Wake Me Up When September Ends, Part 3

Posted on Tue Feb 24th, 2026 @ 2:55am by Commodore Wilkan Targaryen & Lieutenant Urvasi Elandorn & Lieutenant Rio Kholin MD & Lieutenant Amber Laurell & Lieutenant (J.G.) Dylan Blake & Ensign Sayori Nakai & Ensign Mirakylin Yumerieva

5,529 words; about a 28 minute read

Mission: 7. Guile
Location: Main Bridge, U.S.S. Enterprise
Timeline: 2439-08-13, 10:15

The Bridge of the Enterprise was a pressurized chamber of violet light and bated breath. Wilkan Targaryen sat in the Captain's Chair, his spine a rigid line of defiance. On the main viewscreen, he watched the Shenzhou and the Ourainavassa engage in a silent, high-stakes debate of sensors and shadows. Beneath him, the pylon groaned - not from physics, but from the mounting tension of a cold war about to go hot.

"One minute to terminal contact," Galatea’s melodic rasp vibrated through the deckplates. "The Shenzhou has initialized a wide-band suppression field. Telemetry to the away teams is failing. We are dark, Sir."

Wilkan’s fingers tightened on the armrest. He didn't need sensors to know that Loatha and the teams were now effectively alone. Deix wasn't just enforcing a blackout; he was creating a tomb. "He’s blinding them," Wilkan whispered, the sound a low, predatory growl. "He’s letting the House of Korath hold the match in a room full of gasoline just to ensure he has a clear line of sight for his boarding teams."

"Captain," Commander Nathan Bishop called from Tactical, his voice sharp. "The Shenzhou isn't just positioning; they’re priming transporters. And sensors show security details moving toward the station airlocks. Deix is skipping the formalities. He’s coming through the door the moment that clock hits zero."

Wilkan stood, moving to the center of the command well. He looked at the Ourainavassa on the viewer. He saw the Romulan ship shifting like a massive jade predator sliding into the space between the Shenzhou and the station’s pylon.

"The Romulans are making their move," Wilkan observed, his mind calculating the displacement. "They aren't here for the Admiral. They’re here for the crystals."

Suddenly, the static on the tactical display flickered. The heavy, oppressive weight of the Shenzhou’s suppression field began to ripple and thin.

"Captain," Galatea reported, her voice carrying a hint of artificial intrigue. "The Ourainavassa has engaged its cloaking matrix in a high-energy feedback loop. They are siphoning the Shenzhou’s dampening field. Telemetry is returning... and the suppression field is dissipating."

Wilkan watched as the Romulan ship seemed to shimmer, effectively acting as a lightning rod for Deix's authority. He felt the shift in the air. The board was no longer being controlled by the Admiral.

The digital chronometer vanished. The red glow of the "hour of peace" died.

"The clock has run out," Wilkan announced, his voice regaining its iron-clad resonance. "Blow the docking clamps! Undock the ship!"

Urvasi's fingers danced over the console as she bypassed the normal 'protocol escalation' to a direct 'emergency release now'. Power to the clamps went away while explosive gas charges released their highly compressed loads. The gasses shoved the Enterprise away from the docking clamps as Urvasi used thrusters to continue the momentum away as she engaged Impulse at a slow rising logarithmic curve allowing her very delicate control of position and speed of the Enterprise under impulse and not just thrusters. A joystick came out from the control panel. She called out, "Enterprise released, full low value impulse control ready."

Wilkan stood at the center of the bridge, his eyes fixed on the tactical overlay. The Ourainavassa was still shimmering, a ghost ship holding Deix's suppression field at bay. "Helm, bring us about. Down angle, five degrees. I want our belly right on top of Krennek’s hull. Bishop, stay on those ventral shields. If the Qel'Poh so much as sneezes, I want our shield frequency to match their hull resonance. Lock them in the cradle."

Even as Urvasi called out, "Aye Aye, Captain," the ship was already coming about in an arc to down angle, five degrees, and already moving towards position.

Enterprise's Captain looked at Ops then Science, "You two - work together. I want you to penetrate that temporal interference and get those crystals aboard this ship. We need to get them secured to the Department of Temporal Investigations."

"On it", Sayori replied, and, without waiting for Blake's reply, began her work.

"Aye, sir," Blake added and started keying his console, linking in with Sayori at science.

The Commodore looked at the Ship's Counselor, "Find anything that I can use against the General?"

“Try that Klingon pride of his, he’s looking to make a name for himself that they’ll sing songs about.” Amber added. “Try getting under his skin, no Klingon likes that.”

"Sir," Galatea’s voice echoed, now clear of the dampening field. "The Shenzhou is hailing. Admiral Deix is demanding our immediate surrender."

Wilkan crossed his arms and looked at the Enterprise's AI. He had no intention of surrendering to Krennek, the Admiral, no one. Though, he knew that this was his last chance to have some help instead of having to go this alone. Turning toward the viewer, "On screen."

The main viewscreen flickered from the tactical overlay to the bridge of the USS Shenzhou. Vice Admiral Astran Deix looked like a man who had already passed a death sentence. His face was a mask of cold, bureaucratic fury, set against the red lighting of his own bridge.

"Commodore Targaryen," Deix’s voice was a low, dangerous rasp that filled the Enterprise Bridge. "You have ignored direct orders, bypassed Starfleet security protocols, and are currently physically obstructing a diplomatic vessel during an active boarding action. You are in open mutiny."

Wilkan didn't sit. He stood at the center of his bridge, feet shoulder-width apart, eyes locked onto Deix’s. He could hear the frantic chirping of Blake and Sayori’s consoles as they fought the temporal static coming from Cargo Bay 4.

"Admiral," Wilkan began, his voice dropping into that deep, resonant register that commanded the room. "The 'mutiny' you’re describing is a Starfleet crew preventing a temporal collapse while you try to disable their only support. The Ourainavassa is currently doing your job for you, siphoning the interference you created so we can actually see the threat." Wilkan leaned slightly forward, his presence filling the transmission. "General Krennek isn't a diplomat; he's a smuggler and you're giving him the means to escape. I have the Qel'Poh pinned and my team's currently locking onto the crystals for transport to a DTI-secure stasis field. Astran, please, if you fire on this ship you aren't arresting a mutineer, you're aiding a Klingon war criminal and starting us down a path that we just can't survive!"

On the viewscreen, the muscle in Deix’s jaw twitched. For a heartbeat, the statue of Starfleet composure cracked. The use of his first name seemed to hang in the air of the Shenzhou’s bridge like a physical weight. "The law is the only path we survive, Wilkan," Deix replied, though his voice had lost a fraction of its icy bite, replaced by a weary, stubborn conviction. "If I let you subvert the chain of command every time you sense a 'threat,' there is no Federation left to save."

"Admiral!" T’Vrell’s voice cut in from the Shenzhou’s tactical station. "The Qel'Poh is venting plasma. They are overcharging their impulse manifolds. They’re going to attempt a forced separation from the docking ring directly into the Enterprise’s hull!"

Wilkan didn’t wait for Deix to respond. He spun toward his own crew. "All hands, brace for impact! Reinforce the structural integrity field! Blake, Sayori—if you’re going to pull those crystals and our teams, it has to be now!"

Urvasi had already put the Enterprise into position. She thought fast. The Enterprise was the much larger vessel, and it could absorb kinetic energy if it was in contact with the Bird of Prey. She decided to act as a Senior officer and hopefully the Commodore would understand what she was doing. "Commander Bishop, match shield frequencies now...." Urvasi brought the Enterprise down and directly onto the Qel'Poh as she called out, "Captain, Helm, Performing Dog Pile... no ramming when already on target."

At Tactical, Bishop silently nodded. His fingers raced over the control panel as he tried to match shield frequencies to keep the Enterprise in one piece. It was next to impossible to determine an enemy's shield frequency in normal operations, but this wasn't normal. Instead, Enterprise's shields were directly against the shields of their opponent. With the help of Galatea, it was likely they could determine the frequency.

Instead it was Ash who answered, "Frequencies matched."

As the Enterprise pressed down, the screech of metal-on-metal hull plating echoed through the Bridge.

"Hull contact! We are grinding against their primary bird-prey wing assembly!" Bishop shouted, his hands white-knuckled on the tactical console. "Shields at 82% and holding, but the friction is creating a localized rupture!"

"Hold us here," Wilkan ignored the sparks showering from a ceiling conduit. He looked at Blake and Sayori. "The interference is being crushed by our own shield envelope! You have your window! GET THEM OUT!" He didn't like to yell, seeing it as a loss of control, but now was the time.

"Got it!", Sayori exclaimed, her usual chattiness completely suppressed by the urgency of the situation. "Blake, sending you parameters now!"

Urvasi called out, "Reinforce the SIF, our reactive armor should be more than enough against the Bird of Prey. *idea* Overide Activate emergency hull breach forcefields, that will help prevent rupture, the point of contact is between warp core and navigational dish array on the bottom, where the hull plating and reinforcement are thickest due to those structures."

"Trying to establish transporter lock," Blake announced battling to maintain the delicate balance required among the chaos and trembling of the Enterprise.

Wilkan commanded, "Amber, get on the horn. Tell Krennek if he doesn't cut his engines, I'll flatten his ship into a souvenir coin. Use that 'pride' you talked about - tell him a General shouldn't die under the heel of a boot."

“Understood Sir!” Amber nodded wondering just how much luck she’d have with convincing a Klingon general to do anything.

Urvasi, upon hearing that, decided to begin a wiggle with the Enterprise. She began gently rocking the ship, forcing an indent into the Bird of Prey for more contact force with the Enterprise, spreading the 'distribution' of contact across more of their hulls, with every larger distribution causing less strain on the Enterprise but more on the Bird of Prey.

"Doctor," Targaryen looked at his Chief Medical Officer, "Do a life-form scan of that Cargo Bay. I want to know everyone's status and I want to know now!"

"Aye Sir, Right away!" Rio responded and began instantly attempting to get some clear bioscans focussed. It wasn't easy with the fluctuations from the crystals and the Shenzou's interference but she persevered again and again. "I'm not able to get clarity Sir but I won't stop trying repeatedly until I'm successful." she promised.

At comms Amber had hailed Krennek passing along Wilkan’s message about having his ship flattened. “Commodore…Krennek says he doesn’t talk to little girls, and either we get out of his way, or he’ll leave a gaping hole through the Enterprise!”

Wilkan’s jaw set into a hard, dangerous line. He had offered the olive branch to Deix and the logical exit to Krennek; now that both had been rejected, his tactical persona took full command. He didn't look at the screen where Deix was likely watching this insanity with horror. He focused on the raw data and the vibration of the ship under his feet. Hearing Amber's report about Krennek’s 'little girls' comment, Wilkan didn’t scream. His voice dropped into a register of quiet, lethal resonance that was far more terrifying.

"His mistake..."

Suddenly, an audio-only transmission came through on what was normally reserved as a Starfleet emergency channel. "Ourainavassa to Enterprise, our cloaking matrix won't hold much longer. You have maybe two minutes until the dampening field is back in place. Let me know how you want to play this, Wilkan. After this, we're even."

"Hold that cloak for every second you have left. I’m making my move," he directed the Romulans, realizing that this really was the end of that favor that he was owed. Well, maybe. Then, he turned to Blake and Sayori. "He’s distracted. He’s looking at the ceiling, not the floorboards. Use the localized resonance from our shield contact to mask the transporter hum. I want our teams and those crystals out of there."

"I still can't lock on our people Commodore," Blake grimaced with increased frustration.

An ease of shift was felt in the Enterprise as Urvasi called out, "The Enterprise now has a seat, maintaining current pressure, let me know when you want more to start crushing their hull more than it is."

"Standby," Wilkan ordered, his voice cracking like a whip. "Doctor, I need those life-signs. If Krennek won't listen to reason, I'm going to have to crush him until he can't breathe, and I need to know exactly when to stop so I don't kill my wife in the process."

Kholin was still doing her best work with the bioscanner and it's problems but she had made some progress albeit in piecemeal results. "Sir, I can confirm biosigns for one Andorian, One Vorta, four humans, two trill, one El Aurian, one mini-dragon, one Bajoran, one Arlekian, sorry, make that TWO Bajorans and a Vulcan Sir"

Looking at the Counselor, "I want to talk to the esteemed General."

Amber nodded. One way or another she’d get Krennek back on the horn for Wilkan, it took a few moments before she looked towards Wilkan. “General Krennek on the horn for you Commodore!”

Once he knew he was on, the Enterprise's Captain took his seat on the Bridge. "General Krennek," Wilkan's calm, steady, and terrifyingly cold voice came through. "This is Commodore Wilkan Targaryen. You're currently standing in a room where the wall is being pushed by my hand. Every centimeter I drop this ship is a testament to your failure to protect your crew, your cargo, and your honor. You can boast, but while you stand there, my wife is looking you in the eye, and my ship is crushing yours. If you fire those disruptors, you won't kill the Enterprise. You will merely spark the atmosphere in that bay and ensure you die in a flash of heat before you ever see the 'songs' you crave. Is that how a General of the Empire ends? Suffocated by his own pride in a Federation storage locker?"

"I will not yield!"

He looked to the Helm, "Urvasi, five more percent on the pressure. Let him hear the struts start to snap."

Understanding about what exactly the Commodore was asking for, Urvasi called out, "Five percent pressure in accordance with Bird of Prey, Aye." She began feeding just a touch of impulse energy into their slow rising curve. The 0.32% rise in Impulse corresponded to a 5.03% rise of pressure into the Bird of Prey, causing the indent to deepen as support struts within began to buckle. The Enterprise was massive and had to have way more impulse force to compensate, which meant the smaller Bird Of Prey was feeling any percentage of impulse applied.

"Commodore," Ash’s voice rose, weaving through the cacophony of groaning metal and sparking conduits. "Internal sensors within the station pylon are detecting massive structural shearing. The General’s pride appears to be the only thing holding that cargo bay together, but even that is subject to the laws of physics. At current pressure, the Qel'Poh’s wing assembly will collapse in approximately 47 seconds."

Urvasi called out as she applied every type of 'pressure diplomacy' she had witnessed while on the L'Tandrey Homeworld for studies, "Commodore, what if we let it almost collapse but then use a tractor beam to help hold it in place from final buckling to make a bargaining chip with General Krennek? It would show might, but a path for a way out with bargaining?"

Galatea interrupted. "By utilizing the vibration of the Enterprise’s hull against the Klingon vessel, and thus the station, we are creating a harmonic resonance. It is effectively 'shaking' the temporal interference loose. We are no longer trying to beam through a wall; we are beaming through a song."

Urvasi heard what Galatea said. However, harmonic resonances needed exacting parameters. Alter something about the physical... maybe...

Before the Commodore could answer, Ensign Yumerieva's voice came over the speakers, "Mira with Sled, Talyn with Krennel, Sora with Opra... energize."

"We can't back off yet. Keep the pressure up," Wilkan said looking first at the Helm then turning to the Operations and Science Officer, "I think that's your cue. Get our people home."

Even as Urvasi called out, "Aye Aye, Sir," she was busy at her panel checking what variance could stop the resonance. There, possibly just a small twist, at just one degree to the starboard, and the resonance might be able to be broken.

Ash spoke up as she read information on her display, a series of alarm bells crying out, "The time crystals! They’re reacting to the pressure. If we don't pull them now, they might trigger a localized time-loop!"

Instinctively Blake's fingers twitched on his console at Ops at Ash's cry. "I have a partial lock on our crew," he paused. "But the crystals are still scrambling everything - I can't even differentiate between them and Ensign Yumerieva. What are your orders sir?"

Wilkan Targaryen started to feel uneasy, and it wasn't from the pressure building between the Enterprise, the Qel'Poh and DS9. This was deeper, instinctual, something buried inside his very soul. It was biology. The Af-Kelt, El-Aurian time sickness, was in full swing within him. Gripping the side of his chair, Wilkan fought back against the nausea waves overtaking him.

The Bridge lights flickered. The Enterprise lurching as the Qel'Poh made one last, desperate attempt to fire its thrusters while pinned. The sound of snapping duranium struts echoed up through the hull - a sound like a thunderclap in a small room.

Galatea interrupted, "Severe hull stress detected in DS9's Docking Ring. It's breaching!"

Commander Bishop warned from Tactical. "Shenzhou just pulled away from the station. Admiral Deix is moving into a firing solution. He’s seeing the pylon collapse and he thinks we're destroying the station."

On the viewscreen the horror of the Intrepid II Class starship on a down angle was only surpassed by the cracking within the pylon assembly of Deep Space Nine. Wilkan turned, "Counselor, tell the Klingons to disengage or we will destroy them."

Amber nodded passing the message long exactly as Wilkan had said it, if they disliked it then that was their problem.

"Wilkan! The bay is venting!" The voice of Lortha Targaryen cut through the noise over the speakers. "The fields are the only thing keeping us from the void, and they're red-lining! Pull them out! PULL THEM OUT NOW!"

"Doctor, coordinate with the Romulans. Account for everyone on DS9 in that pylon assembly and share the coordinates," Targaryen ordered as he fought through his unease, "Get every last one aboard."

Rio answered "Aye Sir" which was a brief response but she made immediate contact with the Romulans direct from her console and worked with them through the lists of personnel and the data from DS9 as well.

Sayori slammed commands into her console, frustration growing. "Trying my best here, sir! Blake, can you get a lock on them now?"

Feeling the heavy need clawing at his soul Blake stabbed new instructions into his workspace: "Not entirely," he snapped sensing their opportunity to rescue their crew members was slipping away.

"Commodore, if Deix or the Klingons open fire while our shields are down they could destroy the Enterprise," Bishop warned.

"We've lost the channel," Galatea warned.

Sitting in his Captain's Chair as the world of Deep Space Nine collapsed around them, Wilkan postulated every answer. They were destroying the station, the Klingons, and potentially killing every member of the away team through his maneuver. But, if they let up on the pressure, the interference from the time crystals would prevent them from beaming anyone off that station.

Then, it hit him, "Back us off. Focus all transport efforts on biologics. Bring every last one of them aboard, but isolate Klingons to the Brig and the rest to Sickbay and the Transporter Rooms. And, when I say all Klingons I even mean the ones on that Bird-of-Prey." It was a small ship, only carrying around 36 people. They could handle them. "Once they're off that ship, target the crystals with full Phasers and fire."

As soon as Urvasi heard 'back us off', she shifted the Enterprise away from the floundering bird of prey, however, doing so at an angle to bring lateral sensors full facing towards the cargo bay. She hoped the others would realize what she had done. This also brought the main phaser bank into play as well.

"Sir, that will cause further structural collapse," Bishop pointed out, "and may cause a reaction we can't control."

"We'll have to take that risk, Commander, execute!" Wilkan looked at Ash, "Fortress Mode. Now! Deploy reactive armor. We'll need it to defend against the Shenzhou's weapons if they fire."

Ourainavassa's commanding officer came back onto comms. "Wilkan, our cloaking matrix is overloaded, if we don't shut it down, it'll blow, and that will cause major damage to the ship. I'm sorry, old friend, we gave you all we could. We have established transporter lock on all the people in that pylon, we can get them out in an instant. And we can probably grab the crystals as well. You focus on the Bird-of-Prey."

"Incoming transmission from the Shenzhou," Galatea interjected before Wilkan could answer, "it's the Admiral for us and the Romulan ship."

On the main viewscreen, the image of the crumbling pylon was momentarily overlaid by a split-screen of the Admiral. He was no longer on his bridge; he was standing in a transporter room, Phaser sidearm holstered, flanked by a specialized security detail in heavy tactical gear.

"Commodore, listen to me very carefully," Deix barked, his eyes cold enough to freeze the venting atmosphere. "I have spoken with the signatories of the Khitomer Accords and I am invoking Article 14. Those temporal artifacts are not 'salvage' and they are not 'Klingon property' anymore. They are classified as weapons of mass destruction under the joint oversight of the Khitomer Accords. As of this moment, they are under Starfleet confiscation."

The Shenzhou pivoted on the screen, its forward Phaser banks glowing with a terrifying, pre-charged intensity, but they weren't aimed at the Enterprise’s Bridge. They were locked onto the Qel'Poh’s warp nacelles.

Deix continued, his gaze cutting through the 'time sickness' visible in Wilkan’s eyes, "You've caused a lot of trouble today, but I am a pragmatist. If you recover those crystals for the Khitomer Accords and transfer them - immediately and without condition - to the Shenzhou, I will consider the 'diplomatic incident' of your mutiny mitigated. Recover the crystals, secure the Klingons, and hand the contraband to me. Do this, and all charges will be summarily dropped."

He leaned closer to the pickup, his silhouette sharp against the shimmering transporter pads behind him.

"Refuse, or attempt to keep those artifacts for yourselves, and I will authorize the station’s automated defenses to finish what your 'pressure diplomacy' started. You have thirty seconds to decide if you want to be heroes of the Accords or the last casualties of your name. Transfer the crystals to me. Now!"

Amber focussed her senses on what emotions she was picking up, the crew’s own emotions were high which made her job more difficult, but she tried to focus nonetheless. “Emotions are a mess over there Commodore, I think you just might be getting somewhere.” She added with a wry smile.

Rio had been continuing her coordination and was satisfied that every being listed, but not otherwise verified as retrieved, had been given an EMT (Emergency Medical Transportation) to the Enterprise's Sickbay. The bulk had, however, now been taken on board by the Ourainavassa so all were accounted for, one way or another. Just to be certain, she had continued to run self-refreshing scans to ensure the end figures were double checked.

The Romulan commander appeared on the viewscreen, revealing herself to be a human woman looking like someone in her mid-to-late fifties. "Vice-Admiral, those crystals are still on the station. Enterprise's boarding team as well as the prisoners are being transported to Ourainavassa as we speak. We can discuss matters of custody and such properly once the direct danger to life is over." She turned to an officer out of the field of view, and nodded in acknowledgement of a report. "We have them. Prisoners are in the Brig, anyone with a Starfleet badge on them is in my transporter room. Wilkan, shall I send them straight over to you? As for the crystals, my science officer is establishing a transport lock on them now, but she estimates it will take around thirty seconds to compensate for the temporal distortion."

Wilkan gripped the armrests of his command chair, his knuckles white as the El-Aurian "time sickness" pulsed behind his eyes like a physical hammer. The room felt like it was tilting, the violet light of the Bridge bleeding into the edges of his vision. Every word from the Romulan Commander felt like a serrated edge against his heightened senses. He reached down to the controls built into the right armrest of his chair, his fingers moving with a frantic, rhythmic precision as he typed on the keypad of his command station.

"Subadmiral, negative on the transport of the crystals," Wilkan struggled, his voice strained but holding its iron authority. "You are being tracked by the Shenzhou's tactical suite. If you pull those artifacts into your hold, Deix will use it as a pretext to open fire on a Romulan vessel in Federation space. I won't have your ship or my crew used as a pretext."

Suddenly, the image of Admiral Deix on the split-screen expanded, his face contorting with bureaucratic rage.

"Enough of this shadow-play, Wilkan!" Deix’s voice boomed. "I am not negotiating with a Romulan privateer or a mutinous Commodore. Those crystals belong to the Khitomer signatories. You will stand down your transport lock and allow the Shenzhou to secure the artifacts. If you interfere with the recovery of those weapons, I will authorize a full tactical spread. Return the crystals to me. Now!"

Wilkan didn't look at the screen. He kept his eyes on the tactical overlay blinking on his armrest. He saw the Shenzhou’s phaser arrays hitting 100% charge. He saw the Romulans posturing. He saw the future narrowing down to a single, catastrophic point.

"I’m sorry, Astran," Wilkan whispered, the sound barely audible over the groaning of the ship. "But you’re wrong. These are too great a weapon for anyone to try to contain. I will not leave a match in this room for you or anyone to strike, Astran." He looked up, his eyes locking onto Commander Bishop at Tactical. The sickness was a roar in his ears now, but his intent was crystal clear, "Bishop! Target the crystals in the Cargo Bay. Forward Phaser banks. Full yield. Burn them out of existence."

The Bridge went silent for a heartbeat, save for the hum of the reactive armor deploying.

"Sir?" Bishop hesitated, his hands hovering over the firing studs. "The energy release... the temporal feedback could..."

"I know what it will do, Commander!" Wilkan barked, a flash of Targaryen fire breaking through the nausea. "I will not let the Khitomer Accords, or anyone else, play God with the past. If we can't secure them then nobody gets them. FIRE!"

The Enterprise shuddered as a massive, concentrated beam of orange light lanced out from the forward saucer. It didn't hit the Qel'Poh; it punched straight through the mangled pylon of DS9 toward the cargo sled and the crystals within. A blinding flash of light erupted on the viewscreen. As the phasers connected, the screaming in Wilkan’s marrow stopped instantly. The world stopped tilting, leaving him with a cold, hollow clarity.

"Direct hit," Bishop reported, his voice shaking. "The crystals... they're gone."

Wilkan slumped back into his chair, the sickness finally receding as the source of the distortion vanished, replaced by the grim reality of a Bridge now being targeted by a very angry Federation Admiral. The Commodore turned, looking at Galatea at the Communications Station.

"Commander," he called out, "transmit the full record of Admiral Deix's actions directly to the Office of the Commander in Chief of Starfleet. Use my priority channel."

"Aye," the hologram responded.

On the viewscreen, the blinding violet flare of the crystals' destruction faded, leaving a jagged, molten hole in the station's pylon. The temporal distortion that had been clawing at Wilkan’s mind snapped like a tether, leaving a ringing silence on the Bridge.

Then, Astran Deix moved. The Admiral didn't scream. He didn't erupt. Instead, he became a statue of frozen, absolute fury. On the split-screen, his eyes narrowed into slits as he watched the chronometric sensor readings on his own console flatline. Wilkan had just incinerated the most valuable, and dangerous, strategic assets in the sector.

"You fool," Deix whispered, the low rasp of his voice carrying more threat than a shout ever could. "You didn't just burn the crystals, Wilkan. You burned the only thing keeping the High Council and the Romulan Senate from declaring this a violation of the Accords. You've left me with a pile of scrap metal and an empty hand." Deix stepped forward, his image looming large. "You think a priority burst to your father is going to save you? You think the Commander-in-Chief is going to look at this wreckage, this mutiny, and see anything other than a son who has finally outrun his own arrogance?"

He turned his head slightly toward his own Tactical officer. "Maintain target lock on the Enterprise. If they so much as prime a thruster to leave this system, disable their Warp Drive."

Returning his gaze to Wilkan, Deix’s face hardened into a mask of professional execution. "Your father is a man of the law, Commodore. When he sees the data, he won't see a hero. He’ll see a liability that needs to be excised for the safety of the Federation. He won't just court-martial you, Wilkan; he'll erase the embarrassment of your command from history!"

"Galatea," the Admiral continued, his voice echoing on the Enterprise Bridge as if he were already standing there. "I am overriding the Enterprise’s command encryption under Starfleet Emergency Protocol 6-Alpha. This vessel is now under the direct command of the Shenzhou until such time as a security detail can board and relieve Commodore Targaryen of duty."

He leaned in, his eyes cold. "You wanted to send a message to the C-in-C? Consider it delivered. I'll be the one to hand him your pips personally."

The viewscreen flickered as Deix cut the transmission, leaving the image of the Shenzhou hanging in the void like a predatory bird, its phaser banks still glowing a dull, threatening red.

Wilkan sat in the silence of his Bridge, the weight of his family name and his rank suddenly feeling like lead. He looked toward the Communications station.

"Galatea," Wilkan said quietly. "Did the transmission go through?"

"The priority burst reached Starfleet Command three seconds before the Admiral initiated the override, Sir," the AI responded, her voice devoid of its usual rasp, sounding almost somber. "The Commander-in-Chief has received the packet. Response is pending. Sir, The Admiral is utilizing a high-level Command Bypass. I am shifting my core heuristics to the secondary lattice to maintain life support and SIF, but he has locked out the tactical grid."

Wilkan rose from the center seat. The "time sickness" was gone, replaced by the heavy, familiar weight of reality. He smoothed the front of his tunic, his expression unreadable. "The Admiral is right about one thing," Wilkan said, his voice carrying to every station. "The law is a weapon. But so is the truth. Galatea, "don't fight them anymore, but ensure that priority burst is mirrored to the DTI archive. If my father wants my pips, he’ll have to come through a forest of redacted transcripts to get them."

He turned to Ash. "Engineer, you have the Bridge. Keep the shields at maximum dispersal. If the Shenzhou so much as twitches, dump the warp core's waste heat into their sensor array. I’ll be in my Ready Room awaiting the Commander-in-Chief’s reply."

Ash quietly replied as the Commodore disappeared into the corridor, "Aye Sir."

Urvasi patiently waited at her station performing station keeping to keep the Enterprise exactly where she was in relation to the space station. The time crystals were gone, the crew rescued, the Klingons caught, and Opra was either with crew or with the Klingons, but safe. To her, this seemed like a success. Things were replaceable, people were not.

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