Star Trek Endeavour: Acheron

Chapter 1

Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama
Rated: PG-13 … language, brutality, violence, and adult situations.
Summary: Sequel to Endeavour: Pandora. Starfleet goes on the offensive but discovers that not all is as it appears...
Disclaimer: The evil monkeys at Paramount own Trek. Or is it CBS now? Eh. Who cares? Whoever it is that's fraking the franchise up now...

Author's Note: Be advised that this fic is pretty graphic at times in representing the horrors of war. I've tried to keep the decriptions of the carnage to an absolute minimum, but this is not a happy fic. Forewarned is forearmed, and all that.

Some of the complaints/comments about the acronym and jargon-heavy use in my fics may be ameliorated by a nifty feature I discovered. You should be able to "mouse-over" an acronym and its definition appear.

Major thanks (again) to TJinLOCA for being an awesome beta. An immense thank you to Chrisis1033 for his fantastic "covers" for the previous fics and of course, for this one as well (which will be posted once he can actually finish it). I'd be remiss if I failed to thank both HtH2K4 and Kevin Thomas Riley for giving me astounding assistance throughout the creative process. Many thanks also go to Jedikatie for pointing me to the Romulan words. Thanks all!

The revised look of the Endeavour was originally developed by Mark Ward for the NX Class Mod Pack for Bridge Commander, although it was credited as the NCC-05 Atlantis. Mr. Ward has graciously given me permission to use this "skin" for the look of Endeavour – if I had discovered this thing before writing Vigrid, the -06 would have looked like this all along.

This is the sequel to Endeavour: Pandora. It'll be a little difficult to follow without reading that first. Like my previous fics, I'm writing this as prose and using the basic screenplay format (Teaser + 5 acts).

DRAMATIS PERSONAE – UES ENDEAVOUR (NC-06)
Commanding Officer (CO): Charles Tucker, III - Captain (CPT)
Executive Officer (XO): T'Pol - also Senior Science/Sensor Officer (SCI) - Commander (CDR)
Chief Tactical Officer (TAC): Heinrich ("Rick") Eisler, 3IC - Lieutenant Commander (LCDR)
Chief of Engineering (ENG or ChEng): Anna Hess, 4IC - Lieutenant Commander (LCDR)
Senior Helmsman/Navigator (NAV): Daniel Hsiao, Lieutenant (LT)
Senior Communications/Linguistics Officer (COM): Marie Devereux, Lieutenant (LT)
Weapons System Officer: Nathaniel Hayes – also Roughneck 6 (OIC) - Lieutenant Junior Grade (LT JG)
Chief Medical Officer (CMO): Phlox, equivalent rank of LCDR
Chief of the Boat (COB): Colin Mackenzie, Master Chief Petty Officer (MCPO), senior enlisted man.

TEASER

The data had not changed.

Leaning back from his console, Subcommander D'deridex exhaled slightly in relief as his console chirped. It had taken a great deal of effort on his part, but the power fluctuations in the transmitter array were no longer reading green. They were finally ready to progress to the next stage.

When Admiral Valdore had tasked him with this duty, the subcommander had initially assumed that it was a punishment detail or perhaps a subtle reminder that, despite his pureblood heritage, D’deridex was unique among his fellow Rihannsu. The subcommander’s fascination with the Terrans was considered a thing for mocking, not for emulation, and many had been the casual insult directed toward him for his attraction to all things Terran. Even D'deridex himself acknowledged that it was an unhealthy obsession that led him to learn Terran Standard English, or to study intercepted historical documentaries as if they were the words of S'Task himself. D'deridex's defense was always the same: when one understood the Enemy, one could more easily defeat him. Even if one did not understand why the Terrans found it necessary to highlight the comedic exploits of a shipwrecked crew, or to focus on the clearly fictional adventures of a military organization utilizing a ring-based transmat device, or to observe sporting events that had no apparent purpose aside from leisure, one could still learn a great deal from such modes of entertainment.

Evidently, Valdore agreed.

Nearly two dierha had passed since the Terran ship had been destroyed as it attempted to sneak into the system that Rihannsu starcharts identified as LV-426. Even before the passive sensor net that the fleet had in place around the system had detected the ship's arrival, Valdore had predicted its presence. With absolute certainty, the admiral had pointed to the sector from which the Terran ship would appear, and the surprised looks from his command staff when his prediction came true had caused him to smile grimly.

Rising from his station, the subcommander turned to stride from the command-executive center, holding the data device that contained his work. To his surprise, he found Admiral Valdore standing in the doorway, features twisted in an angry scowl. As always, D'deridex found himself intimidated by the admiral's hulking size and powerful build. Rumor held that the admiral had once killed two kll'inghanns with his bare hands, and the subcommander believed it as fact.

"Report," the admiral demanded, and D'deridex snapped to attention as he responded.

"Communication adjustments have been made according to your specifications, Daise'Khre'Riov," the subcommander replied, making sure to use the admiral's proper rank. One of the many things that D'deridex had learned since being assigned to the Ra'kholh was that the admiral was a stickler for protocol.

"Mnekha," Valdore smiled in approval. He pinned D'deridex with a flat look. "Make the transmission in exactly six siuren." The admiral gave him a smile that was only a shade warmer than any other expression that Valdore normally wore. "I'm trusting you with this, Erei'Riov D'deridex. Don't fail me."

Swallowing the intimidation that threatened to rob him of efficiency, D'deridex saluted sharply and turned toward the communications array, his heart pounding. Failure now would likely result in his death, and he still had dreams of dying an old, old man. With a less than subtle head jerk, he displaced the subcenturion seated there before inputting the commands that would bring the comm adjustment online. Glancing at the integrated chronometer, he struggled to ignore the admiral's silent presence behind him. At the appropriate time, he pressed a button and spoke.

"Starfleet Command, this is Stockholm," he declared in perfect Terran English. "Stand by to receive updated telemetry."