McMillan

Captain RoBobby McMillan sat in the center chair of the Intrepid class USS Gibraltar, looking at the viewscreen. He didn't see much though: he was lost in thought. His mind went to the communication he had gotten from Starfleet Command about an hour ago. It had been one word, and one word only: Carolina.

For quite some time already, Starfleet Command had been looking for the Gibraltar's sister ship, which had dropped under the radar. Had it been destroyed? Had it been captured? What had happened to the crew? Nobody knew. In the end, Starfleet had given up on the Carolina, declaring it and its crew Missing In Action.

At least, that was the public story.

Captain McMillan knew better. He had been contacted by Starfleet Intelligence a while back, because of his experience chasing the renegade Slade. And while his mission hadn't been the success he or Starfleet had hoped for, McMillan still had the most experience with going after renegades. That was exactly why Intelligence had recruited him. They had, after all, kept tabs on the Carolina crew. That was, the ones they knew of. Keeping track of Colonel Auer had been a pain in the backside: it soon became the most hated job in the Intelligence taskforce. But it had finally paid off. Colonel Auer seemed to have teamed up with a couple of others, stolen a Defiant class vessel, and left. Rumour had it Seelowe was with them, but not the Captain Seelowe McMillan knew so well. This was a different one. A Seelowe clone from the future.

McMillan sighed to himself. In response to Starfleet's message, the Gibraltar was on its way to Starbase 38 for further orders. He hated to leave the survey of the nebula unfinished, but this was important. He wondered to himself what his next orders would be. . . but he knew it'd probably be to go after Seelowe, Auer and whomever else was there. This, he realised, would be interesting. . .