The bridge would need work once they returned home, Halsey had realized as the engineering and operations team had finished their work.  In one hour, they’d restored the consoles and removed the large glass schematic of the Douglas in the rear of the bridge.  Some of the chairs had been burned beyond repair, and others had been hastily reupholstered to remove the blood stains.  He stood near the center chair, feeling the absence of his commanding officer.  Dread was still in a coma.  Reid had handed him the report moments ago.  She was lucky to be alive, and the power had returned in time for her and many others.  Sickbay was fully operational.  Out of five hundred of the crew, fifty were in intensive to critical care, while another one hundred were injured and needed overnight observation.  Leopold Halsey was holding onto hope they had escaped without fatalities.  Fowler remained in sickbay, so Atega was pulling double duty at communications.  They’d located the Devore ship, which was barely functional, explaining why they’d stumbled upon the Douglas with greedy eyes and hands.

Atega turned in her chair, earpiece held in place by hand, “Captain, engineering reports they’ve repaired the Devore ship and are returning home.  They’ve disabled the weapons systems and temporarily disabled the engines.”  She was also watching the science station next to her – there hadn’t been any signs of further Devore ships.  For now.

Leo held on the back of the center chair, “Once they’re back, transport our prisoners back to their ship and open a hailing frequency.”  She worked at the console, and the screen soon showed the enemy ship’s bridge along with the bound figures appearing in a beam of light.  Halsey waited until they looked around, “Officers of the Devore Imperium.  I’m Captain Leopold Halsey of the Federation Starship Douglas.  Your attempts to invade and take our ship have failed.  We’ve repaired your ship within reason,” he noted the disabled weapons and engines, “and will be taking our leave.  We’re not here intentionally, and we don’t wish to remain here any longer than we have to.  Your handcuffs and leg bindings will dissolve within the hour.”  He waited for them to stop struggling before he continued, “We returned each of you to your ship unharmed, which is more than I can say you offered our crew.  We don’t wish to see you again and will make every effort to leave your space as quickly as possible.”  He signaled Atega, who closed the channel.  “Helm, get us out of here.”

William Prentice was happy to follow that order.  He’d been here before on the Mackenzie.  His stomach was heavy with fear.  This place had done them no favors in the previous encounters, and a Devore officer had killed his captain.  He had no love for this part of space.  The Douglas jumped ahead and was on its way.

Halsey sighed—they were only making warp six. The ship was still in the midst of heavy damage control work from deck to deck, and inspections on which decks had suffered the most were ongoing.  “Prentice – time to our departure from Devore space?” 

The flight control chief adjusted his calculations again, “Three hours at this speed, sir.  He knew his answer wasn’t the one anyone wanted to hear.  Three hours in Devore space was a death sentence.  Once the rest of the fleet caught wind of what had happened on the far back edges of their space, it would be a race to catch the Douglas.  It was a race they would not win, no matter how fancy he could fly them.

The XO understood the answer.  He still had not sat in the chair.  “Atega – can you run a panel on the data we pulled from the sensors?”  Halsey walked over and sat down at Fowler’s station, his eyes searching the screens.

“Yes, sir.  What are we looking for?”  Presley Atega was feeling every kind of way with being back in Devore space. Anything that got them closer to getting out was helpful.  She wanted to be helpful.  She wanted to get out of here.  Today.

A gesture at the screen, “There had to be an indicator that started the portal.  Something had to trigger to push open that door.”  He tapped at the console, “Those readings there – tachyon and energy readings…what’s the frequency on those?”  His exposure to science had been limited in his medical journey – he’d studied it tangentially with his work on the human body and the healing process.  He was now wishing he’d spent much more time in it.

Atega squinted at the readings, “Those are the initial senor readings we could recover, but they’re incomplete.  There was too much interference in the records, and we lost just over half of the rest.”  She noticed he hadn’t turned away in frustration.  He was still searching the screen for answers.  “What’s you thought, sir?”

He finally tore his eyes away from the streams of data, saying, “If we can use what we managed to get—and see if we can locate something…similar…we might be able to use it to get out of here and maybe back home.”

Presley hadn’t considered it but was now invested.  She was still cautious, “What if we take the wrong porthole or it sends us into the galaxy center?”  There were too many variables to consider, she worried.

Halsey shook his head, “We don’t have a choice.  We’re in no shape to face the Devore Imperium.  It’s either find a way out…or things become tougher than ever.”  He let the words hang in the air between them, staring at her with the reality they were facing.  “I wish I had better news, Lieutenant.”

She sighed, “I wish I did too, captain.  I’ll find us a way out.”

Halsey stood and moved to the center chair, his hand brushing the matted cloth.  He’d been a captain before and held the center chair.  He would have to sit in it once again…and carry the responsibility of command in the middle of the Delta Quadrant.  The news didn’t seem to get any better the longer he thought about their situation.