"Energy readings nominal Captain," a trim, well-groomed Human male said from what appeared to be a science station.
"Thank you, Lieutenant Rommel; continue automatic scan. Helm keep us on our patrol course, as updated," Captain Henderson ordered. Henderson was a Human male in his late fifties. An experienced captain, he was known for providing his crew with the best real food in the fleet. He believed that a ship travelled on its stomach, and that eating only rations was somehow dehumanizing. Unlike 24th century vessels that came equipped with replicators, these ships had experimental systems only. Most of the crew's sustenance came from rations. The captain made a concerted effort to get real food in large quantities whenever possible. He was consequently appreciated by his crew, and posts on his ship were coveted.
The helmsman, a pretty Human female, acknowledged the captain's order.
The single turbolift door to the Bridge opened behind the captain's chair and a Vulcan man strolled out. The captain turned and nodded to him, "What's new, Doctor?"
The Vulcan shook his head, "Nothing unusual to report Captain; things were ... ah ... quiet in Sickbay."
"Things are pretty quiet up here too, Doctor," the captain said leisurely. "We're just continuing our patrol, keeping an eye out for God knows what."
The doctor nodded. "An important task, certainly," he said thoughtfully.
The captain sighed and gestured with his hand for the doctor to lean closer for a quiet discussion. "Serkek I know you weren't thrilled with this post. I know you wanted the excitement on board the E.S. Templeton or one of those other ships exploring unknown space."
The captain was about to continue, when Serkek put his hand up and inserted. "Captain, please. My motivation is to serve on a spaceship and contribute something that will better both my people and yours. I am a Vulcan; I'm not capable of the feelings you're assigning me."
The gray-haired captain flushed slightly. "I'm sorry Serkek. Very well then," he stammered, adjusting himself in his chair.
"Think nothing of it sir," Serkek responded neutrally.
At length the turbo-lift door to the Bridge opened again and a Yeoman strolled out with a message pad of sorts; archaic by 24th century standards, but state of the art for the crew of the Dallas. He handed it to the captain who perused it, a slow smile creeping onto his face. The Yeoman departed with a nod.
"Something amuses you sir?" Serkek inquired.
"What? Oh, no ... well, yes actually. It's a note from my grandson. He's eight years old," the captain replied. Henderson then smiled and laughed at some particularly clever portion of text.
"Captain I'm detecting some sort of strange energy patterns about 60,000 kilometers to starboard," the science officer reported anxiously.
"Engage the viewing screen and focus on that area," Captain Henderson ordered, alertly shifting his attention back to business. The viewing screen was engaged and most of the Bridge crew stared at what appeared to me an assortment of stars. "What is it?" the captain asked. "I can't see anything there."
The science officer shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know sir, but I'm reading a powerful source of energy from that location."
"Double-check your sensors and make sure we're looking at the correct location also," the captain suggested.
"Checking," the science officer said, pausing. "Aye sir, everything checks out," he said, looking up and nodding to his captain. Henderson nodded back and turned back around to face the viewscreen.
"Sir," the woman at the helm inserted, "doesn't the screen seem unusually blurry somehow?"
Henderson squinted, "You're right, Lieutenant. I've never seen anything like it before. The stars seem like they're shimmering a little bit."
"Captain I'm now detecting a massive energy surge from that location," the young science officer reported excitedly. As he spoke, a massive dark green ship decloaked from the prior location of energy and shimmering stars.
"My God," Henderson breathed, as the unknown vessel was easily fifteen times the size of his own scout craft. "Get me a channel to that ship."
"Frequency open," his communications officer replied.
"Unknown vessel, this is Captain Wilson P. Henderson of the Earth Ship Dallas. We represent a peaceful organization of planets. Please respond."
Silence was Henderson's only answer, until his science officer broke it. "Captain, my sensors indicate a power surge from the other ship."
"Weapons?" the captain asked.
"I can't tell. Their ship configuration is baffling to me."
"Raise our shields. Arm the lasers, and bring the accelerator cannon on line," the captain ordered. Henderson pressed a button on the arm of his command chair, giving him an open communications channel with every station and deck on his ship. "This is the captain; all stations go to red alert. All personnel to battle stations." A klaxon began to blare incessantly in the background.
"Captain, they're firing!" the science officer reported barely a second before a fierce volley of photon torpedoes and phaser fire thudded solidly into the tiny scout craft. Screams of surprise and agony filled the Bridge and the rest of the ship, as the crew was thrown violently to starboard by the force of the hit. Several consoles sparked and exploded, throwing crewmen into an unmoving heap.
"Damage report!" the captain cried out.
"Shields are gone Captain!" Lt. Rommel said, holding his head in a futile attempt to staunch a steady flow of blood coming from the right side. "Warp drive is gone, impulse engines are out. Life support is gone and sensors are off line." The dazed officer looked up from his console at his captain, "Sir, they're crippled us with one shot."
"What the hell are they using?" the captain shouted over the din of shipboard comm traffic.
"Unknown sir. I've never seen anything like their ship or their weapons before."
"Communications, get me a channel to their ship," the captain ordered. "Helm, jettison the log buoy." No response was given to the captain, as both the communications officer and the helmsman were dead.
"I'll open the comm channel sir," Serkek said hurriedly as he scrambled over debris to the communications console.
"I'm jettisoning the buoy," the captain replied.
"Frequency open Captain," Serkek reported.
"Unknown vessel. Please discontinue hostilities. We surrender," the captain called out over the subspace channel.
The unknown vessel came about and fired again. As the weaponry streaked toward the crippled Dallas, the captain's voice screamed, "We surrender! We surrender!" The volley of torpedoes and phaser fire ripped into the patrol ship. Scaffolding and deck plates ruptured and collapsed as several parts of the ship were torn open and exposed to space simultaneously. A particularly large ceiling strut came down and struck the captain solidly in the back of the head. He collapsed like a sack of wet cement onto what was left of his floor, the note from his grandson still clutched in his left hand. Minutes later, the Dallas exploded.
On board the unknown vessel, there was a kind of subdued mirth. "Nice shooting T'Larren," the helmsman said, looking back towards the tactical station.
The man referred to as T'Larren shook his head, "Not really; we could have had more fun with some prisoners out of that lot."
A woman got up from the command chair of the vessel and put her hand up. "Enough! These petty encounters are wasting time. We need to get to Earth and stop the accursed Federation from ever being formed. Shooting at space debris diverts us from our mission. Helm, continue on course, and increase to warp seven. Engage the cloaking device." There was no grumbling amongst the disciplined crew as they set forth to carry out the woman's orders. "Helm, time to Earth at warp seven," she said, sitting back down.
"A little over four days, Captain Tal," the helmsman responded.
"Excellent," Tal responded. As her ship streaked away from the site of the lopsided battle, she said, half to her crew and half under her breath, "Long live the Romulan Empire."
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