Episode 46: "Missing"

Odd was one word to describe it. Strange, was another. McMillan glanced at the empty seat at the Helm, now taken by Mr. Actor, and the chair at the tactical station. Lieutenant Desade and Ensign Debbydo had not reported in for duty this morning. That was *not* like them. They were usually well on time. Sure, they had reported going down to the surface of this planet to visit an Irish Pub that had just opened, and the Captain knew full well what alcohol did to one's sleeping pattern, but even then they would have responded to the Bridge crew trying to contact them. They hadn't.

"Try again." McMillan said to his XO, feeling more and more ill at ease with this whole situation.

Braveheart nodded and tapped his commbadge once again. "This is the Bridge to Lieutenant Desade and Ensign Debbydo. Come in please."

No response. Again.

This just wasn't like them. "Ensign Johnson, run a scan of the planet surface." McMillan ordered. "See if they're down there."

"Aye Sir." came the response, before Johnson turned to the Gibraltar's resident hologram. "Rich, can you give me more power?"

Richardjrn Weatherwax grinned. "I'll transfer auxiliary power to the sensors, that should help."

"Thanks Feathers," Johnson responded, before going back to work. Something was going on between the two of them, that much was obvious. Now Captain McMillan wasn't all that strict about banning relationships between crewmembers, as long as they just did their jobs. Fortunately, Weatherwax and Johnson didn't seem to have any problem keeping their minds of the job.

"No sign of them Sir," Johnson said after a while. "I did find the shuttle they went down in: it's standing next to the Irish Pub."

"Alright then." Something had happened to both officers, and McMillan needed to find out what. "It's time we paid a visit to that pub."

 

It didn't take long for the Gibraltar's away team to be standing inside the pub, armed to the teeth. A while back, McMillan would have found it unnecessary to come in this hot. Nevertheless, the last few missions they'd been on had required them to be armed. He wouldn't get caught off-guard again. Not anymore. If the price of vigilance was a few armed people, then so be it.

 

However, today he could have just left the weapons at home. There was nobody here at this Pub. No sign that Desade and Debbydo had been here. Nothing. Not even a...

"Sir!" came the call from Lieutenant Weatherwax. "Over here, you'd better see this."

 

"What is it Lieutenant?" McMillan queried as he followed the hologram behind the bar. And there he saw it. It was a Klingon Bat'leth: a Klingon's weapon of choice. Sharp, strong, deadly. It definitely *wasn't* McMillan's preferred weapon. Too bloody.

Speaking of blood. . . "Oh no." Braveheart stated as he scanned the weapon. "No, no no!" Something had really spooked him. "Sir, there's blood on the weapon. It's. . . It's Lieutenant Desade's!"

Chief Medical Officer Talax was brought in, and he confirmed Braveheart's findings. This, McMillan knew, wasn't good. Klingons, attacking Desade? Had Ensign Debbydo been there too?

Speculations ensued, but McMillan's mind wasn't really in it. At least one of his officers had been attacked by Klingons. . . perhaps taken away too. But why? What would the Klingons have to gain from attacking Starfleet Officers?

This, he vowed to himself, he'd find out. When they'd get back up to the Gibraltar, he'd have a talk with the planet's government. If there *had* been a Klingon ship here, at least they would know about it. And then the Gibraltar would pursue. Because one way or another, he'd get his officers back.