The Meeting at Wolf 359 (Part 1)
Posted on Thu May 1st, 2025 @ 9:49pm by Captain M'Raz & Lieutenant Commander Jason Reeves & Lieutenant Meerah Praavor & Lieutenant Elias McEntyre & Lieutenant Micheal Taggart & Lieutenant H'iri & Lieutenant Richard Pierce MD
2,238 words; about a 11 minute read
Mission:
Resistance is Necessary
Location: Wolf 359, Wolf System, Alpha Quadrant (Eight Light Years From Earth)
Timeline: MD002 - 1400
[Aboard the Jane Addams]
The USS Jane Addams was first to drop out of warp within the Wolf system; Raz from his position in the center chair, "Take us to yellow alert and scan the system. If there are any Borg about, I want to know sooner rather than later."
"Aye, Sir. All stations, YELLOW ALERT!" Elias turned the ship to yellow alert as he glided over the tactical console controls, typing fast. "Sensors show Warp Wakes, 4-5 incoming. Federation warp class signatures."
"Very good. Mr. Taggart," Raz continued, "take us within range of Wolf 359."
Micheal nodded as he worked his controls. "Aye, Captain. ETA to rendezvous point, 5 minutes at full impulse."
"Lieutenant H'iri," Raz said, "once the other ships arrive and have been identified, send them transport coordinates."
"Of course, Captain," H'iri responded seriously. "Waiting on all of the ships to appear and confirm identities."
"Understood," Raz said. "Notify Lieutenant Praavor to set up a meeting space."
Obediently, H'iri replied, "Notifying Lieutenant Praavor now." She then hit the comm and informed Lieutenant Praavor, a small purr cooing in her voice, "The Captain would like you to set up a meeting place for the Federation ships that are to arrive. Please send coordinates to my console."
[Aboard the USS Ahwahee]
The USS Ahwahee dropped out of warp as the Cheyenne class ship arrived the rendezvous location at Wolf 359. Captain Hanoh Usall stared at the main viewer as they waited for the additional ships to arrive. Even though the Ahwahee never made it to Earth to face the Borg due to being ordered to stay away. They assisted with the evacuation of Mars the best they could. In all honesty, the Bolian had heard the reports and felt that they probably should be focused on clearing out the area just in case they decided to leave the Sol system. Sitting next to him was his Executive Officer, Commander Dante Mendez who was still a bit upset that they didn't join the fight. Mendez was clearly eager to exact some sort of payback from the unknown invaders.
“Approaching Wolf 359, Captain,” the Operations officer announced.
"Take us to yellow alert," Usall instructed. Standing from his seat, he walked towards the main viewer.
Commander Mendez stood from his seat as well and found himself staring at the Jane Addams on the main viewer. "We'll really should've been in the fight." Turning around, he looked back at tactical.
Standing at the tactical station was Lieutenant Tony Johnson. Staring back at the Commander, Johnson simply nodded in approval with his words.
"We had our orders," the Captain reminded. "And we did a lot more good taking the time to evacuate others."
[Aboard the USS Cardiff]
Nikolai Kozlov, Captain of the USS Cardiff, a New Orleans-class frigate, looked up from the casualty report he was reviewing. He nodded to the expectant officer and handed the PADD in his hands to the yeoman who was standing by.
“Send that to Fleet Command,” he instructed the young Vulcan crew member. As the yeoman turned to leave, Nikolai turned his attention to the matter at hand.
“Take us out of warp, Mister Jordan. Approach the rendezvous point at three quarters impulse,” the captain ordered, his gaze turning to the Cardiff’s main viewer. From behind him, the Alpha shift Tactical officer spoke up.
“Recommend Yellow Alert, Captain. We have no idea what the situation will be,” the female voice said.
Nikolai nodded thoughtfully, his eyes darting around the bridge, measuring the crew’s reactions and taking in the tactical data displayed.
“Tak, zvychayno. Vykonaty,” Nikolai ordered in his native Ukrainian. He sucked in a sharp breath and mentally chided himself for the lapse of concentration.
“Of course, Lieutenant Ross. Execute,” he restated, his soft Ukrainian lilt playing against the crisp consonants in his English.
The lighting on the bridge immediately shifted to a golden hue as a warning claxon and an alert message sounded throughout the ship. Several ancillary crewmembers took up station on the bridge, and the main viewer shifted to a tactical overlay that displayed the system they were entering.
“All departments report Yellow Alert manned, Captain,” Lieutenant Ross reported several moments later.
“Very well,” Nikolai acknowledged, unconsciously scooting to the edge of his seat.
[Aboard the USS George Washington]
The next ship to drop out of warp, was an old Starfleet workhorse. The USS George Washington, was the sole surviving Excelsior Upgrade in the fleet. While there had only been fifty of them ever produced, before Starfleet planners decided to go back to the original Excelsior model, the Excelsior Upgrades had put forth a lot of strong showings in their lifespans. So much so that, there were some in the fleet who had started to reconsider the decision to only produce the regular Excelsior space frames. Of course, those ideas disappeared the day that the Borg showed up.
[Aboard the USS Resolute]
The Resolute slid out of warp like a blade slipping into a scabbard—clean, measured, and deliberate. The graceful Ambassador-class starship held a stately profile as she took her place in the debris-choked system, her hull catching the reflected starlight of shattered dreams and burned-out glory.
On the bridge, the air was tense but calm. The crew moved with military precision, their captain setting the tone from the moment they dropped into normal space.
“Drop to one-quarter impulse,” Captain Harold Drummond ordered, hands neatly clasped behind his back. His voice was level, his accent—a crisp Edinburgh edge—cutting through the low murmur of bridge activity.
“All stop, holding position relative to the Cardiff and Ahwahee,” his helm officer reported.
“Open hailing frequencies to all vessels present,” Drummond said. “No encryption. Plain and professional.”
The channel opened with a soft chime.
“This is Captain Harold Drummond of the USS Resolute,” he said, stepping toward the center of the bridge. “We stand ready to assist with search and recovery efforts, as well as coordination of any remaining fleet assets.”
He paused, glancing at the graveyard on the viewscreen. His tone didn’t break, but the weight in his words deepened.
“We arrive too late for the fight. But not, I think, for what must come next.”
He gave a short nod to his comms officer, who closed the channel.
[The USS Unicorn]
The last to arrive, scarred, pitted, limping. U.S.S. Unicorn. A ship of legacy, honor. An Excelsior Class with a long, storied history, Third ship to bear the name.
Standing before a hole amidships, Xander Thames, once the second officer, thrust into command after Unicorn's Captain, Charles McEntyre and XO, Lane Kelly, were killed during their engagement with the Borg. How he was going to explain how all of it went down was not on his bingo card. None of this was.
The ship comms beeped. "Captain, Approaching Wolf 359. We're assuming parking orbit alongside the Resolute, GW, Cardiff, and Ahwahee." The ships communications officer announced.
"And the Jane Addams?" Xander asked.
"We've received transport coordinates." came the reply.
"How about that other matter? Have you been able to reach anyone?" He was told by McEntyre, if anything was to happen to him, Xander was to ping a comm channel until he got an answer. A personal one. More than likely to tell his family he wasn't coming home.
"No of yet sir. I will keep trying. Bridge Out"
Xander sighed a bated breath.
Legacy was a bitch.
[Aboard the USS Broker]
Captain Marissa Istrate arrived at last with her Nebula Class starship. The woman was born on the moon and was used to living in other people's shadows. Yet, through her scientific achievements, specifically in quantum field dynamics and subspace instability modeling, she quietly rose through the ranks.
The Broker had been in deep space studying gravitational abnormalities when it received the strange signals from earth and then the call from the USS Jane Adams. Could it really have been that Earth fell to this Borg race?
Certainly there must have been a misunderstanding. The Federation was a peaceful society. War was not something entered into lightly. The Borg must not have understood that or the Federation accidentally was aggressive towards them. Peace was the way, and she would find it. From all the reports she read, it was unlikely that with modern technology that they were going to beat these Borg through aggression.
She commanded her Chief Ops officer to open communications, stating in a quiet voice, "This is Captain Marissa Istrate of the USS Broker. We have received your signal and awaiting further information."
[Aboard the Jane Addams]
"Get them all online," Raz said. He waited while the connections were readied and the five captains appeared on the view screen. "Captains," he said. "I think we need to talk. Given the situation, I think it best that we not meet in person. So, here's what I suggest. Gather whomever and whatever you need and we'll meet again ten minutes."
{Aboard the .... ]
Captain Usall nodded in agreement. Turning his attention to his First Officer who clearly was eager to know what their next move was going to be. "Mendez come with me to my Ready Room. Lieutenant Johnson you have the bridge."
[Aboard the Resolute]
Drummond stood just off-center from the Resolute’s command chair, arms folded neatly behind his back as the briefing call ended. The image of Captain Raz flickered out, leaving only the muted hum of the bridge and the faint chirp of system updates. He turned to Lt Commander Elise Moran without missing a beat.
“Ten minutes,” he repeated calmly. “That’s either an eternity or the blink of an eye, depending on what we make of it.”
She nodded. “You want me to prep a briefing packet?”
“No,” he said, straightening. “Not yet. This will be a matter of tone, not content. And I intend to set it properly.”
He tapped his combadge.
“Drummond to Commander Castalano. Please report to the briefing room immediately.” Drummond turned to Moran again, voice lower now.
“Frank’s been on the line longer than most of us. He’s not diplomatic—but he sees through the fog faster than most admirals I’ve met. If I’m going to speak on behalf of the surviving captains, I want his eyes on the room—even if it’s through a screen.”
“You think there’ll be resistance?”
“I think there’ll be instincts,” Drummond replied. “Mendez wants a fight. Kozlov wants a reckoning. Usall… well, he wants reassurance. They all want something. My job is to remind them what Starfleet needs.”
Moran nodded. “And Castalano?”
Drummond’s eyes narrowed faintly. “Castalano reminds me where the lines between duty and vengeance begin to blur—and when to step back before crossing them.”
He turned, walking toward the ready room.
“Have the channel prepped. When we return to that meeting, we will be not just one ship, but one voice.” He paused in the doorway. “And Commander,” he added over his shoulder, “no interruptions during the session—unless the Borg themselves show up on sensors.”
[Aboard the Jane Addams]
"Jane Addams out," Raz said. "Commander Reeves, if you'll join me in my Ready Room. Lieutenant H'iri, coordinate with Doctor Pierce and prepare a packet of survivor reports, for dissemination to each of the ships."
Jason stood up and began following the Captain to his ready room.
H'iri looked over at Raz and asked, "Just clarifying, survivor reports as to what we know from the attacks, or just on this ship? In either case, should I also list the known deceased and the MIA?"
"Make it as complete as you can," Raz said. "There will be politics, no question, and everyone thinking they're in charge, but I want to be clear from the start. We'll share what we know, as much as we know."
"As complete as I can?" H'iri's voice rose to a perceived challenge. "Very well, Captain, I will give you the most complete data that I can manage. How much time will I have to prepare this report?"
"Complete and concise," Raz said. Caitian features didn't lend themselves easily to the expressions found on human faces but it was there, in the body language, that could be read by other Caitians at least. Claws retracted, tail moving lazily, ears alert, the voice dropping to a gentled rumble. "As soon as you can. The meeting starts in ten minutes."
If H'iri noticed anything, she said nothing, "Aye, Captain. I will give you the most complete information I can before then."
"Lieutenant McEntyre, if you see anything on scans, I want to know immediately."
“Aye, Sir.” Elias nods before he turns his console over to his deputy and walks over to the fellow Caitian. “Sir? The Unicorn, it was my father’s command. Thames was their second officer. Just…if you could, Sir…for closure.” Elias asked of his captain.
Captain M'Raz
Commanding Officer
USS Jane Addams
Lt. Commander Jason Reeves
Executive Officer
USS Jane Addams
Lieutenant Micheal Taggart
Chief Flight Officer
USS Jane Addams
Lieutenant Elias McEntyre
Chief of Security
USS Jane Addams
Captain Alexander "Xander" Thames
Commanding Officer
USS Unicorn NCC-1234-A
Captain Harold Drummond
USS Resolute
Lieutenant H'iri
Chief Operations Officer
USS Jane Addams
Captain Marissa Istrate
USS Broker
Captain Hanoh Usall
USS Ahwahee
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