three and a half years after his resignation.  The order came from the highest level in Starfleet, and despite his best efforts, Leon did not have the omega-level security clearance required to gain knowledge of why he was recalled.  Although the mystery laid quietly in his mind, the news of other crew assigned to the Republic on high-level orders only served to kindle his curiosity and concern.

"What about Tyler?" Leon finally said, moving on to other business.  "He was a great neurosurgeon.  I trust we have an equal or better replacement?"

"Lieutenant Ryda," replied Harris.  "He’s Deltan, and I’ve assigned him to gamma shift."

"Deltan?" Leon asked.  "I assume he’s on a regimen of pheromone repressors?"

Nodding again in agreement, she replied "yes, and he has an oath of celibacy in his file."

"Oaths are all fine and dandy," remarked the doctor as he accepted a PADD from a passing nurse.  "However, pheromone repressors are the only things I want to hear about when a Deltan is aboard.  The last thing this ship needs is every human on the ship tripping over his or her tongues. It wasn’t too long ago when that sort of thing was a problem, you know."

"Yes," said Harris in agreement.  "We all know the story from fleet medical.  Deltan biochemistry was so complex that is took half a century before a way was found to keep their pheromones from affecting human crew aboard Starfleet vessels."

As Leon flipped through his PADD, the Vulcan doctor, Lieutenant Y’lair, walked up to him and Lieutenant Harris.  Offering no hint of urgency nor concern, Y’lair remarked, "Doctor Cromwell, your physical exam appointment has been waiting in exam room two for precisely 7.82 minutes.  I assume you won’t be keeping her from her duties too much longer?"

Leon took his eyes away from the PADD to look up at Y’lair and ask, "Who is it?"

"Lieutenant Xayide, the new chief science officer."

Feeling his stomach tighten, Doctor Cromwell was unsure of how to approach the frosty Cardassian newcomer.  As he looked apprehensively at the exam room door, Y’lair walked away as Harris patted Leon on the back.

"Good luck," she said before returning to her own duties.

As Leon walked into the exam room with his PADD and a tricorder in hand, the door shut behind him offering little relief from the stale air in the small compartment.  Lieutenant Xayide sat up straight on the diagnostic bed, and turned to give the doctor a stare of granite-like quality.  Attempting to start the exam on a positive note, Leon offered a friendly yet neutral greeting.

"Well, Lieutenant.  How are you doing today?"

She spoke to none since her arrival.  Finding such a mere waste of time, there were far better things to do.  The slightly ridge nose, would fight not to wrinkle in stoic annoyance of having to wait around for such a trifle as an "exam".  She was in prime health after all, the only oddity was the implant that sent endorphins surging through her system when faced with pain.

Somber did the stormy hues follow the Doctor.  Repressing the urge to scowl openly.  She always sat upright, she always acted with precise militant precision.  The cold reptilian stare would linger, and for a good while she'd not even deign to speak. 

When she did it was cold and even, melodious and sweet.  If she'd ever think to be more jovial, she may just be appealing to hear and look at.  A brow ridge would rise, as the elegantly plaited crown would dip in a passing semblance of a "friendly" gesture.

"Splendid, there is nothing I enjoy more than a physical.  Proceed, Doctor."  Sarcasm dripped sourly from her words.  And they almost sounded like a command.  All in all it seemed like this whole physical thing was of great annoyance to her.

Leon stood motionless for a moment, absorbing the cool impact of the lieutenant’s words.  Although he expected such a response, he couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows in frustration.  Lowering his gaze towards the floor to take in a breath before continuing with the procedure, he looked up with renewed resolve.

“Well then, let’s get started,” he replied, hoping that the Cardassian science officer was in good physical condition as to expedite the exam.  “Computer, begin recording data stream from exam room two, and enter it into the medical file of Lieutenant Raksha Xayide.  Authorization: Cromwell-Two-Alpha.”

=/\=  “Acknowledged.  Computer transfer link established.” =/\=

The doctor asked Xayide to lie down on the table, and for the first few minutes, the only sound in the room was the overhead diagnostic array slowly creeping a parallel path as it scanned the lieutenant.

“All metabolic functions appear normal,” said the doctor as he took readings from a large, wall mounted computer interface.  “No systemic abnormalities in any of your organelle structures.  Circulatory and nervous systems are operating within species norms.  Skeletal structure and connective tissue are in good health, and your nucleic code and brainwave pattern correspond to Star Fleet medical file.  ”

Doctor Cromwell produced a small sampling syringe, and began programming it for a hemolymph sample.  “Sit still for just a moment,” asked the doctor as he pushed the device into her shoulder.  Within a split-second, a small amount of Xayide ‘s blood was sealed within the stasis container of the small gadget.

“Thank you, that completes the sedentary portion of the exam.  Now, if you’ll please step onto the anti-grav plate, we’ll test your metabolic rates.”

The doctor was holding his arm out, inviting the lieutenant onto the meter-wide circular floor base next to the exam table.  As she dutifully marched over to the apparatus, it hummed to life.  Xayide found herself in a zero-G environment, and constrained slightly by a half-wall of glowing energy.

“If you will, please begin to jog in place, and I’ll record your responses.”

Lieutenant Xayide started with a quick running motion before heavy breathing set in.  As her pace slowed somewhat, the vascular ridgelines across her shoulders and neck began to rise in response to increased body heat.  Although reptilian in evolutionary lineage, Cardassians are a warm-blooded species.  However, other vestigial structures from their saurian ancestry still persisted, and actually gave them an efficient heat-radiating mechanism when overstressed.  Thus, the increased surface area of Raksha’s shoulder skin allowed for a greater heat-exchange with the outside environment.

“Steady now, hold it at that pace.  You’re getting your second-wind,” said the doctor.  “Good.  Very good.  You’re heart is approaching your training threshold.”

Raksha grunted at the doctor’s edging, from both frustration and physical exhaustion.  “Are you finished running me through your maze, doctor?” she finally said with spite and irritation.

Leon didn’t even blink, as he was too engrossed in the readings his console was receiving.  “One more minute, lieutenant,” he responded finally.  As the sixty-second interval stretched on forever in Raksha’s mind, the doctor finally gave the motion to stop.

“Computer, end recording, and update file.  Authorization: Cromwell-delta-one-nine.”

=/\= “Acknowledged.” =/\=

Leon turned to the new science chief and reported his findings.  “Excellent, lieutenant.  I’m happy to say you’re in excellent health.”

=/\= “Bridge to Lieutenant Xayide.  We are five minutes to departure.  Please report to your station.” =/\=

As Raksha’s cold stare turned to Leon, she asked, “am I free to go, doctor?”

“Yes,” Leon responded.  As she turned towards the door, the doctor felt it appropriate to render a friendly gesture to the new officer, if not for simple courtesy, then at least in consolation for the enduring trials of a physical exam.

“And lieutenant, “ Leon offered.  “Welcome aboard the Republic.  I look forward to working with you.”

For a brief instant.  Precisely 4.5 seconds.  The Half-Cardassian, would pause for thought.  Perhaps a flicker of emotion would touch in the stormy eyes.  Before that stoic, veil of indifference would return.  The grey tainted lips would purse.

Cold the stare leveled upon the doctor once more, before she would give him a rare favor.  The merest - near genial inclines of head.  The intricate plaits held well away from her ridged and scaled flesh.  The lightly ridged nose, the only clear indication of her Bajorean side - for once not wrinkled in disgust and scorn.

For the mere flicker of an eye, the hard exterior of the Obsidian Order conditioned soldier waned away.  And she almost appeared . . . human.  But gone it was, as she would right herself.  Dutifully moving to the sickbay door.  Her tone almost softened.

"Thank you Doctor. . ."  For a moment she seemed unnerved by the slight quiver of geniality that caught in her tone.  "I . . . look forward to working with you as well." 

A shudder of annoyance, as she would frown inwardly at herself.  Spouting such nonsense was impractical.  However . . .  the soft words had slipped past her lips, anyway.  With a sharp Cardassian curse against her considerably weaker half.  She would pace towards the bridge.  Events to ponder . . .

 

<location: main bridge, USS Republic>

While Carter was busy securing the Quantum Torpedoes, Captain James Marshall was preparing the Republic for launch.

"Lieutenant Sullivan, set up open comm frequencies with all of the ships in our taskforce.  We'll need it in case we have to call the Firestorm in," said Marshall.

"Aye Captain, I'll take care of it" said Sullivan.

He then moved over to the helm.  He wanted to talk to his friend, "Jack, how's the helm feel?"

"Well sir," said Jack, "ask me that when I get us out of dock.  I find the Galaxy-class to be a challenge."

"Have you ever piloted a Galaxy-class starship before?" asked Sullivan.

"No," replied Snyder, "But I am fully rated on the design.  The Republic should be a joy to fly."

Marshall then directed his attention towards the Science station as Carter had returned.  "Lieutenant Xayide, have we received anything from the Galahad on that Kreltan ship we destroyed?"

"According to what we have so far Captain, they had a standard warp core.  They could only find out that their weapons were of a high yield," replied the Science Officer.

"I could have told you that," said Carter.

"Now Commander," said Marshall, "They're the ones that have to tell the brass that."

“Mister Maddox,” the captain pressed the intercom button.  “Did you find the engine room?”

=/\= “Yes Captain, and she's in top form.  I'm going to take just as good of care of her as Sawyer did.  We'll show the Kreltans up.” =/\= 

“Indeed we will.  Prepare for departure. Bridge out.”

The captain turned to scan the expanse of the bridge.

“Let's get underway.  Carter, sound yellow alert," said Marshall.

"Aye sir," said Carter as he pushed the button, "we're at yellow alert."

Marshall took the command chair.  "All hands prepare for departure.  Commander Carter, hail the dock master."

"Channel open," he said.

"Control this is Republic, requesting permission to leave dock?”

=/\= "Permission granted Republic and bon voyage." =/\=

"Republic confirms with thanks."

The channel closed when Marshall said, "Lieutenant Sullivan disengage main umbilical."

"Main umbilical disengaged Captain.  The comm situation is all setup," he replied.

"Very good.  Lieutenant Snyder, take us out.  One-quarter impulse."

The Republic slowly began to leave Starbase Delphi.  While they were leaving Marshall was feeding the appropriate co-ordinates into the helm.  The ship had cleared the doors and began to move away from the starbase.

"Lieutenant Snyder, lay in a course to the co-ordinates I gave you.  Let's shoot for Warp 8, we need that information ASAP," said Marshall.

"Course laid in Captain.  Estimated time of arrival 7.2 hours."

"Engage," said Marshall as the Republic went into warp.

"Carter you have the bridge.  I have an appointment with the good doctor for a physical," said Marshall.

"Aye, Sir." Carter said calmly as Marshall got up. Carter was standing over the Tactical position on Republic's bridge, watching a replay of their first encounter with the Kreltans. 'You better think fast Mister Carter', he chided himself, 'Not even YOU could get that lucky twice.'

John felt his face twist as he continued to watch a chorus of intersecting vectors and velocities. Watching the graphic representation of a battle John himself had lived through suddenly made all of the lectures he'd given during his Advanced Combat Tactics class seem a little further away. As he'd been lecturing, John had a tendency to treat the scenarios as an academic exercise . . . which is of course what they were. But now...Now they suddenly seemed more real.

In the first engagement with the Kreltans, Republic had only lost a handful of crew. In his head, Carter knew that if he hadn't made the decisions he had, the situation would have been much worse, but he found himself thinking of all the crewmen, Ensigns, and Lieutenants who wouldn't be coming home...'Am losing it?' he wondered to himself.

To John's left, the bridge turbolift opened and a tall, lean Andorian male wearing Operations gold stopped in Front of him. "Lieutenant Regesh, reporting as ordered, Sir."

Carter made a casual wave as he straightened up. "Thanks for coming so quickly, Regesh." The Andorian simply nodded.  Carter, meanwhile rubbed the back of his neck as he continued. "For reasons I'm still not clear on, Lieutenant McTaggart has declined the tactical chief position."

"Unfortunate, sir." There was just a hint of sarcasm in the blue-skinned alien's voice.  Although he was the senior tactical officer after Carter was transferred to executive officer, Captain Marshall felt it necessary to move Sean McTaggart into the chief tactical officer’s position instead of Regesh.  Although the Andorian did not dispute the decision, he was a bit insulted.  He knew it wasn’t McTaggart’s fault, and the fact that Sean gave up the position showed he held respect for Regesh’s seniority and thought of him as a fellow colleague.

Carter felt himself chuckle, just a bit. "Anyway," he continued, "I need a cool head at Tactical, and I know how steady you are under fire, so I want you as Tactical Chief. You already know most of the department, and..." He paused more for effect than anything else. "God help you, you know how I think." Carter extended his hand. "I'm sure you'll do your Line proud."

Regesh smiled, clearly pleased with his newfound position. "Thank you, Sir." he said calmly. "I'll have a revised schedule ready for you by the end of the shift."

"Excellent. On your way, Mister Regesh. I think we're all right for the moment."

Regesh turned on a heel and walked back into the turbo lift, as John Carter settled into the center seat. 'Not a bad fit', he thought to himself.

 

<location:  exam room two, main sickbay, USS Republic>

Lying on the exam table, Captain Marshall stared blankly at the diagnostic probe making its slow, overhead scan.  Its tethered optical cables were routed through the ceiling to a large, wall-mounted computer interface where a life-size representation of the skipper was animated by superimposed, real-time images of his various internal body structures.  Leon Cromwell stood in supervision of the automated physical exam, scrutinizing the minute bio-readouts from the sensory apparatus.  Although the autonomous hum of the machinery resonated within the small chamber, the captain and doctor passed the time with focused conversation.

"I’m serious, Leon," said the captain with sincerity.  "You really should consider it.  You’d make a great Star Fleet officer."

Doctor Cromwell was comparing the computer information on the wall monitor to a handheld PADD readout of the captain’s medical files. "Look, Jim," the doctor replied.  "I just don’t think I’m Star Fleet material anymore."  He pressed a few buttons on the PADD and walked two meters to the other side of the wall display.  "It may have been long time since I wore the uniform, but I definitely remember the kind of frightening military bureaucracy that one has to go through to get things accomplished in Star Fleet.  It can be fatal, especially in the medical business.  Even my civilian status in the Dominion Wars didn’t shield me from that."

The captain looked towards the doctor from the table with a slightly supercilious expression.  "I don’t think I have to remind you that Star Fleet is a mainly civilian organization.  We only use a military structure for discipline and utilitarian purposes."

As the computer signaled its completion of the scan, Jim swiveled on the exam table, and sat upright with his legs hanging down.  He addressed the doctor with restrained enthusiasm.

"C’mon, Leon," he urged on.  "It wouldn’t require you to leave the ship.  You have all the educational requirements, so you can take the remaining required Star Fleet courses and exams here on the holodeck.  Starfleet Command can monitor your progress by subspace."

The doctor placed the PADD on an adjoining counter and picked up a sampling syringe.  He gave the commanding officer a weary look, as if he’s heard this conversation a dozen times in the past.

"Are you ordering me to take the courses?" he asked as he brought the sampler over to the captain’s shoulder and pushed the needle through the skin.  A red vial of blood appeared in the chamber following a brief hissing noise.

"I’m asking you to look at your career, Leon," said the captain, rubbing his shoulder.

Spinning around with a determined look on his face, Leon rebutted "I had a career, Jim.  And up until a week ago, I was set on living my life as a research scientist.  Then, out of nowhere, some top-secret high-brass committee drafted me back into my civilian contract with Star Fleet, setting me backwards to a time in my life I’d rather forget."

He plugged the sample into an analyzer on the counter, and after a momentary hum, the computer registered a soft chirp.

"I’m pleased to inform you that you’re not a Dominion changeling," Leon announced with sarcasm after considering the hemolytic readout.  "On the treadmill, if you please."

"Think about it, Leon," the captain finally said as we walked over to the floor-mounted grav plate.  "That’s all I’m asking."

The two were silent as Marshall began an easy jog on the mill.  After about a minute, the captain began huffing in exertion as Leon quietly analyzed the readouts.  The tension in the exam room was high in regards to the last conversation, so Jim felt it necessary to change it.

"So, what do you think of our new officers?"

Leon responded without taking his eyes off the wall console.  "I’ve only had a chance to meet Lieutenant Xayide, the new science chief.  She’s the quiet, loner type.  A stark contrast from Virtus."

"Yeah, we didn’t get much of a chance to get to know him," replied the captain.  "Blame the Kreltans.  Headquarters wanted Virtus as their eyewitness scientist."

"Yes, Carter and I already talked about it."

"Did you?" said Marshall between puffs.  "I’ll bet he was upset."

"Not as much as you’d think," Leon remarked.  "Thirty seconds left.  Please run as fast as you can."

With a groan of pain, the captain sweated his way through the half-minute sprint, soaking his black undershirt.  Leon finally gave the signal to stop, and Jim gladly obliged.  "You’re in good shape," he said.

"Thanks," Jim hacked while leaning on his knees.  As he grabbed his uniform shirt from a nearby chair, he asked, "got a towel around here?"

"This way, " said the doctor as he led the path through the door and into the main sickbay ward.  The captain followed, and as Leon tossed him a silver length of cloth from a surgical locker, Jim noticed the bronze plaque on the wall.

With a smile and a chuckle, he tapped the honorary tablet with his knuckle.  As if suggesting a positive note to the prior conversation in the exam room, the captain remarked "you look good in a uniform."  As Leon raised a wary eyebrow, Jim patted him on the shoulder with a smile before exiting the sickbay.

Watching what happened, Lieutenant Harris walked over to Leon, offering him a PADD.  "What was that about?" she remarked, taking note of the uniform comment.

"Never mind," replied the doctor as he accepted the device and scrolled through its contents.  "Let’s see who’s next on the list.  Ah, here we go.   A new security officer, Ensign Reddy.”

Harris quickly searched the room and found another PADD on a desk by the nurses’ station.  She brought it over to Leon and offered it to him in exchange for the one in his hand.  "Sorry about that," she submitted.  "I had a chance to perform her physical yesterday."

"How’d it go?" asked the doctor.

"Well, she’s a unique individual," offered Harris.  "She was wearing an experimental exoskeleton from Star Fleet security."

Leon stopped.  "A what?"

"An exoskeleton," she explained.  "It was a sort of tritainium-alloyed exterior body frame, with a lot of high-pressure pneumatics.  I asked her to remove it before the examination, and was rather ambiguous about it.  Apparently, Star Fleet has a few personnel scattered throughout the fleet who wear these things for some sort of generalized field-testing."

"Does the captain know about it?"

"Well, Fleet security has to ask the captain if they’re going to have a test suit aboard.  So, I guess he does.  Anyway, I eventually coaxed her out of it to perform the physical, but she seemed worried about skewing the test data, or something to that effect."

Leon shook his head.  "Engineers," he muttered.  "They’re always up to something."  Looking back towards Harris, he asked, "who’s my next physical?"

"Lieutenant Commander Maddox, chief engineer."

Leon could only close his eyes and shake his head at the coincidence, as Harris smiled and tapped her combadge.

"Sickbay to Maddox.  Please report for your physical exam."

 

<location: main engineering, USS Republic>

Maddox sighed briefly.  "Aye, I'm on my way."  His expression projected his feelings firmly on the subject of physicals.  Maddox placed his work on his desk and stepped into main engineering.  As he headed for the exit, Ensign Jackson matched his stride and handed him a PADD.

"I've got those components installed as you requested," Jackson said firmly, "Astrometrics reported they are operating at 97.79 percent.  I have to admit that is better than I expected."

Maddox glanced at the young officer and smiled.  It had been almost three years since the two had met on Starbase 323 for the Annual Cochrane Science and Mechanics Seminar.  Maddox remembered the officer's face and how it seemed as though Jackson was only a kid.  Of course the two talked and debated on the theory of warp pulse technology and disagreed on the relevance of the Dyson sphere so they instantly become friends.  If it was one thing that engineers had in common, it was the nature of being very stubborn and hardheaded.  When an engineer decides that his point is more logical than his opponents, the battle begins.

Maddox glanced over the data on the view screen of the PADD and nodded in a pleasing manner.  "I'm impressed, Mr. Jackson.  Of course, I had no worries."

Jackson nodded.  "So where to in such a hurry?"

"Well," Mark began rolling his eyes, "They seem to have picked my number from the hat in sickbay.  I really don't care for physicals but what can you do?"  Since the loss of his arm, Mark felt it painful to visit with any type of doctor.  The constant reminder of the incident was always attached to his body so he didn't need some needle poker to tell him that his prosthetic was 'functioning within normal parameters.  The chief returned the PADD to Jackson.  "You can file that on my desk so I can take a more in depth look at the numbers.  I want to make sure that we don't have any other problems."

Jackson nodded.  "Of course sir.  I made sure to run a level three diagnostic on the rest of the systems after the install and everything came back fine."  The ensign stopped as they rounded a corner.  "Well sir, I think this is where I get off.  I'll see you in engineering."

Maddox gave a smile as the young man walked hurriedly down the corridor, leaving the chief to stand outside of the entrance of sickbay.   He shrugged and stepped toward the door making them slowly open.  As he stepped in, he noticed a group of nurses busy at work.  Mark grabbed the attention of one of the nurses.  "Lieutenant Commander Maddox reporting for my physical."

The nurse gave the chief a nod and motioned him toward a bio bed.

"Please have a seat on the bed and I'll get Doctor Cromwell."

As Mark sat down, he slowly scanned the expanse of sickbay’s main ward.  He was familiar with the standard layout of Galaxy Class starships, as he made it a firm personal commitment to study every inch of a vessel to which he was assigned.  However, the sickbay did not correspond to what he knew of the deck plans on this level.  Although there seemed to be minor cosmetic and equipment changes, the most obvious change was the number of patient repositories.  There were about twice as many biobeds than what he could recall from the plans, and the wall above each bed boasted two panels of which he was unfamiliar with.  They were rectangular in shape, about thirty centimeters tall, a meter wide, and affixed at intervals of a little over half a meter in elevation.  Every bed in the ward had them, and the chief engineer was puzzled as to what their purpose was.

Nurses and medical technicians were bustling about, performing physicals on other biodbeds with lower ranking crew personnel and civilian family members.    The chief stared quizzically at the equipment arrangement surrounding him for no more than three minutes before a small side door opened, and two individuals walked out.  One was Doctor Cromwell, the civilian chief medical officer he met at the staff meeting this morning, and the other was a balding and black-bearded lieutenant clad in Star Fleet medical blues.  The two were holding PADDs and talking among themselves as they approached Mark.

Doctor Cromwell extended his hand to receive the engineers’ in a hearty handshake.

“Commander Maddox,” he greeted.  “Glad you could make it down here.  We’ve been very busy performing the crew physicals the past few days, but we wanted to make sure that you got yours done as soon as possible so you can get back to work.”

Turning to his companion, Leon introduced the individual.  “This is Doctor Yezbeck.  He’s our resident trauma surgeon and bionicist.  I took a look at your medical file, and before I take you to the exam room for your standard physical, I wanted to make sure Doctor Yezbeck had a chance to look over your prosthetic arm.”

Although the lieutenant commander seemed ill at ease to the scrutinizing of his bionic replacement, the smiling lieutenant pulled out a medical tricorder and began to scan Mark’s arm.  As he scanned the diagnostic wand around his appendage, he remarked, “ah, yes.  A PlasmaTech BH-5 prosthetic.  I installed several of these during the Dominion Wars.  They’re very reliable.”   Pressing a few buttons on the scanning device, Yezbeck nodded his head with a positive result.  “Everything checks out.  All your nerve strands have remained fully integrated with the acetylcholine interface nodes, and the tissue threshold mesh is well vascularized.  I’ll add this updated scan to your medical file.”

Leon had a slight smirk on his face as he watched Doctor Yezbeck make his diagnosis.  “A doctor and an engineer,” Cromwell finally remarked.  “Interested in trading those dynamos in for some organic replacements?” he asked Mark.

The chief engineer looked both stunned and annoyed at Doctor Cromwell for the extra attention to his artificial arm.  “What do you mean?”

“Don’t listen to him,” retorted Yezbeck with a smile.  “Bionic replacements are a superior form of prosthetics to ordinary living tissue.  If you listen to this quack, he’ll fill your ears with talk of genetic tissue replacement.”

“It’s my job,” interrupted Leon with amusement, “to ensure all personnel under my care receive every possible treatment option to their various medical conditions.”

“And if you listen to him,” returned Yezbeck as he packed away his tricorder.  “I’ll be out of a job.”  He began walking away, but added, “trust me, commander.  Keep what you have.  You’ll be better off.”

Leon looked down to the floor shaking his head.  “I have a great staff here, but sometimes they let their opinions known a little too often.  Come on.  Follow me and I’ll explain.”

As the two walked towards the exam room, Doctor Cromwell explained to the engineer his view of prosthetic replacements.  “I wouldn’t trade Doctor Yezbeck for anyone.  However, when it comes to replacing body tissue, we tend to deviate on our opinions.  Yezbeck is a firm believer in artificial prosthetics, and feels that patients are better off with the efficiency, longevity, and ease of repair that modern prosthetics offer.  I don’t argue with him on those points, since he comes from a field where you’re dealing with mass casualties and need quick replacements for severed limbs or crippled organ systems.”

Mark and Leon entered into the small exam room.  Motioning him over to the bed, Doctor Cromwell said, “please remove your uniform over shirt, and lie down here on the exam table.”

As Maddox complied, the doctor continued his point.  “Yezbeck, is a pragmatist for the here and now.  He wants to put his patients back together as quickly as possible, and send them on their way.  It’s an important view for a trauma surgeon, but in my opinion, it doesn’t serve the long-term interests of the patient.  My personal view on prosthetics is to repair and re-grow as much of the body tissue as possible before considering artificial replacements.

Mark lay down on the table, and Doctor Cromwell walked over to the large, wall-mounted computer display, and activated the scanning interface.  “Computer, begin recording data stream from exam room two, and enter it into the medical file of Lieutenant Commander Mark Maddox.  Authorization: Cromwell-Two-Alpha.”

=/\=  “Acknowledged.  Computer transfer link established.” =/\=

The large, overhead sensor began a slow, parallel scan of Lieutenant Commander Maddox as the internal display of his body appeared in full-size detail on Leon’s monitor.  The artificial limb in question showed up as a gray, metallic mesh in stark contrast to the bright, colorful organic structures.

“Look doc, I’ve already heard this tale,” Maddox finally said with annoyance.  “The doctors who attached this limb said it was too complex of a structure to attempt a growth complex.  As far as I’m concerned, I’m stuck with it, and need to learn to live with it.”

Leon took note of the engineer’s negative apathy on the subject, but still persisted.  “Don’t misunderstand me,” he said with a conciliatory voice.  “Prosthetics definitely have their place.  Yes, some organs are so complicated that we’re unable to differentiate all the necessary stem cells for every single structure and apply the standard hormonal growth complex.  Organs such as eyes and cardio-pulmonary structures are next to impossible to duplicate organically.  However, I’ve had success in the past with regeneration of limb structures.  Now, I don’t want to give you false hope.  It would take several months of sickbay visits to collect enough adult stem cell tissue from your body to attempt a growth complex for the different limb structures.  But I’d like you to think about it.  Organic replacement therapy is a growing field, and you’re a prime candidate for it.”

Mark stared at the overhead scanner in thought.  If there is some truth to what the doctor was saying, then it may be possible