Wake Me Up When September Ends, Part 1

Posted on Fri Feb 20th, 2026 @ 12:34am by Commodore Wilkan Targaryen & Vice Admiral Loatha Targaryen & Commander Galatea & Enterprise Enlisted NPC & Starfleet NPC & Enterprise Officer NPC & Commander Nathan Bishop & Commander Zhora zh'Roothi & Lieutenant Commander Kuzos & Lieutenant Commander Sora Bernadotte & Lieutenant Commander Aidan Datari & Lieutenant Rio Kholin MD & Lieutenant Amber Laurell & Lieutenant Herbert Barr & Lieutenant (J.G.) Dylan Blake & Ensign Sayori Nakai & Ensign Mirakylin Yumerieva

6,388 words; about a 32 minute read

Mission: 7. Guile
Location: Main Bridge, U.S.S. Enterprise
Timeline: 2439-08-13, 09:30

The Main Bridge of the Enterprise hummed with the phantom sensation of a ship recovering from a digital fever. Galatea stood near the Master Situation Display on the aft starboard bulkhead, her form radiating a high-definition clarity that seemed to anchor the room. Having recently escorted Commander Bishop and Lieutenant Barr to their quarters, she was now observing them at their respective stations with a quiet, watchful vigilance, her biometric sensors tracking the steady, rhythmic integration of their heartbeats into the ship's overall life-support signature. It was really quite beautiful, in an organic sort of way.

Turning toward the forward bulkhead, the hologram didn't need to look at the massive forward viewscreen to see the lower docking pylon; instead, she felt the rigid umbilical connection to Deep Space Nine as a physical weight on her own structural integrity. It was an odd counterpoint to the absence of the crew that left a hollow resonance in the decks below, a silence she filled by obsessively monitoring the conference unfolding on Deep Space Nine. While she held no data to suggest the diplomacy had faltered, a distinctive flicker in her intuitive programming made her pause near the command chair.

"The metadata from the diplomatic channels remains stagnant, bordering on the artificial," Galatea noted, her voice carrying that signature soft, melodic rasp as she turned toward Lieutenant Commander Bernadotte. She moved with a fluid, haunting grace toward the freestanding Science I station, her fingers moving over the console. While she didn't need to apply pressure to the touch-sensitive glass (since her consciousness merged with the data stream directly), Galatea liked the feeling of the consoles as she worked, the flow of information seeming like a cool current against her skin.

Her gaze fixed on the viewscreen, watching the green, predatory silhouette of the Klingon Bird of Prey attached to the Docking Ring. To the biological eyes on the bridge, the scene was one of a tense but stable stalemate. To Galatea, who could feel the micro-vibrations of the docking clamps through the ship's "nervous system," it was a mechanical lie. She could sense the Enterprise itself bracing for a shift in the atmosphere that the crew had yet to perceive.

"Deep Space Nine’s internal sensors near our Docking Pylon are reporting a variance in power draw. I am slaving the umbilical’s internal security sensors to my primary matrix and bypassing the station’s secondary relay," the AI explained, her expression darkening with a protective, maternal intensity. She felt a sudden, sharp spike of dissonance near the pylon’s airlock, a momentary phase-shift in the atmosphere, and sent it to Lieutenant Barr to follow up.

Mira was at the Bridge Engineering Station performing Engineering Control System Telemetry Verification Testing. She was half listening in on Galatea's reports, however, when the Holographic A.I. mentioned about the power variance, she quickly arranged power draw dynamic charts to follow what was happening. She saw a spike in integrity fields at that airlock. She called out, "Engineering, Command Duty Officer, There is a spike in the energy flows to the integrity fields at that particular Airlock. Power Control Telemetry repairs for power systems have been confirmed fixed, that spike is very real."

With Urvasi occupied with shuttle test and Sora in the central seat Dylan Blake was manning the Ops station and was also looking into the power spike. "Will this affect the others returning back the ship?" he asked Galatea. "Or the decommission air lock?"

Sora frowned as she sat in the Captain's chair. She had expected this brief stint in command to be wholly uneventful. An unexplained energy spike was almost a welcome distraction from the monotony. "Galatea, send the detailed readings to the main viewscreen. Mira, coordinate with Engineering to send a team down to investigate."

Mira called out, "Aye Aye, Sir." She began checking what skeleton crew was aboard from engineering as well as seeing if she could conscript some of the DS9 Engineers getting completed signatures to help out.

Galatea’s posture softened, the sharp, defensive edges of her holographic form smoothing back into a more contemplative shimmer. She took a breath she didn't technically need, her sensors recalibrating as instructed. She wasn't ready to recommend a call for Red Alert, but the dissonance in the ship's "nerves" remained as a lingering itch in the sub-processors that she couldn't quite scratch.

"Acknowledged, Commander," Galatea said, her voice regaining its melodic, husky rasp. "The energy signatures are staying below the threshold of an overt breach. For now, it remains a technical mystery rather than an act of aggression." She turned back to the Science station, her fingers ghosting over the console as she began to filter out the noise. "Mister Blake, to answer your earlier concern: the airlock remains functional, but its operational efficiency is being degraded by the station's erratic power distribution. It won't decommission the hatch, but it might result in a lag in cycle times. It’s annoying, but not a barrier to the crew's return."

She looked toward Ensign at the Engineering station, offering a small, appreciative nod for the telemetry confirmation. "Mira, I’m sending a low-level diagnostic pulse through the umbilical. Let's treat this as a station-side maintenance fluke. I’ll keep the sensors narrowed to a passive watch on that variance. If the station’s power grid is simply 'bleeding' into our integrity fields due to the recent repairs, the pulse should help stabilize the interface."

Mira nodded as she replied, "Aye Aye, Galatea, that is a great plan." She finally found an Ensign, a Petty Officer, and a DS9 Engineer who could go check on the airlock. "Duty Officer, Engineering, three man engineering squad dispatched, en-route, 4 minutes."

She moved toward the forward viewscreen, her gaze lingering on the distant, emerald speck of the Bird of Prey at the Docking Ring. It sat there, silent and predatory, yet technically compliant with every diplomatic protocol. "The silence is still the loudest thing on my sensors," Galatea murmured, more to herself than the bridge crew. She turned back to Sora Bernadotte, her expression one of quiet, watchful patience. "Commander, the readings are now available for your review. I’ve isolated the pylon’s power-draw so it doesn't trigger a ship-wide alarm."

"Thank you, Galatea," Sora replied as she looked at the readings, searching for any kind of clue as to what might have caused the fluctuation. "Check if anyone was in the area when the spike occurred," she ordered, almost as an off-hand remark, to nobody in particular. Her gaze fell on the Klingon ship, lying dormant at her berth. It seemed odd that the Klingon delegation would arrive in only a Bird-of-Prey, rather than bringing one of their larger, more imposing vessels, she mused. After all, making an impression was a large part of diplomacy, especially for the side that wants something out of the deal.

"Galatea," she finally asked. "Do we know who the Klingons have sent to this summit?"

Galatea shifted her weight, a subtle movement that caused the light from the overhead Bridge arrays to shimmer across the fabric of her holographic uniform. She didn't need to consult a database; she was the database. The information was already there, nestled in her primary processors, yet she took a half-second to present it with the gravitas the situation deserved.

"The Klingon delegation is led by General Krennek, Son of Kol, of the House of Korath," Galatea replied, her voice smooth and resonant. "He is accompanied by a standard honor guard, though 'standard' is perhaps a misnomer for a man of his reputation. Krennek is a seasoned tactician from the old guard, a man who views peace not as an end, but as a strategic intermission."

She stepped closer to the command chair, her expression thoughtful, reflecting the complex personality algorithms that allowed her to understand intent better than most standard computers. "As for your observation regarding the Bird-of-Prey, Commander... you are quite right. A Bird-of-Prey is a curious choice for a high-level summit. It lacks the presence one would anticipate for a Klingon General. However, the Bird-of-Prey is a scout. It is agile, silent, and capable of operating in tight quarters where larger ships would be clumsy." She paused, her eyes flickering toward the viewscreen where the green daggers of the Klingon ship remained motionless. "In Klingon philosophy, the House of Korath has often favored the blade in the sleeve over the axe in the hand. By bringing a Bird-of-Prey, Krennek isn't making a statement of power; he is making a statement of mobility. He isn't here to be seen; he is here to be effective."

"In answer to your other request," Galatea continued, her hands returning to the console to pull up the station's localized security logs. "I am cross-referencing the pylon's internal sensor logs with the DS9 duty roster. Because of the diplomatic protocols, the station's internal monitoring is significantly reduced in some corridors to ensure privacy." She frowned slightly, a human-like tell of a digital anomaly. "Sensor coverage in the pylon maintenance crawl-ways is currently intermittent. According to the station's logs, there should be no one in the vicinity of our airlock."

Mira was watching the progress of her squad. They should arrive shortly and be able to check on what was happening.

Sora nodded. "Thank you." She brought up General Krennek's profile on the display in the Captain's chair, and spent a few moments skimming over it. What she saw reminded her of some of the senior officers she had served under in the Empire - ruthless, cunning, and willing to do whatever it took to get what they were after, no matter the cost or collateral damage. This was not a diplomatic meeting, she realized. It was a test of the Federation's resolve. And so it was time to respond in kind.

For a second, Sora closed her eyes, before drawing a deep breath, as if she was shedding the mask of Lieutenant Commander Bernadotte of the United Federation of Planets, revealing underneath the core that still remained of Commander Sora Svanirsdottir of the Sovereign Terran Empire. She took a sweeping look across the bridge, then began to issue orders. "Shut off any access to the umbilical, sever all power connections. Keep it physically attached for now, but be ready to disconnect. Reinforce structural integrity fields around the airlock, and recall all senior officers from shore leave immediately, via transporter. Communications, send a message to the Commodore to use transporters to return to the ship once the meeting concludes as we are experiencing an issue with the umbilical, no need to be specific at this point. We cannot afford to throw him off."

She looked at the Klingon ship and narrowed her eyes. "Tactical, run a sweep for cloaked vessels, along with some other scans just to make it look like we're testing our sensors following the repairs. Weapons and shields to stand-by."

"Commander, belay that comms request to the Commodore," Galatea interrupted, her voice losing its melodic lilt and taking on a clipped, urgent authority. Her fingers raced over the Science I console as she forced the Enterprise’s sensors to burn through the station's diplomatic dampening fields. On the main viewscreen, the wireframe of Deep Space Nine flared. A single, brilliant crimson streak surged from the heart of the Habitat Ring, arcing upward through the station's internal superstructure toward the upper Docking Ring.

"I have just detected a high-energy transporter engagement," Galatea reported, her expression hardening into a mask of protective calculation. "Origin point: the Wardroom. Termination point: the Bird-of-Prey." She turned back to Sora, her gaze shimmering with a cold, digital intensity. "It wasn't a Federation signal, and it wasn't a standard station relay, it was a forced extraction on a Klingon frequency. General Krennek has just beamed off the station."

Her form shimmered as she simultaneously executed Sora's previous orders, the lights on the Bridge dimming momentarily as she severed the power ties to the umbilical and rerouted that energy to the structural integrity fields around the airlock. "Power connections to the pylon have been severed; we are now running on our own power," Galatea confirmed, her voice a low rasp.

At the engineering station, Mira confirmed what Galatea had applied. And, she was very glad Galatea was back to herself, she was thinking ahead for the Enterprise. Mira now called out, "Duty Officer, Engineering, Galatea is correct, full control with Enterprise for that connection. Dormant Aux Warp Reactors coming online to handle power load. Recommend bringing up all Power systems for Enterprise to be ready for unusual upcoming situations." Mira was shaking, she had never been fully the engineering section, not with a skeleton crew with DS9 Engineering repair crews. But, this situation, with the Klingons, who were supposed to be with the Federation... yet, factions were always with the Klingons. She added, "Squad at umbilical, checking diagnostics." Mira, only an ensign, a refugee, a cog in the machine, had to speak out. The Valoran soldiers came to the fore, so she added, "ummm, somebody tried to create a momentary exception to get on board.. Engineering recommends reporting from all on board, to weed out those who should not be on board?" Mira was stiff, hoping she didn't second guess Sora, or Galatea, and adding to what was needed. Then again, she could be assigned to the brig, overstepping her bounds as an Ensign, stepping into the Engineering panel usually manned by Lieutenants and higher.

"Excellent idea, Mira. Security, get on it." Sora looked at the display showing the Klingon general returning to his ship, and shook her head. "This was way too sudden for there to have been any kind of positive resolution. Which means something has gone wrong, and with the Klingons, that always spells trouble. We better be ready for anything. How's that sweep for cloaked ships coming?"

"I'll start getting security teams to sweep the ship, deck by deck, but we are lacking in numbers so it could be possible for the guest to allude us." Barr reported as his danced over the security console as he started arranging teams and search patterns.

Bishop glanced at his board. "Phaser and photon torpedoes are online, shield are also online but not yet raised. Initial scans don't reveal any cloaked ships but I am fine tuning the scans and running them again just to make sure we aren't surprised."

Sora narrowed her eyes. If she had the right idea about the kind of man the Klingon General was, there was only one thing to do. With a grim nod, she pressed the intercom button. "All hands, this is your acting Commanding Officer. Make ready battle stations. Full tactical readiness."

From Astrometrics , Aidan was monitoring the ships that were present around the station, both docked and either departing or arriving. He had a live feed to the bridge to keep OPS up to date. He flinched involuntary at the battle stations order, accepting a phaser from another officer as they were distributed. While proficient, phasers weren't his preferred method; somehow it lacked honour. "Astrometrics reports ready," he announced.

Galatea’s posture straightened, the warmth of her human-like features sharpening into a mask of tactical efficiency. To anyone brushing past her, she would feel as solid and warm as any other crew member, a testament to the perfection of her holographic emitters. She didn't just project data; she inhabited the space, her eyes reflecting the amber pulse of the alert lights with a depth that felt entirely alive. She tapped the comlink on the Science console, her gaze shifting toward the overhead speakers.

Bridge

"Bridge to Astrometrics. Lieutenant Commander Datari, please report to the Bridge immediately to take the Science I station. We have a developing situation with the Klingon delegation and I require your specific expertise to analyze the gravimetric shifts near the wormhole while I maintain the ship's tactical oversight."

"On my way," the Trill acknowledged as slender hands quickly patched a few things through to the science console, before leaving things to another officer present.

Turning back to the console, her fingers moved with a rhythmic, tactile precision against the glass. "Commander," she addressed Sora, "Ensign Mira's concern regarding the power variance at the airlock has been cross-referenced. While the spike was significant, it appears to be a localized surge caused by the station’s transporter buffers compensating for General Krennek's rapid, high-energy extraction. It was a messy exit, but strictly outbound."

Mira listened and performed the power algorithms variance sub-checks. It was confirmed, the sudden extraction is what caused the variances. Still, with the Klingons in their vessel, it would behoove the Enterprise to be ready. Still, it was a massive shore leave and many needed personnel would be missing. She sighed as she tracked anybody coming in to man stations. The ship could perform with one third the crew, but not even one tenth was available. They needed incoming, fast.

Galatea looked toward the Ops station, then back to the center chair. "The Klingons are remaining strictly within their assigned territory. There has been no unauthorized movement near our hull, and their vessel remains at its berth. They are being the perfect houseguests - watching us from across the hall with their hands on their holsters."

"I wouldn't call that perfect," Blake muttered from Ops.

Not even out of breath from his jog to the bridge, Aidan slid in the seat at the indicated console and quietly powered up the station. He rubbed his cold hands together in silent excitement as his gaze traveled across the readings. "Anything specific I'm looking for?"

Galatea watched Lieutenant Commander Datari settle into the Science station, her expression softening for a fraction of a second in an organic-looking gesture of relief. Despite her vast processing power, having a seasoned officer like Aidan "on the glass" provided a layer of intuitive interpretation that her algorithms still treated as a premium data source. The hologram shifted her position with a fluid, haunting grace, moving slightly to the side to give Aidan the space his rank and expertise required. Her proximity was palpable; she radiated a subtle, comforting warmth that felt entirely biological, a testament to the sophistication of the ship’s projectors.

"Commander Datari," Galatea noted, her voice dropping into that signature melodic rasp. "I have transferred the sensor telemetry to your station. While I maintain a tactical lock on the Bird-of-Prey, I need you to extend our sensor net. If Krennek's extraction was a signal, he isn't just expecting a ride home, he's expecting company." She tapped a command into the auxiliary display, highlighting a specific frequency band for him. "I'm detecting a series of micro-fluctuations in the local subspace grid. They're too faint to be a standard warp signature, but they’re potentially vessels moving under a low-emission cloak. Monitor for any 'shadowing' effects against the background radiation of the Denorios Belt."

Without realising it, Aidan gave her a hand signal which meant he acknowledged, his eyes never leaving the screen before him. His other hand was already dancing across the console, doing exactly as he was suggested to do. Sign was so second nature to him that he was rarely aware of using it. "Looking for a tailpipe," he finally spoke up, "even cloaked vessels have emissions of some kind."

Sora stood and looked at everyone currently on the bridge. "Okay, everyone. We are running below minimum crew at the moment, while we wait for people to come back. But that will not stop us from being ready if we are needed, understand? Galatea can automate many of the systems, allowing us to operate effectively despite the lack in numbers. The most important stations I need manned are Tactical, Helm, Ops, and Comms. Engineering would be ideal, but we can live without it briefly." She glanced at the chronometer. "It has been ten minutes since the General returned to his ship. We have not had word from the Commodore or anyone else telling us what's going on, which reinforces my belief that trouble is indeed brewing. I've known most of you long enough to know that you can handle yourselves in a crisis."

"As the old saying goes, if you wish for peace, be ready for war," she continued. "And that is us right now. The Klingons will not expect us to be ready. We don't know what they want, if the General is acting only out of a desire for personal glory, or on the orders of the High Council. But that does not matter. For now, we must disregard the bigger picture. With the Klingons, everything is about strength. Diplomacy and negotiations, for them, is just another form of battle, and one that is much less preferable to actual fighting. Honour dictates that we do not fire the first shot. But we will fire the last one. We will teach the General, the Klingon High Council, and Starfleet not to underestimate us."

She spread her arms in a circular motion and made a full turn. "We are the crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise. The flagship of the fleet. Let us honour that legacy. All crew, to stations." With a smirk, Sora sat back down and switched off the intercom that had broadcast her speech across the ship. She was still hoping that this was not going to be her first taste commanding the Enterprise in battle, but she was damned sure that she and the crew were ready for it.

Medical Deck

Amber had just finished a counselling session as Sora had made her speech, leaving her office she headed for the bridge. Right now her place was there.

It had been extremely quiet in Sickbay and Rio had at last had plenty of time to catch up her PaDDs and transfer any outstanding medical details safely into the main database It was always a good feeling to have everything up to date and functioning at its optimum and despite the usual pressure of load, it was rare that there would be much backlog - Rio was meticulous, it was essential that nothing get missed or even delayed so these kinds of opportune 'slow moments' were well utilised and much welcomed. Keeping it all at bay as a matter of daily normalcy did however mean that there hadn't been a lot to tidy up so Rio had been free to do some of her favourite research into AI and robotics, especially with regard to artificial/prosthetic limbs and other such improvements to patients recoveries.

Leaving the lab for a break, the CMO noticed some tension and enquired. From the snippets that had been gleaned by the medical staff in and out of the Main Bay, and naturally from the patients coming in for routine checks or other minor reasons that the scarce few still aboard had been catching up on during this quiet phase; there seemed to be a bit of a stir. Nothing too exciting but nonetheless, with time on her hands, perhaps a trip to the Bridge on her way to 10-Forward for a delayed meal, might be a safe plan. Rio set off, letting the ACMO know of course, where she was heading initially and then after that as well, and set off for the Turbo-lifts.

Bridge

"Commander," Galatea interjected, her tone softening with a touch of relief. "I have an update on our senior officers and Vice Admiral Deix. My passive bioscanners indicate that the Admiral and Commanders zh'Roothi and Kuzos are no longer in the Wardroom. The Admiral has returned to the Shenzhou while our personnel are currently in transit back to the Enterprise." She checked a localized telemetry spike on her console. "They are approaching the pylon airlock now. Given the station's power instability, I am manually stabilizing the airlock's pressure equalization to ensure their return is unimpeded. They should be aboard within the next ninety seconds, unless you'd like me to beam them directly aboard?"

At engineering Station, Mira heard the power needs through Galatea's words. She was happy to see the Auxiliary Power Network fully up and running from the impulse fusion reactors, all showing online and at 60%, and rising. She pinged the engineers bringing up the Coaxial Warp Core and they pinged back two minutes. She called out, "Commander Bernadotte, Engineering, Power available for transporters, Coaxial Warp Core 2 minutes from being online, Impulse engines power at 65% and climbing." For having been a sleeping ship, the Enterprise was waking up despite a massive shore leave event. She smiled towards Galatea and was happy for the extended control system additions to the repairs that had been done, allowing a skeleton crew with Galatea's help to get done what they were getting done.

"Excellent news, Mira. Keep up the good work," Sora said to the young Ensign, before turning to Galatea. "Keep the airlock sealed and beam them to the transporter room once they reach the outside of the ship. That way, we will keep up the cover of simply dealing with a malfunction, and not raise any suspicions with the Klingons, while at the same time being ready to depart instantly." She stood from the command chair. "I will meet them in the transporter room."

Looking around the bridge, Sora now had a decision to make. "Commander Datari, while you are the senior officer present, we need your attention at the science station." She turned to Mira. "Ensign, you have the bridge. Should anything happen, alert me immediately." Without saying more, she turned and made her way towards the transporter room.

At the engineering station, Mira's body shifted to stillness. She slowly turned around, her eyes wide, as she tried to speak out, 'wait, are you su...' but Sora was already leaving the room. Mira swallowed suddenly thick saliva. She called out, "Understood, Sir." She turned back momentarily to slave the engineering console outputs to her PADD.

Galatea remained at the Science I station, her fingers hovering just millimeters above the controls, though her mind was already deep within the ship's logic centers. She watched Sora depart for the Transporter Room with a small, respectful inclination of her head. The AI's physical presence on the bridge was a comfort to the skeleton crew, a constant that bridged the gap between the organic and the synthetic.

"Understood, Commander," Galatea replied to the empty air as the turbolift doors hissed shut behind Sora. "Locking onto the away team's biosigns now. Initiating transport cycle in five... four..."

She transitioned her gaze to Aidan, her holographic features reflecting the rhythmic sweep of his sensor scans. "Aidan, I’m broadening the resolution on the Denorios Belt to compensate for the Qel’Poh’s specific engine signature. If they have a fleet waiting in the wings, their cloaking devices may leave a 'shadow' against the background radiation of the belt. Watch for any localized cooling in the subspace strata." Her voice dropped to a low, melodic rasp as she leaned slightly closer to the Trill. "The Qel’Poh remains tethered to the docking ring, but they’ve stabilized their internal power grid. They are sitting perfectly still; almost too still. It’s as if they are trying to fade into the station's own background signature while they wait for the diplomatic fallout to settle."

The Trill smiled grimly, his eyes never showing any mirth. "They're trying to make us forget about them but don't worry, the second they're ready to move, we'll know." He was glad to be on science rather than being left in command. "Scanners are showing some shadows but it's too scattered to make much sense. It can be anything. See if you can refine them, while I compensate for spatial radiation and echoes from debris."

She then turned to Mira at the Engineering station, her expression appreciative. "Ensign Mira, the power distribution is holding beautifully. I am slaving the structural integrity field harmonics to your board. Given how quiet the Klingons have gone, I want to ensure that any 'accidental' power surges from the station's grid don't compromise our umbilical connection before the senior officers are settled."

Mira swiveled her chair to make her way to the command chair, however, Galatea's words made it seem like she could stay at her station. So, she would stay there. As she was now command duty officer, she wasn't sure what to say, but tried anyways. "Bridge, Engineering, I have command. Anything amiss, please let me know." She removed the console output to her PADD, then returned concentration to follow the Core bring up, the Impulse Engine Fusion output, and the structural integrity field harmonics shift flow pattern at the umbilical connection.

Galatea paused, her eyes flickering as she processed a new stream of data from the station's primary pylon. "I have a firm lock on our returning officers. Commodore Wilkan Targaryen and Commodore Loatha Targaryen have cleared the final security checkpoint and are currently in the umbilical transition corridor." The Hologram turned, "Security, please ensure that they have a clear route."

Mira listened, and was so happy that Galatea was in the know on what was happening. She didn't hear anything that needed the CDO involved, so she continued monitoring Engineering while listening for anything amiss from the bridge crew. She thought for a moment, the ordered, "Security, if anything is amiss with securing that route, let Galatea and I know, please."

Entering the Bridge asking the proprietory permission as she did so, Kholin was immediately aware of how few crew were there and also how tightly their faces seemed drawn. She didn't interrupt however as she reasoned that if anything was happening that she needed to know, it would soon reveal itself. She assumed the Senior Staff were still in their diplomatic meeting, not having any information to the contrary yet.

Kuzos and zh'Roothi were materializing just as Sora entered the Transporter Room . "Commander zh'Roothi, Commander Kuzos, welcome back. I take it the meeting did not go well." Without bothering with any formalities, she briefed the XO on the situation on board. "We experienced a brief power fluctuation in the umbilical when the Klingon General beamed back to his ship, and we are using that as cover to keep the airlock sealed. We have severed the power connection and are ready to undock immediately. The ship is at battle stations and prepared to engage."

Kuzos stepped off the transporter pad with a measured grace, his movements betraying none of the internal discord he felt following the meeting with Krennek. As a Vorta, he was designed for diplomacy, yet his specific temperament often led him to feel the subtle shifts in the "emotional weather" of a room long before a word was spoken. The air in the Transporter Room was thick with the ozone of the transport and the sharp, metallic tang of a crew bracing for conflict. He inclined his head toward Sora, a small, knowing smile touching his lips—one that spoke of shared burdens rather than mere professional courtesy.

"I don't think it could have gone much worse," the Andorian XO heaved a sigh and stepped off the transporter pad. "Sounds like you've been busy," she commented grateful that Sora had been wise enough to read between the lines where a lesser experienced mind would have played down the potential disaster upon the horizon. "Once the Commodore is aboard we'll be leaving."

"It was a theater of shadows, Commander," Kuzos said, his voice soft but carrying clearly through the hum of the room. "General Krennek is not merely posturing; he is a man who has already convinced himself that his cause is righteous. In my experience, those are the most difficult to dissuade. He didn’t just bring a ship to this station; he brought a conviction that the future is his to rewrite."

"Commanders," Galatea announced, her melodic rasp amplified over the comms. "Commodore Wilkan Targaryen and Commodore Loatha Targaryen have cleared the final security checkpoint and are currently in the umbilical transition corridor to return to Enterprise. I am maintaining a transporter lock on the Commodore’s party as a secondary safety measure," Galatea continued over the channel. "I can bring them safely aboard if you prefer, but I also wanted to advise that the Qel'Poh remains stationary and silent at their berth."

Sora smiled. As she had not yet formally handed over command to the XO, she decided it was on her to answer. "Same procedure as before, let them arrive at the airlock, then beam them aboard."

Galatea’s voice returned over the comms, the slight hum of the ship’s internal processors underscoring her rhythmic, calm tone. "Acknowledged, Commander. Initiating the bypass protocols now. I have established a localized sensor shroud around the airlock to ensure the Qel'Poh perceives only a routine, manual cycle of the pressure seals."

On the Bridge , the hologram’s fingers moved across the Science I station with a tactile grace that felt entirely too human. She kept one eye on the tactical display - the green icon of the IKC Qel’Poh sitting like a coiled viper against the station’s pylon - while the other monitored the flickering gold biosigns of the Commodores.

"The Targaryens have reached the outer hatch," Galatea noted, her voice steady. "Energizing."

Mira listened in at the Engineering Station. She replied, "Thank you, Galatea. Bridge crew, be aware, Coaxial Power Reactor fully online, Impulse engine Fusion reactors fully online. The ship's power systems are fully 100% for needs. Impulse at ready, Warp, Coaxial, and Slipstream at the ready. Navigational shielding has been tweaked to hide this extent, so far, outbound energies show power system cyclic testing, not full readiness. Let me know if anything becomes amiss, otherwise, we await Commodore Targaryen's return to the Bridge."

~Wait, that's a lot of readiness for what should be a quiet moment whilst a meeting is going on elsewhere, and why is the Commadore due back so early?~ Rio's mind raced, thoughts going in all directions, she turned to look at the Chief Counsellor at the next station along from herself, also seeming to be relatively newly arrived as she herself was. She got only equally quizzical looks from Amber so Rio used her console to silent send her colleague a personal message.

"Have you been here long, Counsellor? Is it my imagination of have I walked into something tense?" she typed and sent across to Laurel's console.

“I haven’t long arrived either” Amber sent back across to Rio. “But it seems we have a problem with the Klingons.”

Zhora's gaze shifted sideways to Sora scrutinising her momentarily. "Very good, Commander."

"Not my first rodeo," Sora replied with a smirk.

In the Transporter Room, the air began to shimmer with the familiar, high-energy hum of the Enterprise's transporters. Two tall, imposing figures began to coalesce on the pads adjacent to Kuzos and zh'Roothi. Commodore Wilkan Targaryen and Commodore Loatha Targaryen materialized with the stiff, military precision of officers who had just walked out of a potential war zone.

"Permission to come aboard?" The Enterprise Commander's sense of humor was on display as he stepped off the platform.

Sora grinned. "Are you asking or telling? I mean, you did leave me in command, and I haven't been relieved, so. You know." She laughed before continuing. "So the Commander has given me a very brief run down of what happened, in that it went about as well as it would if you sent a herd of cows through a porcelain gallery. When we noticed the Klingon transport to his ship with no word from any of you on the station, I ordered the ship to battle stations and full tactical readiness. We're still a little below minimum crew, but all essential positions are filled, and with Galatea automating some systems, we're ready to go."

Loatha stepped off the transporter pad with a feline grace that belied the heavy, oppressive tension of the last hour. While Wilkan leaned into his characteristic wit to diffuse the adrenaline, Loatha remained the icy anchor of the pair. Her uniform was immaculate, but her eyes moved over the room with a tactical hunger, immediately cataloging the readiness of the personnel present. She looked at Sora, her expression softening just enough to convey a rare moment of genuine approval. To Loatha, competence was the highest form of loyalty.

"You made the right call, Commander," Loatha said, her voice a cool, steady alto that cut through the residual hum of the transporter cycle. "If you hadn't put this ship on a war footing the moment Krennek moved, I would be questioning your fitness for that chair. As it stands, your instincts have saved us several minutes we no longer have to spare."

Wilkan stepped off the transporter pad behind his wife, studying those gathered with the intensity of a hawk preparing to swoop in upon his prey. "With the battle preparations underway, now we only have about twenty minutes to make them unneeded," the Enterprise's Captain said, adjusting his tunic with a sharp, habitual tug that signaled the diplomat was gone and the soldier was back on duty.

The Commodore's gaze stopped upon Sora for a moment, but he knew that the time to show support for the actions taken by his Operations Manager had been taken by Loatha. Instead, Wilkan was running through various tactical scenarios: calculating fuel burn, sensor blind spots, and exactly how much pressure he could put on the Qel'Poh before the Khitomer Alliance became an historical footnote. They had twenty minutes to prevent a war, and failure really wasn't an option if they wanted to avoid the Brig.

"Walk with me," Wilkan directed, already halfway through the door without looking back to confirm they were following. He knew they would be. Loatha had already fallen in step behind him, her stride perfectly mirroring his - a silent, lethal extension of their bond.

Sora simply nodded, and followed the Commodores out of the transporter room, looking entirely unbothered by the high stakes of the situation. Just another day on the job, after all.

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