Book One Epilogue: Dashed Against the Rocks

 Da'mi'en D'arko sat in the cramped office module of the Maelstrom rereading his report to Starfleet Command explaining the loss of his ship after a mere month of deployment. It seemed like an impossible set of circumstances which brought it on. He took an absent-minded sip of raktajino. 

It had been a mere two hours since he was briefly blinded by the flash of the Pendragon's erupting warp core, taking the ship into oblivion. He had managed, though improvisational thinking, to save most of the crew. Of the nearly 500 still on board at the time of the explosion, only four hadn't made it to safety. D'arko supposed it was as much as any captain could have hoped for in such circumstances.

Still, it was too many losses. For such a short mission, to have lost not just eighteen crew members, but even the ship, herself, was...

The door chimed.

"Come" D'arko said to the air.

Torgas entered the small office, helping itself to the single extra chair next to the Captain's desk. The Doctor let out a long sigh.

"Tough few days, Captain. I don't think Starfleet's ever dealt with anything like this before."

D'arko stared a moment at the Plexarian. He couldn't decide whether he wanted to lash out at it or accept its attempt at comforting. He settled on neither.

"Well, I suppose I did make Federation history, being the only Captain to have even been defeated by his own ship."

Torgas reach out and took D'arko's hand, gently.

"Captain... Da'mi'en... This was not your fault. You did everything you could to prevent this from happening. When the situation became impossible, you STILL managed to rise up and become just as impossible. It was you who saved the crew. You gave them a chance to get away and you who will bring us all back and beat Moriarty.

"There's a saying on Plexar; 'Some days, the Universe is just going to kick you in the mouth. When it does, you have to get up, spit in its face and say "Not today." ' So, Captain... 'Not today!' "

D'arko chuckled slightly.

"You just made that up, Doctor."

Torgas smiled softly, leaned over, and kissed D'arko's cheek, which turned a darker blue at the touch.

They looked at each other in that moment, slowly leaning in toward each other.

"Captain, I need you up here," Song's voice came through D'arko's combadge.

In the cockpit, sensors were indicating a drifting starship ahead. The configuration was Starfleet design, a larger star cruiser. The ship had an active transponder, but its code wasn't... QUITE Starfleet. 

"Slow to half impulse, Lieutenant. I want to get a look at this."

The Maelstrom slowed as the huge cruiser came into view. It wasn't as large as the mysterious "Nebula", but it wasn't too far off. Its saucer section (if one could use that term for reference) was really more an arrowhead, and its lines were exceptionally sleek. The hull gleemed as though it was just out of the shipyard.

As the trio of officers were admiring the drifting hulk, its tractor beam suddenly activated, trapping the small runabout like a fly in amber. 

"We're being hailed." Song said, not waiting for the order, she put the communication on audio.

"Unknown vessel, identify yourself." a British voice instructed. IT wasn't hostile, but more curious than anything else.

"We are the Maelstrom. I am Captain Da'mi'en D'arko, of the... FORMERLY of the Federation ship U.S.S. Pendragon."

A moment of silence followed before the tractor beam started to pull the Maelstrom in toward the starship.

"Most interesting," was the strange voice's only reply as the Maelstrom was pulled in toward the main hangar bay.

"Captain?" Torgas asked, looking out the forward view-port. D'arko saw it, as well.

The ship's registry.

"NCC 99623"

"I.S.S. Pendragon"