Captain Anzyl Praxas sat stiffly before the leaders of the Khitomer Alliance, every decision, action, and report of the past year laid bare for scrutiny. Each Stardate, every mission—reminders of how much had transpired since he took command of Nexus, and how much more lay ahead.
"Stardate 87184," Admiral Quinn's voice echoed in the room as he read from his datapad, "The Nexus enters the Nekrit Expanse."
Anzyl let his head fall to the table with an audible groan. "Ugh, don't remind me, Quinn."
Kumaarke, her vibrant pink skin catching the light, glanced over the report with wide eyes. "Six months mapping the largest known nebula in the Milky Way Galaxy." She raised a brow in disbelief, then gestured to herself. "Now, I like pink," she said, giving a playful nod to her skin tone, "but six months in a pink cloud that spans 4,600 lightyears… oof. Captain, you have my deepest sympathies."
Anzyl raised his head only slightly, still feeling the weight of the memory. "Correction: 4,671 lightyears wide, 4,822 long, 4,363 high," he muttered, dragging his face with exaggerated weariness. "And yes, Admiral, very pink."
L'Rell let out a sharp laugh. "Clever idea, Captain!" she boomed approvingly. "Stardate 87332, hosting the 'Inaugural Nexus Exhibition.' A melee tournament to keep tensions in check on such a long mission—ingenious. Klingon captains could learn a thing or two from you during duller assignments!"
Anzyl waved his hands humbly. "It wasn't my idea. It was my Chief Engineer, Tey'un, who came up with it. I just gave the green light. The crew made it the success it was."
D'Tan, always the stoic, barely concealed his disapproval. "Too vulgar and archaic for my tastes," he said with a frown. "A Federation captain should have a crew disciplined enough not to need such… barbaric distractions. On a Romulan vessel, this would be unheard of."
Loriss, ever pragmatic, sighed. "While I agree personally, D'Tan," she nodded toward Anzyl, "I support the Captain's decision. Nexus is not a Romulan ship, and it would be folly to treat it as such. Any Vorta knows that if Jem'Hadar soldiers do not vent their aggression in battle, they will turn it on each other. The Captain's tournament prevented that kind of chaos from erupting." Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the datapad. "However, I do wish your First Jem'Hadar, Zide'Mok, had fared better—third place is hardly worthy of a Dominion representative."
Anzyl scoffed. "Hey, third place isn't bad. Almost 200 competitors, and Zide'Mok fought his heart out. He would've placed second if Veirik hadn't—"
"Spit on him for the win?" Loriss cut in, unimpressed, her gaze icy as she recalled the details.
L'Rell burst into laughter, slamming a fist on the table. "A win is a win, Vorta! I, for one, can't wait to try this holodeck program you created based on the tournament, Captain! And you didn't fare too badly yourself. Placing fifth in a field of hardened fighters? I look forward to pitting my Bat'leth against your hologram!"
Anzyl smiled wryly, shaking his head. "You might want to take it easy on my hologram, L'Rell. I barely survived the tournament in real life."
Admiral Quinn chimed in with a pleased nod. "I must say, Captain, your 'Nexus Exhibition' holoprogram has become quite the sensation among the Alliance. Warriors from all corners enjoy testing themselves against the best the galaxy has to offer. You've made the Federation proud." He beamed. "And a fine showing from the Federation—O'Reilly taking the championship, Sukar placing fourth, and you securing fifth. Well done, Captain."
L'Rell raised her hand energetically. "I propose we make this an official Khitomer Alliance event! Every four years, the finest warriors from across the galaxy battle it out in the grandest melee tournament ever seen!"
"Like the ancient Olympics of Earth," Quinn mused, raising his hand in agreement. "We could even expand it—add other sports. I hear baseball is making a comeback in the Alpha Quadrant!"
The room echoed with the sound of raised hands in unanimous approval.
"Excellent," Quinn noted on his pad. "Now, moving on. Stardate 87395—Ah, here we are. It seems even the Nexus was not immune to the galaxy-wide holodeck glitches plaguing the Federation."
Anzyl gave a wry grin, nodding. "Turns out running six holodecks 24/7 for several months does, in fact, have consequences."
Quinn's chuckle deepened as he flipped through the pages of the report. "Flotter and the Forest of Forever, Adventures of Captain Proton, Vic Fontaine's Nightclub, the Town of Fair Haven—three separate instances of Lieutenant Commander Data materializing!" He paused, shaking his head in disbelief. "Was there any program that wasn't involved in this fiasco?"
Anzyl shrugged. "By the end, it was hard to keep track. The holodeck's Reginald Barclay program had essentially become a god. He conjured characters and settings from any holoprogram in the system."
"Smart thinking on your part, Captain," D'Tan acknowledged, his tone softening. "Resetting the computer by assigning it trivial but taxing tasks to force a hard reset—it was clever."
Anzyl raised his hands, deflecting the praise. "That was all Chief Tey'un and Dr. Kayuli. Combined, they're not even forty, but those two are the brightest minds I've ever served with. Watching them work is a privilege."
"Unfortunately," D'Tan interrupted, bringing Anzyl back to the cold reality, "there is no medal for breaking the flagship's computer core."
"And what of this Barclay character?" Kumaarke asked, concern lining her voice. "A rogue hologram gaining sentience and running amok in the Alliance's systems could have devastating consequences."
Anzyl nodded seriously. "Chief Tey'un isolated him in a Holographic Tech Cube and sent it to the Daystrom Institute for safekeeping and further study. Barclay's their problem now."
Quinn let out a long sigh. "Let's just hope the real Mr. Barclay never finds out his digital counterpart became a galactic menace—or Mrs. Troi-Riker will never hear the end of it."