<<Stardate: 47307.17- 05:30>>

<<USS Indiana- Captains Quarters>>

Captains Log: 47307.17

The Indiana has been travelling at warp 5 for over three days in an effort to investigate a spontaneous wormhole that has already destabilized in Sector 547. Last night, Admiral Shelby of Starfleet Command informed us that a Federation Warship, a new commission, the USS Grail would rendezvous with us on 47307.18. She offered no explanation as to how a Galaxy Class ship had already achieved the objective.

Communications with the Grail have informed us that they are travelling to intercept, and that they will now rendezvous with us today. At 05:30, their ETA is six hours from now. The Grails Captain, Zebediah Cochran, is reported to have unexpectedly died. Command of the Grail has fallen to the First Officer, a Betazoid named Epic Terrakian. We are preparing for that rendezvous.

End Log.

Captain Hillary Singh sipped a cup of steaming broth as she read back her log. She nodded to herself with a shrug. It was accurate, if spare on details. But, what details did she have to add?

She leaned back and let her gaze fall on the panoramic tableau of the Indianas flight through hyperspace. The streaks of light that she was leaving easily behind were the stars and systems that fell away like raindrops.

Epic Terrakian. She had seen him once before, though they had never met. It was about 14 years ago, on Risa. His families carnival troupe had been performing, and the young Betazoid himself had played a violin solo that had brought her to tears. She had ended a deeply committed relationship that evening, and it seemed that the young man had known. And had played a particularly heartbreaking piece just for her. Just so that she could cry her eyes out and free herself of her pain.

Of course, that was ridiculous. There was no way he could have done such a thing, even if he was Betazoid. But, it seemed that way at the time. And because of that, she had remembered his name. He was barely passed his puberty then. She wondered what kind of a man he had become.

`Goodness, Hillary.', she scolded herself. `You are twice that child's age now. Don't flatter yourself with girlish fantasies. Besides...'

Besides. She had heard things about Epic Terrakian. Some of those things were dark. Yet, she could never reconcile the cold and creepy things she had heard with the hot and powerfully passionate musician she had seen all those years ago. She shrugged. It didn't matter. She would see soon enough in only six hours.

The alarm at her door sounded, disturbing her reverie. "It's open.", she called out, characteristically.

The door opened to admit a hulking Klingon. Hillary had always allowed Marouk to wear the attire with which he was most comfortable.

That of a Klingon warrior on a Klingon ship. Even though they were a Starfleet vessel, she had always considered the Indiana `her' ship and she would make the rules. Marouk was only obligated to wear Starfleet attire when in the presence of an officer superior to Hillary herself. Which was to say, almost never.

"Captain.", Marouk started stiffly. "Our last communication with the Grail puts our rendezvous at 11:26. I have had Security doing regular scans, but it would seem that we are alone out here. However....." Marouk seemed reluctant to continue.

"Out with it, Number One.", Hillary coaxed with a smile. Marouk was so rigid and formal, and she was so loose and detached. They had been a good team for three years.

"Captain, I am concerned that we are too close to Romulan space. That sensor buoy we identified last watch was most certainly Romulan. We are being watched."

Hillary nodded. "And what would you have me do? Raise shields? Power up our phasers? Marouk...", she smiled. "We are a Science Vessel. The Romulans would not waste their time attacking us, even if they were willing to travel this far beyond their borders."

Marouk scowled at her motherly smile. It made him feel... childish. "It is my recommendation that we expedite our rendezvous by going to warp 7. This will bring our rendezvous to 07:06.", he responded.

Hillary's smile broadened. "You might want to consult Chief Henrickson about that. Can she give us enough power to achieve warp 7 without taking life support off-line. Besides, the Federation has imposed a warp 5 limit except in the event of emergencies."

Marouk anticipated that argument. "That has not kept the Grail from maintaining warp 8 for over 12 hours."

This irritated her somewhat. On one level, because Marouk was being stubborn, and on another level, because he might be right. The Grail was `uptight' about something. Perhaps she should allow Marouk to be `uptight' too.

Hillary tapped her commbadge. "Singh to Chief Henrickson."

=^= Henrickson, here. =^=, came Rowena Henrickson's chipper reply.

"Rowena. Can you give us power to maintain warp 6 for a few hours and still be able to raise shields if need be?"

Her delay in responding told Hillary that her Chief Engineer had doubts, but was working it all out in her head. Finally,... =^= I would need to divert all power from weapons and all non-essential systems. Then. I could give you 3 hours. Maybe. =^=

Hillary looked at Marouk. The Klingon nodded his acceptance of the restrictions.

"Do it, please.", Hillary finally said. Then she closed the channel.

"What is bothering you, Marouk?", she asked suspiciously.

Marouk held his tongue for a long moment, then responded. "A wormhole has opened only a short distance from the Romulan border. There has been no evidence of a response from their direction." He let silence reign for a moment. "They are out here.", he finally admitted.

Hillary nodded. She hated to admit it, but the paranoid Klingon might be right.<<The Romulan Warbird T'saloset>>

"Commander Sarvid!", Tactical called out.

"Report.", Sarvid responded with a start. It had been quiet for so long.

"The `Indiana' has climbed to warp 6 and have raised shields to half power.", the officer informed with a warning.

"Helm. At maximum warp. how long will it take to intercept this vessel?" Sarvid knew that Subcommander Thalissa was less than two light years away. Still, a message requesting new orders might already put the Indiana out of their effective grasp.

"With the power drain necessitated by the cloaking device....", the Helm paused. "Two hours."

Sarvid gnawed at a piece of invisible gristle. He needed to talk to Thalissa, but she was too far.

"Helm. Go to warp 8."

"Commander.", Tactical called. "At the current rates of all our vessels, the Indiana will be within hailing distance of the Federation Warship. If we proceed, we will likely engage them both."

Sarvid stabbed his comm-panel. "Engineering. Give me all the power you can muster and divert it to the quantum singularity engines. Now."

#Acknowledged. #, came the emotionless reply.

Sarvid settled into a state of calm. "Comm. Send a message to the Subcommander. Inform her that we intend to engage the Federation."

Sarvid felt the rest of his tension melt away. The Subcommander's response would come before he was committed to action. There would be time for her to call off his `heroic' act and prevent his `glorious' Act of War.

"Message sent.", came the Comm's report.

Sarvid sat tall in his chair. He knew, in the eyes of his crew, he had grown taller, more powerful, for his blatant defiance of the Treaty of Algeron and the weak-minded Romulan Senate. Just as he knew, that his withdrawal would be at the order of Subcommander Thalissa. The shame of his eventual retreat would be hers.

Twenty-four minutes later, Sarvid's heart stopped as Subcommander Thalissa's response came over the subspace channel.

"Good luck, Commander Sarvid. Bring honor to the Romulan Empire."

He barely managed to keep himself from hyperventilating.