The Gate

Posted on Fri Jul 4th, 2025 @ 9:51pm by Commodore Elias McEntyre & Lieutenant Colonel W.B Llewelyn & Major Clay McEntyre III & Ensign Quinn L’ket & Emery Tyris-McEntyre & Captain Niun Standing Bear & Captain Remira Johansen & Commander Cressida Vale MD & Commander Gil’an Tyris & Lieutenant Commander Jalay Prinnet & Lieutenant Commander Drevas & Sergeant Jace Morven & Lieutenant JG Zahra el-Saad & Lieutenant JG Elen Rell & Lieutenant JG Zinaren

3,774 words; about a 19 minute read

Mission: Pilot - "The Gate"
Location: Orbit of Borg Transwarp Gate
Timeline: MD001

Ship’s Log, U.S.S. Guinevere. Stardate 61050.1 Commodore Elias McEntyre Recording.

After Six Months, we’ve finally located the goal of our expedition. The Borg Transwarp Gate that was detected by the Reclamation Project. The Guinevere has been holding station in synchronous orbit with the gate for the last two days.

The Guin had been holding near the gate for 2 days. A long two days. Out in the open, while Dr. Tyris, the Chief Engineer and their teams investigate the gate. It was in a dormant state, floating just off the bow of the ship, looming. It was mysterious in every aspect. Where did it lead was the biggest question on their minds as Elias leans back in the Captain’s chair on the bridge, waiting for a report from the chief science officer.

The Transwarp Gate was the largest - and most complex - piece of technology that Gil Tyris has personally seen. The aperture itself was just under 10,000 meters wide, large enough for two Borg cubes to pass comfortably side-by-side, with plenty of room to spare. But so far, it was just a huge chunk of polyduranium and monotanium alloys; as stubborn as the Gate’s power systems were being, it may as well be 100 billion metric tons of scrap metal.

“All of the Gate’s systems are powered down,” said Gil, shaking his head slightly. “We have transmitted every activation sequence we can think of, based upon not only my own work but that of Commanders LaForge and Data and the Daystrom Institute.” He spin around and faced the Commodore. “Sir, I just don’t know what we’re doing wrong here.”

Elias stands, walking over to the science station, looking over at the readings on Gil’s console. He leans down to be on Gil’s level. “I don’t think it’s anything we’re doing wrong. It could also be a number of things we’re not considering. Did Engineering get back to you with the power reports?” He asked his husband.

“They did,” said Gil with a slight nod. “They don’t think the aperture is capable of producing its own power without a catalyst. A jump-start, if you will. Rigging up a power transfer beam would take about two hours.”

Elias nods before tapping his commbadge

“Bridge to Engineering. Chief Jalay, Ms. Rell, how fast can you get a power transfer beam going to the Gate? Dr. Tyris says 2 hours but I’m betting that you can have it done sooner.” Elias asked as he smirks at his husband.

Lieutenant Commander Jalay sounded a bit harried over the comm. "Unless you've all been hiding a stash of Borg tech in a cargo bay, we're going to have to rig up some seat-of-the-pants level adapters. Rell, what do you think?"

"Depends, Commodore," Elen replied, her tone light but alert, the low thrum of the warp core behind her. "Two hours if we want it civilised. Ninety minutes if you’re happy with a bit of turbulence and creative rerouting. Like the poem says: ‘She who harnesses fire must first make friends with the flame.’ I’ll keep her warm, not wild."

There was a moment of silence on the comm, then Jalay added, "I'd agree with the time estimate, maybe not the poetry."

"Understood, Get Started." Elias told her, turning back to Gil.

"Let's start that power transfer." Elias said before he turns and returns to his chair.

“Anything on Sensors, Tactical?” Elias turns in his chair towards Drevas, his tactical officer. The tall Kelpien hunched over his console purely out of the fact he was that tall, about as tall as Elias was.

"Nothing about the Gateway or its features suggests weaponry or defensive mechanisms of any kind." Drevas responds. It's the first time he's seen something quite so sophisticated, in fact; his mind is reeling a little as the sensor readouts on his console slowly run down the screen.

"There are, however, anomalous gravity wakes and slight neutrino flux within its vicinity - given its current inactive state, I would guess that those are most likely caused by the environmental factors of our current location." He adds.

"Gravity Wakes? Could it be a problem with the sensor array?" Elias questioned.

"Checking. Though I believe it to be unlikely - given that we are within proximity of the site of the Hobus supernova, it is reasonable to assume that stellar phenomena would be common here," Drevas remarks as his hands run over the controls.

"Let me know if those gravity readings change."

"Yes, sir." Drevas responds.

The turbolift door opened, admitting Dr. Cressida Vale onto the bridge. She stood behind the Commodore’s chair, hands behind her back. “Sickbay operations going smoothly, sir.” She smiled and looked around. “Things going well here?”

Elias looks up at his Second Officer and CMO, nodding his head. "For the most part. The Gate just doesn't want to turn on. Though I am concerned about being out in the open like this. We're bound to run into Remnant Romulans if we're not careful.

“Well, if they try it, the medical team is ready to keep our people on their feet,” she asserted. “And if a stray torpedo takes you two out, well, I’ll just have to take command from Deck Eleven,” she added with a grin. A bit of dark humour, she supposed.

Niun, looked up from the display he'd been reading on his chair, and flashed a glance at the doctor. "So soon," he quipped before moving his gaze back to the readouts.

"I hope it doesn't come to that Doctor, cause once we get the gate open, we're to see what's on the other side."

Elias turned to Gil.

"Is the Iliad probe ready?" He asked his husband. The Iliad probe was one of Starfleet's most advanced probes. Warp capable with extremely long range. It could function independently if necessary.

“Ready and waiting in forward tube two,” explained the Bak’u. The Iliad probe was some of the most impressive technology ever produced by the Federation. The probe incorporated a multi-spatial sensor array with an uprated thruster package and warp sustainer coils. It had been designed to help the Federation detect and mitigate incoming threats; the Iliad name was thus apt, since the epic poem was considered to be a meditation upon the nature of conflict and the importance of free will.

It was in that moment, alarms from the Tactical Console began to trill, warning signals. Elias quickly looked at Drevas.

"Hostile contact. Four D'deridex-class warbirds, approaching." Drevas doesn't waste any more time; his fingers fly over his console, preparing to shunt power to their phaser arrays.

Elias didn't have a chance to respond as the ship rocked hard, lurching everyone on the bridge off balance as the 4 ships open fire.

--- Meanwhile, in Engineering... ---

One moment, Lieutenant Commander Jalay was standing at one of the central workbenches in Engineering, cheerfully up to her elbows in a power transfer adapter, while Lieutenent Rell read from a Federation report about Borg energy distribution systems (with more than a standard amount of color commentary thrown in). The next moment, she was on the floor with a power transfer adapter weighing down on her chest, smoke and sparks filling the air.

She was no stranger to surprise attacks--she intuitively knew that's what it must be. She kept her head, but she was far more used to being on the other side of them, doing the surprising. She preferred it the other way around, she decided.

“Shit, Chief!”

Elen was already moving, hauling herself out from behind the console she'd been tossed into. Her left sleeve was scorched, one cheek smeared with something probably-not-toxic-but-definitely-ouchie, and her braid had half come loose in a flurry of static. But she was upright, alive, and very much on fire: figuratively. Mostly.

She scrambled across the scorched deck plating, boots skidding slightly as she dropped to her knees beside the Lieutenant Commander. The acrid smell of burnt circuitry bit at her nose.

“You’re not dead, right? Because I really don’t want to explain this to the Commodore with singed eyebrows again...oh stars, you are under it...okay, hang on!”

She braced and heaved the power transfer adapter off Jalay’s chest with a grunt, muscles and adrenaline doing what engineering protocols could not. “Right, okay, breathing is good. Breathing is important.”

Her hands hovered for a second, unsure whether to go full first aid or full diagnostics. “Are you hurt-hurt, or just the kind of hurt that comes with bonus bruises and a story later? Because I’ve got a medkit stashed in the ceiling pane...long story...and a strong opinion about people bleeding in my engine room.” She watched her, seeing she was okay, and exhaled.

Air cyclers were already clearing the smoke from the air, and the shield generators coming online were drawing enough power to cause the plasma conduits beneath their feet to hum. The master systems display that dominated the far wall of Engineering was showing red all around the main deflector--probably not a direct hit to the array itself, but an ancillary deflector component.

"Everyone knows what to do, so do it!" Jalay shouted. She made her way over to the MSD and grabbed a PADD to begin coordinating damage control teams. And I was going to have such a pleasant day working with power transfer beams.

--- Back on the bridge... ---

"Red Alert! All hands, stand to Battlestations! Mr. Drevas, lock quantum torpedoes, full spread!”

Elias turned to the doctor. “Doc, grab Emery, he’s at daycare on Deck 11 near sickbay, then prep for casualties.”

“Yes, sir,” Cressida said as she was out like a shot for the turbolift.

“Helm, evasive action, Delta-6” Elias turned to face the view screen.

“Delta Six, aye,” Zahra repeated as she keyed in the commands, taking the ship on a twisting path ‘down’, making it harder for the Romulan Warbirds to target them and keeping the ship’s best phaser arrays and aft torpedo launchers toward the enemy.

“Mr. Drevas, Quantum Torpedoes, FIRE!” Elias ordered as the ship lurched hard again. The ship felt like it was spinning out of control, sparks flying across the bridge from the impacts.

"Fi-" Drevas has to take a moment to catch the edge of his console before stabbing his finger on screen, firing quantum torpedoes at their foes. One second can save them a world of hurt. That much he's learned by now.

The ship rocked hard as Romulan disruptor fire tore through their defensive systems. The Guinevere started to list.

“The last hit took out gyro-shields!” Zahra called out. “I’m having trouble keeping us oriented right.”

Elias gripped the chair as he tried to get back upright. The Inertial Dampers were having a hard time keeping up.

“Reorient with RCS thrusters! Communications, prep for broadcast open a priority channel!”

“Aye!” Reported the CFCO, already on it, trying to keep them upright with RCS.

“Mr. Drevas, phasers, target the nearest warbird, attack pattern alpha!”

"Attack pattern alpha. Yes, sir." Drevas' hands stay firmly on his console as he fires their phasers at the warbird's weapons arrays.

——Deck 11——

The childcare facilities were mostly on Deck 12, so it was a minor miracle that Emery Tyris-McEntyre was at the Deck 11 daycare at this time, already very close to where Cressida needed to go.

They had drilled for this. The Commodore needed to be in control. He could not be in full control of the situation if a part of his brain was wondering if his son was safe. So it was in the best interest of the entire crew if Emery was with her.

The daycare staff looked worried, but they were keeping a brave face for the kids. One of them nodded to her and gestured toward the half-Caitian half-Bak’u child.

“Emery,” she said to get his attention. Then she gave him the code phrase, the silly one that told him that his dads needed him to go with her to be safe, just like they practiced. “Time to live in the Meow.”

Emery perked up, standing and running over to the doctor on chubby legs, scrambling up in the doctors arms.

"Docriss, what's happening?" He asked with shaky voice. Guinevere hadn't been in many battles. A rare thing for a Federation Starship to be engaged on a regular basis in hostile action. Though he had been told numerous times by his fathers, his teachers, even those of his fathers' crewmates, it was another thing to experience the real thing.

“The ship is being attacked,” she told him, her voice level and soft as she hefted him up and started walking. “We’re going to do like we practised, right? You’re coming with me so daddy and papa know you’re safe. It might be a bit scary, but we’re gonna be brave together, right?”

The young Caitian nodded but his face told her that he was still scared. His tail drooped as she held him,

“I…I’ll be brave Docriss.”

"I know you will," Cressida told him, holding him tight as they reached sickbay.

When the two of them got to there, she brought the young boy into her office. “You’re safe here okay? If you need something, call out for me.” This was the outpatient sickbay, where she could do her best work getting crew shipshape and back to it, and could keep her eye on Emery through the window of the office. She tapped her commbadge. “Sickbay to bridge. Package is secure. Handling incoming patients.”

——Back on the bridge——

On the bridge, sparks continue to fly as Elias slowly lumbers over to the communication station, hunching over the shoulders of an ensign in blue.

"Channel Ready." The ensign told the Commodore. Elias nods.

"Open the channel." Elias told the ensign. She nods, hands flying across the console as the channel opens.

—————

Meanwhile: U.S.S. Astrea - Location: Romulan Neutral Zone

Around the same time, the Astrea continued its course towards new horizons in the former Romulan Star Empire. On the bridge, Major Clay McEntyre the Third had taken the mid watch. It had been a slow shift. Nothing major to report. Ensign Le’ket at the helm, both Caitians.

Clay leaned back in the Captain’s chair, a cup of coffee in his hand. Perks of being the duty officer, the big chair. The silence though was breached by the rapid beeping of the communications console.

“Major?” The officer at Communications station spoke up. “Incoming Commpic. Priority One, a distress call.”

This made Clay’s ears perk up as he got up and headed for the communication station.

“From where?” He asked as he got there, looking over the shoulder of the young ensign.

“Approximately 20 light years away, Federation signal codex. Computer identifies it as the U.S.S. Guinevere, a ship out of..”

“Deep Space 12” Clay finished turning around and tapping his commbadge. “Captain Johansen to the Bridge”

The Captain's response was quick. "On my way, Major."

Within a few minutes the turbolift doors opened and Captain Johansen stepped briskly onto the Bridge, her red hair pulled neatly back at the base of her neck. "What's going on, Major?"

"We're intercepting a Priority One Distress Call.” Clay explained as the captain came onto the bridge.

“Put it up on screen, Major” Remy said, taking her seat at the conn.

The comms crackled, the viewscreen fuzzy like an old VHS tape with terrible tracking before the image of a very large and striking Caitian in Admiralty Red appeared on the screen. Eeerly looking similar to the Marine Major standing behind Remy.

“Imperative: This is Commodore Elias McEntyre of the Federation Starship Guinevere! Under attack by Romulan Remnant Raiders. Coordinates to follow, any federation starship in range, require immediate reinforcements!”

"Are there any other ships in range?" Remy asked as she looked up at the Caitian Major. Clay looked at her, worry in his eyes. Something was seriously wrong if Clay looked like he had saw a ghost, or looked this worried.

The captain’s chair beeped with incoming coordinates, a short distance away.

“Only ship in range. The next nearest is the U.S.S. Legacy but she’s a good week out from their position.” Clay replied from where he was at.

“Captain, if he’s putting out a distress call, then it’s bad.”

"How long to get there at maximum warp, Ensign?" Remy asked.

“At Warp 9, 76.6 hours. We could make it quicker with the slipstream, sir” Quinn replied from the helm.

"Advise engineering to prepare the slipstream drive, we'll need them to have it ready A-S-A-P," Remy replied. "Prepare the course."

“Hands to Battlestations!” Clay called out as he readied shields and weapons for action.

“Course plotted and laid in, Captain” Quinn announced a moment later.

A few minutes later they heard from Commander Winters over comms, "Slipstream drive is ready, Captain."

"Engage."

—— U.S.S. Guinevere ——

Elias hoped his message had gotten through. Turning his head towards tactical he spoke again.

"Drevas, Quantum Torpedoes, fire as she bear. We're going to have to hold out for a bit longer." The ship rocked again, more sparks flying. Elias' head nearly met the console as the ship rolled.

"Helm, find us a better position, is there any cover we can get too?"

"Firing as she bears." Drevas winces sharply as he's nearly thrown off his console; he has to catch the edge of his console as he tips sharply to the left. Then he fires quantum torpedoes at the opposing warbirds.

The torpedoes raced from the launchers, slamming into one warbird but missing another.

“Sir, there are some rogue asteroids, eleven million kilometres away, bearing zero-five-nine,” Zahra reported. “Along our plane, captured in the gate’s gravity. Time to the nearest one is one-four-six seconds.”

“Bank for the asteroids, best speed!” Elias called out as he was thrown back into the captains chair.

“Aye, sir!” At Zahra’s input, the ship’s banked hard toward the asteroids at a quarter of the speed of light. “Two minutes,” she reported, trying to ignore other inputs, including the shake of the ship of ongoing Romulan fire. “One minute…”

The comm system chirped. "Bridge, Engineering." Jalay spoke loudly to be heard over alarms. "Damage control needs more time to get gyro-sensors back online. If you're doing what I think you're doing, keep your eyes on those rocks, the ship's already struggling to stay oriented and that's going to matter a lot more when we're that close!"

Elias grabbed onto the armrest of his chair, holding on as the ship lurched like a lumbering moose. He tapped the circuit to engineering.

"We'll do our best, Chief, no promises. Get on those Gyro Shields!"

"DC team one is already there. El-Saad, don't scrape the paint."

“I promise nothing!” Zahra called back as she prepared to make the final maneuvers among the rocks.

It was a tight squeeze, but they were almost where the rocks would help break line of fire.

The Guin would not make it to the field, as fate decided a lucky torpedo from the lead romulan warbird slams into the side of the Guin's neck, seind her spirally, with her shields giving up, dropping as sparks flew on the bridge, engineering, anywhere else as the EPS grid blew.

Alarms sounded on Drevas' console, transporter alerts. They were being boarded.

"Commodore. We are being boarded. Several teams." Drevas reported from his console. "I'd be pleased to handle them myself." He added at the very end.

Elias nods as he turns to his XO and Tactical Officer.

"XO! Take Deck 19, they'll try to cut our life support. Drevas, Tell Colonel Llewelyn to fire up his response teams, take Deck 8 and work down, go with him, off you go now." Elias orders as he stumbles over to the Tactical console to take over from Drevas.

"Yes, sir." Drevas raced into the turbolift. Finally a chance to stretch his limbs - hopefully he'd not get them blown off today.

"Aye, Sir," Niun said. He moved quickly, sliding in behind Drevas. "Deck 19."

------ U.S.S. Astrea -----

A tense thirty minutes later, the swirling miasma of Slipstream opened, ejecting the starship Astrea. What she saw could only be described as someone being jumped and dogpiled. Clay stared at the site from behind the tactical station on the Astrea. He ran his fingers along the sensor readings as they slowly approached.

"Sensors show that Guinevere's shields are down. We have three Romulan Warbirds in range on multiple vectors. Sensors are also detecting weapons fire from onboard Guin." Clay reported.

"Can you get a lock on the warbirds, Major? Disable shields and weapons," Remy ordered.

On the view screen, a ship, limping away, being pursued by three massive warbirds. They screamed weapon fire on the battered ship. Clay parsed his lips, they must have been jumped he thought.

"We're locked on to the nearest warbird, Captain."

"Fire."

----- U.S.S. Guinevere -----

Sensors alarmed on the bridge, a Tactical Officer had relieved Drevas looked up at the Commodore.

"Sir, new contact, slipstream, from astern. Federation!"

Elias felt relieved, his message had gotten through. He took a gamble, not knowing if reinforcements from DS-12 would even get here in time.

"Which Ship?" Elias asked as he retook his seat in the center chair.

The tactical officer keyed his computer. "U.S.S. Astrea"

Astrea....Astrea...Elias eyes went wide. He tapped the comm circuit on his chair and opened a Channel.

----- U.S.S. Astrea -----

Clay checked his console again. An Incoming message from the Guinevere.

"Astrea, this is Commodore McEntyre, target those warbirds!"

----- END OF PART ONE -----

Commodore Elias McEntyre
Commanding Officer
U.S.S. Guinevere

Commander Cressida Vale, MD
Chief Medical Officer and Second Officer
U.S.S. Guinevere

Commander Dr. Gil Tyris
Chief Science Officer
U.S.S. Guinevere

Major Clay McEntyre III
Marine Commanding Officer
U.S.S. Astrea

Lieutenant Commander Jalay Prennet
Chief Engineer
U.S.S. Guinevere

Lieutenant Commander Drevas
Chief Tactical Officer
U.S.S. Guinevere

Lieutenant JG Zahra el-Assad
Chief Flight Control Officer
U.S.S. Guinevere

Ensign Quinn Le'ket
Quartermaster
U.S.S. Astrea.

Lt. JG Elen Rell
Acting Assistant Chief Engineer
U.S.S Guinevere

Captain Remira Johansen
Commanding Officer
U.S.S. Astrea

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