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Posted on 27 Sep 2025 @ 12:31pm by Commodore Harvey Geisler & Commander Terry Walsh & Commander John Reynolds & Lieutenant Commander Joey Geisler & Lieutenant Commander Camila Di Pasquale & Lieutenant Commander Kennedy Monroe M.D. & Lieutenant Ranul Frex & Lieutenant T’Mari Rael

5,435 words; about a 27 minute read

Mission: Imposters Among Us
Location: Auxiliary Control
Timeline: July 8, 2390 || 0800 hours

Harvey literally could not remember the last time he called for general quarters in advance of an emergency. One could argue that it was a benefit of his young age and incomplete memories, but the simple truth was that most of his summons to stations were largely reactionary. Over the last few hours, Harvey had remained awake in the Ready Room, pouring over his past logs. He carefully reviewed each after-action report from the search and rescue at Starbase Unity, the engagement with Kelinor, each milestone inside the Convergence Zone, the fight over Deep Space 15, the entire Consortium engagement, and even the spat with the Syndicate in orbit of Nestene IX.

His review hadn't stopped there as he dug into Harvey's life before the Gamma Quadrant, starting with the Schuster all the way back to the Andrews during the Dominion War. While he did not possess the memories, it seemed that there were fragments, little tidbits tucked into the real Harvey's day-to-day life. Each moment had shaped the Commodore into who he was today, and the reason why a facsimile occupied the chair without anyone's knowledge.

Strangely, Harvey felt confident not just in the Confederation's ability to allow a moment of controlled hope for Starfleet, but he also felt confident in the crew of the Black Hawk. It was an odd feeling, this split loyalty and admiration. What Harvey lacked confidence in, however, was this impending fight. He knew Joey had tipped off the Confederation, but he did not know what would await them. Would the phantom ship be offered as a sacrifice? Would there be an ambush? Or, would they find that the asteroid field would be abandoned with only skeletons left behind?

"Two minutes until arrival!" called out the helmsman.

Harvey stiffened in his chair. Two minutes until answers would be revealed.

Having returned to quarters once Delta shift had arrived it had taken T’Mari a while to get off to sleep even though she was tired. Now she was feeling even more tired as she stifled a yawn where she sat. One thing was certain she was going to get to bed early this evening in order to catch up.

"Two minutes," echoed John, standing at a console behind the Captain. "All stations report. Are we ready?"

Joey was nervous and beyond exhausted. Yes, she'd tipped off the Confederation, even done what she could to sabotage the tricobalts in a way that would point the finger at others that were present when the configuration had taken place, but even she didn't know what was awaiting them in two minutes time. A shaky breath left her as her gaze moved from the display before her to Harvey and John. "Intelligence is ready and waiting."

If it had been possible, which it hadn't been, Camila would have settled down to sleep beside of the tricobalt on the Black Hawk, and found a way to be on the other two ships as well despite the assurances of their Captain's that all was well at every check-in during Gamma Shift or the five cups of Raktajino that she had had. .Now, she was more tired and sat up even straighter as her eyes scanned every sensor and every bit of information that scrolled over her console. She didn't know when or where G90B would be, or if there would be any sign of them at the refinery, but she hoped for the chance to hit them hard again. "Security is ready. Commodore," she said.

Over at the Engineering station, Ranul clearly had bags under his eyes, as he hadn't been able to get much sleep at all. He had a mug of semi-warm coffee nearby, which was half empty. But, it wasn't doing much for him, as he was yawning while he was putting in some information to make sure that the Black Hawk herself was good. Looking over at the Commodore, Ranul said, "It looks like we are good too go here, sir. Engineering reports that the damage we sustained from the last attack has been repaired. We should be good to go at whatever speed you need us to."

“Sickbay is green across the board, sir,” Kennedy reported. She had tried to get a few hours sleep, but she was restless and eventually gave up. The significance of what they were about to do weighed heavy upon her and while she wouldn’t consider herself a pessimistic person, life experiences had made her more of a realist.

"Approaching destination!" announced the helmsman. "Three... two..."

Harvey didn't hear the final number. Instead, he leaned forward as the viewscreen traded warp trails for an asteroid field. The field was dense, filled with a number of spatial bodies three times as large as a Galaxy-class ship. Caution would be required for all whom entered, and for one, Harvey was thankful that he did not have to be first.

"Sensors to maximum!" he called out. "Take immediate note of blind or difficult spots. Miss Di Pasquale... send in the first wave."

"Di Pasquale to Group One, proceed with attack formation Alpha," Camila sent the signal the other Captains.

The asteroid field loomed like a shattered planet, its fragments drifting in chaotic ballet, some rivaling the USS Challenger in mass. The USS Deliverance darted ahead, weaving through the debris with precision, its sensors straining to isolate the elusive G90B from the cold stone giants. Brandenburg held back, calibrating torpedo trajectories with surgical intent, while Valhalla flanked wide, its nimble frame skimming past jagged rock to probe for weaknesses. Challenger moved deliberately, its shield matrix pulsing outward to buffer the squadron against ricocheting debris and sudden ambush. The objective was clear: soften G90B’s defenses without direct confrontation, force it to reveal itself through pressure and precision.

Deliverance’s threat tracking pinged anomalous movement deep within the field, prompting Brandenburg to unleash a coordinated barrage. The torpedoes detonated in a staggered pattern, sending shockwaves through the asteroid cluster and triggering a cascade of collisions. Valhalla surged forward, exploiting the chaos to pepper suspected hiding zones with fast-response fire. But the enemy remained unseen. Then, without warning, Deliverance’s hull was breached by a kinetic strike—no visual confirmation, no energy signature. Systems failed in rapid succession, and the Saber-class scout drifted, disabled, its last transmission a garbled warning. The squadron tightened formation, tension mounting as Brandenburg recalibrated for a second wave.

Challenger’s shield harmonics began to destabilize under sustained pressure from the field’s shifting mass, and just as Brandenburg initiated its next offensive cycle, G90B struck. A massive asteroid, seemingly inert, erupted with energy—G90B had fused itself to the rock, hiding in plain sight. A beam of concentrated polaron lanced through Brandenburg’s midsection, severing its core systems before the Sovereign-class vessel could retaliate. It exploded in a silent bloom of fire and metal, scattering debris across the field. Valhalla veered hard, engines flaring, as Challenger absorbed the shock with a final surge of shielding. The hunt had turned into survival. G90B was exposed, but the cost had been steep.

Camila was struck with a sense of dread as G90B attacked with the speed and stealth of a Klingon Cob'lat and tore the Brandenburg in half with a single shot. Her face paled and her fingers stuttered on the console as she fought for a secondary plan with the next wave that she was about to be ordered to send to their doom. "Reports incoming!"

"Tactical plot on screen with report overlays!" he called out. Within moments, that information appeared. Harvey launched immediately out of the chair and advanced behind the helm so he could read the data more clearly. The reports themselves were limited, especially with how well G90B had hid themselves. But what was clear was that the enemy vessel sported poor patchwork on its starboard side. This was certainly the same vessel that the Valcour collided with a week ago.

The Commodore smiled, genuinely impressed with G90B's swiftness. Even damaged, his comrades were fierce and unforgiving fighters.

"Send in the next wave," Harvey ordered.

Once again, Camila sent the command and held her breath as her eyes locked on the sensor readouts.

The asteroid field had grown darker, denser—its silence now laced with the memory of Brandenburg’s destruction. USS Nelson took point, its threat monitoring array sweeping the debris for any flicker of G90B’s signature. USS Pinnacle moved into position, its massive frame absorbing ambient radiation and stray impacts, creating a protective corridor for the incoming strike team. USS Endurance held back, its targeting systems locked onto the coordinates Nelson had flagged—an anomaly in the asteroid’s magnetic field, likely G90B’s new hiding spot.

USS Perseus initiated multi-vector assault protocol, splitting into three sleek, autonomous attack units. Each vector curved through the field like a predator, approaching from divergent angles to box in the target. Nelson fed real-time telemetry to Endurance, which adjusted firing solutions to mask Perseus’s approach. Pinnacle’s shields flared as a Polaron beam lanced out from the asteroid cluster, narrowly missing Vector Two. The beam’s origin confirmed G90B’s location, and the coordinated signal was sent. Vector Three accelerated, its payload armed: a tricobalt warhead tuned to the structural weakness identified by Nelson’s early probes.

The warhead launched with a sharp pulse, streaking toward the asteroid’s surface where G90B had embedded itself. But instead of penetrating, the tricobalt device struck the hull and ricocheted—its casing skimming the surface like a stone across water. It detonated a moment later, just beside the target, unleashing a blinding cascade of blue-white energy that lit up the surrounding field in stark relief. Asteroids tumbled outward from the shockwave, casting long shadows across the fractured battlefield. G90B remained obscured, its form momentarily silhouetted against the blast—massive, angular, and disturbingly silent. The squadron held position, waiting for the dust to settle, knowing the next move would be decisive.

Joey kept her posture a bit tense at the Intelligence station for appearances sake, her eyes locked on the blast signature. The tricobalt warhead had veered off course—just as she’d intended. Now, instead of piercing G90B’s hull, the warhead had skipped across the surface detonating nearby.

Sabotage was a delicate art—and Joey was painting in strokes no one could see.

Ranul was working his magic, making sure that he could gather as much sensor information about what was going on as he could. He watched as the first tricobolt device bounced off the G90B and flew clear of it. He wanted to know what happened and why it happened. "It should have WORKED!" is all that Ranul could think to himself.

There was no way that it should have bounced off of G90B, Camila wanted to scream as she came to her feet, her face drained of color as she stared at the readouts. Something had to have gone horribly wrong on top of going horribly wrong. Someone was going to pay.

T’Mari could only watch as things went pear shaped with the tricobalt, the shock amongst those who’d dealt with it with obvious.

Still reeling from the loss of life, they’d already witnessed, Kennedy watched in disbelief and felt the blood drain from her face as she watched the tricobalt weapon skim off its target. How the hell did that happen?

Harvey smirked, subconsciously taking advantage of his position just behind the helm where no one could see his reaction. They only had three shots and the first had missed, detonating behind G90B. His grin slowly faded once he realized that the accident had an alarming side effect. In the distance, the shadowy silhouette took on a brownish form, its sleekness somehow evaporating.

The Commodore glanced at the reports and telemetry coming in from the ships inside the asteroid field. Data that was unavailable before was now pouring in. Complete hull compositions, interior scans, a number of lifeforms.

For the first time since this all began... the curtain had been torn. G90B was fully exposed.

And they knew it. The cornered G90B vessel opened fire anew, revealing concealed turrets and launchers.

Harvey did not rally as fast as his brethren. Behind him, proximity alarms began to sound. A second later, the floor underneath his feet lurched. The Black Hawk was nowhere near the action, but clearly someone had called for reinforcements. "Evasive action!" he shouted, unable to pick a defensive maneuver from his limited memory. "Alpha... Five! Damage report!"

"Shields down to 85%. Hull integrity appears to be holding, but there is some scarring along the hull from the polaron weapons. But, it also appears that we've got some more information about the hull composition and layouts of the G90B from the first two attack wings we sent in. If Camila or Joey and I can work together really quick, we might be able to get our weapons better tuned to penetrating their shielding," Ranul said, looking over some of the sensor information that was starting to trickle in.

Camila sat back down as the ship shuddered and she scanned the new reports coming in. "One...two...three...there more contacts. One smaller than G90B and two hunters. G90B is taking hits now. Incoming!" She called off report after report as she swapped to the Tactical station and began to return photon torpedo and phaser fire at the new targets. Her mind was in such a state of chaos that she wasn't even waiting for a guaranteed lock on one of them before she was sending a deadly strike at them.

The floor lurched again as the ship took fire from the Hunter vessels. "Get us out of their firing patterns!" Harvey ordered the helmsman. Logically, it made sense to return fire, but Harvey was not keen on firing on the attackers, not when he would later have to serve beside them when this was all over. "Someone with eyes out there tell me what's going on!"

Three vessels burst from the shadows—one a G90B cruiser, bristling with Polaron emitters and hull plating that shimmered with residual energy from the earlier blast. Though smaller than the wounded behemoth encountered earlier, it was no less formidable, slicing through the asteroid dust like a blade. Flanking it were two Hunter-class ships, agile and aggressive, their hulls scarred with plasma scoring and jagged insignia. They surged toward Group Three with brutal coordination, targeting Dauntless’s exposed vector and Vadess’s relay node.

Dauntless had just launched its tricobalt payload, programmed to strike deep within the asteroid field and detonate near the G90B cruiser’s projected position. But the warhead veered off course—whether due to gravitational interference or sensor jamming was unclear—and detonated harmlessly against a distant asteroid cluster. The shockwave lit up the field in a brilliant flare, scattering debris but failing to damage the enemy. The ambush was no longer theoretical—it was live.

Vadess spun hard, its Saber-class frame nimble enough to dodge the first barrage. But a focused plasma strike from one of the Hunters compromised its relay systems, severing its telemetry link with the rest of the fleet. Nogura responded instantly, deploying a defensive screen that absorbed the incoming fire and returned a spread of photon torpedoes toward the cruiser’s flank. The G90B vessel absorbed the impact, its shields flickering but holding.

Dauntless reassembled into primary configuration, its phasers lancing out in a wide arc to scatter the Hunters and buy precious seconds for Vadess to reroute its scan protocols. The Hunters regrouped quickly, their tactics ruthless—one locked onto Nogura’s ventral shield array while the other began a flanking maneuver toward Dauntless’s aft impulse engines.

Group Three tightened formation. USS Vadess, though damaged, reestablished partial relay function and began feeding targeting data manually. Nogura shifted to a counteroffensive posture, launching a precision torpedo volley that clipped the lead Hunter’s port nacelle. Dauntless surged forward, its phasers carving through the dust and striking the second Hunter mid-dive, forcing it to break off and retreat behind a drifting asteroid.

The G90B cruiser pressed its advantage, firing a sustained Polaron burst toward Vadess’s weakened flank. But Dauntless intercepted, its shielding flaring as it absorbed the blast and returned fire with a concentrated phaser burst that scorched the cruiser’s dorsal plating. Nogura looped wide, drawing fire away from the others and forcing the enemy into a tighter formation.

Camila called off reports as she tried to keep coordination of the battle with the new attackers, the screen lit up with the battle and ships tagged with Starfleet or enemy markers. "The second tricobalt failed, Commodore," she said, disbelieving it. There was no way it could happen twice. None. It had to be sabotage or the worst luck in the universe. "Damage reports coming in from the Group Three!"

She fired another volley of torpedoes at G90B and engaged one of the Hunter's with scathing phaser fire from the Black Hawk's aft banks as the helm swung the ship around.

Joey steadied herself as the Black Hawk pitched under the Hunter’s barrage, her fingers dancing across her console with practiced ease. The second tricobalt had failed, but she didn’t flinch. She didn’t need to.

She’d had little time to “update” the warhead’s guidance protocols. A few lines of code, buried deep in the targeting logic, just enough to nudge the payload off course. The only proof would be destroyed with the tricobalts, but this was even better than she could have hoped for.

“Telemetry shows a guidance drift,” she said, eyes scanning the data, still running on fumes. “Could be magnetic distortion from the asteroid field. Or residual interference from the earlier detonation. I’ll run a diagnostic on the payload logs.”

Watching the way that the G90B were hitting the fleet, Ranul watched as the various ships were being pounded on. Thinking back to when he was a cadet back at the Academy, he thought about some of the ways that ships helped to beat some enemies. Some big moments that came up were stuff like the Picard maneuvers, some of the stuff the Maquis used, and several other moments throughout Starfleet and Federation History.

Feeding some information into his console, Ranul looked back at the Commodore and said, "Sir, I think I might have an idea about how to get the G90B to back off what remains of our fleet. I can implant a ghost image onto the sensor grid and make it look like we've got more ships coming in. It might give the G90B something else to fire at the very least. It shouldn't take me too long to set up, if I can get permission, sir."

Harvey steadied himself as he watched the Nogura take a direct hit from the G90B cruiser on the saucer and port nacelle, both of which disintegrated before his very eyes. "Whatever it takes to stop this!"

Camila winced when she saw the Nogura took a hit and fought for options among her tactical solutions, looking for G90B and where Group One and Two were. She spotted the Endurance on the edge of the battle and came up with an idea. "Commodore, have Captain Holmes fire one of his tricobalts," she said as she sent another volley of torpedoes and phaser fire at the cruiser. "We're getting slaughtered and I no longer trust our remaining tricobalt."

The faux Commodore's confidence was shaken. He thought he had steeled himself for this conflict, and whatever nervous tics the memory transfer had provided were not supplemented with a natural resolve. It took everything in Harvey's power to hold the facade together, and it was desperation that caused him to approve every suggestion that was thrown his way. "Send the order!"

Joey’s stomach tightened the moment Camila’s voice cut through the chaos: “Have Captain Holmes fire one of his tricobalts.”, then a wave of nausea hit when Harvey gave the order as her fingers froze on her console, dread slowly creeping in. That warhead was clean. Untouched. If it hit, it would prove the others should have hit too. The failures wouldn’t look random anymore. They’d look engineered.

She kept her face composed, but inside, her thoughts raced. Okay. Think. If it hits, I need a reason it didn’t before. If it misses, I need to make sure it looks like the field caused it.

She scanned the asteroid cluster near G90B’s position, searching for anything—gravitational drift, magnetic anomalies, radiation spikes. Anything she could use to muddy the waters. Her eyes landed on a dense pocket of charged debris drifting between Holmes' ship and the target.

Perfect.

She flagged it in the system and looked to Camila. “Suggest Holmes adjust for distortion in sector 4-Gamma,” she said, her tone helpful, professional. “Telemetry’s showing unstable particle density—could affect guidance.”

She wasn’t stopping the launch. She was shaping the story around it. If the warhead missed, she’d reinforce the interference narrative. If it hit, she’d start planting doubts about whether the previous targets were ever viable to begin with.

Joey glanced at the faux Commodore, then at Camila, then back to her console. The battle raged outside, but her war was quieter—fought in whispers, in data, in the space between orders.

T’Mari was fighting fatigue as much as the onslaught of the crew’s high emotions, she was sensing high yet controlled emotion from Joey’s direction, but she wasn't sure whether that was anything particular to worry about given the current situation. She gazed in her direction for a few moments before looking away again.

Ranul input some commands into his console after hearing the go ahead from the Commodore. He implanted several ghosts onto the sensors to make it look like there was more starships coming in for the Federation than there were of the G90B. Hopefully, between that and one of the last tricobolt devices, it would be enough for the remainder of the fleet to get their hightails out of there mostly intact.

"Copy that, Commander," Camila said to Joey before she transmitted the message to the Captain of the Endurance and desperately hoped that his tricobalt would work. "Message received," She said as she configured another firing solution and tapped her combadge. "DI Pasquale to Lieutenant Mitchell. Report to torpedo bay five and retrieve the tricobalt from the launcher. Secure it in the Armory under armed guard at all times.

"I'm on it," Shay confirmed, then went to carry out her orders.


===[USS Endurance]===

Captain Holmes received the message from the USS Black Hawk and laughed. "So, Commodore Geisler needs our help, does he?" He nearly cackled. "Load up the Grahamcracker!" He ordered the Chief of Security on the bridge, his name for the tricobabalt. "We're going to light them up and screw what their Intelligence says!"

Captain Graham “Grahamhole” Holmes stood firm at the helm of the USS Endurance, his Sovereign-class vessel slicing through the void with calculated aggression. The ship emerged from the edge of the field with a thunderous ripple, already locked into offensive maneuver Delta-Seven, its sleek hull glinting against the backdrop of a fractured asteroid field.

Holmes’ voice was calm but razor-sharp as the USS Endurance unleashed a barrage of precision phaser fire, strafing the flanks of the G90B cruiser with surgical intensity. quantum torpedoes followed in a synchronized arc, detonating with a brilliant blue flare that sent shockwaves through the formation of two Hunter-class ships flanking the cruiser.

As the enemy regrouped, Holmes narrowed his gaze, reading the tactical display like a symphony conductor scanning sheet music. “Target their core and show them why I'm called Grahamhole,” he ordered, his voice low and final. “Fire Grahamcracker.” The command echoed across the bridge, and within seconds, the *Endurance* launched its most devastating payload—an eruption of raw destructive force hurtling toward the heart of the enemy line, promising obliteration with the elegance only Captain Holmes could orchestrate.


===[USS Black Hawk]===

Harvey watched the viewscreen in horror as the tricobalt struck the G90B cruiser. Even though it hadn't been modified, the device struck the hull and exploded brilliantly. Energy rippled over the cruiser's hull with characteristics much like the wounded dreadnought. Its glistening form turned to a dull color, and moments later, it exploded in a brilliant flash of light. The two vessels escorting the cruiser soon turned to flee.

"Let them go!" Harvey ordered, partly defending his brethren, and the other part remembering their actual mission here. The last thing he needed was for those ships to be destroyed, or worse -- captured. "They're not why we're here. Bring us about, and let's focus on the dreadnaught."

The helmsman swung the Black Hawk around just in time for Groups One and Two to intensify their attack.

Joey watched the explosion unfold on the viewscreen, the brilliant flash of the G90B’s destruction searing into her memory. Her breath caught—not from awe, but from the weight of consequence. They’d talked about sacrificing the cruiser, yes. Strategized around it. But seeing it torn apart so violently, so absolutely, stirred something deeper than tactical regret.

How many lives were aboard? she wondered, her stomach tightening. How many didn’t know they were expendable?

She clenched her jaw, trying to push the guilt aside. There had been no good options. But that didn’t make the loss easier to swallow.

Her thoughts drifted—the Black Hawk. The tricobalt device still aboard. Untouched. Undetonated. She’d buried her sabotage deep, masked it, covered her tracks with layers of misdirection and shielding. She even went so far as to frame their Chief Engineer. But now, watching Holmes unleash his payload with reckless bravado, she felt a flicker of doubt.

Did I hide it well enough?

She glanced at Harvey, his focus locked on the dreadnought, his command crisp and composed. She envied that clarity. Right now, her mind was a storm—loss, fear, and the gnawing uncertainty of what might still go wrong.

Joey straightened, forcing herself to stay sharp. Their mission wasn’t over. There was still hope. And if her secrets unraveled, the Confederation would be standing on borrowed time.

It was a success! Camila wanted to shout and jump out of her seat. "The Pinnacle and Endurance are going after the Hunters," she reported. "The cruiser has been destroyed. Sensors are tracking G90B and reports are coming in."

Meanwhile, the Galaxy and Sovereign class heavy hitters worked to disable the weapons and engines of the Hunters as they hounded them in the asteroid field before sending boarding parties over.

T’Mari was sensing a whole host of emotions from all of the crew, but odd sensations from the direction of Joey made her look across yet again. Given the intensity of the battle it wasn’t surprising, plus T’Mari was tired which didn't help with her control over her senses. She looked away again refocussing on the matters at hand.

On the viewscreen, the image shifted from the Hunters that were being chased by the heavy hitters to the firefight deep in the asteroid field. The wounded G90B dreadnaught had been cornered by Groups One and Two, and was unleashing every single weapon it had to ward off the swarm.

It was Vector Three off the USS Perseus that delivered the lethal blow when she delivered a volley of three quantum torpedos into the dreadnaught's starboard engine. Cracks stretched across the dreadnaught's hull, and smaller explosions flung debris and organic matter out from inside the ship. The dreadnaught's weapons fell silent, and what external lights had been illuminated shone no more.

Harvey stood behind the helm, clasping his hands together to hide the fact that he was trembling. This was not how this battle was supposed to go. He had hoped that his G90B brethren would have crippled Starfleet and paved the way for Confederation success. But it was the opposite. Starfleet had taken losses, yes, but the Confederation had suffered a heavy cost in the process.

He was left with only one option, keep his head down until new orders came in.

Without turning to face the bridge crew, he called out, "Damage report. And a status report on all Starfleet ships."

"The USS Brandenburg and USS Nogura were both destroyed. The Deliverance is dead in space. The Dauntless and Valdess both took heavy damage. Our shields are holding at sixty-five percent," Camila read off the numbers in an emotionless voice. Inside, she was boiling. "G90B was destroyed and the Hunters disabled. The rest of the task force is regrouping."

She wanted to leave the tactical station and head to the Armory to exam that tricobalt and began to look around the small auxiliary bridge. Was it Frex, who was so eager to help? She turned her attention to the Science Chief. Was it Ryler, who seemed to have the information before she had even asked for it? She looked at Joey, a person she considered a friend. Could she have been compromised? Who did it? Why did they do it?

Unfortunately, she didn't have answers and the Federation had a low view on torture or any form of ruthless interrogation. however, there were non-invasive measures, such as a neural scan from a simple medical tricorder and the help of the ship's counselor. She looked at T'Mari and wondered what the woman was feeling the most and from who at the moment.

Frex started to take an inventory of their own damages and assess about how long it would take to fix everything up. As of that moment, the Black Hawk wasn't in too bad of shape. Looking between his console and the Commodore, Ranul said, "It looks like we aren't in too bad of shape. Our shields shields took a brunt of the beating and we're sitting around 45% on the shields. The hull didn't take on much more than some thermal damages. I think we got out of it pretty well. We should have the shields back up to full strength within about 2-3 hours."

"You've got one," Harvey swiftly to the engineer, his tone more than curt. These reinforcements for G90B had appeared out of nowhere. and if they'd done it once, they could do it again. "Miss Di Pasquale, find out what happened to those tri-cobalts. And let's deploy Belvedere throughout the field. Let's get an early warning system going in case anyone decides to show up."

"Yes, Commodore," Camila said as she once more glanced at Frex, Ryler and Joey. Who did it and why? She sent the orders to the rest of the fleet and hoped against hope that they could take some of the enemy alive. When that was done, she exchanged her station with the Tactical officer on duty and headed to fulfill the Commodore's orders and her own burning need to know.

Joey watched as Camila left, doing her best to keep the nausea she felt at bay. Her mind whirled as she contemplated the possibilities of what was going to happen next. Regardless of what came, she would do her level best to be as prepared for it as she could be.

Harvey exchanged a glance with Joey before returning to the seat in the center of the bridge. They truly were in uncharted and planned territory. This hadn't gone like he'd expected, and he was sure that G90B felt the same. For now, this meant that Starfleet would start to clean up the mess in this system, a prime distraction that would allow all parties to figure out their next steps. Harvey hoped that this also would give Joey and himself the time they would need to come up with a new plan, one that would get them out from under Starfleet's scrutiny. The longer this group was together, the greater chance they had to figure this all out.

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