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[Cptn Corizon 0]

Battle-scarred and missing several large pieces of hull, the Excelsior-class Union limped at warp five towards Camelot Station. The remains of the Union ready-room had served as a make-shift quarters for the lithe, silver-haired, Dameon captain who was sprawled on the small couch in the corner of the room. A single, standard issue blue-blanket covered him loosely, as his yeoman had been afraid to rouse him and did her best to cover the parts of him she thought would be cold.

 

The droning beep of his communications panel finally woke him after nearly a minute of going off. Batting his yellow-eyes open, he groaned, wondering how long he’d been asleep as he glanced towards the chronometer. Sighing, he made his way to the desk and keyed in his access code to bring up the communication feed instead of the twirling Starfleet chevron.

 

“Catch you at a bad time, Corizon?”

 

The Dameon shook his head and made an attempt at rearranging his hair. “Of course not, Admiral.”

 

Vice-Admiral Misha Abronvonvich smiled, causing the deep crags in his face to shift in various directions, like a great earthquake shifting hole canyons. “Good, good,” he said. “I’ve read your report.”

 

Wiping sleep from his eyes, Corizon nodded. “And?”

 

“I can’t say that ‘Fleet will be happy about losing the biggest prize in the last decade, or that you’ve managed to trash another ship…”

 

Bemused, even in his still-partially asleep state, Corizon grinned fangily. “Somehow I think the first will annoy them more than the later, even the Engineering corps… well maybe.”

 

Abronvonvich returned the bemused grin and nodded. “Possibly, I know several of the Excelsior-class chiefs stationed in this quadrant will be happy to have the spare parts from the Union.”

 

Corizon nodded. He figured that the Union, despite her proud service history that had included the Cardassian Conflict, the Tzenkethi War, the Dominion War and the Scorpiad Conflict was now headed towards a life in the scrap yard, stripped of all her important parts and decommissioned. Though, considering the former, he knew it wouldn’t be long before another ship bore the name Union.

 

“As you’ve no doubt ascertained by now, this means you will be getting Excalibur back sooner than later.”

 

Again Corizon nodded. “Though that might off-set any good will with the engineering folks that getting them a bunch of spare parts bought me.”

 

“Yeah,” Abronvonvich nodded. “At any rate, I’ve forwarded everything you sent me to Starfleet Command. Like I said, I figure they’ll be mildly annoyed about the total loss of the Scorpiad ship, but it’s not like you had a choice. At least you got out of there with your crew alive, and you did manage to get a ton of data off that thing before they showed up to reclaim it. And hell, you got the specs on that damned star-killer weapon of theirs.”

 

The Daemon nodded for the third time and smiled. Getting the star-killer had made losing the ship worth it. With the data they’d collected, Fleet could begin to understand better how it worked and perhaps develop some sort of counter-measure. It also meant that he wouldn’t be directly involved in the clandestine scheme certain elements of the intelligence community had proposed to coerce the Scorpiads into stopping using the weapon.

 

“I wish we could do more with this knowledge to help the Al-Ucards and the Eratians, but you know how the politicians feel about that whole subject.”

 

“Yes,” Corizon said, letting a bit of his personal feelings tint his voice. “They’re being… diplomatic about it, I’ll say that for it.”

 

Abronvonvich nodded. “That’s the nice of way of putting it, which from you, surprises me.”

 

Shaking his head the Dameon sighed. “I’ve given up trying to reason with them, Admiral.”

 

“Likely for the best.”

 

The both exchanged sighed before either spoke again. “So, what’s the plan for when Union arrives back to port.”

 

Happy for the change of subject, Abronvonvich’s face brightened. “You and your crew will be given sometime to get stuff off the ship and moved back onto the Excalibur. She’s not entirely ready yet, but enough for you guys to move back aboard. I’ve authorized a week of leave for everyone to get settled in while the dock-monkeys make final repairs. “

 

“And after?”

 

Abronvonvich shook his head. “Always in a hurry, Checkers. We’ll talk about Excalibur’s pending assignment later, once you’ve gotten back and had some time to rest.”

 

Deciding not to fight it, Corizon accepted the fate. “Understood. And what about my chief engineer?”

 

“Ah, right. How’s he doing anyway?”

 

“He’s stable. Medical says that he’s still not entirely ready to be woken up, but that he and the symbiot are at no real risk of dying.”

 

“That’s good news,” Abronvonvich said. “I’ve arranged for him to be transported first thing to the Camelot medical facility. Your doctors can continue to supervise him; Dr. Ha’Jolka said she’d be happy to assist them in any way possible. The Symbiosis Commission is sending a team of experts to assist as well, they’re due in a few hours before you, actually.”

 

“Good, I’ll inform Dr. Wydown.”

 

“Well then, I won’t keep you any longer, Captain. You look like hell.”

 

“Thanks,” Corizon said. “See you in a few days, Admiral.”