—- USS Andromeda, Main Engineering —-

The entire engineering section was cast in a blue glow from the warp core as Chief Engineer leafed through the digital specifications manual on a PADD and glanced back and forth between the book and the screen on the wall. As  the USS Andromeda rushed at top speed towards a potential confrontation with the pirates who had stolen two Mat’Ha-class ships.

Having done nothing but publicity appearances before this the Andromeda had yet to really put its shielding to the test and since this had meant to be a diplomatic mission and not a tactical one Commander James Young had thought that he would have a lot more time to come to grips with the shielding system. This was the first time he’d worked on metaphasic shields, and it was doing his head in.

“Maybe we should toggle the warp engines off?” said an engineering ensign, a Ferengi who seemed to be suggesting the age of trick of turning everything off and then back on again.

“Captain isn’t going to be too pleased with us coming to a full stop on our way to save a colony,” Young pointed out, not mentioning that he had tried basically the same technique on the USS Seattle back when they were being chased by the Borg.

“There’s not much profit in being blown up by pirates,” the Ferengi pointed out as he shrugged.

Young considered that then nodded, “Okay, let’s try taking all systems but the engines and deflector shields offline, then bringing them all back. That may be enough.”

Tapping a button on a nearby console he called the bridge, “We’ll be taking all systems save for engines and the deflectors off line briefly.”

The Operations Chief Lieutenant Tashai’s voice came back, “Got it, we’ll try not to breath too much.”

Life support would be offline, through a ship this size, even with a thousand people, could live with the available air for days. A fact that was likely known by the Operations officer.

“Okay, gravity will be going offline, everyone get some grav boots on,” Young instructed his engineering team.

Once everyone was properly outfitted with boots and lights in case it went dark and the emergency lights did not go on, the crew took all systems offline save for the warp engines and deflector shield.

Only the blue light from the warp coils illuminated the engineering room for a moment until the emergency lights did kick in. Young counted to ten in his head then gave the order, “Okay, bring everything back online, shields last.”

The team went about bringing the ship back online. Young felt that he could hear the air begin to circulate again, though those systems were inaudible at least to a human. Perhaps not a Vulcan or a Ferengi.

“Shields online,” the Ferengi engineer reported and his claim was backed up by the sudden appearance of a blue outline around the ship.

The engineering team gave a collective whoop of joy.

“Alright, everyone take a break,” Young said, “We’ll arrive at the colony in three hours, be back here in two.”

After two hours had passed, and the engineering team had found themselves back in the engineering department. With only an hour to go they had to run through the systems once more to ensure they were in top working order. The Andromeda had spent the months since it launched, the first of a new class, as a glorified show pony. Looking like a Galaxy-class it was a throwback to what Starfleet had been years ago, when Picard had been a captain and the galaxy a far different place. Before the Borg, before the Dominion.

The Galaxy-class had defined an era, and one arriving in a system had thrown the balance of the system into question. At least until the Dominion had destroyed the USS Odyssey.

All the James Young could do now, that everything was back online, was to ensure that the USS Andromeda did not suffer the same fate as the earlier starship.

—- USS Andromeda, Bridge —-

The ship dropped out of warp and the system came into view on the main screen. Immediately it was replaced with an enhanced view of the colonial planet which was now covered with fires.

“Signs of orbital bombardment,” reported Lieutenant Claudia Jara from the tactical conn behind the row of seats in the center of the bridge.

“Signs of the attackers?” Captain Olivia Carrillo asked, shifting in her seat in the middle of the bridge.

“Nothing, but they could be cloaked,” Jara reported. The two Mat’Ha-class destroyers that had been attacking Federation settlements along the Klingon border had been stolen from a Klingon supply yard where they had been meant to be transferred between the Klingon Defense Force and a house in the empire. Instead they’d been sold to pirates, who had been using them to raid planets.

It had made several of the border colonies push for war between the Klingons and the Federation, as it seemed as though the Klingons were behind the raids. A previous fight between the USS Falcon and the ships had ended with the Falcon adrift in space.

“Keep shields raised,” Carrillo said, “have Doctor T’Rala prepare an away team for medical response. The USS West Covina is half a day out.”

Officers nodded, and word was sent to sickbay. The USS Andromeda slid into a stable orbit, and continued to scan space hoping to uncover hidden attackers. For now despite the previous urgency in getting the shields online it seemed that a confrontation with the Klingon ships had been delayed by their not being there.

“Lower shields to transport the medical teams down to the planet,” Carrillo said, “Jara take a security team down with them. Then we’ll raise shields as soon as the teams are away. We’re not going to be caught out.”