After fifteen years as a newspaper reporter and editor, Kevin Dilmore turned his full attention to his freelance writing career in 2003. Since 1997, he has been a contributing writer to Star Trek Communicator, writing news stories and personality profiles for the bimonthly publication of the Official Star Trek Fan Club. With Dayton Ward, he has written seven installments of the continuing eBook series Star Trek: S.C.E. as well as the Star Trek: The Next Generation novels A Time to Sow and A Time to Harvest. On his own, he wrote the story “The Road to Edos” for Star Trek: New Frontier: No Limits, and also conducted interviews with some of Star Trek’s most popular authors in the Star Trek Signature Editions series of trade paperbacks. A graduate of the University of Kansas, Kevin lives in Prairie Village, Kansas, with his wife Michelle and their three daughters.

  Kieran Duffy was sweating like a pig.

  More than once, he had to stop what he was doing and wipe perspiration from his face. Even with his damp uniform tunic sticking to his back and chest, the chilled air inside the wreckage of the Breen scout ship did not cool him.

  Clock’s ticking, Duff. Hurry up.

  He would have loved a chance to study the vessel’s onboard systems in more detail. It was a natural inclination for any technical specialist, whether or not they served with the Starfleet Corps of Engineers as Duffy currently did. Unfortunately, time was a luxury he did not possess. He would instead have to content himself with retrieving the one piece of equipment they had come for in the first place and getting away from this uninhabited world of Lamenda Prime, hopefully before alerting anyone in the area to their presence.

  “Hold on a second,” said Fabian Stevens. Duffy turned to where his shipmate and friend crouched next to him, a frustrated expression on his face. Both men hunkered down at the rear of the ship’s cramped passenger area, aided only by the feeble illumination of their worklights as they worked to extricate one of the vessel’s control consoles.

  “Another sneak circuit,” Stevens said, holding up his tricorder for emphasis. The device’s status indicators glowed in the near darkness as he used it to point inside the console’s open panel. “See the small cylinder there? A battery-operated, miniaturized transmitter.” Indicating the small laser-cutting tool in his other hand, he added, “Cut the connection between it and the panel, it sends a signal back to the explosive cartridge we thought we’d bypassed half an hour ago.”

  Duffy sighed in exasperation. After nearly an hour scanning the workstation with their tricorders and moving with agonizing slowness to sever the numerous connections linking the console to various onboard systems, both men were well past the first tinges of frustration.

  Damned thing’s fighting us every step of the way.

  Supposedly, “the thing” was a prototype for a new form of encryption technology conceived by the Breen, at least if the briefing given to Duffy and the other members of the U.S.S. da Vinci’s S.C.E. team was accurate. The engineer knew enough about the success Starfleet had enjoyed breaking enemy communications codes to realize the implications of this new development.

  According to Commander Hrevet, the Starfleet Intelligence agent assigned to oversee the recovery operation, the deployment of such technology among Breen ships as well as those of the Jem’Hadar and the Cardassians would deal a massive setback to the Federation and its allies. Breaking the new codes would require time—weeks if not months. Therefore, acquiring information on the new mechanism was a top priority, even if getting it was proving to be a colossal headache.

  “Direct shielded interfaces to the ship’s computer and the communications system,” Duffy said, “along with a separate central processor and data storage.” It was an easy guess that this part of the device stored and executed the encoding and decoding subroutines, both from within protected computer memory. “And on top of it all, four different methods of self-destruct.” Shaking his head, he added, “They weren’t kidding around when they built this thing.”

  Studying his tricorder once more, Stevens paused to wipe sweat-matted locks of black hair from his eyes. “At this rate, it’ll take us at least another hour to get this thing removed along with all of its accompanying hardware, and that’s if we don’t find any more booby traps.”

  “Are you saying you can’t do it?” a stern voice asked from behind them. Turning, Duffy had to look around for a moment before he saw the speaker, Commander Hrevet, standing just inside the scout ship’s open hatchway and cradling a Type-III phaser rifle in her arms. Like the rest of the away team, the Bolian was dressed in the black uniform variant worn by Starfleet ground forces. Only the red departmental stripe across her chest and the tinge of her powder blue skin prevented her from blending into the shadows of the vessel’s interior.

  “That’s not what he said,” Duffy replied, irritation lacing every word. “What he said was that it would take time.”

  Hrevet, regarding him with narrowed eyes and a mouth held tightly shut in a thin line, seemed unimpressed with Duffy’s clarification. Instead, she turned away from the engineers, muttering something he could not hear as she stepped outside the ship to where she had placed the body of the ship’s lone occupant. Duffy watched as the Bolian knelt and gazed down at the human’s lifeless form for several seconds before slowly shaking her head.

  “How well did you know him?” Duffy asked.

  The man, identified by Hrevet as Commander Tobias Donovan, was dead when the away team arrived and forced the scout ship’s hatch open. Duffy knew nothing about the man save for the information Hrevet had passed on during the premission briefing. Also an Intelligence operative, Donovan had infiltrated a Breen installation in the Kavarian system with the original mission of kidnapping the scientist responsible for developing the new encryption device.

  “Well enough to expect that he’d try something like this,” Hrevet replied.

  According to encoded communications he had sent, Donovan’s mission had failed and forced him to improvise, a desperate action resulting in the killing of the Breen scientist and the destruction of his computer records. That accomplished, the agent escaped with the scout ship, already outfitted with the encryption prototype.

  Reaching down, Hrevet adjusted the fold on the emergency blanket in which she had wrapped Donovan’s body, preparing her fallen comrade for transport back to the da Vinci and, ultimately, to Earth for final interment. “He should have known they’d plan for somebody stealing the damned thing.”

  “I don’t think he could have anticipated the lengths the Breen would take to protect this thing,” Stevens said from where he continued to work on the control panel. “They’ve really thrown the whole smash at this.”

  Duffy nodded in agreement. While the cause of the ship’s crash was unknown before arriving here, a tricorder scan of its dormant data banks had quickly solved the mystery. “In addition to the security protocols built into the hardware and software, the onboard computer has a few extra features, including a special command sequence programmed into the navigational subprocessor.”

  “As soon as he set a course out of Breen space, the computer initiated a security override,” Stevens added. “Its instructions were to divert to the nearest Breen base.” The computer logs told the rest of the story, with Donovan trying everything in his power to regain control of the craft, up to and including the ejection of the warp core. He had then taken a phaser to the computer’s central processor, though its destruction had given him only partial control of the ship. While it was enough to effect a controlled crash landing here, it had not been enough to ensure the agent’s survival.

  “Given what we’ve found here,” Duffy said, “I don’t know anyone who could have gotten away with this.”

  Hrevet waved the consolation away. “What’s important now is retrieving the equipment and any data he was able to gather and getting it back to Starfleet.” Looking up at Duffy and Stevens once more, she asked, “What’s our status?”

  “I wish he’d left us some instructions on getting this thing out,” Stevens replied. Holding up his tricorder, he added, “The onboard computer doesn’t contain any information on it.” He cast a tired look at Duffy. “Have I thanked you for dragging me down here yet? This’ll teach me to keep my mouth shut at briefings.”

  Chuckling humorlessly, Duffy shook his head. This entire operation was an improvisation in progress, put into motion the moment the da Vinci had received its new orders. As part of their latest in a string of courier-type missions undertaken since the beginning of the Dominion War, the ship was already carrying Hrevet and her team to Starbase 585.

  The agents’ original assignment was scrapped, however, in favor of the more pressing need to recover the encryption prototype and, if possible, the operative who had liberated it from Breen hands. When the scout ship proved to be in no condition to fly back to Federation space and too large for the da Vinci’s transporters to beam into a cargo bay, only one option remained: Remove the equipment from the vessel. Without the necessary technical expertise to remove the equipment on their own, the field operatives required the talents of the da Vinci’s cadre of engineering specialists. The ship’s captain, David Gold, and its S.C.E. detachment commander, Salek, had wasted no time placing the responsibility for the mission’s success squarely on the shoulders of the team’s most experienced engineer: Duffy.

  “It’s nice to be loved,” Stevens had blurted out at the premission briefing, but Duffy smiled at the memory of the grin melting from his friend’s face as he realized that his mouth had indeed gotten him into trouble. Again.

  Not that Duffy would have excluded him from the mission. Since coming to the da Vinci following his tour aboard the Defiant and Deep Space 9, Fabian Stevens had proven to be a talented engineer who could think fast on his feet, especially when a situation deteriorated from bad to worse. He was a valuable addition to any away team, and Duffy had quickly come to rely on the man’s skills.

  Unfortunately, both men’s talents, technical or otherwise, were proving insufficient for their current task.

  “Da Vinci to away team.”

  Commander Salek’s terse, controlled voice erupted from Duffy’s combadge, nearly making him jump out of his skin. Cursing to himself, he reached up to tap the badge. “Duffy here.”

  “A Breen vessel has just dropped out of warp. Our sensors detected the activation of their transporters just as they entered orbit, and we register seven Breen life-forms on the planet surface, closing on your position.”

  “We’ve got trouble,” Duffy told his companions even as he heard the sounds of running footsteps coming from outside the ship. The away team turned toward the hatch in time to see Hrevet’s fellow field agent, Lieutenant Commander Rondon, appear in the opening. A Zaldan, Rondon had an imposing, muscular figure. Duffy had a hard time believing he could be frightened of anything, but there was no mistaking the anxious expression on the agent’s face.

  “Life signs, heading this way,” Rondon said as he climbed through the hatch and took up a defensive position, his phaser rifle looking more like a toy than a weapon in his massive webbed hands. “My tricorder registered seven, but there could be more.”

  Scrambling away from the open access panel, Duffy and Stevens reached for their own phaser rifles, and Duffy tried to ignore the knot of unease forming in his stomach as he checked his weapon’s power setting. Other than his Academy training courses, Duffy had little experience with the rifle. For that matter, he had never been subjected to anything resembling a ground combat action.

  You’re about to get a crash course, pal.

  Moving for a better vantage point toward the front of the ship, Duffy peered through the shattered remnants of what had once been the cockpit’s canopy in search of the new arrivals but saw nothing. The vessel had come to rest in a small valley cutting through a line of rolling hills, with a wall of rock lay less than ten meters from the ship’s port side, rising straight up nearly fifty meters before angling away. At least no one could approach them from that direction.

  “Lt. Commander Duffy,” Salek’s voice said through Duffy’s combadge, “are you all right?”

  Duffy started to reply when he heard the distinctive sound of disruptor fire, and the ship’s hull shuddered from the impact of multiple energy blasts. Rondon wasted no time launching a response, the report of his phaser almost deafening in the confines of the vessel’s cockpit.

  On the bridge of the U.S.S. da Vinci, Captain David Gold leaned forward in the center seat, his brow furrowing in concern. The unmistakable whine of weapons fire filtered through the ship’s intercom system.

  “Stand by for beam out, Duffy,” he said. Addressing the ship’s comm system, he began, “Gold to Feliciano. Beam them out of—”

  “Captain, you can’t do that,” a new voice shouted over the speakers, one he recognized as belonging to Commander Hrevet. “Our mission’s not over.”

  “I’m sorry, Commander, but the Breen don’t seem sympathetic to our concerns.” Before he could say anything more, he was interrupted as Lieutenant McAllan called out from the tactical station.

  “Captain, they’ve charged weapons and they’re coming about!”

  “Battle stations,” the captain said.

  Red alert klaxons wailed as the Breen ship fired on the da Vinci.

  “Report!” he called out over the alarms.

  McAllan replied, “I got the shields up in time to prevent any damage, sir. They’re holding at ninety-three percent.”

  Looking to Commander Salek, Gold said, “Get the away team up, now.”

  “No time, sir.” The Vulcan first officer shook his head. “They are coming around again.”

  At the helm, Songmin Wong shouted, “Incoming!”

  Gold cursed to himself as a second salvo struck his ship. He knew he had to get the da Vinci moving if he was to have any chance of confronting the enemy vessel on anything approaching equal terms.

  To the comm system, he said, “Commander Hrevet, the Breen have closed the issue for the moment. We’re under fire and have to take evasive action.”

  “Do what you have to do, Captain,” Hrevet replied, “but I need more time down here.”

  Gold stiffened at the Bolian’s tone, his jaw tightening as he rose from his chair. He knew that leadership structure aboard a ship assigned to S.C.E. duty often blurred into gray areas, with the captain’s role sometimes relegated to that of a ferry driver while the engineering specialists carried out orders given directly from Starfleet Command. While the occasional interpretation of his authority did not normally bother him, the knowledge that two of his people were in danger lent an edge to his voice.

  “I understand the importance of your mission, Commander, but I stop caring about what you need when my people’s safety is concerned. You’d do well to keep that in mind.”

  Sounds of phaser fire erupted from the speakers again and Gold turned to Salek. “What’s their status down there?”

  “Scans show that their position is defensible against seven ground troops,” the Vulcan replied. “That could change if the Breen are able to send down reinforcements.” Indicating the main viewer with a slight nod of his head and the image of the Breen vessel dominating it, he added, “And we do have concerns of our own.”

  Gold nodded. No less important than his engineers on the surface were the forty-odd personnel aboard the da Vinci. “Break orbit, evasive maneuvers,” he ordered. Though he was worried about his people on the ground, he had no choice but to communicate his confidence in both the engineers and the Intelligence operatives who had taken them into harm’s way.

  “Commander Hrevet,” he said, “We’re going to try and buy you some time, but I will yank you out of there if it comes to that. My people are merely on loan, and if you want a ride home, you’ll bring them back to me in one piece.”

  “Understood,” the Bolian replied, and Gold heard the first hint of humor in her voice. “Starbase 585 is a bit of a walk from here.”

  Unwilling to sever the connection without reassuring his engineers in some fashion, Gold added, “And Duffy? You and Stevens behave yourselves down there. Here’s your chance to make the S.C.E. look good to Starfleet Intelligence.”

  “Oh sure, Captain,” Duffy answered, somewhat out of breath. “Put that burden on me.” Gold allowed himself a slight smile at that. Though some ship commanders might not tolerate such flippancy in their junior officers, the da Vinci captain had learned to accept Duffy’s levity as easily as he had come to rely on his technical expertise.

  More for himself than anyone else, he said in a low voice, “You’ll be fine, Duffy.”

  If the second officer replied, Gold never heard it as static erupted from the bridge speakers.

  “Jammed from somewhere on the surface, Captain,” Salek reported. “The Breen ship is closing on us again.”

  Gold’s response was instant. “Bring us about, Wong. Stand by phasers.”

  As the da Vinci bridge crew snapped to their captain’s orders, Salek stepped down into the bridge’s command well. “Sir, tactical scans show that the Breen vessel’s weapons are superior to ours. It may be advisable to retreat and attempt to draw them away from the planet.”

  “You said the away team could hold its own for the time being,” Gold said. “If we leave, the Breen could simply let us go while they send down reinforcements. I’m not giving them that choice.” Eying his first officer, he added, “Besides, they’re liable to concentrate more on us if we start dishing it out for a change.”