"Sensors back on line Commander," Bradley reported officially from the tactical station. "I'm scanning the area around us," she continued, pausing. "Either sensors can't penetrate this effect we're caught in, or it extends to a point beyond our scanning range." When no response came after a moment, Bradley leaned over her console, "Commander, are you alright?"
Bradley walked around the tactical station to where Yilaan was sitting in the command chair. She was rocking herself back and forth in the chair, straightening her legs, then bending her knees, repetitively. Her nose was stuffy and she was crying. "Everything's fine!" Yilaan said angrily. "Everyone's dead, but why should that bother me? Jevor, Reiv, Giovanni. Ivanovna killed herself," Yilaan continued. Bradley's face paled as Ivanovna's suicide was mentioned; she wasn't aware of this occurrence, and until now what was happening on the ship hadn't really hit home. Until now, that is. Feeling slightly nauseous, Bradley took a seat next to Yilaan, who continued venting dismay the whole time. "Most of the children have had to watch their parents shrink to a small cell or two before disappearing all together. And the captain....the captain," Yilaan was saying, her voice trailing off as she shook her head. "And I'm so scared," she finished, sounding more like an upset child than Commander Yilaan.
"Yes well," Bradley stammered, scrambling for words. "It's important that those of us who are left honor those who are gone. We must do our duty and try to get out of this." Though not very eloquent, Bradley felt better after saying that to Yilaan; as though she'd clumsily spoken what her friend and mentor Ivanovna might've felt if she were there.
The words seemed to have an effect, however, as Yilaan stopped crying, and straightened in her chair. The frightened child was gone for the moment, and Commander Yilaan returned. "You're right, of course," she replied, her voice distinctly stronger than it was a moment earlier. She looked down at herself and smiled, "I think I could use a new uniform; this one's way too big!" The two shared a laugh as Yilaan got up and went to her quarters.
Minutes later, Yilaan returned with a properly sized uniform and her tears wiped away. Her hair had grown significantly in the past few hours, and she tied the wealth of it back out of the way. She sat in the command chair grim-faced as if awaiting battle or the like, while Ensign Bradley worked feverishly at the tactical station, responding to communiques to the Bridge, and coordinating repairs of the engines. No one sat at the navigation or helm stations; in fact Ensign Bradley and Commander Yilaan were alone on the Bridge.
Bradley interrupted the silence after a few moments, "Commander, I'm getting a ship now on long range scan!"
"Identify!" Yilaan excitedly responded.
"This is strange," Bradley said after a few moments. "Commander, it appears to be a Klingon battlecruiser, type D-7, from over eighty years ago. They're no longer in service, so I don't..."
"Maybe that ship and its crew are from eighty years ago, too, Ensign," Yilaan responded. "They could've been caught in this as well. Who knows where we all are? Or when?"
"But if they're from eighty years ago...," Bradley said, pausing. "The Klingons were our enemies then!"
Yilaan turned in the command chair, and looked up to face Bradley at the tactical station above and behind her. "We may be in trouble," she said solemnly, her eyes opened wide with trepidation. "Very big trouble."
Something beeped on the tactical station's panel. "Commander," Bradley reported, "we're getting a response to our automated distress signal. It's from the Klingon ship."
Not thinking, Yilaan instinctively replied, "On screen."
An exceptionally large and menacing looking Klingon appeared on the screen and squinted at the bridge of the Bristol. In a moment, he and his fellow officers were doubled over with laughter. Blushing furiously, Yilaan stood up, took a deep breath, and with all the force she could muster, shouted, "I am Commander Cecilia Yilaan of the Federation starship Bristol. Are your intentions peaceful or otherwise?" The sound of her voice and the way she was attempting to carry herself only made the Klingons laugh harder. Eventually she let out an audible squeal of frustration and stomped her feet a couple of times, which itself served to further exacerbate the situation.
At length, however, the Klingons quit laughing. Their leader leaned forward and shouted, "Surrender and prepare to have your ship boarded, little girl!" The Klingons in the background bared their teeth in malice and talked amongst themselves about how glorious it would be to bring in a Federation starship intact.
Yilaan, in response, stuck her tongue out, put her thumbs in her ears and made motions with her hands while making the "Thhffpppttttt" sound. The Klingons blinked at her in bewilderment as she grinned evilly and shouted authoritatively, "Screen off!" Ensign Bradley complied. "Red alert! Shields to maximum! Charge forward phaser banks and load all torpedo bays."
The computer buzzed at her and replied, "Changes in ship condition status only accepted by designated Starfleet personnel." The computer didn't recognize Yilaan's voice anymore.
Yilaan whirled about angrily, "Ensign!"
Bradley nodded, "Computer, red alert!" Then to Yilaan, "I'm raising the shields and bringing weapons online. You should know, however, that there's no one to load the torpedo bays." Cecilia made a face.
A hail of disruptor and torpedo fire ripped into the Bristol, throwing the two about. "Shield generator number four is gone! Moderate damage to the secondary hull. Emergency bulkheads in place," Bradley reported.
Yilaan sat back down, "Return fire!" Realizing that with the shield generator down, the Klingons could beam aboard at their leisure, she ran over to the compartment in the wall where the phasers were kept, and withdrew two. She tossed one near Bradley, and kept the other in her right hand. She adjusted the setting to 'kill.'
"A solid hit against their engineering section!" Bradley reported proudly. She had only a moment to celebrate when the ship was hit again by a volley of weapons fire. Bradley was thrown to the deck. She took the opportunity to grab the phaser Yilaan had tossed on the floor next to her as she stood up and went back to her post. "Heavy damage to the primary hull, shield generator number two is down. Weapons systems off-line." Transporter signatures appeared on the Bridge, and sensors indicated multiple figures beaming aboard elsewhere on the ship. Not waiting for Yilaan's prompting, Bradley called out, "Computer, initiate anti-intruder protocols, and issue condition General Quarters, Level A."
The lighting took on a distinctly bluish hue before the computer complained, "Aenesthrizine gas distribution failure. Control circuit burnout."
Bradley swore as multiple Klingons charged her and Yilaan, with Bat'leths and their three-pronged daggers poised and ready to strike. Both officers discharged their hand phasers, cutting down an enemy each. However, there were too many of them, and quickly Yilaan and Bradley were surrounded. Blow after blow landed to both crewmen. Just as Yilaan, bleeding and crying, thought she would mercifully lose consciousness, there was a flash of light. The blows against her stopped; the Klingons, along with Ensign Bradley, were held frozen in place. She blinked her eyes a few times, wiping the blood and tears from her face, and crawled out from where she was being pummeled.
She was looking back towards her attackers the whole time, and thus didn't see a man standing a few paces off until she bumped into him. She gasped sharply and raised her arm up to ward off an expected blow. When it didn't come, she lowered her arm slowly and peered upwards. At first she didn't recognize the human male in a Starfleet Admiral's uniform in front of her, but his identity came back to her soon enough. "Q?" she asked incredulously.
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