<<Stardate: 47307. 16- 14:30>>

<<Mess Hall- Deck 10>>

Epic Terrakian stepped from the turbolift and stopped. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to be feeling, but he felt nothing. Two days ago, he had intuited that Zebediah Cochran was his father. Two minutes ago, he had witnessed the mans death certificate with his signature.

The act meant nothing to him. Actually, the man meant nothing to him. He thought that it should, but Epic Terrakian had never been one to impose conventionality on himself. If he was going to feel anything, he would feel it. And, if not, then he wouldn't.

There would be a service for the Captain in Shuttlebay 4 tonight at 22:00. Perhaps then, surrounded by others who might feel something for the suddenly deceased man, he would feel something, too.

And if he didn't, he wouldn't. Simple as that.

The man had contracted Iversons disease over a year ago while on tour aboard the Magellan. The Chief Medical Officer had agreed to allow Cochran to hide the fact. Epic shook his head. Such a doctor should never have been permitted to serve aboard a starship, but Epic conceded that there may have been special and extenuating circumstances that provoked the deception.

Epic shrugged. He would never know, now. Any more than he would ever know why Zebediah Cochran had taken his bastard son and thrust him into the command of a doomed mission. The man had had a reason. Cochran was not a fool. But, the reason died with him.

Epic considered the mans words to him only yesterday. `It might only be spite that causes you to succeed... ' Coming from a man he had never met, the statement told of the mans intimate knowledge of the son he had never spoken to.

Iversons disease. There was no known cure. It was a disease that attacked the muscles, often causing severe palsy leading to paralysis and ultimately death. But, for Cochran, the largest part of his musculature was spared the ravages of the disease. Except his heart. The heart was the one muscle it attacked with vigor. And now, the father of Epic Terrakian was dead.

And, now, Epic Terrakian was Captain.

He considered that once Starfleet received the news, within 24 hours by subspace communication, they might recall the Grail, but he didn't think they would. They were a long way off now, and that meant a significant headstart on their ultimate objective. Find the Voyager.

Now, because of the responsibility of his new position, he had to find a suitable replacement for himself. He supposed Lt. Commander Corvette Hunt was the next logical choice, but he never really considered it for more than a second. For one, he needed Hunt where he was. The man practically ran the ship as it was. And he did it because he was unshackled by any responsibility to the crew. His responsibility was to the ship. And he took those responsibilities very seriously.

Lt. Commander Janice Hargen was the next reasonable choice. However, again, she was needed where she was. To be certain, Lt. Kaitlyn Brennan would serve admirably as Chief Engineer. She showed strength of character, an obvious talent, and natural leadership. But, at the heart of it, Epic was not certain Janice Hargen would want the job. Epic certainly couldn't sense any of her feelings empathetically, but he felt sure that if Janice was not elbow deep in grease, she would be miserable.

And, then... who? It had come to Epic when he was reading the `For Captains Eyes Only' files that Cochran had downloaded the access codes for. Epic was surprised to see them in his personal files. Cochran had downloaded them only minutes before his death. That had struck Epic as strange, and he had ordered a full autopsy, which had yet to be concluded. But all evidence seemed to suggest no foul play.

Zebediah Cochran had died of massive cardiac arrest attributed to advanced Iversons disease.

And he knew it was going to happen.

It didn't matter now. Epic still had a job to do and a job to fill. He turned toward the Mess Hall and squared his shoulders. He had to conscript his replacement. The replacement that had all but fallen right into his lap.

The doors to the Mess Hall, opposite the 10-Forward lounge, shushed open. The familiar sounds of clatter met him. There were more than a hundred present, and Epic turned to see Yeoman Vincent Rogers working frantically to keep up with the demand.

Epic couldn't isolate the mans emotional state in a place full of people, but from the look on the younger mans face, Rogers seemed to be enjoying himself. And despite the crushing responsibilities of a starship Captain, Epic was thankful that he didn't have that mans job. He was certain exhaustion would have claimed him in a week.

It didn't take long to spot his quarry. She sat alone. He wasn't certain that it was because the rest of the crew were particularly avoiding her. It seemed that it may have been her choice. She was the only one wearing the green uniform of a Federation Marine. To her, there was no one here worthy to share her bench. All the Marines on this ship were `on ice'.

Almost to a man, everyone turned to watch the progress of Commander `Dracula' as he crossed the room. His moniker took on a new dimension as the crew noted that he did not wear the accepted red and slate gray uniform. Epic Terrakians uniform was all black. From the trim on his collar to the high shine of his boots... Black. Only the pips at his throat were contrasting. They winked a polished gold, the fourth pip still dark. He was not Captain yet, not until Starfleet issued those orders.

Lt. Major Athalya Anne Brinn watched him approach also. She showed no expression at all. That was good. The last time he had looked into those eyes, he had seen pity. Pity for him. It made him.... uncomfortable.

Despite her youthful complexion, the El Aurian Marine was 91 years old. She had over 60 years of life experience over himself, and she had seen more action than anyone on this ship. As a facilitator, she surpassed even him. As a leader, well... As a leader, she would become great. Given time.

She said nothing as he stopped before her table. Without invitation, Epic sat.

"As all are aware... ", Epic started without even a nod or a smile of preamble. ".. Captain Cochran is dead. "

Athalya Anne Brinn nodded gravely. Epic looked down at her half eaten steak. It looked delicious, and the savory aroma started his stomach growling.

"I am the acting Captain until conflicting orders are dictated by Starfleet. My name is Epic Terrakian. "

If the name meant anything to Brinn, it certainly didn't show on her face.

"I have submitted your name as my chosen replacement as Executive Officer of this vessel. Your experience as a facilitator is superior to all aboard, including mine. I need you. It is that simple. I expect you to assume the role immediately, again, until conflicting orders are issued by Starfleet. "

The stunned silence that Athalya Anne Brinn displayed was all Epic could sense' from her. Emotionally, she was sealed tighter than a drum.

Epic was a powerful empath, even if he was a little weak in the telepathy department. He knew the difference between no emotional response, and the deliberate and active resistance to his powers. Athalya Anne Brinn had shields that Epic was certain he could never punch through.

"Major, there are one thousand Marines in cryostasis buried in the bowels of this ship. Their complete dossiers are at your disposal. I want you to resuscitate a few officers to fulfill your needs in this office, and I want a platoon available immediately. After this conversation, I will be standing down from Red Alert, maintaining Yellow Alert status until such time as we have completed a scan of the surrounding space.

"It is my intention to launch a trio of Runabouts, and a pair of shuttles, to form a network of tachyon streams. We will complete a limited-scope tachyon grid that should alert us to any approaching cloaked Romulans. At the very least, they will have to attack us to get close enough. That, too, will also alert us to their presence.

"I have a very specific plan, one that I will not discuss here. But, if it is applicable, I will need a platoon at the ready.

"After your meal, I expect you to put together that platoon and those facilitators of your choice. "

Epic stood. He definitely had to get one of those steaks.

"And Major... ", he lowered his voice, lending it gravity. "When I say `after your meal', I mean `now'. "