Episode 53: "A hostile reunion"

Ensign Katie Zwilling stood quietly on the bridge of the USS Gibraltar. By all accounts and purposes, she was the only *real* remaining Starfleet officer here. All the others were traitors, fugitives, trying to prove a point. Why couldn't they just head back to Starfleet, explain the whole situation? Starfleet would take the so-called clone threat seriously. If there ever was such a thing, of course. She often wondered if McMillan and his crew were really convinced that they didn't destroy the Klingon outpost of the House of Kar'Tog, or if they were just trying to convince her and themselves along with it.

The last few weeks had been difficult for her. She had been abducted by this crew, taken against her will just because she was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Next to that, she had nothing to do here. She was an Admiral's Aide without an Admiral.

She bit her lip. Admiral Delacroix had been a great man. He could have easily become one of Starfleet's highest ranking admirals. He had a bright future in front of him... but sadly that had been taken away by these people. The Admiral had died on an away mission, commanded by Captain McMillan. Why hadn't he died? Why had it be the Admiral? And why had McMillan felt the need to bring the Admiral and Katie herself along on that mission? They could have easily stayed on the ship. Prisoners, sure, but at least they'd be safe. And the Admiral would have been alive.

Now, he was gone, and with him, all of Katie's hopes of getting through this terrible situation. She had never felt more lonely in her life. When would this nightmare be over?

Katie noticed that Ensign Johnson looked at her. She too seemed distracted. Well, she'd better be. She had been in charge of the away team security back when the Admiral died. She had failed, and because of her, Delacroix was dead, and Katie was alone.

In fact, this entire crew was guilty. If they had only put their faith in Starfleet's legal system, none of this would have happened. But no, they had to escape. It was *their* fault that Delacroix had died. It was their fault that Katie was miserable. She hoped that Starfleet would catch up with the Gibraltar sooner rather than later.

At that moment, the Operations console chirped. Ms. Lavecchia looked up and turned to Captain McMillan. "Sir," she reported, "sensors are detecting a Klingon Bird of Prey. . . with an unusual signal."

This seemed to catch the Captain's attention. "Define unusual, Ensign?"

Katie glanced at the young woman at Operations. The Gibraltar crew was made up out of a lot of Ensigns, she realised. And they would remain like that for the rest of their lives, she figured: Starfleet would never promote them. Ever. Not after this.

"It seems to have a Federation warpsignature, Sir." replied Ms. Lavecchia. She seemed confused, which wasn't surprising: Katie had never heard of a Bird of Prey being modified to emit a warpsignature like that.

All of a sudden, she felt hope rise within her. Klingons and Federation. . . that meant that they might be able to apprehend the Gibraltar crew. She glanced at the Captain now, wondering what he would do.

"They're orbiting some sort of asteroid, Sir." came the voice of Ensign Kaleaon, who manned the science station. "It seems they're very interested in it, and. . ." He paused, "Sir, the Bird of Prey just cloaked. I think they moved off."

Captain McMillan stood up and looked at the ship's resident hologram, Lt.Cmdr. Weatherwax. Having a hologram in Starfleet with a rank wasn't exactly unprecedented, but it was still pretty rare to see one of those on board a Federation starship. Katie had never seen one, at least. "Commander, is it possible to get closer to that asteroid, undetected?" McMillan asked.

Weatherwax immediately went to work. "Yes Sir," he said after a few moments, "but it would require that we draw power from various subsystems, including sensors. We might not be able to scan the interior of that asteroid, Sir."

McMillan nodded. "Understood," he said. "Do it."

For a fugitive, McMillan certainly was eager to explore. It seemed as if he and the rest of the Gibraltar crew still didn't realise that they were on the run from Starfleet and the Klingon empire. Katie shook her head at this. Didn't McMillan know that investigating that asteroid would only increase the chances of the Gibraltar being discovered? Ah well, she hoped they *would* be found. Then at least Katie would be able to go home. . .

The transporterbeam brought Captain RoBobby McMillan and his crew into the interiors of the asteroid. It was a strange place, to be certain: McMillan couldn't help but be surprised to see mushrooms and grass growing in a place like this. And there was water too! Perhaps this asteroid had once been a small planet of sorts, and it had held on to the water as it travelled through space.

Still, they weren't here to examine the local fauna. "This way," Ensign Johnson said, taking point, just as McMillan had ordered. The Gibraltar crew had a tendency *not* to stick together, which could lead to fatalities. McMillan tried to keep himself from thinking about the Admiral's death, which happened during one of the away missions he was in charge of. It was something he'd never forget, nor would he forgive himself. He glanced at the Admiral's Aide, who had beamed down too. He knew she was sad. . . but at the moment he couldn't do much about that. Perhaps when they had proven their innocence. . . perhaps then McMillan would be able to tell Zwilling how much he wished that the mission had gone differently. . .

"Come on!" Johnson's voice brought McMillan out of his train of thought. He followed her and the rest of the crew into the water, which at least caused him to focus completely on his surroundings. "This," he whispered, "is cold. . ."

Luckily they could get out of the water soon, since there was a slope, leading up to. . . "Captain, look!" LtCmdr. Weatherwax reported, pointing up. There, in a large section of the asteroid, was the Bird of Prey they had been looking for. 

Almost immediately after that, disruptorbolts flew around the crew, as they instinctively took cover. Before McMillan knew what the hell was going on, someone jumped in front of him. While the rest of his crew returned fire to deal with whomever was attacking them, his own personal assailant raised a bat'leth. . . and brought it down onto its intended target: Captain RoBobby McMillan.

His shouts of pain echoed through the air, as he fell down onto the ground. His leg was broken, that much was certain. But the fight wasn't over yet. This woman who struck him down now raised her Klingon Sword of Honour again, and would soon end his life. All he could do was look up at his would-be executioner.

He then blinked. "Kelly?" he asked. "Kelly Heron?"

This caused his attacker to stop. "How do you know my name?" she asked.

Before McMillan answered, he tried to sit up a bit more. It hurt, significantly, but he tried to ignore it. "Hold your fire!" he shouted as his crew was still defending themselves against the rain of disruptorbolts coming from further up the slope. "Hold your fire!"

The phaserfire and disruptorbolts stopped, at which point McMillan turned to the woman in Klingon armour again. "Kelly, what. . . what's happening?"

Heron frowned and brought her bat'leth closer to McMillan's neck. "I asked you a question, Captain. How do you know my name?"

Ensign Johnson immediately aimed her rifle at Heron. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," she threatened Heron.

But McMillan held up his hand. "Don't fire." It wouldn't do much damage anyway: McMillan knew Kelly Heron. She was. . . special. "Kelly, you were once a member of my crew. We went on many missions together. Don't you remember?"

Heron shook her head, still threatening to kill McMillan with the sharp bat'leth. "Me, on a ship?" she laughed. "No thanks, shiplife is not for me."

McMillan closed his eyes, and sighed. He understood now. "Of course." he said, opening his eyes again. "You're a timetraveller. You were last time we met. That means you are a version of yourself who hasn't met any of us yet." He smiled faintly. Last time Heron was on board the Gibraltar, she sabotaged their attempt to find the USS Caroline, by infecting the ship with tribbles. She had also apologised for breaking McMillan's leg. Now at least the Captain knew what she had meant by that. But while that was in the past for McMillan and the rest of the Gibraltar crew, it was something that still was to come for Kelly.

"How did you know I was with Starfleet temporal investigations?" Heron asked, releasing the grip on her bat'leth. She then looked up at her colleagues, standing up the slope. "Alright, stand down. It seems these people are our friends."

As McMillan stood up, leaning on a rock to avoid putting weight on his broken leg, Heron turned towards the Gibraltar crew again. "So what are you doing here, Captain?"

It was a long story, but McMillan tried to make it as short as possible. He told Heron about the destruction of the Klingon outpost, about the USS Gibraltar apparently being the culprits, about their escape from Starfleet, their status as fugitives, and about how they wanted to prove their innocence. He also told her about their suspicion that it was their clones who were behind this.

"Clones." Heron repeated. "I hate clones." McMillan smiled at this, but Heron continued. "Wait a second, Gibraltar you say? We destroyed a ship called the Gibraltar a while ago, along with two other Starfleet ships guarding a cloning facility. The Ohiom and the Pico were the names of those ships, I believe."

McMillan's smile faded. "You. . . you destroyed clone ships?" Only then did the rest of the news sink in. "Did you just say. . . the Ohiom and the Pico?"

"Sir, the Ohiom is commanded by Captain Estaban." said Johnson quickly. "It's a Galaxy class, and shouldn't be anywhere near here. The Pico's an Intrepid class, like the Gibraltar. But they shouldn't be in this area of space either."

 

McMillan bit his lip. "So they're clones too?" It was hard to believe. Apparently the Gibraltar crew hadn't been the only ones who were cloned. "Kelly, can you point us to the location of the destroyed cloning facility?"

Heron smiled. "I can do more than that. I can give you all the sensor readings we made, along with some personal cloaking devices and more things that go boom."

Despite the situation, McMillan smiled for a second. This was definitely Kelly Heron. "Any help you can offer, would be appreciated."

Once the crew got back on board the Gibraltar, McMillan sat down in his chair. Sure, his leg was still broken, and would need to be healed soon, but his presence was needed at the Bridge now. "Helm," he said, "lay in a course to the coordinates Kelly gave us." It was a shame Kelly and her Bird of Prey couldn't come along. . . but they had other things to do. And who knew, they might run into her again, soon.

But for now, they needed to thwart whatever plan it was that the clones had created. It wasn't just their good name that was on the line. . . it was the security of the entire Federation.

With this in mind, McMillan leaned back into his chair. Yes, they were fugitives, but at least fugitives with a mission. A very important mission. One that they would complete, no matter what the cost.

"Engage."