>As the other med-tech finished cleaning up his injuries, David  stood,
>"Absolutely." He took his PADD and said, "Ready when you are."

>Wilson tapped her combadge.  "Mars station.  Four to beam your coordinates."

>The raspy voice that had already become quite familiar to the group was the
>one to respond to the request for transport.  "We will transport you to the
>primary dome of the colony."

>A moment later the foursome felt the familiar tingling of transporter run
>through their bodies as their molecules were sent hundreds of miles across
>the planet. They reformed in a small transporter room that was clearly not a
>public transport terminal.  It also had the subdued quality of a Starfleet
>transporter room since it lacked much of the advertising found in commercial
>transport spaces.

>An older woman stepped forward. She had reddish brown hair cut short around
>her face.  She was also wearing the familiar red of command with the pips to
>support a rank of Captain.  She was familiar looking to Boulay, but  he did
>not actually know her.

>"Welcome to Mars Control. I am Captain Jenna Firehawk, the CO of this
>facility.  I must apologize for what greeted you when you arrived."

>"No problem, Sir," Wilson replied.  "How is Commander K'Tael?"

(Jenna's response)

"Any update on the ship that attacked us?"


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