Subject: FRONTIER: Revelations and Celebrations

SD 80412


Once the effect of the inclusion drive had subsided, m-Caroline said, "Mr. 
Murray, open all shipboard audio channels."

"Channels open, Captain," said m-Angus, not entirely sure what she was
about to do.

m-Caroline stood from her chair and walked to the front of the bridge to 
address everybody.  "This is the Captain speaking.  As some of you are 
aware, I am of the opinion that the days of the Empire's tyrrany are 
numbered.  To that effect, I am implementing several of Mr. Murray's ideas 
in an attempt to start a covert resistance movement.  All stations will 
prepare for our return as per his instruction.  That is all."

m-Angus terminated the audio, not quite sure what to say.  He was spared by 
m-Caroline who added, "I've something to discuss with you.  In private."  
She indicated the ready room.

He left his station to m-Patrick and followed her into the luxurious
office.  Once the doors had closed he said, "I see you made your decision."

She nodded silently, then after a few moments added, "I figured you could
do with a break.  Now," she extended a hand across the desk, "fresh start,
day one."

m-Angus shook her hand firmly, a great tension being finally relieved.
"You can count on my support, Captain."

She smiled and leaned back in her seat, "Okay, like I said, you'll be in 
charge of covering up everything that happened.  I need a first-class
excuse if we're to avoid being relegated out of our positions.  Get down to
the computer core and start re-organising history."

"No problem," he replied, turning to leave.

"Angus, how is Patrick taking the news?" she said abruptly.

m-Angus turned back to face her.  "I'm not sure if he knows what to do.
For the moment he's inclined to give it a try."

"I see," she said quietly. "That's all."

As m-Angus exited, she sent a signal to the Tactical station for 
m-Patrick's eyes only.  After about a minute, the doors slid open as he 
walked in.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes, Patrick.  Have you reached a decision yet?"

Patrick considered it for a while, "I think we should give it a try."

She stood from the chair, inched her way around the desk, looking up at him
with a visibly relieved expression.  After coming to a stop in front of the
desk, Caroline reached forward to grasp his hand.  Looking down on it then 
back at him she said, "I hoped you would say that."

He put his hands about her waist and sat her on the table, "There is one 
problem of course."

"Which is?" she asked.

He grinned, "I want Angus to be the best man."

She smiled sweetly, "He and I just put our differences aside... I don't see
that being a problem."

He reached down and kissed her, "Then what more need be said?"

"Never a truer word said," she replied, kneeling on the desk to kiss him 


"I think this calls for a celebration," said Sykes finally.

"Good idea," said Ramsay.  "How about tonight, in 2-Backward?"

"You're the captain, you decide," replied Sykes.

Ramsay tapped a comm panel, set it to broadcast across the ship.  "This is 
the captain speaking.  Tonight, at the beginning of Gamma shift, there will 
be a celebration to mark both the birth of my son, and the end of our 
mission.  All crew members welcome."  He blanked the panel, "Any critical 
patients, Doctor?"

"Well, I really should stay here in Sickbay.  We'll have our own 
celebration, if you don't mind."

"Not at all," said Ramsay.  Just then his wristcom bleeped - it was Keanu 
Maren with a damage report.

It wasn't too encouraging, and after Keanu had signed off with his 
congratulations Ramsay sent a reminder to the chief engineer to make sure 
he left someone to watch Engineering.

"Do you feel good enough to make an appearance at the party?" he asked 

She looked at him curiously, "Sure.  Just don't get too carried away, huh?"

"Right.  Doctor?"

Sykes crossed the room in a few paces, "What is it, Captain?"

"Can you release Caroline in time for the celebration?"

"Don't see why not, but she should try to get as much rest as she can get. 
And you may very well have to stay up to watch your kid.  Get what I mean?"
said Sykes.  He walked away to tend to another patient.

"Let's stop off at our quarters first," suggested Will, "find you a 
nice dress, and get changed."

"Right."  She got up and swiped a lab coat, picked up the baby and walked 
out with her husband.

Lynne Smythe's quarters

As she listened to the captain's announcement, Lynne realised she had been 
in such a rush to get settled into these quarters - she hadn't even got 
round to replicating clothes to change into.  Well, there was no time like 
the present.

After putting together a nice outfit for tonight, and some casual off-duty 
garments for day-to-day use, she dispatched the order to the replicator and
waited.  A brief period of time passed, perhaps only a minute, while the 
computer processed the request.  There was a shimmer of light in the alcove
as the energy patterns took on substance, and Lynne picked up the pile of  
clothes and laid them on the bed for now.

Picking up the long dark dress, she placed it against herself and looked
in the mirror.  Not bad, she mused, but a little more time spent would have
produced something better.  Whilst changing into the flattering dress, she 
picked up a brush and smartened up her tumbling brown curls.  Dusting a few
stray hairs from her shoulders, she smiled to nobody in particular and set 
off for the party.

FRONTIER Engineering

Keanu walked in and in a few minutes noticed the captain's message. After
reading it, he shouted to Festore, "Hey Neil, you mind watching Engineering
tonight? It's just..."

Neil briefly mulled it over, decided Joanna could probably do without him 
for one night at least, "Sure, I fancied a quiet night anyhow."


David Ferrost's quarters

"Typical," muttered David as he heard the party notice.  "Well, I can 
hardly miss that."

He finished his ministrations to the now-he-hoped-functional replicator, 
banged his head exiting the cramped access space too quickly, and groggily 
rose to see if the stuff he had replicated earlier (before the bloody thing
had packed up) was worth wearing.

Donning the dark trousers and light blue shirt, he grabbed a colourful 
waistcoat and did a brief turnabout in the mirror to verify the suitability
of this combo.

It seemed okay so he checked with Cralk, the bartender at 2-Backward, to 
see if there was a specific time set for the party.

[Naw Dave, everybody's coming and going as they please, mind you since the 
captain made that announcement there's been more coming than going.  I 
think I'm gonna dig out my secret stash of twenty-third wines, might be the
right time.]

David was as always impressed by the Bolian's ability to expatiate.  "Well,
I'll be down soon.  See you."

Joanna Houston's quarters

As Joanna prepared for the celebration party, slipping into a daring
low-backed black dress, her wristcom bleeped.

[Joanna, this is Neil.  I'm afraid I won't be able to make it to the party 
tonight, I've got to watch Engineering.]

"Why don't I take the watch with you?" she inquired, preferring to spend
the night with him if it were practical.

[Nah, you go on and have a good time.  See you in the morning.]

"Very well, Neil."

Joanna wasn't sure if she would 'have a good time', but she decided that 
going to see Neil in Engineering might well distract him, possibly even 
annoy him since he'd told her to go to the celebration party.  She finished 
adjusting the dress, brushed a stray lock of hair from her brow, and walked 
out and down the corridor into 2-Backward.  Taking a seat by the viewing 
window, she gazed out into the warp starfield.

FRONTIER 2-Backward

Cralk looked around the lounge and when nobody seemed to notice, snuck out 
the door and down the corridor to his quarters.  Removing a false panel in 
the floor, he lugged a half-dozen small crates out, then replaced the 
panel.  He opened each crate, inspecting for possible breakages in light of
the recent ups and downs... and lefts and rights.  Finding none, he took 
them two at a time through to 2-Backward, stowing them behind the bar.  
That done, he resumed his work at the bar as if nothing had happened.

Of course, someone had seen him, but Cralk wasn't worried - he wanted word 
to get around, just not too quickly.  It would not do to have a score of 
wannabe connoisseurs screaming at him.

Commodore Riker, feeling not-too-out-of-place-honest-man, approached with a
nonchalant smile and asked, "What's in the crates?"

Cralk whispered, "Twenty-third century wines, from assorted cultures.  A 
few low-key Orion brands, some fairly 'hot' Klingon blood-wine, and a few 
bottles from a vineyard in New Orleans on Earth."

"Not bad," grinned Riker.  "You, uh, particularly attached to the New 
Orleans wine?  It's just..."

"Well I think I might just open one for you, sir.  One moment."  Cralk 
reached under the bar and plucked a glass bottle from the second shelf, 
collecting a glass with his other hand.  He stood for a moment gazing at 
the bottle at half-an-arm's-length, "Bottled in 2267.  Here goes."  He set 
the glass down and opened the bottle.  Inhaling a little of the fragrance, 
he began to slowly pour the wine.

When he was done, Riker picked up the glass and studied the wine carefully.
Taking a sip, he savoured the taste in a technique that had been refined 
countless centuries.  A half-minute or so later he told Cralk, "Good year. 
Not bad for twenty-third."

David Ferrost arrived just then and took up a seat next to Riker.  "Cralk, 
you got any of that Klingon blood-wine?" he asked.  Glancing at the man 
sitting next to him, he suddenly paled with surprise, "Are you-"

"Commodore William T. Riker, yes," said Riker as she shook the ensign's 
hand warmly.  "At least someone listened at the Academy," he remarked 
somewhat soberly.

"You went MIA last century and Starfleet pretended you didn't exist," 
recalled David curiously.

"Your android friend found me in a hibernation chamber, I hadn't aged a day
for twenty-six years.  So, how is life in the twenty-fifth century?"

"Well," began David, his attention momentarily diverted by a cute little 
brunette walking in the door, "Technology-wise we've seen the likes of the 
phaser cannon and dimensional warp take off in a big way.  The Galaxy-class
of your day is still around but now there's the heavier Olympic and 
Ceaser-class ships.  Politically there's been a few moves toward peace but 
nothing major.  And there was of course the downfall of the Kzinti 

"Looks like I've got a lot of catching up to do.  Right now a little 
relaxation wouldn't go amiss, even considering the amount of time I had to 
do that," Riker grinned.

"Say, have you met the captain yet?" asked David.  "He's supposed to be 
visiting 2-Backward with his wife."  His eyes caught that 
damned-nice-looking brunette again, and he looked appreciatively at the 
slinky black number she was wearing.

"Can't say I have, but I'm looking forward to it.  Might be nice to see 
what today's command material is like," Riker replied, finally realising 
what David was so engrossed by, and not too surprised.

David frowned and added, "This is his first command, before this he was an 
Ops Manager."

"Oh. So he's not a-"

"No, nobody on board has a Starfleet rank surpassing Junior Lieutenant.  
From what I pick up, there was a number of reasons for it, but anyway they 
had to draw up some sort of rank structure.  Silver square pips instead of 
round gold ones.  Bloody annoying if you ask me.  I've managed to work out 
that six makes a captain, but beyond that I haven't a clue."

"I'd already gathered this isn't an official Starfleet operation," smiled 
Riker.  "Say, is that them?" he pointed to the door.


As Ramsay entered the busy lounge, he yelled, "Can I have your attention 

The noise died out and he continued, "In commemoration of comrades lost in 
action, I propose a two-minute silence before festivities get underway."

There was a general murmer of consensus, and he nodded to start the silent 
rememberance.  Caroline hushed the baby as best she could.

The quietness lasted and pervaded the lounge for the full two minutes.  
There was a general air of eerieness about it perhaps due to the rainbow 
coloured streamer erupting from one of the engine nacelles.  The time 
elapsed, Ramsay said to those gathered there, "Thank you."

The noise and chatter resumed, a few people at a time attracted by the 
lucky couple and their child.

Riker eventually got his chance.  He shook Ramsay by the hand, 
"Congratulations.  I'm Commodore William T. Riker, as you may have heard."

They were impressed.  "Houston mentioned you were in a hibernation pod of 
some sort," commented Ramsay.  "We found what looked like debris and a 
flight recorder, but unfortunately it doesn't seem to be with us."

"That's too bad," smiled Riker, "I was kinda looking forward to finding out
what blasted my shuttle to pieces.  Why the pod remained intact.  A lot of 

"We're heading home at best speed, we might just reach Epsilon in a couple 
of days.  Of course, the warp core might just go critical and blow the 
whole ship apart, it's going to be a tough journey."

"I see."

Keanu walked in, the lively atmosphere of the party hitting him instantly.  
He looked around, there were various groups of people clustered around 
tables.  There was one, over by the viewing port, that seated just one 
person.  He couldn't see her face, but she was motionless, gazing out into 

He knew what he was thinking was silly; androids don't get upset, or
lonely, or depressed.  Still, Keanu walked over to that one table, took the
seat opposite Houston and said, "Hi."

                          Respectfully submitted:

      S            [Captain] William Ramsay, CO FRONTIER             S
    D   A          [Cmdr] Caroline Ramsay, rodXO FRONTIER          A   D
  R       M        [Lt.Cmdr] Joanna Houston, aXO FRONTIER        M       R
A       M                                                          M       A
  W   E       "He said, `You're too late.  We're everywhere'."       E   W
    D                       Odo, Star Trek: DS9                        D

                          with Allan MacLennan as
                       the alternate Patrick Simony

Frontier Logs