Reflections in the Dark
Posted on Thu Jun 11th, 2026 @ 11:55pm by Captain Rhenora Kaylen & Commander Jennifer Baldric & Commander Dean House & Lieutenant JG T'Lar & Lieutenant Commander Bonnie "Bon-Bon" Durnell & Remal Kajun
2,851 words; about a 14 minute read
Mission:
Pirates!
Location: Badlands
"A trap is merely a battlefield where one side arrived early."
I.S.S. Sunfire – Bridge
The Federation captain was smarter than most. Remal could see it immediately. The tactical display showed the Bristol holding position instead of advancing. Shield geometry had shifted. Sensor sweeps overlapped. Escape vectors had already been calculated and transmitted to the second vessel. They were preparing for an ambush. The irony almost amused him.
"Captain," Tactical reported. "The lead vessel is conducting a displacement analysis."
"They've found us," Bonnie observed, not implying a question.
Remal's eyes remained fixed upon the display. The Federation ship had not located them precisely, not yet. But they had located enough. Enough was often all a competent captain required. "How long?"
"Three minutes, perhaps less."
The bridge remained calm. Around them the Badlands burned with silent storms and rivers of plasma. Ahead, the two Federation ships waited in formation, searching the darkness. Behind them waited the portal, and the Marshal.
Remal's jaw tightened once. The cloak had served its purpose while it lasted. "Prepare to launch all attack craft." The order moved instantly through the ship.
Deep inside the massive hangar bay, alert klaxons sounded. Pilots ran for their vessels. Attack craft lifted from deck clamps. Engines ignited. Their mission was simple. Kill the Woolloomooloo. The smaller vessel represented mobility, sensors, and escape. Removing it would leave the Bristol alone.
Bonnie never looked away from her console. Her fingers moved across the controls with practiced ease. "I am inside their network."
Several bridge officers exchanged glances. Nobody asked how.
Bonnie's smile reflected faintly in the glow of her display. The Federation ships continued scanning space. Continued transmitting. Continued trusting their own systems. That trust was already becoming a weapon. "Navigation errors uploaded. Tactical targeting drift uploaded. Internal sensor ghosts uploaded." Each statement sounded almost conversational.
Across the bridge, the Ferengi swallowed hard. He had noticed the same thing everyone else had. The cloak and its failure. The Federation captain had found it. The realization finally arrived, slowly, painfully. Terminally.
His eyes drifted toward Remal, then towards Bonnie, and finally towards the exit. Bonnie's hand moved. Nobody saw the motion itself. Only the result. A tiny silver flash crossed the bridge. The Ferengi blinked and touched his throat. Confusion appeared first, then horror, and then nothing at all.
His body folded silently to the deck. The dart protruding from his neck was almost invisible. Bonnie returned her attention to the console. "Loose end resolved."
No one reacted. No one commented. The corpse remained where it fell.
Remal finally rose from the command chair. The moment had arrived. "Drop cloak." The stars exploded back onto the viewscreen. The I.S.S. Sunfire appeared above and behind the Federation formation like a predator emerging from deep water. Exactly where Remal wanted it. Above them, dorsal aspect, high and fast.
Red alert lighting bathed the bridge in crimson. Outside, plasma storms illuminated the dark hull of the raider. Remal stared at the enemy vessel. A hunter's calm settled over him.
"Attack craft engage the secondary vessel."
Bonnie's smile widened slightly. "Federation targeting solutions are now incorrect."
Remal clasped his hands behind his back. The hunt was over. The execution was just beginning. "Unleash Hell."
USS Bristol - Bridge
"Captain enemy ship decloaking at bearing 180 mark 2, it's targeting the Woolloomooloo" the tactical officer snapped efficiently.
"Red alert, battle stations, bring us about" Bozeman orderex, and the bridge plunged into a deep crimson, designed to focus attention without hindering efficiency.
" Shields at 100%, weapons systems online. Targeting is.... wait.... glitchy" the tactical officer's hands flew over the console.
"Say again?" Bozeman snapped, turning in his chair at face the tactical officer.
"I can't get a positive lock, every time the system locks on it freezes and throws the lock 10km off. Attempting to compensate"
"Assume a defensive position and coordinate with the Woolloomooloo" Bozeman replied. He had a bad feeling about this.
I.S.S. Sunfire – Bridge
Bonnie's fingers continued their quiet dance across the console. Streams of Federation telemetry scrolled through windows only she seemed capable of reading at a glance. A faint smile touched her lips. "Captain."
Remal did not look away from the tactical display. "Report."
"The Bristol shield harmonics are collapsing under conflicting targeting corrections." She tapped one final command. "Their forward shield grid is now operating at forty-eight percent efficiency."
The bridge grew a little quieter. Bonnie's smile widened by a fraction. "They believe they are compensating."
Remal absorbed the information without visible reaction.
"Which means?" one of the tactical officers asked carefully.
Bonnie glanced toward him. "It means they're helping me."
A few nearby officers suddenly found reasons to focus very hard on their own consoles. Before anyone could respond, another voice cut across the bridge.
"Attack Squadron Aurek reporting in." The lead fighter appeared on the tactical display, weaving through plasma storms and weapons fire with reckless confidence. "We're all over the little one, sir. Their shields are down to fifteen percent already." Laughter crackled briefly across the channel. "Permission to finish the job?"
Remal's expression hardened immediately. The pilot's amusement vanished. "Your assignment is not glory." The bridge seemed to cool several degrees. "It is destruction."
The fighter pilot straightened audibly. "Understood, Captain."
"Maintain formation discipline and continue pressure until the vessel ceases to exist." Remal's gaze remained fixed upon the display.
"Understood, Captain." The channel closed.
Bonnie chuckled softly. "They seemed happy."
"Happiness is not a combat doctrine." Remal stepped forward one pace. The tactical display showed exactly what he needed to see.
The Bristol was turning. Their weakened shield arc. The exposed dorsal profile. A Federation captain trying to protect his companion ship. "Helm."
"Sir?"
"Bring us around for another attack run." The massive carrier rolled smoothly through the burning storms. Outside the viewscreen, plasma lightning illuminated the dark hull as it accelerated directly toward the Federation cruiser. "Target the dorsal shield grid and forward torpedo assembly."
The weapons officer's hands moved instantly. "Target locked."
Remal's eyes narrowed slightly. "Full phasers." A heartbeat later, "Full photon spread."
The bridge lighting flashed crimson as weapon capacitors surged toward overload. Ahead, the Bristol filled the viewscreen. Trying to turn. Trying to recover. Trying to survive. "Fire."
Outside, crimson phaser beams erupted from the I.S.S. Sunfire alongside a wave of photon torpedoes, all of it descending from above like the judgment of an angry god.
And somewhere beyond the storms, the hourglass Marshal Kaylen had handed him continued to empty grain by grain.
I.S.S. Sunfire – Sickbay
Dean was indeed still there with them, and then he wasn't. Meaning the man just flatlined.
Sarah blinked a moment. Regardless of what she thought, he was still important. Pushing double the dose of Epinephrintiasin. Giving a look back as everyone else moved back. Still no heartbeat. She called for 500 joules to ready. "Clear!"
Dean's body jolted, his body arching off of the biobed torso upwards and curved before landing back down on the biobed with a thud. Still no heartbeat.
"We are not disappointing them," Sarah grit her teeth for a moment. "You, 35 mg Epinephrintasin." She pointed to another, "Charge to 750 joules." She met the fixing to be objection with the back of her hand striking the Nurse's cheek. The Nurse quickly did as told. "Clear!"
The second shock and the drugs seemed to do their job. Dean took in a long hard breath and sat up at the waist quickly. "What the hell. You were there, you were there, you were there and we were having sex all over Sickbay. I don't look any different," Dean held up his arm and looked it over.
Sarah slapped him, hard across the face. "You are most definitely NOT my type, and that was for even suggesting it"
She said sharply, before turning a tricorder on him. Dean's hands began to glow a golden yellow.
"Good, the genetic code is being taken up. It will cause discomfort, but suck it up."
"Um...are my hand suppose to be glowing yellow." Dean held said hands up, which were glowing. "Oh and Apparently I'm a Compass now. I can feel what direction and location of where she is. OR he is."If I wanted to piss out of my fingers, I would have a cathader attached to my finger"
"I need to report this to Remal, he will be most pleased" Sarah replied "Come, you can show him"
USS Bristol - Bridge
The tactical overlay painted the incoming barrage across the viewscreen in bright red vectors, descending from above the ship's dorsal plane. The exact approach he had been trying to prevent. The bridge shuddered violently. A sheet of crimson energy raked across the dorsal shields, flooding the viewscreen with white static. Consoles sparked. Several crew members grabbed for their stations as inertial compensators struggled to keep pace with the punishment.
"Shields collapsing on the dorsal grid!" Tactical shouted. "Forty-one percent... thirty-six..." The second volley struck before the first damage reports had finished scrolling.
This time the impact felt deeper. Not a blow against the shields. A blow through them. The ship groaned. A terrible metallic sound echoed through the deck plating as structural members absorbed stresses they had never been designed to carry.
Then the photon torpedoes arrived. One. Two. Three. Each detonation erupted across the weakened shield arc like miniature suns. The bridge lighting flickered. Several consoles exploded outright. The tactical officer was thrown from her chair as a shower of sparks erupted from the bulkhead behind her.
"Forward torpedo assembly has taken damage!" Operations yelled. "Launcher one is offline. Launcher two is not responding."
Bozeman gripped the armrests of his chair hard enough for his knuckles to pale. The enemy captain knew exactly where to hit. This was not random destruction. This was surgical destruction.
"Get us the hell out of here" He ordered as the Woolloomoloo was swarmed by fighters and destroyed in swift order. Their assistance was gone, their shields blown, and their hull starting to resemble swiss cheese. They were not going to win this fight.
USS Bristol - Brig
Prime Baldric bounced off the wall as the explosions rang loud through the ship, the deck bucked beneath them, shaking then pitching hard to port as the ship battled the forces angled against it.
"They're trying to fight and run at the same time. Bad move - commit to one or the other" Baldric murmured as the ship groaned again, the force fields flickering before dropping completely. The guards levelled phasers at them.
"Don't even think about it"
MU T'Lar was similarly tossed around, picking herself up off of the floor. She glared at the guards.
"Where do you think we would go? This ship is our only hope of getting out of here alive, and right now your captain is failing in that regard."
"The Captain is doing what he can" the Guard replied without lowering his weapon.
"Lieutenant, I know you don't trust us and there is no time to prove it to you, but T'Lar here can assist your Captain. She knows their tactics, their strategy." Jennifer attempted, knowing she would probably be shut down.
The guard paused, and conversed with his superior. "You can have a comlink to the bridge, and a visual screen. One wrong word, and it's gone" the guard returned.
T'Lar strode over to the companel. "Captain, if all is going to their battle plan, the Sunfire has infiltrated your network and compromised your targeting and shields. You need to re-initialize those systems. In addition you need to transmit this code 1A656212DOT on frequency 216.58. That will take the Sunfire's shields and weapons offline and stop them from being able to infiltrate your network any further."
T'Lar repeated the code and frequency.
USS Bristol - Bridge
On the bridge Bozeman hesitated, realising that without shields or weapons they would be defenceless.
"Tactical, how long would it take to reinitialise our systems?" He asked, hoping the talented Commander could shave some seconds off the standard reboot time.
"90 seconds, I may be able to target manually in that time with one torpedo tube." The Tactical officer confirmed.
Bozeman froze. 90 seconds was a long time. "Can we warp jump? Just enough to buy us time?" It was a crazy idea.
"Maybe, we could also blow ourselves and the Badlands up in the process. It's not been done" the helm replied.
"Send the data packet to the Sunfire... and warp jump while we reinitialise our systems" Bozeman ordered.
I.S.S. Sunfire – Bridge
The battle continued to unfold across the tactical display in rivers of crimson and gold. Attack Squadron Aurek carved through the storms with ruthless efficiency, their craft weaving between plasma surges while concentrated weapons fire hammered the Woolloomooloo from every direction. Shield readings collapsed. Structural integrity alarms blossomed across the Federation vessel. Then, with a final cascade of explosions, the contact vanished entirely from the display.
A tactical officer straightened in his chair. "Captain, the Woo-loo-ma-loo-goo has been destroyed." Several heads turned. The officer frowned at his console. "The Woola-moola-loo."
Bonnie's shoulders twitched as she cringed.
"The Woo-moo-loo-loo." A nearby operations officer suddenly became fascinated by his display. The tactical officer exhaled heavily. "Fuck it. The little one has been destroyed."
For the briefest moment, laughter threatened to spread across the bridge. Remal closed his eyes once, a gesture so small most missed it entirely. When he opened them again his expression had returned to its usual calm. "Noted." His gaze returned to the tactical display. "Recall the fighters. Their assignment is complete."
Acknowledgements rippled across the bridge. Deep within the ship, attack squadrons began breaking formation and turning back toward the carrier. The order had scarcely been issued before a sharp alarm erupted across the bridge, cutting through the lingering amusement like a blade.
The tactical officer's posture stiffened instantly. "Captain!" Every head turned toward the forward displays as shield indicators began falling in real time. "Our shields are dropping."
Remal's attention snapped toward the tactical station. "What?!"
Numbers continued descending across the display.
98%.
92%.
87%.
73%
Across the bridge Bonnie's practiced and steady fingers flew over her console. Streams of code cascaded down her displays while her expression hardened into something far less pleasant than amusement. "I've been locked out of the Bristol."
Remal turned toward her immediately. "Explain."
"A command-level authorization just kicked me out of the Bristol's systems." Her hands continued moving, faster now, angrier. "One of our own security chains."
The realization arrived simultaneously. "T'Lar." The name left Remal's mouth like a curse.
Bonnie nodded once without looking up from her console. "T'Lar."
Silence settled briefly across the bridge. Several officers exchanged glances before returning their attention to their stations. Nobody appeared eager to contribute further.
Remal's jaw tightened visibly. "If I ever see her again, I will kill her myself."
Bonnie's fingers never paused. "Join the queue."
Another warning tone sounded. Ahead of them, the Bristol still occupied the center of the tactical display. Damaged and wounded but still very much alive.
Remal stared at the Federation vessel for several seconds. The anger remained. It simply condensed into something colder. Something useful. "All weapons."
The bridge grew still. The weapons officer looked up. "Captain?"
Remal never took his eyes from the viewscreen. Beyond it, plasma storms illuminated the battered Federation cruiser as it struggled to escape.
"Everything."
Acknowledgements came immediately. Weapon capacitors surged toward overload. Phaser arrays brightened across the hull. Photon launchers cycled and armed. The I.S.S. Sunfire accelerated through the storms like a spear aimed directly at its prey.
"Torpedoes ready."
"Phasers ready."
The bridge lighting flashed crimson beneath the strain of charging systems. Remal stood motionless at the center of it all. "Fire."
The void erupted. Crimson beams lanced across space. Photon torpedoes poured from their launchers in a wave of incandescent destruction. The barrage crossed the distance in seconds, enough firepower to break a starship apart several times over.
Then it struck...
...nothing. The Bristol vanished. For a single impossible moment, the ship remained exactly where it should have been. A perfect image hanging in space while the barrage tore through it.
No explosions followed. No debris. No expanding cloud of plasma and atmosphere. The image simply dissolved. A ghost.
The bridge fell silent. Bonnie stared at her display. The tactical officer blinked twice. One of the younger crewmen whispered, "What?"
Remal remained perfectly still as the answer assembled itself in his mind. The Bristol had not survived through luck. It had survived through nerve. While T'Lar crippled the Sunfire's advantage, Bozeman had committed to an emergency warp jump and left a phantom behind for them to kill.
The Federation captain had gambled everything on a single play. The corner of Remal's mouth moved almost imperceptibly. Not amusement, per se', recognition. "Find them."
TBC
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