STAR TREK
STRANGE NEW WORLD

Based on 'Star Trek' 
created by Gene Roddenberry

STARRING

Evangeline Lilly as COMMANDER MYRA SHAW

Jai Courtney as LT. COMMANDER CARL KELHAM

Jack Harrer as LT. FINLEY McKENCHIE

Marc Ruffalo as LT. PERRY ALLEN (R.N.)

Temuera Morrison as COMMANDER ALDRED 

WITH 

Cobie Smulders as COMMANDER T'MUR

TBA as LIEUTENANT LESTER

TBA as ENSIGN FORRESTER

“Star Trek and all related marks, logos and characters are solely owned by CBS Studios Inc. This fan fiction is not endorsed by, sponsored by, nor affiliated with CBS, Paramount Pictures, or any other Star Trek franchise, and is a non-commercial fan-made piece of fiction intended for recreational use. No commercial exhibition or distribution is permitted. No alleged independent rights will be asserted against CBS or Paramount Pictures.”

Copyright (c) 2020

Produced by Sojournerverse Productions

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2x01: "Fallen Star"

Written By Alex Matthews

Myra Shaw did not want to be disturbed. Not now.
She stood watching the sun set on another long day on the uncharted, nameless planet in the back-end of the Beta Quadrant that she and the surviving crew of the late Starship Ascendant now called home. Whether or not the situation will be temporary or permanent was still very much uncertain, but Shaw took solace in the fact that hope prevailed among the crew as they went about their daily tasks. 
I just wish I felt the same...
Shrugging off the maudlin thought, the former security chief, now acting commander of their ragtag group, instead chose to marvel at how much the crew had adapted, pulled together and accomplished in the three long weeks since Romulans had attacked and destroyed their vessel. 
One such change was the fact that most of the crew had abandoned wearing their full uniforms. During daylight hours, the sun beat down on them mercilessly, and since they did not have enough desert-wear uniforms to go around, many of them wore either their undershirts open, or just dressed in the standard-issue t-shirt or vests. It was kind of hard to care about maintaining professional dress-code when you were sweating profusely and risking heat-stroke.
As the sun dipped below the mountains the filled the horizon, Shaw looked back over her shoulder at the massive elliptical mound of duranium-tritanium composite that rested in a deep groove in the ground behind her. Once upon a time, it had been the saucer section of the Ascendant, but now the broken hulk was the center of the impressive base-camp they'd erected. The crew had even taken to referring to it as 'Camp Ascendant'. It seemed fitting, all things considered.
Originally spread out all across the massive supercontinent that dominated the planet, Shaw and her fellow survivors aboard the Shuttlecraft Cornwell had established contact with the disparate groupings of escape pods and just over a half-dozen shuttles that had managed to avoid the wrath of the Romulans. After deliberation and discussing their available resources, they had now all come together and set up this single large settlement within the ruins of the saucer. 
As T'Mur had commented, it was logical. The saucer had survived it's crash landing mostly intact, although the hull was badly compromised, meaning it would never fly again. Boarding it to gather supplies was a risk, but one they had to take, mining it for any usable parts and equipment that would make their lives easier. 
It had been hard work, damn hard work, in fact. Several major components, including two damaged-but-repairable shield generators, several active micro-fusion power cells, working sensor pallets and intact water storage tanks, have been salvaged. It was enough to allow the crew to not to have to worry excessively about making any meager provisions from shuttles and escape pods last. 
Although it had cost them the live of Security Officer Bautista, the wreckage of the Borg Cube they'd encountered had provided them with several working cutting beam emitters. Retrofitting them to their shuttles, the Ascendant crew had been able to use them to carve up sections of the saucer hull. These would be used to help with the construction of shelters away from the saucer itself, to provide something more secure and longterm - if that was needed. For now, most of the crew were living in the emergency-issue tents they'd set up within a hollowed-out section of the saucer that has been reinforced and deemed structurally safe for habitation.
The humble beginning of a community was taking shape. Shaw watched from her vantage point as people went about their business. These were no longer just 'crewmembers' to her anymore, someone she may exhange a nod with as she passed down a corridor, or rode a turbolift with. They were living in each others pocket, now. 
She had made it a point to go and talk to each and everyone of the survivors, putting names to their faces, burning them into her memory - she was their leader, if only for the time being. She prided herself on making a personal connection to everyone under her direct command, but she was sorry to admit that when it came to the rest of the crew, she had kept her distance. She didn't have that option now - she knew she had to not only count on every single person that was left, but also make sure they knew they could count on her. She was thankful to have such a strong core group of senior officers around her that actually helped her believe she was up to the task. 
She knew that Lt. Perry Allan, obstensibly the Chief Nurse, but now the senior ranking medical officer, had been hard at work since their arrival. He'd barely stopped to rest since they had been able to set up asmall but functional medical area for him to properly tend to those injured during the escape from the Ascendant. 
One of those was Commander T'Mur, the First Officer. She had only briefly regained consciousness once since passing out from an abdominal injury sustained when the Cornwell had crashed. Allan, despite his protestations that he was 'only a nurse', had been forced to perform life-saving surgery on the Vulcan woman, and thanks to whatever gods were watching over them all, T'Mur had pulled through it. 
Others, like Carl Kelham or Aldred, also had plenty to keep them busy, with the Kravaarian science officer was leading those that remain of his science teams in studying their new home. Using two of the shuttles, they were performing a detailed survey of both the immediate regions as well as continuing to study the unusual effects of the quantum-energy field around the planet. 
Kelham, meanwhile, had put his mechanial skills to good use, helping with the recovery and repair of several battery generators from the saucer, to provide needed power to supplement small solar-power arrays he and his engineers had set up. Alongside a couple of exo-botanists, he had also helped make the beginnings of a hydroponic-assisted garden, salvaged from the saucer's labs. 
But even as life carried on, Shaw still found herself drawn back to the small area away from the camp that she had made a point of visiting every day as night fell. Several dozen mounds of dirt lined the ground, small makeshift markers at the head of them. 
It was a graveyard. A place where the fallen bodies of Ascendant crewmembers recovered from the saucer have been interred. A place where many of the crew have gone to pay their respects. Where Myra Shaw often went to collect her thoughts, to get peace from the constant day to day struggle that their lives had become.
Somewhere where she could allow herself to acknowledge the fear and despair that threatened to swamp her every day. 
As feared, there has been no response to the emergency distress beacon they had been able to repair, as well as set-up with components they salvaged from the Borg Cube. Aldred was confident that his transmission would only be detectable to a trained specialist at a Starfleet listening post. It's continued transmission was a definitive symbol of hope for the crew in these trying times, one they desperately needed.
Hope springs eternal, isn't that the saying?
But Shaw recognized that she was a realist. She knew that after a while, if there continued to be no reply, morale would start to waver. That people would begin to realize the decreasing chances of leaving this strange new world behind any time soon.
If ever...

*             *             *

I really should have gotten that cup of coffee...
Carl Kelham was tired, sunburned and more then a little cranky. All he wanted was to get back to work, finishing up the final touches to a pet project he'd been working on for the past week. But, instead, he was stuck inside the too-hot passenger cabin of the Shuttlecraft Cornwell, listening to Aldred drone on about his science teams latest discoveries regarding the planet they'd been unlucky enough to find themselves stuck on.
Intellectually, yeah, Kelham more then understood that they needed to learn all they could about their temporary home. There were still so many unanswered questions about how the Ascendant had even been pulled across thousands of light-years to end up here in the first place. Not to mention, the origin and make-up of the weird energy barrier that encircled the class-M desert world. 
So, the engineer put aside his annoyance, and instead did what he could to pay attention to the fuschia-skinned scientist as he gushed in detail about what he'd discovered. 
"The exogenic field around this planet is composed of unfiltered quantum-level energetized particles, which is most unusual," Aldred explained animatedly, a state he often  worked himself into when it came to scientific mysteries, "Quantm fields of this magnitude do not often exist in nature naturally outside of dark matter nebulae."
Planetary sciences were not Kelham's strong point, but he couldn't help but grin a little at Aldred's enthusiastic report. Everyone else present, including Finley McKenchie and several of the science team, listened with avid interest, caught up in the Science Officer's presentation.
All except Myra, who had remained as stony-faced as when she entered from her daily ritual of paying her respects to those they'd lost. Kelham was worried - she'd been keeping to herself a lot the last week or so. I should talk to her, afterwards. See what's bugging her. But for now, he brought his attention back to Aldred.
"Our scans indicate the reason this is possible is because the core of the planet is suffused with tachyon particles." he continued, "This also allowed it to form without any deleterious effects towards the planet's developing ecosystem."
Kelham leaned forward, intrigued more then a little, as much as he hated to admit it. "It kinda reminds me of reports I read about that engine design that Voyager brought back with it. The quantum slipstream drive."
Aldred nodded enthusiastically, "Indeed. There are many similarities. In fact, I believe this field may be the reason the Ascendant was pulled here."
He touched a control on the wall display he stood in front of, bringing up a representation of the planet, with the energy field around it. After a moment, a sequence began to play out, showing the formation of energy vortices within close proximity to the field, reaching out into space for several seconds before dissipating. 
"In the three weeks since our arrival," Aldred explained, "I have monitored 47 separate incidents of what appear to be the formation of 'slipstream apertures'." He looked at each of them, his dark eyes gleaming with excitement, "The energy field seems to randomly produce them. Like naturally occuring wormholes, though, their exit points do not appear to open at fixed locations, and they last only several seconds."
The nervous energy within the shuttle compartment became thick enough to cut with a laser scalpel. Kelham looked over as McKenchie excitedly posed a question, "Could the field prevent us from taking a shuttle up into orbit?"
Aldred shook his head, "I don't believe so, Lieutenant."
McKenchie's excited grin faded as Myra spoke up, her tone firm, "That said, no one is to take any joyrides, is that clear?" She faced down the flight control officer's surprised look, "We shouldn't risk our limited shuttle complement to test a theory, or worse, be caught in one of these vortices and end up who knows where."
She fixed the lieutenant with a look the brokered no arguments, "We still to sub-orbital cruising, is that understood?"
Shaw received a defeated nod in response. After a moment, Aldred continued, "One note of particular interest, was a strange subspatial flucuation within the outer edge of the field itself approximately 13 hours ago."
He brought up another screen of data, a readout of wave-forms that Kelham found himself unable to make any sense of. Stick him in front of a warp-drive diagnostic or any kind of engineering display, he was in his element. But this, it was just pure gibberish.
But it seemed to make perfect sense to the Kravaarian, "It appears as if a small area of the field around the planet underwent a phase-shift. I was prepared to dismisses it, believing it to be a natural part of the field's behaviour, but we detected another shift shortly before the meeting was to commence."
Kelham watched as Shaw's eyes narrowed. He recognized that look. "Anything we should be concerned about?"
Aldred  looked unsure of himself for a moment, "I cannot say at this time, Commander."
The Ascendant's tactical officer let out a brief sigh of annoyance, "Keep at eye on it, for now."
Aldred nodded, "Of course, Commander."
It seemed Shaw was about to say something else, but the opening of the Cornwell's access hatch cut her off. Like everyone else, Kelham looked over to see who was walking in on the briefing, and like them, he was surprised to see the lithe form of Commander T'Mur enter. 
She moved slowly and with care, using the crutch that had been fashioned for her, as well as being assisted by Perry Allan. The acting C.M.O. frowned with concern for his patient, but let her set the pace as she walked on. 
An arched eyebrow was her only response for a moment, as she saw that everyone was looking her way, until finally she spoke. "As you were."
Shaw quickly dismissed the meeting, sending everyone on their way. McKenchie offered a brief greeting to T'Mur as he passed, as well as a quick kiss on Allen's cheek. Soon, it was just the four of them left within the Cornwell's aft compartment.
"It's good to see you up and about, Commander." Kelham meant it, too. He liked and respected the Ascendant's Executive Officer. He'd never really gotten on with Captain Donovan - okay, he'd loathed the man, in all fairness - but T'Mur and him had always worked well together. 
"It is agreeable to see you, as well, Mr. Kelham," the Vulcan woman replied, as she gently eased herself into one of the jump-seats, "Although I believe Mr. Allen here wishes I had stayed in my tent recuperating."
The nurse grimaced, "I just think you're pushing yourself too fast."
T'Mur shook her head, "I have recovered sufficiently enough." Her eyes looked to Shaw, "I wish to speak to Commander Shaw in private."
Okay..? What's going on here? As Kelham looked to both women, who only seemed to have forgotten anyone else was present, Allen grudgingly exited. 
Kelham leaned in to Shaw, tapping her gently on the shoulder to get her to focus on him, "Come find me when you're done, okay? There's something I want to show you."
He delighted in her wary curiosity for a moment, offering a coy smile, before making his own exit into the searing-hot sun.
The things I'll do to make that woman smile...

*             *             *

Shaw didn't really mind the heat. Yeah, it was uncomfortable at times, but you got used to it after a while. She's been born and raised in Arizona, so it was something she had been used to from an early age. 
That said, Shaw became very aware of just how warm it was within the Cornwell's aft section, as she tried to process what T'Mur had just asked of her. "Sorry," she found herself saying, "but I don't understand."
T'Mur responded evenly, "My statement was clear, Commander."
Shaw blinked a few times, trying to organise her chaotic thoughts, "You don't want to take back command from me?" She shook her head, "But why, ma'am?"
"Lieutenant Allan's medical judgement errs on being overly cautious, but he is correct in saying that I need further time to recuperate from my injuries. I do not believe I am in the best physical condition to assume command." T'Mur hesitated for a moment. Not much, but enough that Shaw, who had worked with the Vulcan for several years, noticed. "But that is not the only reason."
She abruptly looked away, breaking eye contact, "While I may have been an effective First Officer for Captain Donovan for a mission of exploration, I do not believe I am the correct choice in the current circumstances."
Shaw was stunned. Was that a hint of shame in T'Mur's expression? Of regret in her tone, "But, Commander--?"
T'Mur lifted up a hand, forestalling any further arguments, meeting her gaze again, "My decision is made, Commander Shaw." 
Shaw knew the Vulcan well enough to be aware that once a decision was made, there was no point in trying to talk her out of it. No matter how desperately she wanted too. "Of course, ma'am."
T'Mur's gaze softened just slightly, "I do not make this decision lightly, Myra." Shaw stared in stunned amazement. She-- she's never used my given name before! "I have watched you since I regained consciousness. The crew trust you. Believe in your leadership. I truly believe you are the best person to lead our people through this difficult time."
Shaw realized she was staring. But she couldn't help herself. To hear T'Mur say this things..? "Very well, Commander. I understand," she finally replied. "I won't let you down."
With a hint of a smile, and with some effort, T'Mur pushed herself up into a standing position, leaning heavily on her crutch, "I do not intend to forget my duty, though. I am still an able scientist, so I believe my time is best spent assisting Commander Aldred with his studies of the planet."
Shw watched as T'Mur proceeded to carefully hobble her way out of the shuttle. "He'll be lucky to have you," Shaw found herself saying, meaning it too.
T'Mur looked over her shoulder back at her. "As are we, to have you, Commander." She offered a final, concise nod, before heading back outside.
Shaw straightened her shoulders. For the first time since their crash landing, she feel like she could actually handle the heavy weight of the burden of command that rested on them.

*             *             *

"Surprise!"
Seeing the utter amazement and excited joy light up Myra's face made all the work that Kelham had been putting in to his super-secret project worth it. All the hours spent cursing failed attempts to make it work, the countless minor scrapes and cuts he'd sustained using tools in a way for a task they hadn't been design for. Totally worth it.
Coming around from behind her after removing his hands from over her eyes, the engineer took a moment to bask in Shaw's disbelief, as she finally stuttered a response, "Th-- this is what you've been doing?"
He nodded, "In my off-hours, all by myself, so no-one else's productivity or free time was eaten into, yeah."
It had been a lot of hard work, but it was worth it. He stepped up to the kitbash contraption he had slaved over for the past week, and pulled on the make-shift activation lever. Uttering a silent prayer as he did. Please, please, please let this work!
As freshly processed, clean, warm water began to spray out of the assembled row of shower heads, Kelham felt his heart buoy with contentment as Myra laughed, entranced by the streaming fluid. "Oh my God, Carl! This is fantastic!"
She surprised him with a ferocious embrace as she flung her arms around him, squeezing him tight. He soon returned with equal affection, before they mutually pulled apart. He shrugged, trying to be as nonchalant as possible, "It was nothing. I just ripped out and fixed the systems from several of the saucer crew quarters." 
He quickly deactivated the system, so not to over-tax it when it wasn't needed for the moment. Then pointed out some of the 'behind-the-scenes' aspects of it, "I managed to extract a water-recycling tank, fix it up, and put together a system so that we're not wasting any of the water."
Myra nodded, still smiling with glee, "It's perfect. Everyone is going to be so happy to actually be able to feel a little cleaner."
Kelham couldn't agree more. Given his line of work, he was used to finishing up a shift smelling of lubricant or other such chemicals you would come across working within a starship engineering section. Having a shower, water or sonic, he didn't care, was the first way he began relaxing after a long shift. 
He knew Myra enjoyed her water showers, as part of her own off-shift relaxation ritual. Given everything she had been forced to deal with since the Ascendant's destruction and their crash-landing, he had begun this project as his own way of helping ease her stress.
"So," he began, "I was thinking if there had to be anyone who should have the inaugral visit to our new facility, it's you."
"Is that your polite way of saying I smell?" The teasing glint in her eyes, something Kelham had begun to  miss more then he'd like to admit, as well as her coy smile, told him she was kidding. That said, she did start to gently pull away at her already-open uniform shirt, "Or just your way of trying to get me naked..?"
Kelham smiked, remembering some of the other ways he and Myra had found to enjoy themselves with the confines of a shower cubicle. "Well, you know, it makes sense to share," he pointed out, "you know, conserve the water and power supply?"
Shaw began to slowly tease the tip of her finger across the exposed part of his chest, his own uniform top open, "As T'Mur would say, very logical."
Kelham grinned, leaning in to place his lips on hers--
--but instead found himself wincing in pain as an almighty roar of sound caught them both off-guard! "What the Hell..?!" 
He looked to Shaw, but she seemed as clueless as he was, before looking up, her eyes wide with bewilderment. She pointed upwards, "Look!"
He looked in the direction she was indicating, and felt his stomach do a series of flips as he saw the massive fireball that streaked across the sky. A meteor? He watched silently as several smaller fragments broke away from the main body of the falling mass, gravity pulling at them hungrily, before they passed out of view behind one of the mountain ranges that encircled the region they had made camp.
Kelham held his breath in the abrupt silence that followed. Felt Myra's hand grab hold of his shirt, as they both braced themselves as the ground around them began to shake. Here it comes...

*             *             *

BOOM!!
All across Camp Ascendant, everyone froze in their tasks, hands clamping over ears to protect them from the deafening blast of impact, as they took what shelter they could as everything around them began to shake. It was as if the ground itself was protesting their presence on it, and was trying to through them off, like a bucking bronco from the American Old West. 
Hull plates already loosed by the crash-landing were shaken loose from the saucer section's outer framework. Several of the tents and recently-constructed shelters were shaken apart, collapsing upon their occupants.
Impact tremors caused several deek gouges to form within the area of the camp. One formed directly beneath of the collections of escape pods, causing them to fall in.
All around, the Ascendant survivors clung to each other, doing what they could to keep themselves safe as the planet groaned in protest at the sudden assault it had undergone...

*             *             *

They gotten damn lucky.
As Finley McKenchie waited for the computer to finish a diagnostic on all systems, the final part of his pre-flight in readiness for taking the Shuttlecraft Bridger out on it's mission, he looked out the cockpit window.
The tremors had taken a serious toll on Camp Ascendant, and there had been a run of injuries for the few medical personnel they still had to take care of. Thankfully, no-one had suffered any serious issues, par a couple of broken limbs. He knew Perry was grateful for that - his poor boyfriend had been feeling more then a little overwhelmed with the responsibilities he had been given as acting C.M.O., but McKenchie could not be more proud of him. 
The worst area damaged had been several of the escape pods, where the ground underneath them had given way. Though they'd been able to retrieve them using shuttle-mounted tractor beams, two of them had suffered serious hull damage. While still usable, they were no longer atmospherically sealable. Still, if that was the worst of it, McKenchie knew they should be thankful for it. 
Now, while everyone pulled their weight in getting Camp Ascendant back up and running again, checking various pieces of scavenged and salvaged equipment and resources, the pilot was just happy that he was doing his part in the best way he knew how - taking the Bridger out for a spin. 
The shuttles that had made it off the Ascendant before it's demise were few and far between. The type-11 Bridger, three type-6s, two type-9s as well as the type-17 Cornwell and it's land vehicle. Not the strongest force, but it was enough to set up a sensor-net of sorts, using the limited arrays fitted as standard on the shuttles, enhanced with equipment from recovered sensor pallets from the saucer section. Five or six of the shuttles maintained the network, while a single shuttle would go out on patrol. 
Yet, for whatever reason, that hadn't been enough to give them any kind of warning about the meteor that had burned through the air only a few hours ago.
So now, as the computer finished its diagnostic and confirms all systems were operating and ready for launch, McKenchie brought the necessary systems on-line and at readiness as his co-pilot boarded. 
"Hatch secured," Aldred confirmed, hydraulics groaning softly, before he took the seat next to McKenchie. 
He nodded, as he opened a comm channel to the Cornwell, "Command Post, this is Bridger, ready for launch."
[Understood, Bridger,] came back Commander Shaw's response, [Safe travels. Let us know what you find out there.]
McKenchie grinned, eager excitement getting the better of him, "Will do, Commander. We'll get plenty of holiday snapshots for postcards. Bridger, out."
As the shuttle slowly rose up into the air under his delicate instruction, McKenchie could feel Aldred's curious gaze upon him. Already knew just what the Kravaarian was going to ask him.
"Postcards, Lieutenant?"

*             *             *

As he studied sensor readings, Aldred took a moment to enjoy the fact that his species was blessed in the fact that they did not suffer motion sickness.
Lt. McKenchie was an excellent pilot, hence his being assigned as the Alpha Shief senior flight control officer, and the Bridger had fully functional inertial dampeners. But that still didn't protect them from the intense effects of flying their shuttle through a heavy stormcloud of dust and debris.
The cloud itself was of little surprise. From what Aldred could gather from the sensors, the meteor had made planetfall with significant speed, though thankfully not enough to cause any lasting and devastating effects to the loca ecosystem. However, that was about all the good news there was, which was why he was already delivering his report via radio to Commander Shaw back at Camp Ascendant.
[How bad is it, Aldred?]
As the computer finished their projections, and confirmed his own estimates, he tried to keep his tone steady, "Although we should not suffer any problems in the long run, I fear there will be some issues in the short term."
Shaw's own tone was tinged with alarm, [What kind of problems are we looking at?]
"The meteor impact was quite significant," he replied. He again tried to focus on the positive, "That said, I do not believe we have to be concerned about the effects of a nuclear-winter."
[I sense a 'but' coming.] Lt. Commander Kelham's comment momentarily caught Aldred off-guard. Although he was fluent in Federation Standard, the chief engineer seemed to delight in using certain vernacular formations that confused him. Before he could enquire, he heard Shaw gently admonish Kelham, before continuing [Carry on, Mr. Aldred.] 
"However," he said, pausing only briefly when he heard what sounded like Mr. Kelham stifling a snort of laughter, "I do believe it could cause some problems with the solar array."
Shaw sighed, [That's disappointing, but not life-threatening. We've managed to charge up the batteries considerably already, and can break into our stash of power cells. Wait it out.]
Aldred swallowed nervously, disliking being the 'bearer of bad news', as it were, "I'm afraid that is not all." He checked a ancilliary screen, where a meteorological scan was blinking for his attention, "We passed through a signficant cloud of dust thrown up by the impact. It has already intersected and merged with a category-2 gust-front that was passing through the region. It is forming into a Type-D sand-storm."
"That's not all, Commander," McKenchie piped up urgently, as he continued doing what he could to keep the Bridger stable as they carried on through the storm-cloud. "I just ran a projection of this storm's path, and it's going to smack straight into Camp Ascendant."

*             *             *

They needed a plan. They need it fast.
As she stood at dining/briefing table looking at the assembled core group of senior officer and team leaders, Shaw saw her own uncertainty mirrored in each of their faces. She knew they needed to see her as strong and prepared, so she did what she knew she had to do - she collected all her doubts and anguish and pushed them down deep. Compartmentalized them  within a smaller, darker part of her mind. 
The crew comes first, she repeated in her daily manta, you come second. After a moment, she cleared her throat, "Okay, people. What are our options?"
"The logical course of action is to evacuate," voiced T'Mur, who declined to be seated, instead leaning heavily on her crutch, one hand on the table top. "Set up a secondary site in an area outside the storm."
Kelham grunted in resignation, shaking his head, "Not an option." He met the Vulcan's stoic gaze with a steely one of his own, "We're down two escape pods, and even if they were functional, their fuel reserves were completed depleted by the relocation effort. They can't fly on their battery power alone."
Perry Allen looked to each of them worriedly, "Can't we just use the shuttles?"
This time it was Shaw who shook her head in response, but she made a point of keeping her tone relaxed and calm as she replied, "No can do, Perry. There's not enough time to get everyone out the storm's path, and it's growing bigger by the minute."
T'Mur looked towards her, "Then it seems we shall have to 'hunker down and ride it out', I believe the saying is?"
Shaw couldn't help but smile a little at the Vulcan's turn of phrase, "Indeed it is." She looked to Kelham, could see the glint in his eye that was a telltale sign he was already working out if they could do it, "Carl?"
"Yeah, yeah. I think we can do it," he replied, nodding with enthusiasm. "I mean, we move everyone out from the saucer, into the pods and shuttles, then batten down the hatches and wait it out." He grimaced, "I mean, it'll be cramped as hell without the Bridger and down two pods, and push the environmental systems to the limit, but they should last long enough."
Shaw wasn't convinced, "They 'should' last long enough?"
Carl simply shrugged, "Hey, a 'should' is the best I can give you right now. I need to get my guys running diagnostics on them to be sure."
She didn't push, and when it came to anything engineering-related, she trusted Carl's judgement on the matter. "Okay," she said, "Get on that."
She looked back at everyone else, "Everyone else, your jobs are to get everything and everybody ready for what's coming. We need to shut down and cover everything we can to limit the degree of damage it will sustain from the storm."
"Let's get to it."
 
*             *             *

"Whoa..!"
Keeping the shuttle steady was easier now the storm had finally passed them by. It also meant the McKenchie didn't have focus all his attention on the controls, allowing him to look out the cockpit viewport and whistle with awe at the sight of before him.
The impact crater from the meteor was big! At least a couple of kilometers in diameter, and maybe half-again as deep. It was one thing to be told it had struck with plenty of force, but quite another to see it up close, as it were. 
The entire area had been flattened, with small fires burning all around. There was still a lot of smoke hanging in the air, which prevented a clear visual on whatever remained of the meteor within the hole that marked where it had made planet-fall.
"Indeed, Lieutenant." Aldred's hushed agreement brought McKenchie's attention back to the task at hand. "We should continue taking our scans."
McKenchie nodded, adjusting their position to bring their forward sensor array to bare on the crater--
--only the feel the breath being forced out of his lungs by the force of being slammed against his console, as the Bridger suddenly pitched forward in an uncontrolled descent. 
"Hang on to something!" He worked his controls furiously, slapping his hand against the panel in frustration when it refused to cooperate, "Something's wrong with the thrusters!"
"Diagnostics are showing a fault in the reaction control thruster exhaust assembly," Aldred responded calmly, "It seems to be having a cascade effect on all propulsion systems."
McKenchie shook with frustration, "I'm going to have to land us, before we loose complete control and take a nose-dive." He quickly angled the Bridger into the correct alignment for landing, easing off on the thrusters as gently but as quickly as he could. Hold on, just hold on a little longer...
The cockpit was jarred just enough to serve as an indicator that the Bridger had successfully come down. McKenchie let out the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding, allowing himself a slow sigh of genuine relief before focusing on his necessary tasks, "Disengaging engines. Securing thruster exhaust, and shutting the RCS system down."
He began to instruct the shuttle's computer to begin a level-2 diagnostic of all systems, just to be on the safe side. But he looked over as he heard Aldred mutter quietly under his breath, "Most alarming."
Looking up, he followed the Kravaarian's intense gaze, looking out the viewport. He didn't see anything new. The smoke was beginning the dissipate, but it still made visibility close to zero...
Wait a second... Is that..? McKenchie leaned forward, rubbing a finger across the transparent-aluminum surface of the viewport. Scratches. Deep scratches. Almost gouges. Like what you'd expect to be caused by stellar debris if the navigational deflectors didn't divert it.
The pilot looked over at the science officer. Could see the growing concern he was feeling mirrored in his senior officer's dark eyes, "I believe we may have a serious problem."

*             *             *

"You gotta be freaking kidding me?!"
Carl Kelham couldn't help himself. His outbursts were well-known among his engineering crews, and with them, he never felt the need to hold back. Most of the time in senior officers briefings, he managed to keep his tongue well and truly clamped, especially after Captain Donovan had made it clear he would not tolerate further 'incidents' in his presence. 
But this time, since it was only himself and Shaw present in the Cornwell, Kelham felt no need to retrain his impulses, as he absorbed what the sensor data they were receiving from the Shuttlecraft Bridger actually meant.
[I regret to say I am not 'kidding you', Commander,] came back Aldred's dour reply, as Shaw continued to listen worriedly. [The particulate matter that the approaching sandstorm is primarily composed of has proven most effective at causing severe damage to the shuttlecraft's hull.]
"How badly has the storm left you?" Shaw leaned forward as she spoke, her arms crossed against her chest. 
[We're grounded for now, Commander.] McKenchie sounded more annoyed about the fact then anything. Kelham suppressed an inappropriate smile, but he understood that the lieutenant was just pissed off that the wind had been taken out of his sails, so to speak. [I might be able get us airborne, but I need to do a physical examination to be sure.]
"No unnecessary risks, Lieutenant," Shaw cautioned, "We can make do without you two and the Bridger for a little while. Understood?"
With a reluctant acknowledgement, McKenchie closed to comm frequency. Kelham looked at Shaw dubiously, "You know that's not true, right?"
Shaw met his level gaze, and he saw in her eyes that she knew exactly what he meant. Still, he knew he needed to say it, to reinforce the point, "If that storm is as dangerous as it looks like it's going to be, then we're screwed. The escape pods and saucer won't stand up to that kind of abuse, let alone our EVA suits!" 
Kelham stopped himself, taking a breath to remind himself to remain calm. "I mean, yes, the shuttles can use their shields to stay protected for a limited time, but that's about it. Myra, we can't fit everyone inside six shuttles."
"We can't fit all of them inside seven, either, Karl," Shaw pointed out tiredly. "Having them rush back in some vain attempt to help, only to end up crashing?" She shook her head, with stubborn determination, "No, I won't have that. So, we need other options."
"The shuttles are our best bet," he repeated, "We can evac at least half our people in the time we have before the storm hits us."
"But to where?'," Shaw considered She pressed controls on the wall screen, pulling up the most recent topographic scans of the area, overlaying it with the meteorological data that Aldred had sent. "We need to designate a 'safe zone. Somewhere out of the path of the storm."
As Shaw studied the scans, Kelham felt the spark of an idea begin to take shape. "Those waiting to be evacuated can take shelter deep inside the saucer, and we can move people out in groups to a--"
"There may be another option," Kelham blurted out.
"I think I have an idea..."

*             *             *

This is so not good...
As he ran the tricorder over the exposed innards of the Bridger's primary exhaust manifold, McKenchie really, really did not like what he was seeing on the display screen. It was enough to make him use one of the older style vulgar cursewords he'd picked up in his youth on New Portland, "Oh, shitting Hell..."
"Lieutenant?"
Feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment, having forgotten that Kravaarian hearing was near enough on the same level as Vulcanoids, McKenchie looked over his shoulder at his superior officer as he walked down the entry ramp, "Sorry, sir. Just a little concerned about how much damage that storm did to us."
Aldred tipped his head to one side. McKenchie recognized it as an indication of the science officer's curiosity, but it also kind of reminded him of a dog he'd had back in his youth. Yeah, probably best not to mention that, Finley.
Exiting the shuttle and moving around to join him at the open access hatch on the exterior of the Bridger's hull, Aldred looking in and studied for a moment himself. He was one of the only members of the crew who still wore their complete uniform, whereas McKenchie himself was only wearing his open uniform jacket atop the standard-issue vest. 
Guess he must not be feeling the heat like the rest of us. He was more then willing to admit that he didn't know a hell of a lot about the Kravaarians. Just that they were not full members of the Federation, and there were less then a dozen in Starfleet. Aldred himself tended to keep to himself a lot of the time - he was friendly, sure, but he had never gone out of his way to socialize with the rest of the Ascendant crew. 
"What exactly is the damage?" 
Aldred's question brought McKenchie out of his thoughts and back to the matters at hand. "Those dust particles ripped through right here, see?" He pointed with his free hand at some of the severed linkages in the power transfer micro-relays, "I thought the engine intakes were just clogged from all the crap in the air, but this is actually microscopic damage throughout the entire fuel injection system."
Aldred frowned, "Then if the other remaining shuttles are caught within the storm during the evacuation effort, they too will suffer serious damage."
McKenchie nodded with resignation, "Exactly. I'll warn them when I call base-camp to request someone deliver some supplies I need to conduct repairs."
"The land vehicle that you dubbed the Pryce should be able to navigate around the storm and traverse the distance at significant speed without any issues," Aldred replied earnestly. "That is what it was designed for." He stepped back from the open hatch, "Do you have any need of assistance?"
McKenchie shook his head, gesturing at his tricorder, "I'm just waiting for this diagnostic to confirm it, but my gut is telling me I'm going to have to physically check the RCS systems and the exhaust manifolds, just to be safe."
Aldred's head bobbed a few times, "Very well. If you do require my help, please contact me."
Instead of heading back into the shuttle interior, as McKenchie assumed he would, he headed off away from their landing site. "Wait! Where are you going, sir?"
Aldred stopped and turned around to look back at him, "The impact site. I wish to confirm the veracity of the readings I received from the sensors."
"What kind of readings?"
Aldred gave what passed as a shrug for him, a kind of odd shoulder wobble, "I am uncertain. They were very strange. Not at all what I would expect from a meteor. I believe it warrants a closer inspection."
McKenchie wanted to protest. To suggest staying put. But Aldred was his superior officer, and he knew what he was doing. At least, I hope he does. "Be careful."
Aldred blinked in apparent confusion, "Why would I choose not to be, Lieutenant?" 

*             *             *

"You want to do what?"
Given her training as a starship tactical and security specialist, and serving as a Starfleet officer for the better part of 15 years, Myra Shaw had both seen a lot and heard of even more. But the plan that had just been proposed by Carl Kelham took her completely by surprise.
As she started in stupefied amazement at him, the chief engineer reiterated his plan to the assembled senior officers, "I think-- no, scratch that - I know we can create a multiphasic overlapping deflector shield array to protect a major portion of Camp Ascendant."
To a casual listener, T'Mur's voice remained as calm as ever, but Shaw could hear the underlying disbelief in her words, "How do you suggest we achieve this?"
Carl grinned that cocky grin of his, "In what little free time, I've had, I've been working on a couple of personal projects." Myra tried not to squirm. What the hell does his shower have to do with anything right now? Thankfully, she kept her mouth shut, as he quickly continued, "One of those is repairing the two shield generators we salvaged."
He picked up a PADD, using it to pull up a series of schematics on the wall screen. Lots of technical data, that had Shaw a little lost, although she recognized shield emitter diagnostics within the assortment, "By cross-connecting the micro-fusion powers cells we've stockpiled, we'll have enough power to throw up a substantial shield bubble."
T'Mur remained unconvinced, "The power cells are not designed for that kind of use. They would burn out within minutes--"
Kelham slapped his hand against the table, caught up by the fervour of his argument, "Not if we remodulate the shield frequencies, tweak the transfer protocols and carefully monitor and adjust the actual power flow as they operate with minor corrections when we see it's needed."
He left out a frustrated sigh, "Look, I'm not saying to put all our eggs in one basket, okay? We should still use the shuttles to evacuate all non-essential personnel. The less people left behind, the less area I have to project the shield matrix around."
T'Mur silently seemed to be considering his suggestions. Doing that math, maybe? "Your suggestion is not normal Starfleet operating procedure," she finally responded with deliberate caution, "but it has merit."
Shaw blinked in genuine surprise. Wow. High praise indeed! The Vulcan looked to Shaw, "That said, I still advise we do what we can to reduce the area with erect the shield around."
Kelham nodded in agreement, "Yeah, if we leave the escape pods exposed, and round up everyone who stays into a secure location within the saucer, that will help limit the chance of the shields being over-taxed too fast."
He looked at her, eyes wide and frank, "It's your call, Myra."
Shaw considered everything for a long moment. They'd achieved so much, and she didn't want to see it all reduced to scrap by a twist of nature. The truth was, they were not going to be able to get everyone clear before the storm hit. 
She made her decision, "Do it."
There was a moment's silence, then T'Mur pushed herself up, "I will continue to assist Mr, Allen with the evacuation efforts. He should of course be among those we send to the safe zone." 
With the help of her crutch, she made her way out of the Cornwell. Shaw watched after her for a second, before facing Carl again, "How long do you think it will take?"
He frowned, shrugging, "If me and my guys get right into it, we can have them operational within an hour or so."
Shaw winced. That would be cutting it fine. She also knew Kelham wasn't one of those engineers that stretched out their repair estimates. "Are you sure you don't need the shuttles to help reinforce the shield integrity?"
"Need, no? Could use, of course. But like I said, not all eggs in one basket," Kelham answered. He squeezed the bridge of his nose, massaging his eyes. For a moment, Shaw could see how he was now feeling some of the weight he'd unknowingly taken on by suggesting this plan.
It was a feeling she understood. She felt the same weight, if not more, resting on her shoulder all the time of late. 

*             *             *

Curious... Most curious, indeed.
The heat around the impact crater had lessened off significantly. It had meant that Aldred had been able to move signficantly closer to whatever resided in the center of it.
'Whatever' was the appropriate term here, because his analysis had lead him to one inescapable conclusion.
This was not a meteor. It was in fact a space-ship. 
He began a spectral scan of the craft itself, while also running a detailed visual analysis in order to allow the tricorder to run a comparitive reconstruction, to perhaps identify the type of vessel it had once been. 
According to the preliminary scans he'd taken on his perimeter walk, there was a significant content of materials within the crater that were not naturally occuring. Certain polyalloys that suggested it was artificial in construction. It was also relatively small, most probably a single-occupant craft. 
He frowned in annoyance when the tricorder signalled an alert. Something within the polyalloy that made up the ship's hull was causing enough of a degree of interference to obscure his scans. It took only a few minor modifications to the scanning bandwidth to pierce it, thankfully. 
Crystalline-based circuitry. Intriguing! Much more intricate and sophisticated than the isolinear circuitry that was at the core of the starcraft of many current space-faring societies. In fact, the design of the ship reminded him of--
He felt his breath catch in his throat. Quickly, Aldred tapped his tricorder, linking with the database of the Bridger...
...which only confirmed his suspicions. Although the design did not match any of their known craft, there were enough design similarities to confirm it's race of origin.
A race he had never encountered himself, due to their xenophobic policies, but one he had studied extensively due to their unique biology and history with the Federation.
The vessel was Tholian.

To Be Continued...

in

2x02: "Riding The Storm"