By Richard Woodcock
Last time on Star Trek: Fortitude
Scene: Bridge, USS Fortitude, Edge of the Binary Star System
The bridge hummed with restrained energy. Commander Teshla Phyhr stood at the center chair, flanked by tactical readouts and subspace sensor overlays. The rift churned silently on the main viewer, its violet heart pulsing like a wound in space.
“It’s too quiet.” TESHLA said to herself.
She sits in the Captains Chair. The crew remains steady, professional but tension lingers in every breath. She exhales slowly and activates the mission log.
“Personal log, supplemental. Commander Teshla Phyhr, acting CO.”
“The Andorian war-song teaches that battle reveals the heart. I always believed that to mean the heart of the enemy. But now… I understand. It’s our hearts revealed in absence—in the silence that follows when the ones we follow walk into danger, and we remain behind.”
“Admiral Llewellyn leads the mission below. I should be at his side. But he trusts me to hold the line to command his ship. It is a duty I will not fail.”
She glances to a tactical feed—no word from Anastasia. Her antennae lower slightly.
“This rift tears more than space. It tears at certainty. At unity. But I will not let it tear this crew apart. Starfleet stands in that rift because we believe something greater comes from standing together.”
“I just want him to come home.” TESHLA said softly.
Teshla ended the log and taps in a command.
“Computer, compile current logs and sensor telemetry. Encrypt under Command Protocol Twelve. Transmit to Starfleet Command relay node Epsilon.”
[Acknowledged. Transmission in progress.] The computer responded.
“Commander, transmission complete. No signal from the surface yet.” Fasu standing near Ops reported.
“Maintain comm-silence sweep. I want to catch the first syllable of Anastiasia when they check in.” TESHLA ordered as she sat up in the command chair and tugged her uniform jacket down.
And now the continuation:
Scene: Ice valley Approach – Treen Data Uplink
The wind howls across a white desolation as Zulu Team hunkers in a rocky alcove overlooking the valley. CH’KORRAK and VELRA are hunched over a makeshift transceiver, jacked into a long-range Treen comms relay.
“Signal scrubbed. We’re ghosting their network… barely.” CH’Korrak reported.
“Parsing metadata clusters now. Encryption’s dense, but not elegant. Treens are confident—too confident.” Velra spoke alound.
Data scrolls across a makeshift LCARS interface, flickering with red glyph overlays.
“Cross-reference hit—prisoner manifest. Designation: Anomaly Commander. Human. Listed as Level Omega threat. Site: Vault lower level.” Velra spoke up intrigued.
“Execution order?” Reeve asked postering a theory.
“Pending. But they’ve ramped up temporal or dimensional dampeners. He’s not just a prisoner. He’s a liability.” Velra spke with a raised eybrow.
“Either a threat to the Treens—or to reality itself.” CH’Korrak asked checking his rifle again.
“Then we move. Keep it silent until we’re inside. This isn’t just a rescue. It’s a revelation.” Miles ordered nodding to Reeve.
Scene: Ice valley Approach – Unknown building perimeter
Snow flurries swirl across a wind-scoured plateau. In the distance, a jagged, ominous structure juts from the ground—its obsidian walls angular and unnaturally smooth. It doesn’t belong here, half-buried in glacial runoff, patrolled by Treen sentries who look like they’re guarding the Ark of the Covenant. Or possibly their lunch.
Zulu Team crouches atop a ridge, sensors sweeping the horizon.
“Thermal readouts show twenty hostiles. Two plasma turrets. Vault gate looks… overcompensated.” Velra commented over the wind noise.
“They’re either guarding the meaning of life—or something that bites.” Reeve chuckled.
“Do we have a fix on the prisoner?”
Nalora: (tapping tricorder) “Yes. Still breathing. Lower vault. The energy field around him reads like someone tried to laminate time itself.”
“The Treens fear him. That usually means its either deadly… or annoyingly optimistic.” Ssa’kith half answered in a chuckle.
“They call him the ‘anomaly commander.’ Translation: ‘weird dude we don’t like.’” Ch’Korrak answered to no one.
“Level Omega classification. Execution protocol overrides standard detainee procedures.” Velra nodded her response.
“So… VIP treatment. Got it.” Reeve answered.
Scene: Interior on unknown Vault
Zulu Team breaches the outer structure with a series of well-practiced micro-detonations. The corridor lights strobe red. Treen guards drop as the team moves in lethal silence.
“Split formation. Cell Block Omega-2 is our mark. Go silent.” Reeve order pushing ahead with Miles close behind him.
They advance through curved hallways etched with strange glyphs. The architecture hums with power and disdain for right angles.
“Wait a second. These walls… they’re not Treen. They’re… older. Iconian.” Velra reported.
“Oh great. Ancient Iconian. Because that never complicates things.” Ch’Korrak sighed.
“Energy patterns are cross-dimensional. Confirmed multiversal flux. And someone’s singing to the wrong quantum choir.” Velra spoke up looking over her tricorder.
The Team reach a forcefield-shrouded chamber. Behind the transparent barrier stands a battered man in a dark-blue uniform—defiant despite bruises, posture straight.
“Nice of you to drop by. You’re not Treens. Federation?” The unknown prisoner asked?
“That depends. Who’s asking?” Miles asked.
“Call me Dan. Dan Dare. And if you’re here about the rift, then we’ve got a shared headache. Because the Mekon isn’t alone. He’s repurposed a being called Lazarus into a living gateway.” Dan Dare answered.
Zulu Team processes that in silence. Only CH’KORRAK mutters:
“Oh good. Existential collapse. It’s Tuesday.”
“Lazarus? But you’re saying he’s… the key?” Reeve Spoke up.
“He’s the lock, the key, and the wrecking ball. The Mekon’s using him to punch through into your universe and mine. If we don’t shut it down—both are toast.” Dan Dare answered.
Miles lowered his weapon, tapping the forcefield controls he spoke up making a spilt decision that something felt right here “Then we’d better get moving.”
Miles deactivates the field and extends a hand.
“Thanks. May a burrow a rifle?” Dan Dare said shaking Miles hand.
“You’re in luck. We brought plenty.” Ssa’kitch spoke aloud.
Scene: Anastasia – En Route, Low Orbit Holding Pattern
Interior lights hum quietly.
Zulu Team occupies the cabin—geared but weary. Velra hunches over a portable analysis station. Dan Dare sits near the rear, now cleaned up and clad in a borrowed Starfleet away jacket. His eyes scan the icy terrain through a side viewport.
“I’ve completed analysis of the Vault’s data core. The Iconian signal was being used as a carrier… but it wasn’t just stabilizing the rift.” Velra reported.
“Go on.” Reeve asked.
“It was resonating with a signal already present in subspace. A multiversal echo. The Treens weren’t just keeping the rift open—they were expanding its frequency. Tuning it. Like a beacon across realities.” Velra answered.
“To what end? Invasion?” Nalora asked
“Not just invasion. Synchronization. The Mekon wants to merge worlds—mine and yours. He’s looking for a perfect frequency match across universes. Lazarus is the anchor. He’s… fused between both states.” Dan Dare responded.
“So the madman from your myth is now a multidimensional key.” Ch’Korrak asked.
“He was broken between realities for so long, the Mekon found a way to stabilize him—just enough to use him. He’s no longer just one Lazarus. He’s all of them.” Dan Dare responded thoughtfully.
“Then we either free him… or put him down.” Miles answered quietly.
A beat of silence hangs between them. Velra finishes a waveform reconstruction and projects a holographic image—an Iconian matrix threaded with Treen enhancements and… a third pattern, organic and volatile.
“This is the rift signature as it stands. If it completes this cycle—full frequency match—it won’t just bridge our realities. It’ll fuse them. One universe… overwritten by another.” Velra reported.
“What happens if we shut it down mid-phase?” Reeve asked.
“Catastrophic probability spike. Anything caught in the fold could vanish. Or worse.” Velra answered concerned.
“Then we’ll need precision. And help. I’ve seen what happens when the Mekon prepares a war across dimensions. He believes he’s the future of every reality.” Dan Dare responded nodding.
“Admiral. If this rift opens fully—we won’t just lose the planet.” SSA’Kith addresses Miles Llewellyn.
“Then let’s not give him the chance.” Miles answered.
Suddenly, warning klaxons blare. The viewscreen flares with energy. NALORA checks the proximity sensors.
“Treen interceptors inbound—three ships. They’ve tracked our launch!” Nalora pipped up!
“So much for a quiet exfil.” Reeve spoke aloud.
“Everyone brace. We’re taking the fight to the Fortitude.” Miles ordered.
“I assume the Admiral’s ship lives up to its name?” Dan Dare asked.
“She always has.” Miles answered with a grim smile.
The shuttle banks sharply, engines flaring as it pierces the upper atmosphere—racing toward the USS Fortitude, and the gathering storm.
Scene: Bridge – USS Fortitude, Holding at Outer System
The USS Fortitude floats vigilantly at the rim of the star system, its silhouette holding steady in orbit like a poised blade. The lighting is dimmed to tactical amber. Commander Teshla Phyhr stands at the central, antennae twitching as she stares at the main viewscreen, deep in calculation.
“Commander—picking up ion disruption signatures from the lower atmosphere. Anastasia just broke cloud cover.” Akadia reported from Tactical station.
“Is Llewellyn aboard?” Teshla asked?
“Confirmed biosigns match Zulu team… and a new unknown. Human. Not on manifest.” Neku reported.
“Reading pursuit—three Treen interceptors. Fast and angry. They’ve locked onto the shuttle’s exhaust trail.” Akadia reported fingers flying over her console.
Teshla tapped her comm, and dryly ordered “Cmdr White—let’s spin up the Fortitude’s teeth. Looks like someone didn’t RSVP to their own extraction.”
Akadia reported out loud from tactical “Weapons online. Small craft combat profile loaded—config three.“
“Good. Let’s show them what a ship named Fortitude can do.” Teshla responded.
Scene: Shuttle Anastasia, Mid-Dogfight
The shuttle jolts violently as plasma bolts streak overhead. Inside, consoles flicker under the strain. Reeve pilots with grim focus while SSA’KITH handles rear ordinance.
“They’re faster than us in-atmo. If we make orbit, they’ll chew us apart before Fortitude even sees us.” Reeve reported.
“Lovely welcome party. You Federation types always do extractions the hard way?” Dan dare asked?
“We prefer dramatic timing.” Miles answered dryly.
“Incoming—warp signature! One large contact.” Velra reported from her station.
Scene: Bridge – USS Fortitude
“They’re clearing the upper atmosphere… just barely. Shuttle shields failing—twenty percent.” Akadia reported from tactical station.
“Target the lead interceptor. Phasers only. No debris on our pilot’s windshield.” Teshla responded rising from the captain’s chair.
“Firing solution acquired. Delivering now.” Akadia reported.
The USS Fortitude streaks across the horizon, phasers blazing in tight, controlled bursts. The lead Treen fighter explodes in a fireball that sends the others scattering.
“There’s our ride.” Reeve spoke up smiling and grinning like a Cheshire cat!”
“That’s your ship? Elegant, focused, and blunt as a headbutt. I like it.” Dan Dare spoke up peering forward from over the pilot chair.
“She’s brand new, I think its her first real fight!” Miles answered looking at Dan.
“Brace—looping toward the hangar!” SSA’Kitch reported.
“Remaining Treen vessels disengaging. Fleeing back into lower orbit. No further pursuit.” Neku reported from Science station.
“Hold position at the edge of the system. No need to overplay our advantage. Let them guess what we’ll do next.” Teshla ordered.
“Anastasia approaching main Hanger Bay”. Rose Harrington reported from operations.
“Prep medical. Hot cocoa if we’re lucky.” Teshla responded heading to the turbolift.
Scene: Hangar Bay – USS Fortitude
The Anastasia touches down hard, venting steam. Hazard Team disembarks, tired but intact. Teshla watches from the upper deck, arms folded, as Llewellyn walks down the ramp beside a clearly unfamiliar new companion before exiting to great the team.
“You’re late, Admiral.” Teshla reported.
“Got you a souvenir.” Miles jokingly responded.
“Colonel Dan Dare, Spacefleet. Temporarily displaced, recently not-executed. And very much in your debt.” Dan Dare answered saluting crisply.
“You’re not on the roster.” Teshla nodded back eyebrow raising.
“Neither was the rift trying to swallow our realities.” Dan Dare retorted.
“Let’s get briefed. The real war may just be starting.” Miles responded grinning.
Dan Dare walks beside Admiral Llewellyn, eyes scanning the hull of the shuttle that had saved his life. His pace slows as he sees the shuttle’s nameplate.
“Anastasia…” Dan Dare spoke quitely.
He steps closer, fingers brushing the lettering on the hull. His face tightens, emotion flickering beneath his composed exterior.
“Something wrong?” Miles asked?
“That’s the name of my personal command vessel. Back home. Anastasia. She’s been with me through every campaign, every loss.” Dan Dare answered.
He straightens and gives a small, knowing smile.
“Funny thing, Admiral. You chose that name here—on a ship that wasn’t mine—but it still found its way across the stars.” Dan Dare finally spoke.
“We assigned the name, random list, no significance. Until now.” Miles looked back at Dan.
“Nothing in the multiverse is truly random. Sometimes… the right names just echo across time and possibility.” Dan Dare answered with a smile and a wink.
Dan Dare rested his hand on the hull for one last moment, then turns to Llewellyn.
“Take care of her. She’s got a knack for surviving the impossible.” Dan Dare spoke.
“Then she’s in the right fleet.” Miles answered.
They both walk on as sparks fly behind them and the shuttle begins to shine under fresh Armor plating.
NRPG:
And so the games Afoot! 😉