STAR TREK: THE LAST GENERATION - But For the Grace of God

'Rocks, rocks, rocks and more bloody rocks. Surely there's more to life than rocks,' grumbled Lieutenant Sam Ogborn.

Jared helped him back to his seat. 'I'm sorry about that, Sam, but you were all for this rock-climbing adventure when we suggested it.'

'Yes, but you didn't mention you were going to be pissed while rock-climbing.'

Keeping one eye on piloting the Heineken, Nick replied, 'I don't know why we'd need to mention it.'

Jared threw up his hands. 'Fine! I'm sorry I slipped off and landed on you! How many more times do I have to say it?'

'Until one of my wounds closes itself at least,' Sam told him. He winced.[1] 'Why couldn't you have looked where you were falling?'

Nick turned from the control panel. 'Ah. Well, there's good news, and there's bad news.'

'The engines on this thing are dying in the arse. We probably won't be able to catch the Compromise, at least not before your busted leg gets all—'

'Hang on…' Jared pushed a half-crushed beer can off a panel. 'There is a ship nearby. They're just not answering us at all.'

'Yeah. Here's the ident signal…NSF ship, Vas Deferens-class, USS Valium, NCC-6200.'

'Well, they're not moving at all, that's kinda weird. So it'll only take us about fifteen minutes to get there.'

As the Heineken neared the Valium, the three people on the shuttle weren't exactly getting their hopes up. In Sam's case, this was because he'd passed out, but Nick and Jared were discouraged by the continued lack of signal activity and the fact that a shuttlebay door had been left wide open.

They touched the shuttle down in a dimly-lit bay, thankfully noting that the atmosphere shield held behind them. After a brief scuffle over who would have to leave first, the rear hatch opened, and Nick and Jared emerged.

'We've got an injured colleague, and we've lost contact with our ship! Is there anyon—' He was cut off by the scuffling of bodies and the steps of several pairs of feet. Before they knew it,[2] the lights in the bay had snapped on and a large number of security personnel had surrounded them, phasers at the ready. Ready to shoot them, which they really didn't like.

'Stay where you are!' snapped a voice. 'Put your hands in the air! If you attempt to move, you will be shot!'

Slowly (and wisely in the face of so many weapons), Jared and Nick raised their hands over their heads.

'Silence!' barked the man. He flicked a hand at one of the others. That other snapped his feet against each other on the floor, saluted, and marched over to the Heineken. He disappeared, to emerge a few moments later. He marched back to the chief, stopped sharply, and saluted again. 'Reporting, sir! They are at least speaking truthfully about the casualty, sir!' Another snap, another salute, and he returned to the crowd.

'I think he means ours,' muttered Jared. He said aloud, 'Jared Benjamin Wilkins, Lieutenant…' He trailed off: he couldn't remember his serial number.

The chief – also a lieutenant – flicked out his other hand, and with as much saluting and heel-snapping as the first officer, a second handed him a padd. 'We'll see, prisoner,' he said smugly. 'Place your fingertips on the padd.'

There was a slight hum as it read each of their fingerprints in turn. The chief glared at it while it linked up with the ship's main databases. He lowered the padd. 'At ease,' he told his troops.

As far as Nick and Jared knew, 'at ease' was supposed to suggest at least something of a more relaxed state, but they both decided it wasn't worth commenting on.

The man gave a snort that might have been his version of a laugh. 'We can't be too lax, lieutenants,' he said. 'The Enemy would stop at lower than simple disguise to infiltrate us.'

'It's damned disgusting, I know,' agreed Kalle, which confused Jared and Nick, as they didn't know what he was actually agreeing with. 'Since you two are definitely ours, the captain will want to see you. Don't worry, we'll see that your man gets to sickbay.'

Kalle snapped his feet again, and turned to the security team. 'Dis-MISSED!' he roared. Fourteen men and women snapped to an exaggerated attention before marching, arms swinging high, out of the bay.

'Please follow me. The captain is presently on the bridge.' Kalle saluted Nick and Jared in turn, before snapping his heels – yet again, the two Compromisers were beginning to get sick of it – and marching out of the bay in the same exaggerated manner as his security team.

Following a short distance behind the lieutenant, Nick muttered in Jared's ear. 'This place is fucking freaky.'

And indeed, it seemed that Nick had summed it up quite adequately. The few crewmembers they passed in the corridor all snapped to the attentest attention either of them had seen outside a 20^th Century American propaganda film about Communism. None of the crew seemed to actually like each other at all; rather than the conversations which were normal on every other ship either Nick or Jared had served on, everyone they passed was strictly po-faced and taciturn. The silence, broken only by ringing footsteps, was quite unnerving.

They emerged from the turbolift to find the quietest – and somehow the loudest – starship bridge they'd ever been on. True, driving music wasn't exactly a standard feature on NSF starships, but there was a distinct lack of chatter or conversation, making the ambient noise from the engines and instruments seem like a din. Occasionally a commander in the centre chair – the first officer, they guessed – would bark out something like, 'Flight control! Course correction, point three degrees starboard, ensign!' to be responded with 'Yes, sir! Course correction, point three degrees starboard! Sir! Course correction point three degrees starboard complete, sir, Commander, sir!' 'Acknowledged, flight control.' 'Sir, yes sir!' and so on.

'Commander, permission to speak, sir!' said Kalle. He strode up to the first officer, snapped his heels, and saluted.

In a manner inconsistent with his bulk as a Lurian, the first officer leapt to his own feet and returned Kalle's salute. 'Permission granted, Lieutenant.'

'These are the guests from the unidentified craft, sir. I'm taking them to see the captain.'

'I would've thought it did,' added Jared, before melting himself beneath the first officer's glare. 'Sorry,' he said weakly.'

The first officer turned back to Kalle. 'Carry on, Lieutenant.' He snapped off a salute.

'Sir.' Kalle snapped off one of his own, then led Nick and Jared to the corner of the bridge where the entrance to the captain's ready room lay.

Nick and Jared followed Kalle into the room to see a woman standing behind a spartan desk in a spartan room.[3] In all, she was a rather strange-looking person. Her striking purple eyes gave the distinct impression that part of her ancestry was Xenexian, but the small patches of scales on her face and the extra digit on the hand she saluted with pointed to a possible Neelablan contribution. This was borne out by further examination of her eyebrows, of which there were four.

Under other circumstances, Nick might have considered planning a strategy to get her into bed. As it stood, he still wanted to sleep with her, but didn't think he had much of a chance.

'We're sorry to bother you like this, you must be very busy, I know—' Nick began, but was interrupted.

'Captain!' Kalle snapped to attention yet again. 'Permission to address you! Sir!'

'Two Starfleet officers we encountered on the unidentified craft, sir! Security checks indicate that they are not infiltrators, sir! They wish to speak to you, sir!' Another salute, another snap of his heels, and the security chief turned and marched out of the ready room.

'Captain, now that we've got rid of Hermann Goerring there, could we please have a civilised conversation?' Nick asked. [4]

'You will address me as Sir! And you will speak only when spoken to!' the captain roared.

'I am Captain Ty'skov Zr'va'k, commanding officer of the USS Valium. Your names?'

'Lieutenant Nick Akhurst, chief engineer of the USS Compromise,' Nick answered, trying to work out exactly how she'd managed to pronounce her surname without special equipment.

'Lieutenant Jared Wilkins. Um, his mate. Assistant security chief, tactical, of the USS Compromise.'

'I see.' She called up a couple of files on the computer on her desk. 'Both from the USS Compromise? I see you both have interesting records.'

'Hey! Those are our personal, private files! You can't look at them, they're confidential!' Jared objected.

'Sir!' they both said, saluting with opposite hands, and Jared poking himself in the eye.

'If you don't mind me saying so…uh, sir, you run a pretty tight ship here.' Zr'va'k glared at him. 'Er, not that there's anything wrong with that…it's just…we come from a more informal…' He searched his vocabulary of 'military words'. '…unit.'

Before Jared could earn himself a court-martial by saying, 'Oh, it's one of those ships,' Nick spoke up.

'Wait a minute,' he said. '“Times like this”? With all…um…due respect, Captain, sir, times like what? Did we miss something?'

Zr'va'k looked at them strangely. 'Your confidence is commendable, Lieutenant, but we all know the situation at hand. The Federation is at war.'

The room gradually swam into focus. He appeared to be lying on a bio-bed in a sickbay not altogether different from the one on the Compromise, with one notable exception: the Compromise had a moderately together reasonably qualified human-ish medical staff. The person bending over him with a look of mild irritation was, Sam recognised, an emergency medical hologram.

The EMH flipped open his tricorder. 'Severe break to both tibia and fibula, multiple abrasions and bruising, mild concussion and slight food poisoning.'

'For the most part,' the doctor replied smugly, adjusting the calibrations on the bone regenerative unit which was perched over Sam's leg. 'You are very lucky to have been picked up by our ship when you were, however – even with current medical technology, gangrene can be hard to treat.'

'Right…' Sam ran through his memory of recent events, which wasn't as complete as he would have liked, and asked the inevitable question.

'Doc, will you explain one thing – where the hell am I and what the fuck is going on?'

'Lieutenant, you are currently on board the USS Valium, NCC-6200, an experimental vessel much like your own USS Compromise. And as for what is going on, you might consider narrowing the parameters of your request, or we will be here all day.'

'Well, why aren't Nick and Jared here to apologise for breaking my leg and giving me food poisoning?'

'I gather they have been taken to see the Captain.' The doctor helped Sam into a sitting position, propping him with the bio-bed's adjustable back. 'In our present circumstances, you must understand that security is paramount.'

The doctor gave Sam a disapproving look. 'I understand that your ship is a long way from the combat zone, but everybody has responsibilities with this war.'

'Until we can contact the Compromise, I think it would behove you to at least pretend that you care about this conflict. And as we are under strict radio silence, you may be with us for quite a time,' the doctor snapped, flipping the tricorder open again.

Sam sat back and tried not to move, as the doctor ran a dermal generator over the abrasions on his head. In the hologram's present bad mood, Sam wouldn't have put it past him to seal up all the holes which he considered rather important, like his mouth.

After a protracted silence, the hologram appeared to relent a little. 'It is quite a coincidence that you and your crewmates should be picked up by the Valium, of all ships,' he remarked. 'In a way, your ship caused this one to be commissioned.'

'My ship? Hey, don't look at me. I've only been there less than a year. Anything those guys got up to before I got there are nothing to do with me.'

'You misunderstand me,' the doctor said rather pompously. 'It is, and I use the word with a great deal of reluctance, the success of the Compromise project which prompted the launch of Project Valium.'

The doctor clicked his tricorder closed again, and leaned back. 'The purpose of the Compromise project was to determine whether a viable command hierarchy could be established on an extant social structure, am I right?'

'As part of this project, your friends were put through Academy training and indoctrination, not it that had the slightest effect on them, and were then left to work things out for themselves. Well, the proposed crew of the Valium were selected from Academy applicants with high-level abilities and the skills needed to run a starship, but were given no Starfleet training, and were left to establish protocols and hierarchy as they saw fit. This ship is the result.'

'So what's this war about? Nobody told us a blind thing on the Compromise. Mind you, that's nothing new. We didn't hear about the Founders war till it was over.' Sam thought about this for a moment. 'OK, that was probably because the ship was lost in a parallel universe at the time, so it might not be the best example.'

'Oh, the war. Not exactly a happy topic for discussion,' the doctor said with a sigh. 'Doubtless you did hear about the Federation settlers negotiating land access with the Meraphys government?'

Sam, who hadn't heard anything of the kind but didn't want to appear uninformed, nodded cautiously.

'The settlers moved into the Ternar province, established homes and farms, and started building a community. Before long, however, there were...incidents.'

'Attacks, robberies...general troublemaking. At first, the settlers thought they were having a run of bad luck with some restless locals. Then, one night during one of these “incidents”, an attacker was cornered by some of the settlers and captured. Despite his best efforts to convince them otherwise, they deduced that he was actually a secret service agent, employed by the Meraphys government. The Federation, naturally, issued a statement of protest. The Meraphys government were less than receptive. Before long, the Federation decided to get their people out of there, and sent ships to evacuate the colonists.'

'It would have been, were the Federation ships better defended. They were fired upon by the armed forces on Meraphys. Only forty-seven colonists survived...out of more than three thousand. I think you can guess how things went from there.'

'Mm. I think so.' Sam tried to grip this one. True, with the Compromise no longer the NSF flagship, they weren't so caught up on political matters as they once were, but if the whole Federation had been at war all this time, you'd have thought they'd at least mention it on FNN or something. 'So why are we under radio silence?'

'Lieutenants, the reason for our radio silence is because of the special assignment the Valium has been charged with in the war effort.'

'Not really, most attempts at a joke start off with several people walking into a bar. Look, why wouldn't we have 7-blue clearance?'

'You need 7-blue clearance to deliver the bloody paper! The man who changes the bog-rolls has 7-blue clearance,' Jared said.

'There's a man who changes the bog-rolls? Why doesn't he ever make it to my room?' asked Nick.

The squabbling duo realised the icy silence that was being directed at them by the captain, who was drumming her fingers on the desk.[6]

Zr'va'k's desktop computer apparently satisfied her concerns about their clearance. 'In which case...' she said reluctantly. 'Obviously, the Valium has survived this war for quite some time. No casualties, minimal damage or injury. That's a very impressive record, even if I am her commanding officer.'

'Look, we generally do pretty fine ourselves,' Nick told her. 'I mean, most of the casualties on the Compromise come from Emma the Klingon's Wallbangers. The name is really scarily accurate.'

'Have you any interest whatsoever in the situation this ship finds itself in? Yes? Then kindly refrain from interrupting me!' Captain Zr'va'k snapped impatiently. 'Our current mission is running surveillance of the border zone between Meraphys space and the nearby Thonemian sector. Since the massacre of Federation settlers, Meraphys has become quite the expansionist.'

'As the word “massacre” would indicate, Lieutenant Wilkins, a large number of Federation settlers were slaughtered by Meraphysian secret service agents. This is just the start of a long list of incursions we have observed in this sector, and the Federation is determined to limit the civilian casualties as much as possible, and protect Thonemian space.'

'And as we are unable to break our mission or our radio silence to return you to your ship, may I consider you part of my crew until such time as we can contact the Compromise? We are, after all, Starfleet officers,' the captain asked, reluctance in her voice.

Nick and Jared exchanged looks, and shrugged. 'Sure,' said Nick. 'Why not? Maybe we can help.'

'My crew already has a highly skilled Chief of Engineering, and a very talented Tactician, but I am sure you will be useful,' the captain said, her tone indicating that she did not believe a word she was saying. 'If you wish, you may visit your crewmember in the infirmary until the start of your watch, which will be at Six Bells.'

'What's a bell?' asked Nick, at the same time that Jared asked 'What are we watching?'

As the time passed, the three Compromise crew began to feel the way they fitted in on the ship. Jared and the Valium's tactical officer, a Silurian named Ogmar, had faced off initially over differences in opinion,[7] but had eventually become relatively civil, combining their skill and holding off drowning each other in pint pots. Nick had inserted himself well into the engineering crew; his knowledge of jury-rigging and the supreme power of gaffer tape had given the ship a fifteen-percent energy efficiency boost. And once his leg had healed properly, Sam was welcomed as one of the best pilots the Valium had ever seen. His skill with evasion tactics was noted particularly. On the whole, Captain Zr'va'k was not entirely displeased with the new members of her crew, but regularly deplored their lack of discipline.

'I don't believe the Compromise has ever heard of saluting a superior officer,' she commented to Commander Boffo in the mess hall one evening.

'It's entirely possible, Captain. The ship has a somewhat unusual reputation. However, it is also an effective part of the fleet and there is no doubt that the crew know their business. They just conduct it in a rather unusual way.'

Lieutenant Kalle marched to the table where the captain and first officer sat. 'Captain, sir, permission to speak, sir!' he said, saluting.

'Sir, intelligence from Starfleet Command on the scrambled channel. It appears a Meraphysian transport will be attempting an invasion of Thonemian space tomorrow, less than five light years from here, Sir!' He saluted again, and handed her a padd.

'Thank you, lieutenant, dismissed,' the captain answered. Kalle saluted (yet again), snapped his heels and marched off.

'This could be a difficult assignment,' Boffo commented, as the captain read through the information on the padd.

'True,' she said. 'But history will judge us on how well we carry it out. We have no choice but to succeed.'

'Conn! Adjust bearing point two seven degrees starboard!' barked second officer Mahkon.

'Sir, course adjusted point two seven degrees starboard,' Sam answered with a sigh.

Watching the empty stretch of Thonemian space before him, Sam wondered idly how long it would be before they could get back to the Compromise. They had been on the Valium for over a week now, and although it wasn't a bad ship per se, he missed the Compromise. Mahkon in particular was getting on his nerves; the Klingon had absolutely no grasp of irony whatsoever, and dedicated all the fervour that Klingons usually dedicate to the pursuit of honour to the maintenance of strict discipline. After a bridge session with Mahkon in command, Sam usually had a blinding headache.

'Attention! Captain on deck!' Mahkon shouted, leaping to attention and saluting wildly.

'Crew, I have some sobering news,' the captain said. 'We have reason to believe that we will today be engaging the enemy. Our intelligence sources indicate that Meraphysian forces plan to invade Thonemian territory, and it is our duty to make sure that this does not happen. Conn, set course nine two seven mark three four two and engage at warp factor two.'

The captain sighed. It probably would be too much to ask for this man to respond in the correct manner. At least he obeyed her commands.

'Kalle, arm photon torpedoes and a full spread of quantum torpedoes. Make sure the shields are at one hundred percent.'

'Sir, yes sir!' Kalle barked. 'Sir, photon torpedoes armed, sir. Sir, quantum torpedoes armed, sir.'

'Very well.' The captain sat back. 'We will shortly be engaging the enemy. I do not expect any one of you to let me down.'

'Sir, sensors picking up a ship, Meraphysian transport class,' Jared said from tactical.

The Meraphysian ship was travelling slowly, along the Thonemian border, but still in Meraphysian space. It was squat in shape and looked old and rather worn. The captain watched it with narrowed eyes for a minute before speaking.

'Sir, why?' Sam didn't realise he'd spoken till the words were out of his mouth.

'One hit, left upper quadrant. Minimal damage. They have improved their shield technology.

'Captain, it looks like this class of ship doesn't have any weapon capability,' Jared reported from tactical.

'Conn, I do not believe I asked your opinion! Be quiet!' the Captain barked. 'Report?'

'Captain, my sensors are reading meta-anechoic shielding. I don't know how they got it, but it's making our weapons useless against them,' Jared said, relief sounding in his voice.

Captain Zr'va'k punched the arm of her chair. 'Dammit! It's those wretched Breen, they're always one step ahead of us!' she shouted.

'They're powering up their engines, captain, looks like they're running for it,' Jared said.

'Captain! I totally protest!' Sam objected, at the same time as Jared said 'HUH?!?'

'You're relieved of duty! Kalle, escort this man to the brig! Commander Boffo, take over. Ramming speed, all ahead full.'

Jared stared as Sam was man-handled off the bridge, and the ship revved up its powerful engines, gaining quickly on the fleeing Meraphysian ship.

Jared exited the turbolift slowly, returning to the quarters he shared with Nick. The engineer was sitting on his bunk reading a book when Jared entered.

Jared sat down next to Nick on the bunk. 'That,' he said, 'was an unarmed Meraphysian transport. And that's not all – Sam's been taken to the brig. He's been arrested.'

It could have been worse, Sam reflected. Of course, off the top of his head he could only come up with a few ways to worsen it, involving snakes and sharks and more of Jared's chilli, but that gave him a small measure of hope.

'You are to remain here at the Captain's pleasure, traitor,' Kalle said, activating the force field.

'Huh? What do you mean, at her pleasure? She's not going to come down here and make me—'

'No, Lieutenant, you are to remain here until such time as the Captain considers that you have atoned for your crime.'

'I'm in the next cell. I don't think you can see me from here; there's kind of a wall in the way.'

Sam rolled his eyes. 'Right, let's try that again. Hi, my name is Sam. What's yours?'

Sam sat down on his bunk. 'We may be here for a while, Denis, so why don't you tell me how you got here? What was your job?'

Rocks again, thought Sam. 'So how does a geophysicist get thrown in the brig? Did you invent a new strain of rock which killed people?'

There was a strange pause from the other side. 'Yes. Yes, I made a new rock that if you drop enough of it on someone's head, they die.'

There came the sound of voices from the guard's station. 'Permission to see the prisoner, sir!' came tones tinged with sarcasm and not a little lager.

The ensign finally found his voice. 'I'm under orders that no-one is to see the prisoners, sirs.'

'Yes. But, um. We might have to interrogate him. He could have…secret tactical information. We'd better beat that out of him. We don't know what he might have sent to the Thonemians.'

'Sirs? Of course. Sir, yes sir.' Sam didn't know if the guard had become convinced or simply exasperated, but Nick and Jared soon appeared on the other side of the force field.

Sam sighed. 'Look, I know the Compromise is a bit laid back when it comes to reading intelligence reports, but surely we would have noticed if the Federation was at war all this time?'

'Then how come we haven't heard about it? No-one knows about it; can't get more secret than that.'

'How can you guys not know about the war? They keep sending us reports about the support back home, about how every ship in the NSF is dedicated to striking at the heart of the evil Meraphys Empire.'

Jared shook his head. 'Wish we could. But the captain would probably just chuck us in their with you and we'd have to have rampant prison botty sex. Look, we've been gone for ages. By now the rest of the Bunnies on the Compromise will have noticed how late we are, and they'll be sending someone out to come find us.'

'Does anyone else think Sam, Jared and Nick have been gone a long time?' Di looked around the Compromise's 10-Foreplay lounge. With those three gone, the place looked kind of deserted. Of course, that could be because it was deserted, because it was three in the morning.

Di shrugged. 'Nah. Guess I was just wondering. Still, do you think we should tell someone, just in case?'

Eliane waved a dismissive hand. 'No, don't worry about them. Knowing them, they probably just discovered some beer planet or something. They'll come back when they're good and ready.'

Di nodded. 'You're right,' she said, then finished her drink. 'Anyway, I'm sure those three can take care of themselves.'

Nick tried to block out Albinizi's barked order as he stuffed himself further and further beneath the floor of the Valium's engineering deck. Like everyone else on board, she wasn't a bad person, just...completely hopeless. Nick hadn't spent a lot of time in the military back in the twenty-first century,[9] but he was beginning to appreciate that the reason humankind hadn't wiped itself out in one of the ever-popular wars they used to keep having was because their armed forces could never concentrate on what they were doing. Or possibly that their numbers dwindled because everyone had such bad manners.

His tricorder told him that the piece of starship that he had to fix was an overload a couple of metres ahead, so he started dragging himself further in. There it was. Just a few components that he could easily--

Obviously it wasn't going to be right, there wouldn't be an engineer down here fixing things if they all worked perfectly. But even before it had broken, this weapons linkage had been rigged completely wrong. They'd never win the war if they had input and output going through strange little systems like this. He set to work sorting it out, but couldn't help but wonder why it had been like that in the first place.

As the tactical officer for the shift in question, it fell to Jared to add the most recent skirmish to the Valium's tactical logs. Reading over previous entries for said logs, he was both impressed and appalled. Unlike those of the Compromise, they were diligently maintained, each and every encounter, battle or manoeuvre logged in full detail. On the other hand, they lacked the...well, the style that his own ship had. When Jared did update the log on the Compromise, he tended to offer commentary and opinion about the most recent exploit, the state of the ship or Starfleet in general, and for that matter anything else that might have taken his fancy. Others tended to provide similar colour. The Valium reports just went in, did what they had to, and went out again. They were just...clear.

Jared read for a bit more, then picked up the padd and left for other parts of the ship.

A Lurian marched through Zr'va'k's door and saluted. 'Commander Boffo reporting, sir!'

'On schedule, sir.' Boffo handed her a padd. 'However, Lieutenant Commander Albinizi reports that Lieutenant Akhurst voiced concerns about some “engineering anomalies”. She also adds, sir, that he did not use the correct report procedure to do this...'

'That fact will go on Lieutenant Akhurst's service record. It won't come off easily. What were these “anomalies”, Commander?'

'Lieutenant Akhurst reported that he had completed the repairs, but that he didn't understand how several of the ship's systems were intended to function.'

Zr'va'k nodded. 'Understood. He's likely just unfamiliar with the Valium's specifications. Starfleet told us she was a unique kind of ship when they assigned her to us. Unlike their comrade in the brig, I'm sure Lieutenants Akhurst and Wilkins will grow to become fine additions to the crew.'

'Your diligence commends you, Commander. Standing NSF orders are still in effect, no matter their subject. “Any persons, civilian or otherwise, retrieved by the Valium during her tour will remain on board until the end of hostilities.” None of them are going anywhere.'

Lieutenant Kalle's head snapped around as he heard movement in the shuttlebay. It was 0300 ship time - and while there was a war on, the night-shift (as regulations stated) did mean a downturn in the number of personnel in less essential areas of the ship. An area of the ship that wasn't supposed to have anyone in it anyway (except himself, being on watch), and that held only a shuttlecraft that wasn't going to go anywhere certainly didn't count as essential, not at any hour.

'Who's there?' he called, stepping down towards the Heineken. There was no answer save for a few scuffling sounds. 'Come on out,' he said. Whoever it was then decided to stop moving, and in doing so apparently dropped something on themselves.

The shuttlebay rose to full illumination to reveal Jared trying to ease his way out of the Heineken. 'Um. Hi,' he said.

'All right. The uniform rules are very...exact around here, and I didn't want to get in trouble with the Captain. But come on, have you seen the queue for uniform laundry on this ship? I know, I shouldn't have done it, but...'

Kalle thought about it. He liked to think of himself as a blue-collar kind of person - even if his collar was actually gold and it was his skin that was blue - one of the men, as it were. And, Jared was right - after all, he wasn't exactly breaking protocol, and even so he was only doing it to keep to a far more important regulation. 'All right, Wilkins,' he said with what he hoped was the right amount of reluctance. 'Just don't let it happen again.'

Some hours later, he found Nick in a lower corridor, a Mees panel pulled aside, and several things that had once been behind it now scattered on the floor. He held out a couple of padds. 'Here,' he said. 'Have you seen…what's all this? Are you planning to build us another Compromise?'

'Very funny. No, I've found…things all through the ship, little machines put in all kinds of important systems.'

Nick started poking around in the ship's internals. Jared wasn't sure if he was trying to undo what he'd done or do even more of it. 'Remember all that stuff I told you I'd found in engineering yesterday?' Jared nodded. 'More shit like that.'

'I still haven't had the chance to really sit down and look at it. As soon as I woke up this morning, Boffo had the whole engineering department out for uniform inspection. Later I've got to go back and show him that I do own socks the same length. Did you find what you wanted from the shuttle?'

'Yes,' said Jared. 'Yes I did.' He handed Nick one of the padds. 'I thought something looked strange when I was writing up the reports from the fight with the Meraphysians. So I went back to the Heineken and downloaded some of the news archives still in its computer. Take a look.'

Nick read over the padd. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with it, just a list of bad things the enemy had been up to. Not exactly surprising in a war, although that was probably about the only thing not surprising about it so far. Except…

'…hang on. That bombing at the mental hospital on Titan…I remember that, that that wasn't Meraphysians, that was a Romulan splinter group. This raid on the bingal-bangal crop on Cestus III – they've blamed the Meraphysians, but that was Con Maher, the union activist!'

'Yeah, and it goes on and on like that. All these attacks, accidents, natural disasters, whatever – every single one of them has been attributed to the Meraphysians! And I hadn't even heard of them before we got here!'

Nick nodded. 'And it takes a lot for you not to have heard of something. OK, this is getting fucking weird.'

'So, Denis,' said Sam. 'How come you're not as...eager as the rest of the crew?'

'No, I think what it really is is that I'm from a slightly different background to them.'

'No, not that. But because of one thing and another, I was doing a short course at the Academy when someone had the idea for the Valium program. I was actually the last to join, because someone else had to drop out. So I wasn't quite what they were expecting.'

'Despite what the original intent of the experiment was, it's not just skills they were looking for. The attitude of the applicants had a lot to do with. Only because I came in late, they couldn't be so fussy.'

'I did OK for a while,' continued Denis. 'But before long, things really started to get on-edge around here. Captain Zr'va'k's not exactly the most diplomatic of people. Then the war broke out, and she could finally put her skills to some good use.'

'Well, maybe it's not quite two years yet. Hang on. Yeah, I think war was declared on stardate 55147.'

'…' Sam shook his head. All right, missing the outbreak of a war was one thing, missing its total duration was another entirely. He thought about his next question carefully. 'Have you heard what the picture on Earth's been like lately?'

'Pretty grim. Everyone's putting a lot of faith in Starfleet to fight back Meraphys. From what I've heard, though, that's all they've got faith in. They sound pretty worried.'

All right, that was enough. Sam had been on Earth two years ago, and the biggest worry the people at large had had was the outcome of the 2378 World Cup in Sealand. 'How can we just not have heard of this war?'

Sam looked up to see Jared and Nick approaching the cells. 'That would make sense,' said Sam. 'Unfortunately, it would make everything else not make sense.'

'It's all a big con job,' explained Jared. 'The intelligence is fake, the history is rubbish, and all the radio silence is doing is making sure no-one inside the ship knows what's happening outside, and the other way round.'

Nick thought about it. 'I guess it's possible. If someone wanted to fake the effect of ramming something, but...'

'Wait,' said Sam. 'I've got an idea.' He stood up, then flopped back down again as the ship gave a sudden lurch.

The ship shuddered again as they reached the bridge, flinging them right out of the turbolift. 'Lieutenants!' called Zr'va'k, whipping her head around. 'I was just about to call for you, good work. Wilkins, Lieutenant Kalle was injured in that last hit, you can take tactical.'

'He'll be fine, but that's none of your concern, Mr Wilkins. Just take tactical.'

'Yes, sir. Taking tactical, sir.' Christ, it's easy when you don't think about it, he thought.

'Enemy vessel coming about, Captain, sir,' reported Mahkon. Lucky she was there, Jared thought, otherwise Captain Zr'va'k might have had to look at the viewscreen herself.

'Hailing us?' The captain was visibly confused. All four of her eyebrows were furrowed.

Zr'va'k visibly relaxed. 'I thought so. An underhanded trick by the Meraphysians. Can't say I expected better of them. Fire at will.'

Given this new discovery, Jared really wasn't of the will to fire at all, but he didn't think that's what the captain had in mind. Maybe if he at least made a show of it, that would do.

It was Nick's engineering station that gave him the answer. 'They've taken out our phaser relays and our torpedo launchers.'

'Respectfully, sir, I wouldn't advise that,' said Mahkon. 'Not with our shields and hull in the condition they're in.'

'Engage!' Zr'va'k snapped to her feet. She didn't look so good.[10] 'I'll...I'll be in my ready room. Number One, you have the bridge.'

'Yes, sir. Taking command, sir.' Boffo stood, saluted, then slid into the centre chair. Zr'va'k stomped into her office and closed the door behind her.

'Captain's log, stardate 57138.71. This will be a sure blow to ship's morale. The Valium has never even taken a hit in a firefight before, let alone been forced to retreat. These Meraphysians were well-briefed about Starfleet manoeuvres, too. They knew to take out our weapons - they knew how to take out our weapons. Have there been more intelligence leaks? The two men in the Valium's brig are obvious sympathisers, but Hackney's been in detention too long to have done anything, and Ogborn wouldn't have had access to those systems during his tour of duty. I will ask Mr Kalle to keep an eye on our other two newcomers, but I can see nothing to suggest that they've had either the inclination or the opportunity to report to the enemy. No, the Valium is too tightly sealed, I suspect the leak may come from somewhere else in Starfleet. Nonetheless, I am concerned about the potential psychological effects this may have on the crew. Some of them are young and fresh, unused to the realities of a war. I may have to consult the Emergency Medical Hologram on this matter.'

Jared nodded. 'Sickbay,' he told the turbolift. 'Good idea. First there's a war, then there's no war, and then we get shot at.'

'Sam said that the Dr Z they've got running sickbay here told him about the social experiment.'

'Which means he knows about it. Mind you, everyone probably does. Everyone on the Compromise knew what they were getting into.'

'Yeah, but some knew more than others. Ksenia, for example. Even though she was in the first group of people, she still came along after everyone else. And that was for two reasons. One was because they needed a scientist at her level. The other was so that Starfleet could have someone on the inside as well, telling them how things were getting on.'

'Gra was telling me about it the other night while he was describing one of his seventy-odd unsuccessful attempts to pick her up. Because she'd left and gone through Starfleet the normal way, she was the perfect choice, whether she thought so or not.'

The turbolift stopped and the doors open. Nick spread his hands wide. 'Wasn't a secret. Everyone knew there was an experiment, everyone knew someone had to send on some results. It wasn't like she was spying through peepholes or going through people's underwear drawer...'

Jared nodded. 'And that's a lot more than can be said for the rest of the crew, I suppose. So, if anyone on board does know a bit more...'

As they arrived at sickbay, they passed Kalle on his way out. They exchanged greetings by saying 'Lieutenant' several times in succession, then Jared and Nick went in.

Kalle must have been the last of the injured, as they found sickbay empty. 'Computer, activate the EMH,' said Jared.

The familiar figure, a balding man in an unmarked medical uniform, appeared. 'Please state the nature of the medical emergency.'

The EMH gave a small chuckle. 'That they may be, Lieutenant, but I'm not a psychiatrist. Actually, I can be, but you'll have to install the upgrade yourself. But I like to think that we're all a little mad, in our own ways...'

The doctor shrugged. 'Very well. I told your friend Mr Ogborn all you need to know, but if you'd rather hear it from me...'

'Yeah, but we want to hear a bit more,' Jared said. 'Like about the Valium and this “war” with the Meraphysians.'

The doctor blinked at them. 'What's to tell? Surely you can see how a group of people like the Valium crew would be ideally suited to a war. I can't say I agree with war as a whole, but if that's what Starfleet insists it has to--'

'Doc,' said Nick. 'We know you know more than you're letting on.' Actually, he wasn't 100% sure about that yet, but he didn't want to hurt his case.

'Of course I do.' The hologram started to shuffle as though he was getting uncomfortable. 'I could give you a lengthy dissertation on the Ferengi lymphatic system, but I don't think you really need to hear it right now.'

'Don't give us this. You're a doctor. You've got to be filled in to keep an eye on the crew's mental health. Not to mention that you're running off the ship, and I've got a bright idea that the ship is a part of this whole thing.'

The doctor chuckled again. 'Of course; can't have a Valium project without the Valium.'

Jared picked something off the bench. 'This a laser scalpel?' he asked, fingering it meaningfully.

'Ah.' Jared, his sails unfurled. 'Hang on.' He picked up the scalpel, and Nick covered his eyes as he tried to sound potent again. 'This is a laser scalpel. Now, if I set it to full, I could probably put it right through my hand, right?'

'Right. Now, you're a doctor, so I'm guessing that the Hippocratic oath's been programmed into you somewhere. “10 DO NO HARM” or something. So if you don't tell us all about the war, about the experiment, about the Valium, about...well, any other crap that might be going on, I'm gonna stab myself right here.'

'Even if I did know anything, I wouldn't tell you. You have no real intention of harming yourself with that scalpel.'

'Very well, Mr Wilkins, I refuse to tell anything about something I can't claim to know anything about. You'll just have to go ahead and stab yourself.'

'Um.' Jared looked between his two hands, and the scalpel in one of them. 'Uh, right.' He held one over the other. 'You sure?' he asked the doctor. The doctor nodded. Jared brought the scalpel closer. 'Last chance.' The doctor shrugged.

'Bu--' began Jared, before Nick brought his own hand down and forced the implement into Jared's. 'Owwww!!! FUCK!!' He turned to Nick, grabbing at his wound. 'Fucker!! What the fucking fuck did you do that for?? Fuck!'

Nick shook his head, and turned to the - quite frankly, shocked - EMH. 'Fix him up. And tell us what's going on.'

'Very well.' The doctor sighed and beckoned Jared towards him. 'It won't come as a shock to hear that the crew of the Valium are a somewhat...zealous bunch of people.'

'A little too zealous for everyone's tastes. They and Starfleet had different ideas about how the organisation worked. They were...I imagine a good analogy would be to imagine a Klingon from a prison rugby team playing on an elementary school's phys ed team.'

The doctor bobbed his head. 'It was a success in the structure it created...but they weren't long-term viable.'

The doctor sprayed something on Jared's hand. 'Keep still, Lieutenant. Possible, but very difficult. And there are...people within the Narrabundah Star Fleet not so keen for that to happen.'

'Hard to say. Naturally, I wasn't exactly a prime consultant on this matter.' The doctor rolled his eyes. 'After all, it would be hard to imagine how the sum total of Federation medical knowledge would be any use. But, where were we? Ah, yes. Embarrassment, possibly. Some kind of controversy. The Valium crew may have been deemed to difficult or even dangerous to re-assimilate. Some might have even thought that having a ready and eager team like this crew would be useful if Starfleet came across some more extreme circumstances.' He paused and looked up at Nick. 'Any or all of these might be the case. But, whichever it was, they needed something for the Valium to do. So war broke out.'

'As you've discovered, it's not a real war. There aren't even any Meraphysians. “Meraphysian” is an ancient Vulcan word for what you would call a polyp.'

'Fictional scenarios were invented to give the war some kind of background and history. These “intelligence reports” were fed to Captain Zr'va'k. The Valium was steered to an empty and unpopular region of space where they could fly in little circles to their hearts' content. Filters were set up around the ship's instruments during a routine refit schedule. There. You'll be fine, Lieutenant.'

'That'll teach you to play with every surgical instrument you find lying around.'

'No, more like a custom job,' said Nick. 'We had the standard model, but Graham, our doctor...he reprogrammed it a bit.'

'Right, everyone ready,' said Graham. 'There's been a little bit of reaction from, well, everyone after Leila's blowfish biriani à l'orange, so this place'll be swarming soon. Melanie, Anthea - you two set up in here, I'll get the other room ready, everyone else start replicating antidotes.' He disappeared into the other ward.

In a shimmer of holography, it appeared. But not the gentleman they were expecting - instead they were faced with a tight-muscled and highly dairy-capable woman with overly blonde hair, wearing black stiletto heels and a posing-pouch.

They stared at her, goggle-eyed, until finally saying, 'Computer, deactivate EMH.' The hologram faded from view.

The Valium EMH, meanwhile, was continuing his story. 'The “ships” that the Valium fights are usually space debris, floating pieces of rock or other similarly volatile items. The instruments are programmed to show a false image of a vessel, one that appears to be giving the Valium a good fight. And just to be on the safe side, navigation and weapons are set that the Valium can't actually go anywhere or do anything that might harm themselves or others. The “radio silence” and occasional scrambled “intelligence report” does the rest.'

'Isn't it?' agreed the hologram. 'I might be part of this charade, but I'm not its biggest fan. And, at least the crew are out of harm's way. After all, it's not like the ship can ever really take a hit.'

'No. The computer is programmed to tell them that any shots the “enemy” fires either go wild or are fully absorbed by the shields.'

'Doc, in that last battle, we did take a hit. Blew a chunk off the outer hull and everything.'

The doctor stared at them. 'But that's impossible.' He crossed to the console and read from it. His expression went from confusion to shock. 'We really have been hit. But that's impossible. Weapons, sensors, everything is tied into the feedback blocking units. They're all over the ship, in every one of those systems! What's happened?'

Nick sheepishly raised his hand. 'Um, Doc? These feedback things...would they be about so big, with a copper-coloured panel on it, and six or seven isolinear chips bolted in?'

'I can think of about twelve hundred replies that make me come off looking better than you.'

The doctor backed down. 'Yes. Yes, you're probably right. But this means that we really were shot at by another vessel. I wonder who? Romulans? Cardassians? Quintessons? We could be anywhere by now. Some of the filters will still be in place, others not. It's impossible to say what they're doing.'

'Yes it can,' Jared said. 'We got a signal from them partway through the fight, but the captain blew it off, said it was a trick.'

'It wasn't.' The doctor looked at his console again. 'That was a genuine NSF signal coming through after the blocks were removed. That's why they shot at our weapons systems.'

Jared nodded. 'That's what they usually try first when it's Starfleet vs Starfleet.'

There was pause. 'So what happens now?' Nick wondered aloud. 'We've pulled a shitload of this genie out of its bottle.'

He was interrupted by Commander Boffo's voice. 'Attention all crew. Everyone to battle stations, repeat - everyone to battle readiness.'

'The Valium has just sited a major Meraphysian installation. Placed in the middle of a combat zone like this, it can only mean bad news for the Federation. All officers to battle stations. The attack will commence in T minus 115 minutes.'

'A polyp installation? I don't like the sound of that. Doc, can we break through and see what it really is from here?'

If the Valium had windows, they might have been able to look out of them and see their new target. And it wasn't a rock this time.

Starbase 63 was one of its locality's busier ports of call, home as it frequently was to starship crews on stopovers, various conferences and conventions, not to mention all of its own primary duties of monitoring and direction. On most days, there could easily be over two thousand people on the base for one reason or another.

Sam sprang back from the shock of the force-field. At least with good old-fashioned bars you could lean against them pathetically without zapping yourself.

'Exactly. Your guard's got a bit of a headache so he won't see you're coming with us.'

'That was Jared saying that he hit him on the head and now he's unconscious,' said Denis.

'Yeah,' said Jared. 'Stand back.' He drew his phaser and blasted a control panel on the wall. Nothing happened. 'Oh,' he said. 'That always works in the movies.'

Nick sighed. 'There's one button, you mad show-off. Geez.' He walked back to the guard-post and opened the cells from there.

'So what's happening?' said Sam. 'Have we really found an outpost of some sort?'

'Yes. But it's one of our sorts. So we're gonna run away.' Jared beckoned to Denis. 'You wanna come?'

With everyone entering full manic-obsessive mode, it was easy for the four of them to make their way through the ship towards where the Heineken was berthed. Nick and Jared brought the other two up to speed with the situation.

'Yes. No. Well, we can't tell anymore,' said Jared. 'Let's get to the shuttle, then we can warn the starbase and get away from the crazy three-eyed, purple-breasted lady.'

'Who cares?? I really don't think either of us have got a chance with her any more!'

Nick shook his head. 'Last time she thought that was a Meraphysian trick. So all that'll do will put all of us back in the brig.'

'Right.' They continued for a few more metres, then Sam spoke again. 'Wait. I do have an idea. Nick...' Sam asked Nick a few technical questions that Jared didn't understand because he wasn't paying any attention to them.

'And that could work,' Nick said at last. 'Right. I'll go do that, I'll meet you guys down at the Heineken.'

Zr'va'k nodded. The Meraphysians weren't going to give the Valium two defeats in a row, she'd see to that.

'Who' was Jared, Sam and Denis. 'There' was the entry to the shuttlebay. 'Halt' was being requested by a security guard whose battle station apparently was guarding the Heineken.

Dammit. Jared fumed for a moment, then picked up on the keywords of the guard's statements.

'Yes, that's right, “Lieutenant”,' barked Jared. 'I am a lieutenant and you are an ensign, and when I say need access to the shuttlebay, you will give me access to the shuttlebay, do you understand?!'

'Good! Now, get out of my way, and be grateful I don't court-martial you! Go back to your quarters, ensign!'

Jared turned after him. 'And when you're there,' he called. 'You strip down to...'

Nick joined them, an equipment case in one hand. 'Wow. What'd you to do that guy?'

Denis looked about nervously. 'If we're going to talk about this, could we do it on the shuttle?'

Lee didn't like this. He opened even more channels, and repeated his message. 'Attention, incoming vessel. This is Starbase 63. I repeat, this the Federation Starfleet installation, Starbase 63. Do you copy?' Nothing. 'Starship Valium, you are on an intercept course. We can detect that your weapons are armed. Please respond.' Again, nothing. Lee turned around. 'No response, Captain.'

'I...' The communications officer shrugged. 'No, nothing, sir. I think they're receiving us, but just ignoring us.'

'And there's this, Rob.' Lieutenant Caramia had placed herself by another console.

'Starbase 63? This is Lieutenant Sam Ogborn of the USS Va-- the Compromise. Can you hear me?'

'Yeah, but you might not have to. They don't think you're a Federation starbase. There's a long story behind that one. OK, I guess what we're saying is to just hold off for a moment...we think we can get them to stop before anyone gets shot.'

Sam looked over his shoulder. In the Heineken's small rear section, Denis was watching Nick connect his 'borrowed' Valium equipment to the shuttle's communicators.

'Almost got it. Just let me convince this projector that I'm the boss of it. You ready, Jar?'

'But I talked to the doctor,' continued Nick. 'And in all the scenarios, they never quite got around to showing an actual picture of a Meraphysian. So for all they know...'

Nick pointed the holo-projector towards Jared and triggered. Suddenly Jared's appearance was replaced by an orange, scaly humanoid, three-eyed and wearing a grey and brown garment.

'I haven't seen any orange aliens in a while. I didn't wanna get too derivative. You ready?'

'OK. Denis, could you flick the switch on that frequencer? Right. And we're ready to go!'

'Five minutes to commencement of attack,' said Boffo. 'All stations are ready, captain.'

Zr'va'k lowered two eyebrows. This was different. If the Meraphysians were actually using their own signals, this was unlikely to be the same deception yet again. 'On screen, Lieutenant.'

'Yes, sir. Putting it on screen, sir.' The view of the Meraphysian facility disappeared to be replaced by an orange-skinned humanoid.

Zr'va'k stood up. 'I am Captain Ty'skov Zr'va'k of the Federation starship Valium. State your purpose.'

The orange one shuffled a bit, then announced, 'I am...Deraj, High Commander of the Meraphysian...er, High Command.'

Zr'va'k folded her arms. The face of the enemy at last. 'We'll never surrender, Meraphysian. We'll fight to the last officer.'

Deraj waved his (or her) hands in protest, then said, 'Oh, no, we know that. And that's why we're so afraid. Starfleet are all such brave fighters and warriors...we couldn't possibly go on like this, knowing we must ultimately lose.'

'Exactly,' said Zr'va'k, although she had no idea where this conversation might be headed.

'And it's because of this...that I'll be ordering all of the Meraphysian forces to surrender immediately.'

Zr'va'k stared at the screen. Her training even left her for a moment. 'Um, what?'

'You're too good for us! We give up. Bye-bye, the Federation win. We bow to your superior starships and officers, and...things.'

Zr'va'k regained her composure. 'In that case, Deraj, we accept your surrender.'

'Gold. I mean, excellent. I'll have my people contact your people to work out the details, eh? Deraj out.'

'Well done. It worked. Everyone here is running around celebrating the end of the war. I'll contact Starfleet and tell them that the whole charade's finally over.'

'I'm a computer program, Mr Hackney,' said the doctor. 'There's no point chewing me out for anything. Besides, I think the tide has turned now. I think the collective feeling now is that more people are embarrassed about there being an embarrassment in the first place.'

'We'll tell Starbase 63 that we're coming in,' said Sam. 'We might even tell them the full story if they've got a few hours to spare.'

A few spare hours later, a number of people had gathered in Captain April's briefing room. The three Compromise-then-Valium-then-Compromise-again crewmembers were there. So were Euan and Leila, who'd arrived in the Compromise itself. Also present were Captain April and Lieutenant Caramia of Starbase 63.

'A whole artificial war,' Caramia kept saying. 'Even if it is very twisted, it's still impressive that they pulled it off for so long.'

Nick shrugged. 'The whole ship was done up like a giant computer game, complete with shocks and sound effects.'

'Yeah. Think of the Compromise down one end of the scale, and then there's the Valium all the way at the other. All boot-camp, military. So...euwrr.' He shuddered.

'You know,' said Euan. 'A little bit of that on our ship wouldn't hurt matters.'

'Neither would having a strip club on board, but you don't hear me complaining,' said Jared. A pause. 'Yeah, well, not about that, anyway.'

'Huh? Oh, right. Well, I definitely think they'll need some kind of rehabilitation... I'm not sure after that. I guess they could still do pretty well in Starfleet.'

Sam spoke up. 'Actually, Denis should probably be OK. He's not from the same batch as the rest, and he spent most of the time locked away from them.' He turned to Euan. 'Is there any way we can swing him a transfer to the Compromise?'

'Well, if I couldn't get Lieutenant Welles last year, I don't see why I should have to--'

'Thank you,' said Euan. Sometimes it paid to let people win. Assuming that that was what he'd just done.

'I don't think we should take the rest of them, though,' Leila went on. 'They...wouldn't really adjust. And they don't sound very nice.'

A hitherto unheard voice gave a polite cough. 'Actually, I'd like to request that the Valium report to me.'

They all turned to see the new entrant. A man in an expensive suit, his grey hair neatly maintained. April stood to greet him. 'And who might you be, my friend?'

The Starfleet officers all reacted at the mention of the organisation. They weren't exactly mentioned every day.

Lee appeared at the door looking slightly stunned. 'Captain, we just received...' He saw Smarte. 'Oh, you know. Sorry, sir.' He backed out again.

'I know I might not understand the answer, but what does SAGE want with the Valium crew?' asked Caramia.

'Yes,' said Euan. 'I mean, I know it's a bit weird, but it's not what you'd call “paranormal”. They're probably not worth dissecting or anything.'

Smarte looked at him. 'Captain, like so many others, you have a...curious view of our operations. I can't tell you too much, of course, but like any organisation, we need people to work for us. Out in the field.'

April was looking at a terminal. 'The orders are all here. If you want 'em, Mr Smarte...'

Smarte bowed slightly to him. 'Thank you, Captain. We'll make the necessary arrangements. I'll be sure to contact you if I need anything.' And on that, he left.

They made their goodbyes to the Compromise crewmembers and left the briefing room. Euan then turned to Sam, Nick and Jared.

'So,' he said, folding his arms. 'Can you three give me one good reason why I shouldn't court-martial you?'

Leila leant into his ear. 'Because they haven't actually done anything wrong,' she hissed.

'Oh.' Euan looked crestfallen. 'Poo. I was in the mood for a good court-martial. Isn't there anyone I could...'

Euan nodded. 'Right.' He looked back to where the other three boys had already gone to request beer from the replicator. 'You know, I can't help but think I should ask Captain Zr'va'k for a few tips before she goes anywhere.'

[1] Big wuss.

[2] Not very long before, to be fair.

[3] That is, there wasn't very much in it, not that it ate vine leaves and wore robes.

[4] And he wasn't looking at her top to see if she had an extra breast like most Neelablan women. Really. Promise. He wasn't.

[5] All of the worst parts of Nick's biography include the sentence 'before he could stop himself'.

[6] This is an impressive exercise with six digits.

[7] Jared supported Queen's Park Rangers, whereas Ogmar was a fan of Derby County. They figured out in the end that it didn't matter much so long as neither of them supported Ipswich.

[8] He wasn't all that keen on what it might do to their own ship, for that matter.

[9] In fact, discounting a hung-over morning at boot camp, and almost joining the Foreign Legion because he'd read a letter wrong, none at all.

[10] That is to say, Nick still wouldn't have minded sleeping with her, she just didn't appear particularly well at the moment.