Story:The Longest Night

Badra al-Basra, captain of the USS *Appalachia* her chief engineer, Evesh Izzta, and several other officers stood before a large viewport, looking upon the familiar shape of the *Steamrunner*-class.

"She looks...different. What did they do to her?" whispered Izzta. Even from a distance she could tell that they had not restored the *Appalachia* as she had been. The damage from the battle at Starbase 45 had been extensive, but this was more than repairs. As they moved closer, her engineer's eyes started noting specific changes.

The group all turned when they heard the cabin door open. A lean Andorian entered and gazed at each of the gathered officers in turn before addressing them.

"Welcome. The *Appalachia*..." he emphasized by pointing out at the starship, "is back up and running. You've noticed she is missing a few things, and once you're aboard you'll notice even more. She's been refit to serve your new role as blockade runners."

"Starfleet is starting to push into Cardassian and Breen space. In addition to military operations, we've been tasked with getting urgent supplies to colonies that are near or behind enemy lines. The lower-risk supply routes will be managed by freighters, but some of the others are too dangerous for civilian vessels. The Breen and Jem'Hadar have been ravaging convoys further out.

"You will be leading out in the Tango sector. Your ship has received a number of upgrades and changes to make her more suitable for this mission: more cargo space, lower mass, better sensor suites, upgraded impulse and warp capability, as well as a number of energy reduction and masking capabilities.

"As sector lead, your vessel will be responsible for mapping and updating safe corridors for the other blockade runners assigned to Tango. They will be hauling life-saving cargo along those corridors.

"Your captain, Badra al-Basra, has been briefed on all other pertinent information." He nodded at al'Basra, "Captain, she is all yours. There will be no formal send-off. Good luck."

The last two months seemed like two years. For that matter, the last two minutes felt like two months. al-Basra couldn't count how many times they had stopped dead in space, as they were now, in a nebula or asteroid belt.

Though it probably didn't make a difference, the bridge crew had taken to sitting silently during these agonizing waits in the dark. The only sound was that of the oxygen flowing through their masks.

After two more minutes the Breen *Plesh Brek* went to warp. Several more, and then a thumbs up from Dhez at sensors. The lights came back on, and the crew removed their masks.

"Plot the ship's trajectory on the chart and transmit to the fleet," after a glance at the display beside her Captain al-Basra continued, "take us to 007.332."

She looked at the weary bodies of her crew, "Izzta, get everyone a drink."

It felt strange to see sunlight not filtered through a viewscreen. It felt strange to be surrounded by so many people. Even though they all smiled and wanted to greet her and congratulate her crew, she felt that she needed to hide. She looked over her shoulder, accompanied by the constant fear of being found.

Amazingly, Captain al-Basra and her crew had seen no combat during their time as blockade runners, but they had lost other ships, they had run for their lives and hidden out for days, breathing through those horrid masks and hardly daring to eat or relieve themselves.

It had felt like crawling out of a dark hole in the ground when they had arrived at Earth after the war. They were received as heroes, but Badra didn't feel like one. They had spent their time slinking and hiding and tracking like filthy rats.

Badra felt a semblance of her former self returning now. The banquet of recognition for her crew was joyous, for all but them. Still, they plastered on smiles, tracked down dress uniforms, and checked over their shoulders.

It had been Izzta who had spoken up. They had stolidly pressed on and received new assignments after "a well-deserved rest." Izzta had been the only one brave enough to break the silence and tell someone how awful it had been. When the counselor had shown up at Badra's door, she broke down sobbing. She didn't remember any of what happened for the days following.

She knew now that after Izzta had gone for help with the trauma, Medical had pulled everyone off of their assignments for extended psychological evaluation. The last two months felt like two years, but she could finally feel again. She knew who she was. Badra al-Basra, proud but retired captain of the USS *Appalachia*.