Shadow Operations: Resurrection
Season 2 Episode 1
Settling In
Jan. 13, 2019

Mayla stood passively on the bridge looking at the Vigilant class escort. She’d seen one before, but not with this configuration. Her subvocal controller buzzed lightly notifying her a change in her duty status. She pulled out a padd and activated the screen to project the data to her eyes’ data lens. Her new clearance access to the specifications of their new ship appeared in the air in front of her as she mentally scrolled through the schematics and the new equipment that was unique to this ship. She looked over to the Admiral and gave him a nod of acknowledgement before walking back to the turbolift. She ordered the lift to take her to the shuttlebay on Deck 9. She wanted to take a look at the Talon class fighter. Just as the doors were about to close, a voice yelled out to her.

Commander Vree? Daryl said, almost awkwardly.

Mayla pushed the button to reopen the door to let him in. When the doors did close and the lift started moving, he fidgeted slightly in his stance.

Lieutenant? She asked, noticing his discomfort.

The last time he saw her she was 8 years old. Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate. He knew of the eight-year-old Mayla Vree at the time. But the last time he saw Commander Mayla Vree was when he had died on his last Bravo Squad mission to Paris, France on Earth. Only because of the advanced medical tech she brought with her from the future that he was standing here today. He owed her his life. But what kind of life had it been since then? For him, it was his past. For her, it hasn’t happened yet for another few years.

I just wanted to talk with you, he paused for a moment as his memory of her came back to him clearly now. She looked almost exactly like the last time he saw her. It suddenly caused him to be unsure of what he was going to say. About who I am.

This caused Mayla’s manner to turn stern as she folded her arms across her chest and took a stance. Okay, tell me who you are. Because I already know the Daryl Thompson who tried to destroy the USS Revenant, attempted to kill my father and godmother, abandoned Bravo Squad, filed a falsified report to Admiral Sorvek claiming the Revenant was destroyed along with all hands, joined Section 31 after they broke him out of prison, infiltrated Shadow Ops HQ and cold heartedly assassinated a Starfleet captain by completely melting her head with acid, starting with her face.

The list was long and it made him wince inside. He had just recently read his doppelganger’s file and was ashamed that any part of him would perform any of those acts. That wasn’t me and you know it.

Mayla’s face softened along with her tone of voice. I know that wasn’t you. That was a clone of you that Kyril had missed when he destroyed everyone else’s clone at that facility. I know about Paris, and that was a long time ago for you. Alot has happened since then. She put a hand on his shoulder. So, Daryl, tell me who you are.

Daryl was taken aback by her maturity and depth of what she said. He was 16 years her senior, but she sounded much older than her current 28 years. In fact, she sounded just like her father. He could almost hear him say the very same words to him under the same circumstance. Twenty years seemed to have really grown on her beyond the years she’s actually lived. He remembered when they first met on that fateful mission to infiltrate the Federation Council Building. At that time, she was HIS senior in age and rank. Now seeing her again, she was again senior to him, if only in rank. Fate had a twisted sense of humor for this universe.

Daryl needed a few moments to arrange his thoughts. He cleared his throat and looked at his superior. I am...I have changed...Those years at the mining colony took their toll. Daryl struggled to keep his emotions under control. After these years, and even after intense mental training and therapy, it was still hard to talk about all what happened.

It was hell there. We had to work in endless shifts. 16 hours of work a day, 8 hours of sleep. Day in, day out. We barely got proper food and if you got ill, you were simply left behind in the tunnels deep under the surface or simply killed by on of the guards. We were tortured, just for the fun of it. More than once, the installations broke down and we couldn’t get back to the surface. We suffered from the intense heat, the lack of oxygen and toxic gases. There were many riots, but they were suppressed quickly with heavy weaponry. More than once, the whole place was covered in blood. I’ve seen so many people dying in there. So much pain and agony It’s a miracle I survived that long. Daryl almost whispered. With the images, the emotions raged through him. Anger, Fear. Hopelessness. He closed his eyes for a moment. He felt the emotions subside to a level he could cope with, as the neural chip, implanted in his brain, released synthetic neurotransmitters.

Mayla looked at him. Are you ok? she asked. Daryl nodded, mustering himself and continued.

When I eventually returned home, I collapsed. I suffered from PTSD, obviously. I had mental training, therapy, and about a dozen of Vulcan mind melds. In the end, they placed a neural chip in my brain, to keep my emotions in check. It releases neurotransmitters in my brain to ease the emotions. I am still doing mental exercises every day and I have special programs which I run through with an EMH to rearrange these experiences to give them a place in my life.

Daryl sighed again. What I want to say is...since I got back, I haven’t been on any field missions. So I don’t know how I would react under pressure and with lives at stake. I just think you ought to know that. I don’t want to create any situation where the team is endangered because I collapsed. Daryl looked at Mayla, almost pleading with his eyes to understand where he was coming from.

Of course, Mayla saw it. Her lifetimes of experience can read what the eyes can only tell. I’m sorry you had to endure all that you have. I’ve been where you’ve been. If you remember, Bravo Squad rescued me from the Dominion forced labor camp-Purgatory. And I was almost eight years old at the time. She took a deep breath and let it out. It was a long time ago, and she’d long since have learnt to deal with the pain of what she saw at that young age. She still remembered vividly the images of her parents’ death. I don’t know how much you remember from that mission, but prior to my rescue, my parents were tortured to death in front of me. It made me catatonic, unable to speak to anyone to save my life, or my soul. It took me more than eight months for me to speak again, and that was only because of the love and support I received from my newly adopted parents, Kyril and Linsayla.

Daryl looked at his feet, feeling a bit more remorseful. I’m sorry about Linsayla and Nilani.

Mayla gave him a look of appreciation. It was a long time ago, and it was an accident. My point is, regardless of how old you are, it could still take a village of experiences to help put away the demons and nightmares. The mental disciplines can sometimes only block that which you remember. But our emotions built upon those memories will always be there. It’s like walking into your grandmother’s bedroom, not remembering the bedroom itself, but suddenly you smell the perfume she used to wear, and the memories and emotions come back. Or like walking into your empty childhood home and suddenly smelling the food your parents used to make. It takes time to settle the demons in our own minds.

Daryl nodded, understanding most of what she was saying. I just don’t want to let the team down or get somebody killed because I froze.

Mayla gave him a reassuring nod. Well, you did well enough in sim today. How about I give you some of Bravo Squad’s old holosims Kyril used to run. I’ll ask Jahkar to evaluate your outcomes, and we’ll work together to get you back on your feet. I suggest you start as soon as you can muster up the strength to. I don’t know what Admiral MacLeod has in store for us, but we have to be ready. YOU need to be ready for whatever he throws at us. And today, you showed some courage and duty.

Daryl nodded again, unsure of what his reaction was going to be going into real combat again. Well, he would find out soon enough. He felt reluctant though, as the only training he did was surviving and working. He did learn a few new tricks and techniques along the way. They would come in handy in the coming missions. He decided that it was time to shake off the unsureness and doubts. MacLeod had chosen him above dozen others. And so he had to be in good shape. Also, he would try hard to undo the unbelievably bad things the clone had done.

I will do better than my best, Daryl said firmly looking at Mayla. I won’t disappoint any of you. Daryl sighed. Something else was on his mind. Mayla noticed it, once more. She was usually very astute.

Something else bothering you, Daryl?

Daryl nodded. I am wondering what happened to the old members of Bravo Squad. I tried to dig it up, but I couldn’t find any of it. Perhaps you know what happened to them? Daryl looked at her, curious for the answer.

She cocked her head to one side and then shook her head. No, I don’t know what’s become of them after Shadow Ops was shut down. I’ve only been in sparse communications with my father for the past 7 years, and every time I query him the automated return message always said he was on an assignment and is unreachable.

Daryl nodded Same here. I haven’t got any reply from him. Not even the automated messages...nor from any other team member. Seems like they just vanished He folded his arms across his chest. For some reason I think I am privileged to know what happened to them. I know that’s purely based on emotions, but still. I contacted Admiral Sorvek a few times, but he didn’t tell either. Maybe Admiral MacLeod can tell me more.

Mayla looked at Thompson. You can try. But don’t hold your breath. She answered. If they won’t even tell me where my own father is, your chances are probably even less of finding out where they are. Better to focus on the here and now, rather than a past you didn’t live.

T’Aayla focused on controlling her facial reactions as she viewed the specifications for the Resurrection. It was possibly the closest ship to a Rihansuu war vessel that the Federation had produced.

She’d spent the past ten years fighting on, and commanding cloaked vessels in the Rihansuu fleet, and before that she’d spent years on the USS Fearless which had possessed one of the first of the Federation’s phased cloaking devices. She would definitely feel at home on that vessel. From it’s lack of weak and soft Federation amenities, to it’s likely maneuverability, to it’s sleek design lines, she itched to get behind the controls and see just what the vessel could do. Back on Ch’Rihan, she’d been called the Shadow Hawk for her piloting abilities and skill in fighting with a cloaked vessel. She allowed herself to experience a warm memory from her time there, where she had spent time with her captor, who had turned into her mentor, and ultimately a foster father figure.

T’Aayla snapped back to the present, quickly checking to see if anyone had noticed her momentary distraction. The people she now worked with had no clue as to what she had been through the past ten years, neither the agony, nor the redemption... Only MacLeod had any inkling, and that, only superficial. Her story was complicated, and she fought the ever-present raging and conflicting emotions within her. She nodded to herself, yes... yes, this ship was worthy of her, perhaps not as overpowered for its size and maneuverable as her late benefactor, Senator Raillius’ personal shuttle had been, but this ship was also larger, more powerful. It would be a worthy ship. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on it.

Ryramorl saw the flash of a smile on T’Aayla’s face and almost thought he recognized it from somewhere. When she said she’d been on Fearless ten years ago under a Gorn Captain Sortha, it nagged his mind, and he looked closely at her. She looked familiar. Moreover, she acted earlier as if she’d met Ryramorl before, though Ryramorl knew full well he’d never served under a Romulan. And then there was the question of her scent--she didn’t quite smell Romulan either, but had a whiff of something else, like some of the Human/Vulcan hybrids he’d met.

After the others had left, Commander Raillius came up to the big Carnora. Is there an issue, Lieutenant? she asked, coolly.

Ryramorl took a deep breath, taking in the Romulan’s scent. Now that she stood near, with few others close by, he could tell that, yes, there was something familiar there. He looked carefully over her face, taking in her features, imagining if they’d been altered (as some on his homeworld were wont to do if they made an Oath of the Dead yet survived). He decided to gamble everything and said politely, Forgive me, Commander Jamie Marcus. I did not recognize your scent.

At first it looked as if the Romulan woman had turned into a Vulcan, her face went so emotionless, and Ryramorl wondered if it was perhaps going to be a very long cruise indeed, but after several seconds she smiled. It is good to see an old team mate again, she reached out and grasped his paw firmly, but Jamie Marcus died ten years ago, at least for all intents and purposes. She died in the Hermes belt in a battle because the Federation acted as cowards. He saw the intensity in her eyes even if her face betrayed little emotion, and her scent appeared agitated. We should discuss it over several bottles of Rihan kheh’irho. Now her eyes narrowed and a slight grin appeared If you’re up for it.

Ah, said Ryramorl in complete understanding, gripping her hand in return. I have seen it amongst my own, that those who have been through a great trial would declare themselves dead, and become as a new person. Amongst his people, it usually took a special ceremony, but sometimes that was skipped if a person had been missing a long time. I’ll be careful not to call you Marcus, then. Amongst my people, using a Dead Name is very disrespectful. And I’ll have to double-check what effects Rihan kheh’irho would have on me. It could be as strange as those Ronjaro juice seems to have on humans, he replied, a slightly sour look on his face. The Federation claims it’s a narcotic, my people KNOW it’s a delicacy.

Before she left, Ryramorl gave her a wicked grin. Commander--if anyone else refers to you by your Dead Name, I could demonstrate how to send someone through three different doors simultaneously, if you wish. Carnoras. Always demonstrating their ferocity--as if they had to.

That probably won’t be necessary, she acknowledged with an enigmatic smile, then leaned in closer, However, there might come a time when I may ask that of you. Starfleet has rules, and sometimes those rules get in the way of accomplishing the mission. She slapped him in the chest with a surprising amount of force for a small humanoid, I am heartened by having a strong and dependable warrior by my side.

Ryramorl didn’t even flinch at the force of the blow, though a slight twitch in his whiskers let her know that he definitely felt it. I hope to honour my people and my OverKing in my service to you, he said formally.

Of that I have no doubt.

She walked away from the exchange with the huge Carnora with mixed emotions. It was good having a team-mate that she had worked with before, but it brought complications. Hell, she lived in a world of complications. She shouldn’t even be here, she should be laying low. If it became known in the Empire that the now somewhat famous and heroic T’Aayla Praiin Raillius was formerly Jamie T. Marcus, there would be some fallout, perhaps serious if not handled correctly. She’d have to start engineering a plan for that eventuality. Senator Raillius had always taught her to plan for every eventuality, to be meticulous in preparation, and to execute flawlessly when the time came. Such was the way of true Rihansuu. She’d have to watch her actions, not only in light of the Federation, but also in terms of any effect it would have on her family on ch’Rihan. Her plan would use aiki-jujitsu on her family’s opponents to turn her former human status into a plus. Certainly, the transformation that the Senator had accomplished in her was something that could be spun to advantage.

Back on the Fearless, Jamie Marcus hadn’t been particularly close to the big Carnora, as they had only served together a relatively short time, and she remembered as having found his ways somewhat odd. But now, the fact that they both represented two very distinct alien cultures to the Federation enabled her to appreciate him more. She was different now. She was not of the standard human-dominated Federation. Like Ryramorl, she was a bit on the outside. Her new perspective allowed her to see him in a different light. Was that what her mentor had seen in her back on ch’Rihan all those years ago? The ability to learn a new perspective through her eyes? She enjoyed a spark of enlightenment. The ability to see actions through the lens of two cultures had benefited her and continued to benefit her, allowing her to see things she wouldn’t have been able to see before. It was... satisfying. She wondered if that was what the Senator enjoyed every time he made a breakthrough with her. She forced herself to stop being so analytical and smiled to herself- yes Senator Raillius had been all that, calculating, a master of strategy, insightful, but deep down... she smiled, he saw her as the daughter he would have had, if his hadn’t been killed. She allowed the warm glow of that thought to suffuse her body, as she walked through the cold and gray base that was to be their home.

After his talk with Commander Raillius, Ryramorl went back to gather his equipment. He had decided not to repaint his battle armour in Federation Colours--anyone who knew anything of the Carnora Pentarchy--or the Carnora Republic that came before it--would recognize the symbols and know to fear them. Anyone who didn’t know them would see his predatory tusks, sharp claws, and know to fear THOSE.

He felt a rumble and heard an announcement: We have completed docking procedures. Crewmembers are now free to disembark. He got ready to disembark, but before he did, he put in a suggestion that Reepchip be given the same quarters as Ryramorl--Muran tended to be so social that having their own room was alien to them.

Once off the Fearless, he looked around for a terminal that might have directions to their quarters on base.

Mayla walked into the shuttle bay and stood in front of the ship Preet had brought on board with her. She admired the lines and design of the Talon class fighter, and briefly wondered why the Admiral brought it on board along with Lieutenant Commander Preet. But in light of the recent holosim, she was able to see nearly firsthand what this ship was capable of.

Commander Vree?

Mayla turned to see Preet walk in behind her with a large padd in her hand. The other woman was about her height with dark hair cut in an unusual, short style. It was long on top with shaved sides. She could tell it would cover her eyes when it wasn’t slicked back. She gave her a nod of acknowledgement. Lieutenant Commander. You did well in the holosim today.

Thank you, ma’am. You did some fancy flying yourself.

Mayla just waved a hand as if brushing off the complement. I did what I had to do for us to survive. Assuming it was real, that is.

Vala didn’t expect a coldness to the response. But after what happened during the battle with the warbirds when they didn’t know it was a holosim, she couldn’t help but speculate as to the true abilities of her new CO. I was wondering if you are related to the Commander Kyril Vree who developed the Defiant Kolvoord Maneuver?

Mayla gave her a smile and turned away, back to looking at the ship. Yes, that would be my father. And the last I heard he’s a rear admiral now. His experience from a prior host who was a test pilot gave him excellent experience, ability, and intuition to develop new ways to fly a starship.

Vala shook her head. Ma’am, with all due respect, that is an understatement. He wrote a new book on dogfighting with something as big as a starship. And with the newest generation of impulse cluster drives coming out, dogfighting won’t just be for single pilot fighters anymore. Larger starships could have the agility and speed of a single pilot fighter. Vala would have salivated over the idea of dogfighting with a Sovereign class starship if she had not just seen it in action in the recent holosim. It would have killed her to have been behind her CO to watch her perform the maneuvers she did. To be able to fly something so large but just as maneuverable as the Talon class fighter was something dreams were made of.

Mayla shook her head slowly. They will never replace single pilot fighters. Do you know why?

Vala slowly shook her head.

It boils down to logistics. In a dogfight, it’s cheaper to lose one fighter and one pilot than losing an entire starship and its crew.

That response put an immediate damper on the conversation.

Fodder. Vala spat. That was Starfleet’s way during major battles. Send in swarms of heavily weaponized smaller ships while letting the bigger class starships move in the outer parameters of the battle until victory was near certain then the larger ships would move in and wipe the field clean of enemy ships. If victory wasn’t in the cards, the fighters would return to base or be left behind while the larger ships jumped to warp. It wasn’t something that a fighter pilot liked to talk about, but it was something that she insisted her students understand. You could be sacrificed for the greater good.

Sometimes. Mayla said. It’s also easier to send a single fighter to perform a highly dangerous surgical task than it is to send an entire starship. But it does surprise other ships not expecting a starship to suddenly perform like an agile attacking fighter.

Vala laughed at the notion. Then the pressing question came to her forefront after seeing what her young CO was able to do with the Fearless during the holosim. You apparently inherited your father’s piloting skills. She had thought her role on the team was to be the pilot? But with someone already present with skills that probably surpassed her own, had she just made an assumption?

The Trill commander held a tight lip, but gave a hint about it. I have some experience with it. Not to the degree as my father though. He’s had...more extensive experience with different types of propulsion and methods of dogfighting. She kept out the exact degree of experience.

Vala let out a breath. The things he could do with a Defiant or Sao Paulo class ship- she paused as if in disbelief. He performed the Kolvoord Starburst with five Defiant class starships! For most of us, that’s dangerous to do in a fighter. That’s why it’s banned from any flight plan. It’s not even something we can teach at the Academy. But he did it with four other pilots, which to this day is still classified. She looked at Mayla with a sideways glance. The other woman would have been young, but she was young to be a full commander and leader of an SO team. Who knew her true skills? And after this last sim with the warbirds, I was just wondering if you—

—might have been one of those pilots? Mayla now looked at Vala. Sorry to dash your hopes. But no, I wasn’t one of those pilots. And if I was, I wouldn’t be allowed to tell you anyway. The pilots were classified and sworn to secrecy. Mayla changed the subject as she slowly walked around inspecting the ship. Vala matched her steps. So what made you change your mind about teaching?

I take it you haven’t had time yet to fully study my bio. Vala smiled as Mayla pointed out a few bells and whistles on the new ship. She was going be Vala’s pride and joy. Fresh off the assembly line without any previous pilot’s quirks programed in. I did six week class rotations with another Starfleet Intelligence pilot. We would switch off flying special ops teams around the quadrant for missions. Sometimes, we would participate in them, especially if there was a ground or atmospheric vehicle included. It’s been a while since my Shadow Ops days, but I kept the rust off over the years.

You missed being in the field. Mayla could understand that sentiment. She’d been working behind the scenes and in the field for Starfleet Intelligence ever since she was a teenager. But the few years she was solo, the isolation from working in a team didn’t bother her. It was in her genes to be able to adapt to work in any type of environment.

Vala opened the rear hatch and waved Mayla in front of her. To be honest, I miss being a true part of a team. I have flown almost all of the SI teams that weren’t permanently stationed to a ship at one point and time. I flew some more than others, but I was still an outsider.

Mayla nodded. Bus driver, she said, using an ancient Earth term she learned from a former Bravo Squad member, Lieutenant Commander Antonia Reece, someone who had a great interest for late 20th century vernacular. Drivers are just as important to the function of a team as any team member, regardless of how little they do. The lives of everyone in the team rely on those pilots to infiltrate and extract them safely and quickly. The pilots help bring everyone home alive. Don’t ever think you are never needed.

Mayla gave her a smile as Vala continued to show off the ship. The other Trill woman was somewhat excitable. Her appreciation for the ship was present in her voice and demeanor. She was already a little possessive of it despite only controlling the ship from Earth to the Fearless. Mayla could already tell it was going to be difficult to separate Vala from the fighter. Though she would be assigned as the main pilot, everyone needed to be familiar with how to fly the ship in the event Vala was wounded or worse.

Preet. I don’t recognize that name.

Oh, you shouldn’t. I’m not joined. My family hasn’t qualified for the symbiont programs for ages. We’ve been farmers and botanist for generations. I’m the first in Starfleet. Vala put the padd down on the small debriefing table that took up the middle space in the fighter’s passenger bay. She sat in one of the seats that ringed the room. Really, I’m the first to go off world. My family is very tied to the planet, but I always dreamed of the stars. I couldn’t wait to turn 18 and qualify for the Academy.

Mayla joined her in a seat across the room. She wondered what it would have been like to dream of Starfleet as a young girl. But from an early age, she already saw the need for someone with her skills, abilities, and aptitude. Not many people knew her true nature and abilities, but enough people knew enough that Starfleet classified and controlled those like herself. Unlike Vala, she’d didn’t have much choice in the matter. I grew up on starbases before leaving for the Academy. I understand wanting to go out and see what’s out there in the vast expanse of space.

Vala grinned at the other Trill woman. It wasn’t often that she encountered someone from her own race. Trills were just beginning to span out across the galaxy after hundreds of years in solitude hiding their symbionts from other races. Those who were un-joined would more readily go off world, but those who were paired would stay closer to home. It was safer for the symbiont. Have you ever thought about becoming joined, like your father?

Mayla shook her head. No. Even though there is a sense of nobility and stature in the act, I already have enough going on in my head than to have to deal with lifetimes’ worth of other people’s memories. She said it with a straight face that was well practiced over the years.

There was a rumble felt through their feet. An announcement came over the comm systems. We have completed docking procedures. Crewmembers are now free to disembark.

I’m going over and take a look at the Resurrection, Mayla said, waiting to see if Vala wanted to join her.

Vala shook her head. I have to prep the fighter to be transfer over there. She gave her CO a smile and a nod, already deducing her hands to be itching to scope out their new ship. You go ahead and...have some fun?

Mayla chuckled. As if you’re also not biting at the bit to get your hands on her too. Thank you for the tour. I’ll see you on the base.

Reepchip Charatetet had two thoughts upon seeing the USS Resurrection. One was that old Muran instinct of .o0(where are the blueprints for this thing, and how can I tinker with it?) The second was a saying he’d heard from many an Ataran sailors: .o0(Where, by the Demons of the Deep, have the winds blown me now?!)--or at least that’s how he’d say it aloud. If he used the actual terms an Ataran would likely use in such unlikely circumstances, it would take him a good few minutes to get through all the profanity and much, MUCH longer to explain the words and phrases to his superiors.

He still wasn’t sure what he was doing here; he had neither pissed off Overking Rissa (that he knew of) nor done anything of great merit. And yet the Muran Overking had sent him here, and Admiral MacLeod hadn’t sent him back.

The King of Heaven commands the Dance of the Skies, he firmly reminded himself. All that happens is by His will.

After he disembarked the Fearless, Reepchip tried to calm himself. He carried with him his pack with his possessions. When he found the mess hall and seeing nobody in it, He took the opportunity to do something he hadn’t done since departing from Watchtower 680: he would meditate. He dug into his pack and pulled out a small, six-stringed instrument. He tuned the strings against each other, and took a deep breath, then started plucking the strings in a specific yet changing order. Each string was named with a syllable of the King of Heaven’s true name, and he chanted those syllables when he plucked its string. And if he was not interrupted, he would go through every one of the 720 iterations and speak the King of Heaven’s full name.

Mayla stepped on board the Vigilant class starship alone after going through several security checkpoints and authorizations. The first thing she did was to look at the differences between this ship and an old Sao Paulo class ship. She had spent time on the Intruder-A when she was with Bravo Squad, and to be back on a ship modeled similarly to it brought back those memories of her father and his team in her early days assigned to to the elite platoon. In fact, she had been rescued from the Cardassian forced labor camp on the Intruder 20 years ago.

There were various crew members walking about who acknowledged her, not because they knew who she was, but of her rank insignia on her uniform. No one on this ship should know who she was. She had been working covertly for so long the circle of people knowing who she was remained a very small radius. The layout of the ship was very similar to the Intruder-A, so she easily found her way to Engineering to look at the new coaxial drive. Over a dozen engineers were working in the small engineering space and she stayed on the gantry above and out of the way. She studied the new drive with the specs hovering seemingly in the air in her eyes as she read the specs and functional parameters of the prototype drive. She briefly wondered if any of the drive’s tech came from Linea technology who had already perfected instantaneous translocation to anywhere in the universe.

You still can’t resist getting the lay of the land first. A deep gruff voice said slowly behind her. She turned around and saw a tall bald man in a red uniform with a captain’s insignia. Looking at his face he looked vaguely familiar. Well, the left side of his face was familiar.

Captain Lazarus? She said, noticing the right side of his face was missing the metal appendage covering she had always associated him with. It had been replaced with what looked like the other flesh side of his face. All of his prosthetics had been replaced.

It’s good to see you, youngster, Captain Quentin Lazarus said, using Kyril’s nickname for her. He had started calling her that occasionally after she graduated from the Academy and assigned to Bravo Squad’s platoon as leader of Echo Team.

Mayla stepped forward and gave Lazarus an awkward hug. It is good to see you too. She tapped the right side of her face. That looks good. It’s the first time you don’t look like a rust bucket.

Lazarus harumphed at the joke that carried over from Bravo Squad’s experience with the Quentin Lazarus of the Mirror Universe.

Mayla smiled at the gruff response and changed the subject. What are you doing here? Are you in command of this ship?

He gave her a nod and the gruffness turned into a smile that usually came so rare for him. What do you think of her?

Until I sit at the helm and take her for a spin, I can’t answer that, Mayla gave him the same pleasant smile reminiscent of when he used to scold her in reminder that she had to ’act’ like a ten-year-old, when she was ten years old. Do you think there’s any Linea tech in that thing?

Lazarus shook his head. Your guess is probably better than mine. I’ve reviewed the dossiers of your new team. What are your impressions of them?

We went through our first holosim. They should be satisfactory. They’re not all raw recruits.

I’ve watched the sim. The Admiral sent it to me to give him my initial evaluation of the team. Having Jahkar, Ra’yral, and Thompson in the team again brings back a lot of old memories.

Good and bad, Mayla said, remembering back when she trained under Jahkar’s intense holosim training he created for Bravo Squad.

And you have a Romulan XO, Lazarus said carefully.

It is out of the ordinary, but it’s not like we never had a Romulan in the Teams before, Mayla said. Even though most didn’t turn out so well.

It only takes one to break the stereotype, Lazarus said sternly. Although Tal’Aura was born and raised in the Federation. She was only half Romulan.

Mayla nodded, thinking back to the now Captain Sienae Tal’Aura, CO of the then Shadow Ops’ USS Soulseeker team before its dissolution. We’ll eventually find out what Railius is about, she said confidently.

He watched her stance and took note that she still acted so much like her adopted father. Just like a decade earlier when she spoke to him, it was as if Kyril Vree was speaking to him. It’s good to see you’ve continued to follow in your father’s footsteps.

I guess there wasn’t any doubt in the matter. Kyril’s family were my only family. After Lin and Nilani died, Tylin was sent to Trill to be raised by his grandmother. It was hard on him to lose his mother and sister, and then separated from his best friend Zac. I think he’s still bitter about that, even though they still keep in touch. And then there’s Kyril, who went into recluse ever since Shadow Ops dissolved. She let out a light sigh. Starfleet is my family now.

Lazarus nodded, remembering the dark pall that befell her father when his wife and young daughter died in the accident. The demeanor of Bravo Squad changed after that unfortunate event. How is your father? I heard he’s an admiral?

Yes, sir. A rear admiral, I believe. But I haven’t heard from him in quite a few years. Mayla hid her sadness and a bit of disappointment, turning her attention back to the coaxial drive. I don’t even know where he’s stationed at. Starfleet Intelligence won’t tell me.

Lazarus nodded with understanding. He himself had tried to reach out to him a few times over the years, and also haven’t received any response. Any query always returned the same response; that he was on assignment and unable to respond. It was the same response from Admiral Sorvek too.

What about your sibkins? Your Echo Team?

They are doing well. But they were not...imbued with those types of nurturing experiences. It’s difficult for some of them to become emotionally dependent on other people. They are operatives deep to their cores. Their engram programming from the Linea only gave them the warrior’s experiences, souls, and abilities; not the spirit of a poet, or a lover. Or even a sibling.

Lazarus gave her a sad laugh, thinking back to her unique history. The only reason Mayla didn’t turn out like her sibkins was because unlike them, she had originally been programmed with memory engrams from the trill symbiote Vree in an emergency procedure. But soon after, she had been kidnapped from her home on Starbase Epsilon Seven to complete her engram programming with those of the highest skilled and honored Linea warriors-a human civilization who evolved separately in a different galaxy a millennia earlier. In an attempt to rescue her, Bravo Squad was captured and Kyril’s memories were programmed into her to reveal sensitive information about Shadow Operations. When the situation became dire, it was Mayla herself who betrayed the Linea and saved Bravo Squad from further torture and death.

All those experiences, memories, and abilities of Vree, her father, and past warriors of the Linea became a permanent part of her very being ever since she was eight years old. Her true nature is still kept highly classified and will probably be like that for the rest of her life. Only he, her father, Sorvek, and three members of Bravo Squad knew about all of her acquired abilities and origins. Thinking in hindsight now, a highly skilled eight-year-old Shadow operative would have been interesting to deploy.

In a rare display of emotion, he put a hand, his real hand, on her shoulder. He felt sympathy for the young woman whose life has been locked into covert operations through her genetics and abilities. Was that all she was going to be in life based on the potential of all of her abilities, memories, and experiences?

All the same, he was glad to have a Commander Vree under his command again. She was one of the few persons in this universe he fully trusted.

Jahkar left Fearless with his bag slung over his shoulder. So they had been assigned to home base on a mining asteroid? The Klingon-Romulan smirked as he pondered their accommodations. He remembered when Shadow Ops was based on space stations or larger vessels like the Fearless, or Ticonderoga.

However, to maintain a low profile, placing them in an old mining asteroid was the perfect way to stay under everyone’s radar. From what he’d seen of the Resurrection, he was impressed. It would likely be superior to the previous escort vessels Shadow Ops had employed.

As he walked from the umbilical connected to Fearless and found himself in the mining facility, he noted the walls of the corridor were older durasteel construction. The walls were stained with age and industrial use, but they would suffice.

Before he got too far, he heard someone approaching from behind him. He looked back over his shoulder and saw Admiral Ian MacLeod approaching.

Hold up, I was starting to think you were avoiding me, MacLeod said.

I’m sorry, sir, Jahkar replied. It is good to see you again.

MacLeod stepped up to the burly Klingon-Romulan and shook his hand. Hell, Jahkar, we are almost family.

The marine smiled, I know. I just didn’t want to give that appearance to the others. How is Chas’naH?

She’s...well...Chas’naH, MacLeod smiled. She’s serving with the diplomatic corps in the Klingon Empire., which I’m sure you knew.

Jahkar nodded, She indicated that the last time we spoke. Which has been about five years ago.

You two, I don’t understand why you both couldn’t stop being stubborn and just stay together, MacLeod shook his head. Both of you and your damn careers.

She did not want to live on Earth with me while I wasted my talents training new marines, he said, looking down. And I did not want to go to the Empire where I would be looked down upon by the other Klingons.

You’re both hybrids, MacLeod countered. You think it’s easy for her being half-human and living on Qo’noS?

No, Jahkar said. But to be half Romulan is....something else.

MacLeod sighed, I know. Bloody hell. Well, for what it’s worth, she asks about you whenever we talk.

Jahkar nodded, So, this reactivation of Shadow Operations. I get the feeling its not a popular decision? When it was shutdown the Federation Council was very specific...they wanted no more clandestine organizations running amok.

MacLeod leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, There’s a great deal of unrest throughout the Federation and among our neighbors. We’ve looked at it, the senior analysts, so forth, and everyone agrees this seems like a coordinated effort.

The unrest here and in the Klingon Empire is connected? Jahkar asked.

And in other governments throughout the quadrant, MacLeod, said. He placed a hand on Jahkar’s shoulder. I’ll say more when I brief you all later tonight. Now go, get settled in and we’ll talk more later.

Jahkar again shook MacLeod’s hand, It is an honor to serve with you again.

He then took his bag and set off for the habitat area.

Tiri had settled into her quarters in the old asteroid mine. She had been assigned a modest room with a bunk, a table and chair, a small desk and a restroom and shower. She wore the pants to her uniform, but had removed the jacket and shirt, leaving her in a gray tank top shirt.

The Andorian sat down at her desk and opened the desktop terminal. She keyed open a channel and within a short time was transmitting a message.

On the screen the face of another Andorian appeared. It was a young male who smiled at her as his face materialized on the viewer.

Tiri, it is good to see you, he said.

Isavos, she smiled back. How are you, little brother?

I am well, all things considered, the young Andorian said.

Is something wrong? Tiri asked, concern crossing her face.

Isavos frowned, Third night of curfew in the city. The Andorian Revolutionary Front has bombed a Starfleet facility here four days ago. Then there was a bombing at a nightclub in the Capital. Andorian security hit back yesterday and took out an ARF cell yesterday, which set off riots last night.

Tiri gritted her teeth. She knew there was unrest on her homeworld, but hearing her brother speak of it, she knew it had worsened.

Curfew? You spend most of your nights having fun with your artist friends, she said. Makes it hard to get out and mingle?

Yes, and right now I need to make those contacts. To network with other artists, Isavos said. I’m what they call a starving artist, sis. I can’t make it in the art world without being out at the clubs, without being able to attend openings and seek those who will exhibit my work.

Tiri leaned in closer to the screen, It’s just until the attacks are over. Be patient little brother.

Isavos sighed, So, how have you been Tiri?

I’m well, she said. Can’t tell you what I’m doing...

...because you’d have to kill me, I know, Isavos laughed. Don’t worry, I don’t want to know.

How’s mother and father? she asked.

Father is away on a haul, said Isavos. His freighter is transporting goods to the occupied Cardassian Union. Mom, she’s spending a lot of time at the university, trying to keep things there in order during the crisis.

Tiri nodded, Good to hear.

You know, mother would probably like to hear from you, he said. It’s been awhile.

The ensign lowered her head, I know...I will...in time.

Don’t wait too long Tiri, Isavos said. Well, I hate to cut you short, but I have a couple friends stopping over, before curfew tonight. I need to get ready.

She smiled, Enjoy. Be careful. Tell mother...tell mother I said hello.

Isavos nodded and then the image faded. Tiri stared at the screen a long time, then finally stood up and put her uniform on before heading out to go over to the Resurrection.

As Reepchip finished his chant, he heard a much deeper voice echoing the syllables behind him, so he was not at all surprised when Ryramorl sat down across from him.

Sir, said Reepchip.

We’ve been assigned our quarters, said Ryramorl. If you’re ready to come.

Reepchip nodded and followed Ryramorl to the habitat area. Ryramorl opened the door, and Reepchip saw at once that the room had been set up for two occupants. The top bunk was over 7’ long, but there’d been some last-minute altering to the room. The desk and terminal took up half the space beneath the bunk; the other half was taken up by a small bedroll.

Ryramorl grinned. I knew you didn’t want to sleep alone, so I arranged to have you bunked with me.

Reepchip breathed easier and bowed to Ryramorl in gratitude.

In a recess Ryramorl hung his clothes, while Reepchip folded up his and lay them on the floor of that recess. The two took turns showering, then put on their loose-fitting uniforms--Ryramorl his old Shadow Ops uniform, Reepchip his brown many-pocketed uniform of a Carnora Fleet Engineer.

Cody was impressed. A new Vigilant class ship. He had heard about it, when he worked for Intel, and read some of the design specs. It was an impressive beast.

He had already offboarded the Fearless and walked through the corridors of the old mining station. He smiled. He felt right at home, as he had spent a significant amount of time on these kind of space stations. When time permitted, he would be interested to take a tour on the station to get to know more about it. But now, he wanted to get to have a peek at the new ship, the USS Resurrection. He arrived at his quarter, and the door opened. He stepped inside, taking a look around. It wasn’t big, but big enough for one person.

Apparently it had been refurbished by Starfleet, as it all looked all new and shiny. On the bed was his new SO uniform, neatly folded. Cody nodded. He felt a slight excitement.

He threw his duffel bag on the bed, and quickly put on his new uniform and made his way to the USS Resurrection.

The door to the main Engineering room swooshed open, and Daryl stepped inside. There where still half a dozen engineers inside, working on the last details and updates for the ship.

And there it was...the coaxial warp drive. It was smaller as he’d imagined, but nonetheless it looked impressive. From what he’d read from the specs of the ship’s new experimental drive was that it could travel 10 lightyears a minute. That was impressive ! Nowadays, most ships where able to travel on warp 9.975, but only for short times. It would take about 6,5 hrs to travel 10 lightyears on warp 9,975. This ship could do that in a minute ! Daryl grinned.

He would love to see how this new ship would do the job.

MacLeod was in the War Room viewing several newsfeeds from the Federation about ongoing terrorist attacks and unrest on Andoria Prime. Things there were worsening and were perhaps the most volatile of all the unrest in the quadrant.

After collecting intel for several hours, he prepared his briefing and sent a message to the team. There will be a mission briefing in the Situation Room on Ops Base One at 1600 hours. MacLeod out.