A soldier, clad in the uniform of the Armed Forces of the Civitates Foederatae Americae, double checks his rifle, the vaunted Pilum M-1. It was a bolt action rifle, one of the most reliable in the Foederatae, and one that the Army had adopted as its official rifle. The spray of the early-morning sea gave the air a chilly aura as the Higgins Navi made its way towards the coast. The Army and Navy had been planning Operatio PHAEDRA for months, selecting the best places to land and trying to draw the forces of Borussiae away from their landing sites. Now, on the 17th of Prairial, CLI (151), the combined forces of the CFA, Alba, and Éire now send their landing craft towards the beaches of destiny. As the soldiers check their ballistic Pilums, the sound of cannons and mortars can be heard, with corresponding splashes around the Navis. The men shifted uncomfortably. Each of them knew their duty, but they were unsettled. 

USS Los Angeles, in Orbit around the Planet

On the bridge, operations onboard the Los Angeles were slowly returning to normal. Siobhan had ordered the astrometrics lab to find them the direction on how far away they were from Federation space, and to contact Starfleet Command with a report on what had happened. The ship was once again humming smoothly, and Siobhan noticed that the second time Eloisa came to report to the bridge, she looked a lot less stressed and a hell of a whole lot tired. The holes had been patched, the nacelles repaired, and shields were back to full operation. The only outstanding items to repair were incidentals (replicators, light fixtures, and other minor issues).

 The Captain and First Officer were still recovering but were expected to return to full duty in a matter of days. Siobhan herself was beyond stressed but managing. Little did she know that things were about to get rather interesting. “Commander, I’m picking up something. On our planet scans.”
“Report, Ops.” 
“Well, ma’am; scans are detecting a massive naval operation underway. The sensors are reading ships similar in design to the old Earth naval ships belonging to the United States, around half a millennia ago. The computer is reading them as closely related in design to the Fletcher-class destroyers, Higgins assault boats, Landing Ship Tanks, and other support ships.” The young ensign paused for a moment. “Ma’am, if I didn’t know better, it looks like there’s going to be a D-Day invasion. In our century.” 

Siobhan considered what her OPS officer was telling her. On the one hand, this could be a unique opportunity; on the other, any sort of intervention could be seen as breaking the Prime Directive or worse, changing the destiny of the people in the world below. Any sort of interference, even if well intentioned, could reveal the presence of a technologically superior civilization to a world that could very well be determining its own future in this very moment. Siobhan sighed and rubbed her temple with her fingers. It was times like this that she hated command. She didn’t want to make these decisions. She wanted to go ask Commander Abramov, but she was still in recovery, and probably couldn’t give her much advice, even if she wanted to. 

“Orders, ma’am?” The young ensign prodded her, his inexperience showing. 
“Stand by, OPS.” Siobhan took a deep breath. “Ensign, I want you to continue monitoring the battle. Let me know how it’s going; also, if sensors can tell us who is engaging whom, and see what we can pick up.”
“Aye, ma’am.” The ensign dutifully returned to his duty at the station, monitoring. 
“Helm, maintain a high orbit. We don’t know what their detection capabilities are.” “High orbit, aye ma’am.” 

Siobhan took another deep breath. She heard the turbolift doors open, and turned to see who was entering the bridge. She smiled when she saw it was the Captain, walking in albeit with a cane to help him with balance. She smiled and stood. 

“Captain on the bridge!” she called out, as everyone stood up at attention. 
“At ease, at ease. I’m not here yet. At least, if Dr. Rehman asks, I’m not here.” He gave a sly smile to his bridge crew as he slowly made his way to his First Officer’s normal seat. He had his head bandaged and was limping a bit, but he looked okay. At least, okay enough. Siobhan sat in his chair, smiling at his presence. 

“Well, it’ll take a few more days before I can take the LA off your hands, Miss Pearse. But I thought I’d come up here and see how you were faring.”
“Captain, it’s great to see you. Well, we’ve got the ship repaired and she’s back to almost normal. We’re combat effective, and all systems are nominal. The important ones at least.” 
“Good, good. Well done. I’ll make sure to note your contributions in my log and put you up for a commendation. You’ve earned it.” 
“Thank you, Captain. We also have something interesting.” 
“Oh? What’s up?” 
“We uncovered a world that is going through its own version of World War II, and today is their D-Day.” Siobhan tapped a few commands on her console in the captain’s chair, and the first officer’s display lit up with data. “As you can see sir, we have a large formation of ships, all based on designs from the old United States navy, approaching and engaging an entrenched enemy. Positions are here and here.” 
Captain Oteng nodded, understanding immediately the implications of what his Second Officer was telling him. As a student of history, he understood the significance of Operation Overlord and how it shaped the world to come. 
“Can they detect us?” Captain Oteng asked. 
“I don’t think so, but we can’t say for sure. If they’re following the parameters that Earth followed, then no. But we don’t know how advanced they are. 
“Hmmm. Obviously, we can’t make contact…that’s a Prime Directive thing.” 
“Yes, sir. That was my thought as well. But at the same time, we should help. Though I’m not sure how.” 
“Keep observing. If you really need intelligence, send a team down in their uniforms, and tell them to keep their heads down.” 
“Sir, if we’re going to send a team down, perhaps it would be useful to call up the Hazard Situation Response Team. I know that Saroga is putting the teams through their paces, and this may be a good test.”
Fabien nodded at Siobhan’s suggestion. “Not a bad idea. I’ll tell Lt. Spencer to activate the team and start getting them ready. Talk to Commander Aranda. Tell her that I want her to design body armor that is impenetrable by bullets and to protect them as much as possible. Take detailed scans of the uniform, if you can. If not, we can use the uniform of the old United States around this time.” 
“Aye, sir. Do you want to give the order?” 
“Yes, I’ll order the reconnaissance, that way you don’t get any blowback from command if it goes south. Keep the scans go –” Fabien was interrupted by Dr. Rehman, who had stormed the bridge and made his way to the command chairs. 
“Captain, you are not cleared for active duty. As Chief Medical Officer, I’m afraid I will have to escort you back to sickbay and confine you there.”
Fabien rolled his eyes and grimaced. Here were the consequences of his own actions. He knew he had left sickbay against the doctor’s advice, and he was paying for it in gold. When it came to medical anything, the Doctor had the first and last word, and his authority was absolute. Even Fabien couldn’t countermand Dr. Rehman’s orders. So, he resigned himself to the absolute lecture that would absolutely be coming his way. “I’m coming. Just trying to get some action before going stir crazy.”
“I understand, Captain, but you are in no shape to resume command. At least not for another 48 hours.” 
The captain just sighed. “Alright, I’m coming.” With that, he stood up, and limped away, Dr. Rehman following him. Siobhan stifled a giggle. The dynamic between those two was funny, and she always enjoyed seeing Dr. Rehman put Captain Oteng in his place. 
“Ops, continue scans. I want to know what’s going on down there.” Siobhan settled in for scans, slightly excited for the opportunity to see what was going on and maybe, just maybe, see history being made.