Patrick Haussman, feeling out of place in his science blue uniform, checked again to be sure he had his phaser. Unholstering it, he noted that it was fully charged. Satisfied, he replaced it and continued to wait.

"Cripes Pat," William DuVaal, feeling very much at home in the security lounge with his own uniform of gold, looked up from where he was sitting, "calm down."

"I am calm," the ensign retorted, wishing that he had not come straight from the academy and had a little more experience to boast of.

DuVaal snorted, "Whatever," he was 29, and seemed to think he had some sort of unofficial rank over the younger ensigns. Despite the fact that such seniority did not exist outside of biological age, he persisted in behaving that way. "think ol' Lyndon's gonna get us killed?"

"No," Patrick answered a little sullenly. He liked Lyndon and was glad that Ensign Fletcher and not DuVaal was leading the away team.

Barbara Villivort and Hiakowa Sazuki were next to report in. Neither took seats. They stood and leaned against the wall in turn, not nervous enough to pace about, but not quite calm enough to sit down and relax. William laughed to himself over them, even though he was now out numbered as far as uniform color went. Hiakowa had come from science, and Barbara from the medical department.

"So," DuVaal addressed ensign Sazuki, "why did they sending us ANOTHER science officer to look after?"

Hiakowa did not fall prey to William's teasing, "I volunteered," he offered, showing no indication that he took offense.

"How noble," the security officer was about to continue his taunting, but Ensign Fletcher arrived.

"Villivort," Lyndon had come in with a phaser rifle slung over either shoulder and he gave one to the med tech, "glad you could join us." Barbara, despite being in medical, was reputed to be an excellent marksman.

"What about the rest of us?" DuVaal wanted to know.

"Yeah, I'm glad the rest of you are here too," Lyndon's tension over the mission surfaced as sarcasm.

"No, I mean, why don't the rest of us get phaser rifles?"

"How many hours of training have you logged at the rifle range DuVaal?" Fletcher challenged.

"Enough."

"Nevertheless," Lyndon handed an extra type-2 phaser to Haussman, Sazuki, and DuVaal. Everyone now had at least two weapons, if not the weapon of their choice. "Let's go."

* * * * * Lyndon's team beamed over to the station. Each swung around, phasers ready... but they were alone. No creatures snarled out of the corners, no injured crewman called for help.

"What is this place?" Haussman wondered.

"Shhh! Keep your voices down," Lyndon warned, "looks like a storage facility..."

In all the holo-movies Lyndon had ever seen, people arrived on a scene to find themselves lost in an eerie darkness or fog, usually amid a maze of wreckage. But the storage facility was brightly lit and empty. And somehow, that was much, much worse than any shadowed, wild jungle of debris. The place was just empty, offering no place to hide or seek shelter and so well lit that they would have no chance should the Khynah enter. The five seemed frozen for a moment, looking to one another as if they suspected a trap.

Hiakowa studied his tricorder, "No life signs within fifty meters."

The five officers relaxed for a moment, not realizing how great the weight of the silence had become. Lyndon, phaser ready, headed for the doors, "Come on."

They paused, stepping out into the corridor. Empty hallway stretched in each direction. Hiakowa checked his tricorder again. The young scientist began to wish very much that he had stayed behind with the civilians. Not that he was afraid, but because he had the sudden feeling that he was going to die here. It seemed a terrible thing for his life to end here, on a barren, ruined station when he could have chosen a career on Earth. But it was too late for that now. He hurried to keep pace with the purposeful steps of the team, his short legs taking two strides for each one of theirs.

They stopped before the turbolift. "What's on the next deck up?" Lyndon asked of his friend.

Hiakowa consulted the tricorder, "If this map is accurate, it should be science labs and observation galleries."

"Turbolift's probably not working," Lyndon commented, a bit lost in thought.

DuVaal snorted, "Oh, there's an idea. Call for the lift and tell the Khynah right where we are."

Hiakowa and Patrick scowled at the older ensign, wishing he would shut up.

"Good point," Lyndon agreed, defusing the argument before it could begin. "Let's check out this deck before we worry about the next one up."

* * * * * "Aht'la," a voice came quietly from the back of the group, "Shall we take them?"

"Quiet s'ahma! You... and you," the leader of the hidden Khynah group pointed to a pair of subordinates, "follow the human bii'cho and tell us where they go."

With synchronized nods, the two set off quietly after Lyndon's group.

* * * * *

"Hey," Hiakowa, bringing up the rear with Villivort, had been studying his tricorder.

"What?" Barbara leaned over to see for herself.

"I'm picking up something," he now had the attention of the entire group, "from over there..."

"Let's check it out," Lyndon decided.

The team went down the hallway and traced the signal to a small room. The only object in the room that had not been smashed to bits was a waist-high cylinder. It had a few pulsing lights and symbols foreign to the eyes of the Starfleet officers.

Hiakowa knelt beside it, scanning with the tricorder.

"I don't believe it," he muttered, then looked up to the others, "it's jamming our comm badges."

"Really?" DuVaal had lost his arrogance and tapped his comm badge experimentally. The little gold piece did not even chirp.

"I'll be damned," Villivort shook her head, "can you shut it off?"

Hiakowa looked to the other scientist, "What do you think Pat?"

"I have no idea," Haussman admitted.

"Well..." Hiakowa considered the device, reaching out to push a button, "maybe this one..."

He touched it and the pulsating lights blinking more rapidly.

"Oh."

"What?" Lyndon recognized the thoughtful expression on his friend's face. It was the look a person wore when they didn't want to own up to something. "What have you done?"

"Um..." the botanist consulted the tricorder again, "I think I may have set off some kind of alarm."

"Come on," DuVaal wasted no time in heading for the door. Barbara was beside him, leading the others back to the corridor.

As the doors parted two Khynah lunged in at them. One fired a weapon, striking Barbara and knocking her to the floor. William fired back, killing one of the aliens. He turned to fire on the other, ducking in time to get scorched by its weapon. Lyndon got a well-aimed shot past William and dropped the Khynah without delay.

"Thanks," DuVaal glanced at the blackened patch on his shoulder, but turned his attention to Villivort.

But Barbara was dead. The four men regarded each other with sickened guilt. No matter how many advances had been made in regarding women as capable equals, they still felt an age-old duty to protect them. Perhaps had they not all been human, the ancient notion would not have struck home so strongly. But they were and it did. Lyndon carefully took the phaser rifle from her hands and handed it silently over to William. They proceeded out into the corridor without saying anything.

The two Khynah must have been scouts, for no more waited in the hallway, no aliens lurked around the corners. After ten minutes of tense searching and silence, they found themselves back where they started. Lyndon asked quietly which deck everyone thought they should proceed to. William, with equal solemnity, suggested going up one deck. They found the jeffries tubes entrance and started climbing, failing to notice the eyes that glittered up at them from below.

* * * * * Patrick gripped the rungs, glad that they were only climbing one deck. He followed Lyndon, scrambling out of the hatchway when they made it. It was darker and colder on this deck and he shivered, wishing the environmental controls were working better. Hiakowa had been right behind him... what was taking so long? Leaning back through the door to look, Patrick nearly ran head first into the botanist as he came charging up the ladder. Hiakowa came clawing his way out onto the deck, gasping and turning back around to yell, "Hurry!!"

"What is it?" Lyndon demanded, pushing the two scientists out of the way.

DuVaal was shouting something, sounding very belligerent and fierce. A phaser discharged once, then twice, followed by, "TAKE THAT!"

"DuVaal?"

"WHAT?!" William DuVaal came climbing out, moving slowly. He had another scorch mark, this time with part of his trouser cuff burned away. Limping, he made his way to the wall and leaned against it, bending down to survey the damage.

"Let me see that," Lyndon studied the injury, a burn from the Khynah's weapon. It was pretty bad, Lyndon guessed, and he didn't really have any idea. He knew enough to realize that William would not make it very far.

"Lyndon?" Patrick whispered, his eyes enormous with fear.

"What?"

"They're coming," Hiakowa answered for Patrick, indicating the tricorder in his hand.

"Come on," Lyndon grabbed William's arm to support him and began heading down the corridor.

"What're you doing?" DuVaal struggled to get free, "leave me here to stop them while you three get away."

"No," Fletcher answered simply, trying to move faster.

"Hurry!" Patrick Haussman, trying to unholster his phaser with shaking hands, would have given anything to change the past. Why in all the worlds had he joined Starfleet anyway?!

The team made their way to an intersection and paused to choose a direction. That pause was all the Khynah needed. Closing in on their prey, the aliens shouted, "I'kosh! I'kosh!"

"Stupid bii'cho! If they would leave their wounded they would do far better!" one of the aliens jeered.

Phaser fire ripped past the team and DuVaal shoved Lyndon aside. "GO!" he ordered, as if he were in charge.

"But-"

"Do it!" he shoved Lyndon harder this time, serious and very angry. He turned and opened fire with the phaser rifle.

Lyndon, too young and inexperienced to know if there was a right decision, made up his mind. He pushed the two science ensigns ahead of him, "Go, go!"

"Where?" Hiakowa stumbled along, acutely aware that they were leaving William DuVaal to his death.

"Anywhere!"

The sounds of a lost battle rang behind them. The Khynah roared in triumph. If the three ensigns were to survive, they had to find cover immediately.

"This way!" Lyndon dashed through the next set of doors. He found himself standing in an auditorium of some sort, with rows of seats that lined wide sets of stairs leading down to a podium far below.

"Observation gallery," Hiakowa recognized it, "we can't hide in here!"

"We can't go back out either," Patrick gasped, "they-"

"Come on," Lyndon ran, down to the lower set of stairs and collapsed behind the podium.

The podium was not big enough to hide them for long. Lyndon spied another set of stairs that led to a sort of balcony. The stairs lay about thirty feet away and he peeked out at the main door beyond the gallery seating.

"We're gonna run to that staircase," he said, "one at a time. If they come in and see one of us, they may think we've split up. Sazuki - go!"

Hiakowa ran, too much a target as he dashed across the painfully empty floor. He disappeared safely inside the doorway.

"Haussman, you're next."

Patrick sprang from behind the podium, getting only a few steps before the door at the top of the rows of seats opened. He froze, gaping at the single Khynah warrior standing up there. Lyndon stood and fired, hitting the alien square in the chest. He paused, waiting for more to appear, but the Khynah was alone. Lyndon ran, desperate with controlled panic. He headed for the door, following Hiakowa and praying that no more Khynah would appear and see them out in the open. Hiakowa was waiting at the foot of the stairs and met his friend with an expression of desperate worry. The ensigns tore up the old fashioned stair case that led to the observation deck, collapsing silently behind a counter that overlooked the science gallery. The observation windows were glassed in, so they could finally breath in great gasps without worry of being heard. For three whole seconds they crouched out of sight, relieved and momentarily safe. Suddenly they turned in unison too look behind them. Where was Patrick?

Lyndon began to stand up, to retrace his steps and find their missing crewmate, when Hiakowa pulled him roughly back to the floor.

"Hey!" Lyndon whispered, "what're you-"

Hiakowa said nothing, but his dark eyes shone a fierce and silent command as he raised a finger to his lips. And then he pointed to the observation window. Lyndon dared to peek over the counter's edge, down at the gallery of seats. He could see the Khynah, four of them, coming through the back doors. And Patrick. He had panicked and hidden behind the nearest row of seats, instead of making his way to the stairs. Lyndon dared to hope, to cast all his trust to chance... but the Khynah had spotted him already.

Lyndon sank back down and regarded Hiakowa with an unreadable expression. The security officer had no choice but to reach for his phaser. Hiakowa reached out and took Lyndon's sleeve. "No Lyndon," he whispered.

Lyndon pulled away, preparing to stand up, "I won't leave him-"

The Khynah were talking! Their savage voices carried easily to their hiding place. "Stupid humans! They could have escaped but for their own foolishness."

Lyndon shook his head, wishing there were someway to get that information on the tricorder to the ship. But there was no time for that now. He moved to creep on all fours back to the staircase, but again Hiakowa caught him. "Let go!" Lyndon hissed.

"Listen!" Hiakowa was frantic that his friend pay attention, he spoke so quietly Lyndon could hardly hear, "we have to get the tricorder back!"

Below they heard Patrick scream. Hiakowa gripped Lyndon's arm tighter, "If you go down there, they'll kill us, we can't help him now."

But Lyndon refused to believe that. He was a security officer in Starfleet, bound by honor and promise to protect and defend... not cower in the shadows. He knew Hiakowa was right, but he couldn't live with himself knowing he had done nothing. The fear he felt must be nothing compared to Patrick's terror, he could not let him suffer alone. Snarling Khynah and human screams moved him to action.

"I'm going, you stay here," Lyndon kept below the counter top, crawling as quickly as he could. A yard from the staircase he felt an unexpected weight smash him into the floor. When he wasn't killed he knew it was not the enemy, but rather, his own friend. He moved to escape and Hiakowa caught him in a textbook- perfect pin. Lyndon, knowing his friend's rank at combat sports, also knew he couldn't escape easily - if at all. He could thrash about noisily or be still, either choice would not change the fact that he would be free only when Hiakowa choose to release him.

"Dammit Sazuki, if-" Lyndon struggled to get free.

"Stop it," Hiakowa spoke quietly - hardly speaking at all, "they've already killed him. You would've hit the bottom stair just in time to be their next target. We can at least help the crew by telling them what we've found," he loosened his grip just enough to glance over the edge, the Khynah were already leaving. When they had gone he dared to release Lyndon. It was a mistake.

Lyndon, as soon as he had an arm free, punched Hiakowa in the face. It was the most brutal and violent thing he had ever done that wasn't an act of defense. And he wished he had swung harder. Hiakowa was going to have a very black eye in a short period of time. For the moment he was simply obliged to get out of Lyndon's way. The security ensign raced down the stairs, phaser drawn. But the enemy had moved on, leaving an efficiently murdered officer and a world of guilt for two young men. Lyndon had failed to protect Patrick, he failed not only as an officer, but as a human being. He had done nothing while another person was killed.

"There's nothing we could have done," Hiakowa arrived to stand behind Lyndon, "they would have killed us too."

Lyndon wasted no time in whirling around to punch Hiakowa again. It made him even more furious when his friend didn't fight back. Hiakowa could have beaten Lyndon easily in a fight, but he choose not to. Somehow that made everything worse. Lyndon turned his back to the botanist, staring at Patrick and wanting someone else to blame. Three people dead. Three officers who's well-being had been placed on the shoulders of Lyndon Fletcher. He stood there, an anger born of desperation keeping him frozen in place.

"Ensign Fletcher?" a voice came over his comm badge, "Anyone on Fletcher's away team respond."

"Sazuki here," Hiakowa answered, wondering if they had gotten out of reach of the interfering device. What did it matter? The ship had contacted them, might as well get this over with. "Fletcher and I request immediate beam out."

"Directly to sickbay?" whoever it was asked calmly, wondering if they had sustained serious injuries.

"No," this time Lyndon spoke, "but there's only two of us left and we have some information loaded onto a tricorder to return."

"Understood. Standby."

Hiakowa couldn't think of anything to say. He just waited until they were back aboard the ship and turned the tricorder over to one of the engineers. Lyndon headed for the security department in the hopes of getting onto a second away team. Hiakowa watched him go, and then headed for sickbay trying not to bump into things as he navigated with one eye.

* * * * * "Don't tell me you got into a fistfight with the Khynah," Dr. Montgomery paused to see a med tech attending Ensign Sazuki.

"Not exactly," Hiakowa answered quietly. He had not told anyone yet what happened, though Lyndon had reported the loss of Villivort, DuVaal and Haussman.

Their team was the first to return, the first to report back with such appalling results. Hiakowa felt guilty that he had returned and his crewmates had not. And he felt abject remorse at what he had done to Lyndon... He noticed the doctor seemed to be waiting for an explanation.

"It's a long story," he said at last.

The assembling medical teams began trooping through on their way to the transporter room. The doctor returned her attention to their departure plans and Hiakowa's long story lost any prospective audience. He was glad for that, because he hadn't wanted to explain.