"Incoming wounded"

by
Koen as James A. Brooke

It didn't take that long for Brooke, and the rest of the medical staff, to loose the overview of the battle completely. Once the first wounded started coming in, they had priority and what happened to the rest of the ship was the rest of the ship's problem. Brooke did the first triage, untill they brought in a burn victim. Plasma burns were common during battle, and the most dreaded of wounds. If it was just a couple of spots, it wasn't that bad, but the person beamed in now was almost beyond recognition.

"I'll take this one," Brooke said, "get him on oxygen and give him some blood." The first priority was always to make sure that the patient lived through the operation, and they weren't operating yet. First of all they needed to see how bad it was. That didn't take long, as it was all bad. "Okay," Brooke said to his team, "first the lungs, then we'll worry about the exterior. Let's get started."

It took Brooke three hours to get the lungs so that they could function again without outside assistance. They would need to heal for a long time, but he would be in here for a long time anyway. That was the one thing with burn wounds, they took an amazing amound of time to heal proparly, even with 24th century technology. After another hour, they stopped. Severe burns like this have to be treated in steps, and slowly. They would have to operate at least another five times before recovery could begin.

"Get him to the ward," Brooke said, "private room with clean field." Burn victims could easily catch an infection, because the barrier the skin normally provided was broken. So that's why they were put in seperate rooms with a simular field like they used on the surgery units. But there was little time to reflect further, as the next patient was already brought in.

"Mexican Standoff...on Breen!"

With unauthorized appearances by those chilling out in the company of the Breen. (No pun intended.)

* Note: Since this is unauthorized, feel free to strike it from the record if you feel that it stepped on anyone's toes (Editor's Note: It's a good piece and well-written. Why not show it off to the viewing world?).

Time: Shortly after the Hydran and T'hith K'in (no doubt misspelled!) attack.

Location: The Guest Wing, Breen.

"HEE HEE HEE! Now this...THIS is what I miss the most!" Commander Christopher Kell Thomas mused with a whimsical laugh. He turned to Ensign Wikkins, the massive glacier of a security officer assigned to watch over him and waived his hands. "I hope you are taking this all in, boy."

The sandy haired officer looked slightly more confused than normal. Thomas just cackled wildly and slapped his hands against his knees repeatedly.

Across the room, the collective Miranda and Galaxy officers just looked at one another.

Having dealt with Thomas before when he was Chief of Security on the ship, the Bajoran commanding officer stepped foreword and placed a hand on Wikkin's thick arm.

"At ease, Ensign. Perhaps the former First Officer of the USS Galaxy would care to elaborate on just what it is that he finds to be so amusing. That is if his mind is not too clouded with cheap liqueur to formulate a clear thought." Captain Elithian spat, making little - if any - attempt at hiding the contempt he felt at the Commander's behavior.

Thomas laughed again - this time slapping the surface of the conference table that he alone sat behind. He shook his head and then locked his gaze with the Captain.

"My dear Jii ... may I call you Jii? I must confess that I am not as accustomed to the ways of the Bajorans as I am to the Breen, but I thought I remembered some silly little thing about the names of your people and that calling you by your second name in some way binds us in matrimony? Maybe that was the Drelxians. In any event, I don't want to complicate things in your life by taking you as a mate - as much as that idea may appeal to you."

"That's enough, Commander!" Captain M'Kantu said loudly, leaving little room for argument.

Thomas brought both fists down on the table top.

"OR WHAT?!? This is still a free universe, or most of it is. Can I not still speak my mind? Will you have me exiled to the edge of the universe again? Look around you and drink deep of the irony that you are here with me right now!" he said gesturing wildly.

"Your issues with decisions of Starfleet in regard to your posting after you voluntarily resigned from the Galaxy are not pertinent to the crisis at hand. Nor will they help us resolve the matter. What will help us is your unique knowledge of the Breen themselves and your years of experience in that uniform." M'Kantu said, trying to be as political as possible.

Thomas laughed loudly.

"Did you just tell me to do it for STARFLEET? Captain you have balls as big as church bells! Why should I go out of my way to aide STARFLEET?!?! They have everything in under control no doubt."

He stood up and pointed to the viewscreen.

"Why, look there! We have the fabled GALAXY and the mighty MIRANDA both here on the scene. Naturally a crisis has erupted that threatens to tip the balance of power in this sector. This time it is not one, nor 2 but 3 hostile races that have converged in one alley, in what appears to be an old fashioned Mexican Stand Off. Surely nothing the vaunted crew of both ships can't handle. As a side note: both ships have somehow botched things so badly, that they left their commanding officers stranded on this lovely little ball of ice I call home."

Thomas paused and scratched his graying goatee.

"What kind of first year cadet move was that? You DO know that you have First Officers aboard so you don't have to find yourselves in this situation, don't you?"

"I said that's enough, Mister Thomas!" M'Kantu said.

"Don't you have a third nacelle to polish? Or an engineering staff to whip into shape? When you try to be authoritative, you sound like a poor man's John Bhrode."

Captain M'Kantu drew himself up to his full height.

"Ensign Wikkins, would you be so kind as to place Commander Thomas under arrest. Feel free to escort him to his quarters where he will remain for the duration of this...situation or until he sobers up. Whichever comes first." the Galaxy's commanding officer ordered.

The Amish officer lumbered closer to the drunken man.

"Brother Thomas, allow me to escort thee back to thy quarters."

Thomas nodded.

"Certainly simpleton. The cockroaches are scurrying as I shine the light of truth at them, fearful of what I might expose. There is no point sitting here watching everyone wringing their hands and chanting "woe is me"." he said and suddenly sprang up and snaked an arm around Wikkin's neck while locking his legs around the big man's waist.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THIS ONE, EH? DIDN'T SEE THIS ONE COMING?!?! YOU GOONS NEVER DO! " he screamed while the Amish security officer stifled a yawn with the back of his hand.

"Chris, Stop!" Karen Dallas called out, maneuvering her hover chair closer to the hostage and his attacker.

"Don't roll any closer, Buttercup! I'll snap this mans neck like it was a stack of latinum! Someone better call up the farm and tell Ellie May that her baby boy won't be home to break bread with Pa tonight! I mean it!"

The Bajoran Captain locked gazes with Zeke. "Easy, Ensign."

Wikkins smiled broadly.

"Shall I escort Brother Thomas to his quarter's now, Brother Elithian? Father M'Kantu?" the officer asked moving towards the door.

Thomas thrashed furiously - squeezing the man's large neck with all of his might.

"Better hold on a moment." Jii said, his security roots showing. Wikkins shrugged and walked over to the nearest chair and sat down with the drunk Commander still clinging to his back.

"Commander Thomas, you will release that man at once or I will have you court marshaled immediately and thrown in the brig!" M'Kantu said.

The drunken XO squeezed even tighter and thrashed around more wildly as Wikkins scratched his cheek and examined calloused hands while he waited patiently for his next orders.

"Feels like a John Woo movie now, doesn't it? I'm waiting for doves to flap past us! Now I want...I want..." Thomas said, his eyes crossing slightly, "I wanna throw.."

BBBLLLLUUUURRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHAAAAAAAA!!!!!!

In seconds, vomit had shot across the back of Zeke's head and neck, while Chris Thomas fell unconscious on the floor.

Counselor Dallas looked mortified. Others stifled laughs.

The dark skinned captain handed Wikkins a nearby towel.

"Are you OK, Ensign Wikkins?" he asked.

"Oh, Father M'Kantu. I have lived through far worse in my day. For once I was trapped for 40 days and 40 nights in an outhouse. Now that was some cause for prayer. This.." he said wiping his neck, "this is as the popular verse aboard the ship states: No Fretting with your mate."

A couple giggles spattered the room.

"You mean: no worries, mate!"

"Ole!"

Cmdr. Arel Smith

w/ lotsa excerpts from Mexican Standoff...on Breen!

*****

Guest Wing, Breen

"HEE HEE HEE! Now this...THIS is what I miss the most!"

Arel Smith resisted the temptation to roll her eyes at the man. While she had once felt some sympathy for the man, being shipped to Breen was not *her* idea of a fun time, Arel was now feeling her irritation level rising. She wanted to tell the man to suck it up and shut up. John Bhrode could have shipped him off to someplace worse; Arel was begining to wish that the old man had.

She watched as the Captain moved towards Ensign Wikkins. That one was a peculiar sort. Had called her Sister Smith, which had made Arel's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. She had been on the verge of calling up her father then and there to demand an explanation, how many children did the bastard have anyway, when someone had explained that it was some religious thing.

"At ease, Ensign. Perhaps the former First Officer of the USS Galaxy would care to elaborate on just what it is that he finds to be so amusing. That is if his mind is not too clouded with cheap liqueur to formulate a clear thought."

Thomas laughed again and Arel felt like leaping over the conference table and ripping out his vocal cords. Instead, she bit loudly into her apple and glared at the man. She hoped that Samantha Widdlestein was staying out of trouble up there. The last thing she needed to hear was that the girl had gone and gotten herself blown up, hanging out in the torpedo bay or some shit while gathering background information for one of her stupid romance novels.

"My dear Jii ... may I call you Jii? I must confess that I am not as accustomed to the ways of the Bajorans as I am to the Breen....

Talk, talk, talk, Arel thought with a groan. Did the man never shut up? Her fingers twitched around the apple, reminding herself that she needed to schedule an appointment soon with Mark. Anger management, what a complete waste of time.

"That's enough, Commander!" Captain M'Kantu said loudly via the viewscreen. Arel blinked. Obviously, she had just missed something. Both Captains looked pissed and several other officers were looking at each other. Only Victor Krieghoff seemed to be without reaction.

"OR WHAT?!?" Thomas yelled, banging his fists down on the table."This is still a free universe, or most of it is. Can I not still speak my mind? Will you have me exiled to the edge of the universe again?"

"If only." Arel muttered.

"Look around you and drink deep of the irony that you are here with me right now!" he said gesturing wildly.

While M'Kantu tried to discuss things diplomatically with Thomas, Arel looked at Jii and made a quick motion, indicating a phaser to the head or at least a knock out. The Captain smiled faintly but shook his head. Arel sighed.

"Did you just tell me to do it for STARFLEET? Captain you have balls as big as church bells!..."

Arel tried her best not to yawn while the man went through his little spiel, obviously much to his delight, and returned to her previous contemplation of the room, their guards, and the scenarios running in her head to take them all out. She wondered if Krieghoff was doing the same.

"Ensign Wikkins, would you be so kind as to place Commander Thomas under arrest." M'Kantu was saying. Thank the Gods, Arel thought as she reached for another apple. This man was fast approaching the level of annoyance held by James Mitchell, which was a great feat indeed.

She wondered how James was doing...

"Brother Thomas, allow me to escort thee back to thy quarters."

"Certainly simpleton. The cockroaches are scurrying as I shine the light of truth at them, fearful of what I might expose. There is no point sitting here watching everyone wringing their hands and chanting "woe is me"." he said and suddenly sprang up and snaked an arm around Wikkin's neck while locking his legs around the big man's waist.

Arel sprung out of her chair.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THIS ONE, EH? DIDN'T SEE THIS ONE COMING?!?! YOU GOONS NEVER DO! " he screamed while the Amish security officer stifled a yawn with the back of his hand.

"Chris, Stop!" Karen Dallas called out, maneuvering her hover chair closer to the hostage and his attacker.

"Don't roll any closer, Buttercup! I'll snap this mans neck like it was a stack of latinum! Someone better call up the farm and tell Ellie May that her baby boy won't be home to break bread with Pa tonight! I mean it!"

The Bajoran Captain locked gazes with Zeke. "Easy, Ensign."

Wikkins smiled broadly.

"Shall I escort Brother Thomas to his quarter's now, Brother Elaithian? Father M'Kantu?" the officer asked moving towards the door.

Arel slowly began to relax. If the the fool wasn't going to try anything now, he most likely wouldn't. She still stayed on alert.

"Better hold on a moment." The Captain told the Ensign. Wikkins shrugged and walked over to the nearest chair and sat down with the drunk Commander still clinging to his back.

The sight was somewhat amusing.

"Commander Thomas, you will release that man at once or I will have you court marshaled immediately and thrown in the brig!" M'Kantu yelled from the viewscreen.

The drunken XO squeezed even tighter and thrashed around more wildly as Wikkins scratched his cheek and examined calloused hands while he waited patiently for his next orders. Arel then did rolled her eyes as the man continued to bray at them.

"Feels like a John Woo movie now, doesn't it? I'm waiting for doves to flap past us! Now I want...I want..." Thomas said, his eyes crossing slightly, "I wanna throw.."

BBBLLLLUUUURRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHAAAAAAAA!!!!!!

In seconds, vomit had shot across the back of Zeke's head and neck, while Chris Thomas fell unconscious on the floor.

Counselor Dallas looked mortified. Others stifled laughs.

Arel felt slightly nauseous. She hadn't forgotten her few months of morning sickness every morning.

Someone handed Wikkins a nearby towel and they talked about his past in something called an out-house. Then there were giggles when he mispronounced a common Terran phrase.

Arel sat back down and tried to settle her stomach by sheer willpower.

"Bird's Eye View"

Captain Elaithin Jii

Elaithin had to roll his eyes as he turned his back on the gathered team, as Wikkins cleaned himself up and found somewhere to secure the drunkenly unruly Thomas. When the orbital attack had begun, Breen security had promptly escorted the Federationers back to their "compound."

Elaithin had complained, of course, requesting that he be allowed to assist their military with the defense. Perhaps not unexpectedly, they had declined. Jii wouldn't be real eager about inviting a representative of another power's military into his command center either.

They had, however, been gracious enough to provide a live sensor feed and an open comm to the bridges of the Miranda and the Galaxy. As such, the Captain had something of a "bird's eye" view of the entire battle. He was, for now, putting off all thoughts of even why the hell the T'Kith'Kin and the Hydrans were attacking the Breen homeworld, and trying to focus on the problem at hand.

The Hydran ships themselves, except for the largest, had been destroyed. Their fighter screen was currently protecting their Flagship, with the pilots of Vanguard Squadron and two Breen units trying to relieve them of that protection. The Galaxy had been working on those capital ships, M'Kantu's methodical nature becoming clear in the way he used his vessel's phaser cannon and a torpedoes to knock one Hydran vessel after another.

Captain Elaithin's own exec, though, Commander Brex, was following a different tactical approach. With the way the T'Kith'Kin shielded their vessels, micro-gravitic anomalies similar to black holes were generated by creatures genetically engineered to shield their vessels. High-power shots would be wasted - a series of low power shots had to pepper a T'Kith'Kin vessel, and essentially tire out the shield organisms.

Not an easy task. Brex, therefore, had decided to turn the Miranda simply into a whirling dervish of sorts. He'd flown her directly into the middle of the T'Kith'Kin formation, and was firing every weapon the ship had in every direction possible.

In short, both M'Kantu and Brex had things well under control. The battle was progressing, both ships had taken some lumps, but not to bad. The support fire coming from the remaining Breen vessel, the one with Miranda's and Galaxy's people aboard, as well as their orbital stations was easing the stress on the two vessels.

And so Elaithin waited, and watched for any opportunity to be able to assist. But.. From here, there wasn't much he could do.

OOC: I was asked to write this by Robert and Pat. I hope it is consistent with what the Miranda has worked up for the T'Kith'Kin and with what the GMs had in mind, and that it doesn't tread on too many toes. - Lee (Editor's Note: Awesome work. Whatever toes were stepped on can deal and learn to live with it)

"Orbital Ambush" - Part 3

T'Kith'Kin fighters swarmed around the Miranda, peppering the battleship's shields with their plasma fire. The ship's phaser banks, though recently upgraded, struggled to track the rapid vectors of the insect-like craft. The Miranda's own fighter squadron was buzzing around the mothership, with an occaisonal flight peeling off to launch a blistering but brief assault on the T'Kith'Kin hive vessel.

Overhead, USS Galaxy lumbered into the fray, the vast flagship casting a shadow over the proceedings, its curved-angle lines looking all the more outdated against the sleek USS Miranda. Its powerful but crude phaser cannon blasted out across the battlefield, catching two T'Kith'Kin fighters, which were incinerated like moths flying into a flame.

****

Bridge
USS Galaxy-A

****

"Status of the Hydran vessels?" M'Kantu demanded.

"The third ship's warp core is about to breach: it will be destroyed," reported Lieutenant Nong from the Tactical arch.

"The lead vessel's power signature is stabilising," tr'Khellian's voice snapped over the comm. "Keep an eye on it: we don't want it coming at our rear. Likewise, the second cruiser."

"Acknowledged."

"Analysis of the T'Kith'Kin, Sub-Commander," Commander Henderson demanded.

"Their ships are literally alive," the Romulan reported. "They appear to be genetically-engineered lifeforms bent on destruction, and their attack patterns suggest that self-preservation is low on their agenda. Their weapons are charged plasma, of a like I've not seen. The Miranda's shields are holding but they are being badly drained."

"Do they have shielding?"

"Not as we understand it."

There was a pause. On the screen, the glaring light of the phaser cannon spat out from beneath the saucer section again, accompanied by a spread of photos from Nong, which slammed explosively into a Hydran heavy fighter.

"They are surrounded by some sort of gravitic anomaly. Concentrated phaser blasts are having little effect unless from the cannon, which is too slow to track them accurately. I suggest using the fighters' microtorpedoes to pierce their defences in multiple spots, then allowing Miranda to pick them off using heavier weapons."

The Galaxy shuddered suddenly, and M'Kantu stumbled slightly.

"Direct hit from the lead T'Kith'Kin vessel," Nong reported. "Shields down to 78 per cent."

"Do it," M'Kantu ordered.

****

Vanguard 12 sped through space, its pilot visored and suited, looking as mechanical as his craft. Banking swiftly sidewards to avoid a blazing cloud of bioplasma, the fighter dipped beneath the strange alien vessel, checking his nine to see his wingman was still with him. Pulling up sharply, Vanguard 12 executed a pitch-perfect looping manoeuvre, firing a quick burst of micro-torpedoes from its aft launcher on the upward swoop as his wingman cut across and strafed the insectoid hostile, his wing scorched by plasma fire, but emerging intact. 12 banked down again with a force that made the inertial dampners howl with protest, spewing a fresh volley of photons into the gaping maw of the opposing vessel. The T'Kith'Kin fighter writhed as if in exquisite agony, but Vanguard 12's pilot had little time to contemplate whether it could indeed feel pain, as a phaser blast lanced out from the dorsal phaser bank of USS Miranda, piercing the weakened creature's defences, and leaving it for dead.

Vanguard 12 swept on.

****

From afar, the scene above the inhospitable tundra of Breen was like a vision of the Inferno. Scorching plasma streaked across the orbital skies, ships blossomed into silent but shattering explosions: the space above this frozen orb was aflame.

Brilliantly white amidst a sea of blue-green and disturbingly organic shades, the Miranda twisted majestically through the storm, phasers lancing out with startling precision to support the fighter wings of both Federation vessels. Her shields glowed an angry blue, a sure sign that they had begun to weaken: but, though wounded, she was far from daunted.

Commander Brex, commanding the Miranda in his Captain's stead, was not daunted, either: he had not built his personality around violence or grim determination, but nor did he shy from the conflict. Rallying the Rogues and the Vanguards to his side, he was leading the Miranda on a thundering charge to intercept a T'Kith'Kin battleship before it reached the Galaxy, itself grappling with the T'Kith'Kin hive, and struggling against its far more agile and alien opponent.

The Miranda leapt forwards, taking her prey by surprise by her rapid acceleration, her impulse engines pushed far beyond their recommended tolerance. Pushing upwards, fighters streaking ahead and already scoring hits against the gravitic anomalies that protected the organic ship. Turning swiftly, the Federation vessel's phasers arced out from four separate phaser banks, all scorching the surface of the T'Kith'Kin ship, as the Vanguards and Rogues swarmed the huge vessel like angry wasps, picking away at its defences and stretching its defences to breaking point. Realising only too late that the Miranda had learned well from its previous encounters with them, the T'Kith'Kin attempted to pull out of their attack run and retreat to the cover of their own fighter swarm. Pivoting gracefully and stalwartly ignoring the attentions of a T'Kith'Kin swarm which had hurried to the rescue of their larger colleague, the Miranda prepared its final run: a lethal strafing manoeuvre which unleashed her full firepower on the collapsing defences of the fleeing cruiser.

With an explosion that blasted aside any fighters left near the stricken cruiser, its skin was breached and a cascade effect ripped through the living vessel. The Miranda twisted away, its shields glowing a harried, depleted red, plasma trailing from a hull breach on its port side, burned and battered, but triumphant, glorious: the T'Kith'Kin cruiser went into its death throes over Breen.

****

At the edge of the battle, now isolated as the fighting wore on, the two surviving Hydran vessels stirred. The lead, a battleship, had managed to gets its engines back online, and was raring to go. Its escort was in bad shape, but was urged before it to get back into the fray.

The two Breen cruisers hovered at the edge of the tumult, occasionally stealing in for a quick snipe at the T'Kith'Kin, but largely fending off any stray Hydran fighters that wavered in their direction. They had positioned themselves defensively, between the main battle and their homeworld, and were avoiding direct engagement. Curiously, both the Hydrans and the T'Kith'Kin seemed to be avoiding them, too. It made tactical sense to take out the more powerful vessels first, as the weaker ones could do less damage over a set period of time, but this had not escaped the notice of at least one suspicious mind onboard the Federation flagship.

****

Bridge
USS Galaxy-A

****

"Captain, the two Hydran vessels are moving back into the battle," Nong reported urgently. "They're headed for the Breen." He didn't even lift his head, struggling to fend off the continued assault of the T'Kith'Kin hive vessel, which had already downed the flagship's aft shielding.

"Status of the Hydran vessels?"

Savar interjected. "The Breen stand no chance against the Hellbore cannon. They have taken heavy damage already and most of their fighters have been destroyed."

"Our people are still onboard," Henderson noted, grimly.

"Bring us about," M'Kantu commanded instantly. "Engage the weakest Hydran ship."

"The hive will attack our weakened aft sections!" tr'Khellian protested in amazement. "Abandon the Breen: we have to save ourselves!"

"You heard the Captain, Mister Nong," Henderson said, glaring at the hybrid at the Tactical arch. He was no admirer of the Breen, but he had a duty of care to those poor souls stranded on those vessels, and he wouldn't let them go down without a fight.

****

The Galaxy turned laboriously, saved from annihilation by the swift intervention of USS Miranda, but blasted now by the Hive as it moved to intercept the Breen.

A thick bolt of energy blasted out from the phaser cannon as she came about to face the revived Hydran assault: simultaneously, a fresh swarm of T'Kith'Kin fighters strafed the flagship's rear, and her shields failed. One of the shield generators on the stardrive section exploded, blowing out a section of decking and sucking two crewmembers into the hellish vaccuum of space before the emergency bulkheads could slam home.

A volley of quantum torpedoes rang out from the Galaxy's fore launchers, blistering pinpricks of light too bright to look at, following the trail of the phaser bolt. The weakened Hydran cruiser's shields were completely destroyed by the phaser shot: the torpedoes ripped its already damaged hull into tiny fragments in a blast that killed all of its crew and scattered their constituent molecules across the atmosphere of Breen.

The T'Kith'Kin Hive closed in, plasma already spewing from its vicious maw, but as it moved to execute a coup de grace that would have ruptured the Federation flagship's hull, it unexpectedly pulled out of its attack run and assumed a new vector, heading away from the battle.

*****

Bridge
USS Galaxy-A

*****

There was a stunned silence across the comm as the Hydran capital ship also turned tail. Having expected an attack that would have crippled the Galaxy and left her prone, Sub-Commander tr'Khellian was amazed at this turn of events.

"What's happening?" M'Kantu demanded.

"I'm reading subspace distortions about 300km aft," the officer stationed at Ops reported.

"They're retreating," Henderson concluded, hardly able to believe it himself.

"Status of the Miranda?" M'Kantu demanded.

"They've taken damage, but their shields are holding at 12 per cent."

"Pull back the fighters, Lieutenant," the African captain ordered, before being startled by a sudden shot from the phaser cannon, launched at the fleeing Hydran battleship. It connected ferociously and sent it shuddering briefly offcourse, but it limped onwards towards a gradual opening in the fabric of subspace, preceded by its insectoid allies. "No, Sub-Commander," M'Kantu ordered. His weary eyes bleakly surveyed the death and destruction their mystery assault had wrought. Neither the Miranda nor Galaxy were in a fit state to pursue.

"Let them go."

"It Isn't Over Til Its Over"

Lt (jg) Cora Dobryin
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Galaxy

T'Kith'Kin another word that made Cora's blood run cold. As if they didn't have enough to deal with minus that addition the entire equation. She had all of Galaxy's Intelligence staff pulling a lot of overtime. No stone would remain unturned on her watch.

Questions that didn't have answers would before Lt Dobryin and her team were finished with them. The key was to come up with options where none existed before. Since the start of the battle she'd been on the bridge. Able to quickly advise the Command staff when needed.

Hydrans and T'Kith'Kin were bad enough without the added equation of them both attacking the Breen homeworld. Ever so briefly it made Cora wonder why she got to be the lucky Intel officer to deal with this mess aside from Commander Jordan.

A sense of relief and trepidation filled Dobryin as she watched the scene unfold before her very eyes. Something about all of it just seemed off. It was her job to be suspicious. M'Kantu had ordered them to let the attacking ships go. While Cora followed orders and believed it was their only option, part of her had to wonder when or if the alien ships would return.

Meanwhile she relayed a message to her Intelligence staff. Next time Cora wanted alternatives. More than that she needed answers. Reminded of an old saying that stated 'they don't grow on trees'. It seemed far too appropriate just now.

'This is an intelligence nightmare.' Once again that same thought echoed in her mind. As usual it kept repeating itself each time more of their current situation revealed itself. She wasn't comfortable with personnel away from the protection of both Miranda and Galaxy. Presently their overall situation was far too unstable.

"An Offer You Can't Refuse"

Captain Johanna Schuyler,
Commanding Officer,
USS Eternal Dawn

Lieutenant Commander Rose Isis MacAllen,
Starfleet Scientific Corps Liaison,
USS Galaxy

*****

Lt. Commander MacAllen's Office,
Deck 11,
USS Galaxy

Rose Isis MacAllen was going over some reports before she could go and get her children from the ship's Day Care. It had been a busy day for the young Betazoid, with meetings with some other officers including little Karyn's teacher who praised the little girl for her intelligence.

It was at that moment that her terminal chimed, signaling an incoming transmission. The crest that was displayed was that of the 8th Fleet, a purely scientific fleet under Admiral Frances Maureen Neill. Underneath were the words USS ETERNAL DAWN NCC-7981.

"Computer, download message to my computer screen." she ordered while getting herself some hot Chinese Green Tea.

The image of a middle aged woman with a few streaks of grey starting to creep into her auburn hair appeared on the screen, sitting behind a desk and wearing a Starfleet uniform with captain's pips. "Lt. Commander MacAllen, I'm Captain Johanna Schuyler, commanding officer of the USS Eternal Dawn."

"I see, what can I do for you Captain Schuyler?" the young Betazoid questioned asking herself why this woman is calling her.

"To put it as succinctly as possible, join my command staff as executive officer," Captain Schuyler's image said, "But to elaborate to the point of actually making sense, my ex-oh, a Commander Saarin, has finally made his captain's pips and I need a qualified scientist to join me on the Eternal Dawn before the end of next week. We're setting out on a deep exploration run into Rihannsu space, now that they've opened their border."

"Why me, you know I have a life on the Galaxy?" Rose said, lying while taking an drink of her tea, but what was keeping the young woman here. James? No he made his choice...so what was keeping her on the ship?

"I understand, but this is quite an opportunity. So little is known about what's on the other side of Rihannsu space that it should be worthwhile to any inquiring mind," Schuyler pressed, "I understand that you have children. They'll be more than welcome. Unlike many of the new warships in the fleet, the Eternal Dawn is an Asimov-Class Science Vessel, and we're more than able to accomodate them."

"But why me? I mean what Admirals want to see me in command?"

"Admirals? Hah. It was hardly any Admiral's decision. I sent my list of choices for a replacement in to the Bureau of Personnel and Commodore Huntingdon sent me your name as the one most able to make the transfer within the time limit," Schuyler replied, "We'll be arriving at Starbase 212 in three days."

"I don't know if I'm ready for this ma'am..." Rose said, speechless about the whole thing.

"Well, if you'd like a few days to think it over, that's fine with me, 'Commander," the female captain said, "But I do need an answer by the time we enter dock on the Starbase."

"What will other people think? Sometimes I don't know what I'm doing with my career anymore." the young officer said while looking away a little thinking if this is a good idea or not.

"Well, it is a promotion, and I'm sure you'll gain your Commander pip within the next year, given the research we'll be directing as a command crew," Captain Schuyler said, shrugging, "I think they'll see it as a step in the right direction, especially if you're looking for command one day, as I believe your file indicates."

~Don't be an fool, Gods damn it take it!~ then with a smile, making up her mind, Rose Isis MacAllen looked back towards her new commanding officer, "Captain Schuyler, you have yourself a new XO."

"Thank you, and congratulations, 'Commander MacAllen," Johanna Schuyler said, "I'll have BUPERS transmit the final orders to your CO. Be onboard the Eternal Dawn at 0900, three days from now. We'll be in Docking Slip 17."

With a grin the young Betazoid replied to her new commanding officer, "I hope we will work well together."

"I do too," the other woman replied, pressing a button her console, "I'm sending you the files on the ship and her crew. Familiarize yourself with them. We'll be doing crew evaluations when you get here before we jump off for the border. Admiral Neill herself is going to do the final mission briefing on her flagship, the USS Alexandria."

"I'll see you in three days...Captain, be ready to see me and my children. Is there anything else?"

"Not at all. I'll let you get back to work," the captain saluted and turned off the transmission from her end.

Then Rose Isis MacAllen laughed for the first time in years. She was happy, though now the young Betazoid would have to go and say goodbye to her friends and her cousin Kay.

It was going to kill Kay to see Rose leave the Galaxy but this is her life now and there was nothing for the young woman here on this ship. It was time to move on with her life and this was the right step to do it in.

"Cynical, who me?"

Lt. Circidon Yehenik Yashanti
Security/Tactical
USS Miranda

With unauthorized use of Jaal and Brex, let me know if it isnt cool.

It was over. At least, for now. Her hands stopped dancing. Her mind stopped killing. They had won this battle.

Her hands ached, her eyes hurt. She had building headache from the blood chemicals that had rushed through her veins driving her like adreneline did for humans. She was breathing heavily.

Brex looked over to her and nodded. She had done good, she knew it. But for the love of all that was holy, she preffered security. This board, alien to her half an hour ago, was now firmly implanted in her subcontious. She laughed quietly, and smiled the tight smile of the winner.

“Whats so funny?” Jaal muttered next to her as he worked without looking up. Shields were still weak, so his job wasn’t finished yet.

“Just thinking that it usually right as soon as I memorize one of these panels, Starfleet changes the stupid layout.”

“Just like you” Jaal grunted. “Cynical, even in the face of total victory.”

“Yeah, well, your problem is that you havn’t given in to the fact the universe is out to get us.”

Jaal just muttered something she was too tired to catch at that comment.

The relief crew could not come quickly enough this time.

((OOC: Slowly but surely this post is getting written. I'm hoping to have Pt. 2 out sometime this coming week *crosses fingers* Hey Ian, I'm still writing for Jazz. See? *grin* - Laurel))

"Protective Custody - Pt. 1"

by
Major Wes Hammond
Rogue Squadron Commander

&
Flight Officer Jasmine Heloi
Vanguard Squadron XO

[Breen Ship]

It was a little like Starfire's Episode 69, she mused as she was 'directed' down the hallway by some rather brawny-seeming Breen. Heroine gets into bad guy's lair, bad guy's goons capture her, take her to prison, then bad guy kills her...Oh wait, that was the episode that Starfire died. (Ignoring the fact she was resurrected three scenes later by her sobbing 'sidekick' and alien protector) 'This is getting better and better,' she thought as the Breen suddenly split them up.

Tyten and Mnementh were directed one way, while she and Hammond were propelled further down the hall. All their protests were met with 'This is for your protection. There is a battle.' or variations of that sort. Jasmine Heloi was not a happy camper at all. She looked sideways at Wes and saw the furrowed brow that inevitably indicated that he was worried - much like she - and feeling particularly shackled.

Wes returned her glance, attempted to look confident, and knew he failed. You just couldn't reason with a being that didn't think like you. And if one thing could be said about the Breen, it was that they were totally alien. As Tyten, Mnementh, and Ramirez were directed away, at old principle of never splitting a team came to him, but there was nothing he could do.

Arriving at the Breen version of a detention block, he was struck immediately by the feeling that, if it was possible, this area of the ship was colder than the rest. He and Jazz were held in place for a moment while the leader of the Breen who had brought them down to the block chattered back and forth in it's own garbled language with the mountainous Breen who was guarding the cells.

Without warning, they were grabbed by the second Breen and propelled into a cell, whose doors immediately closed behind the exiting soldier.

"Hey Frozen-Brain! If the treaty goes down the head because of your stupidity, don't come whining to me!" Wes shouted, venting his frustration by pounding on the door. He soon thought better or it, as it was so cold that his hands almost stuck.

Jasmine placed a calming hand on Wes' shoulder, "Wes, it's not going to do any good. Not to mention that it might very well do some 'bad' by showing your frustration." *If anything,* she told him mentally, truly the first time she had ever done so, *it could very well cause them to harm our friends. For our own protection...yeah right.* Some of her own frustration colored her mental words.

The slight rocking of the ship beneath their feet told them even moreso than any sort of alert that could have been issued of the fire fight that was raging outside. A particularly violent tremor sent the Betazoid into Wes' arms and she smiled wryly at their predicament, *Any ideas of how to get the hell out of here? I'd prefer to be an escapee and free, rather than trapped in a cage personally.*

He returned her smile. It was all too cliche, but then, when was life on a starship not? ~Yeah, I'm not really buying it either. Other than a working knowledge of the Breen language, I'm not overly familiar with their technology. Do you see anything that looks like an air vent?~ he thought, hoping she could read as well as send, ~It stands to reasons that because we're in a section of the ship that is filled with atmosphere other than what they breath, there must be some method of ventilation that also used that kind of atmosphere. A waste of space if you ask me, but in this case, fortuitous.~

Jasmine chewed on her lower lip as she regarded their cell with a thoughtful expression. She chose to scan with her eyes rather than to crawl on the floor, searching under bunks - that she would save for later. Stepping out of Wes' arms, she replied, *It looks, and I repeat, looks like there's something up there.* She vaguely pointed in the proper direction, *It looks like a tight fit...* Heloi walked to a point where she was directly underneath it and her eyes narrowed slightly as she regarded the space. *She* would have a rough time getting through that hole, but Wes...she didn't know if he could make it. *This isn't going to be the point where you throw up some ridiculous cliche about the good of the many, fling me up there, and tell me to rescue everyone and leave you here - is it?*

"No, this would be the point where I fling you up there and tell you to find a way to let me out. Then WE rescue everyone else and find a way off this iceberg," Wes said, "Now, do you want a boost?"

"Yeah, somehow I doubt I can jump that," she eyed the vent as she attempted to mentally calculate the distance. It did, at least, suffice to realize that she, alone, could not reach it without a boost.

Wes knelt and interlaced his fingers together to provide a foothold for Jazz to step in, so he could lift her up to where she needed to be. The former actress was quite fit, it turned out, and thus considerably lighter than a lot of the equipment that he wound up hauling around in the fighter bay.

Before she clambered up into the hole, Wes looked up at her and thought, ~Be careful, okay? I want you back in one piece at the end of the day.~

*Promises, promises,* she laughed mentally, reserving her breath for the task of climbing into the vent. It took quite a bit of wiggling to get her torso through the vent hole, and she sincerely hoped that nothing would be coming through the vent or attacking her there. Her choices of movement were two - forward and back. Even that was asking for quite a bit. *Now I know what a torpedo feels like,* she grumbled to Wes as she forced herself inch by inch through the vent, *There's not a chance that you could fit in here, Wes. This is too...damned...tight.*

~No kidding,~ he thought, watching her wriggling around to get into the vent. It was up to Jasmine, for the time being. Wes hated being helpless, but at least he had a wingman (or in this case wingwoman) to back him up. That was a concept he could deal with.

It took her a good fifteen minutes to get to another vent hole and another fifteen to actually managed to brace herself enough to open the vent and pull herself through. The vent opened into a small room that was thankfully empty. That was doubly true due to the amount of time it actually took her to pull herself out of the vent. *I'm out,* she told Wes, thankful that even if her communicator didn't work, telepathy did.

~That's comforting. I thought for a moment that you might be stuck,~ Wes frowned, still sitting on the floor of the cell. He'd done a thorough search of the room, and there was nothing useful, so sitting and conserving strength seemed a good idea. ~So, does this telepathy have a range limit or anything?~

*There are Masters on Betazed that can be heard clear across the planet,* Jasmine responded as she stole a quick glance down the corridor to verify that no one was coming, *I'm a little rusty with my telepathy, for all that I've keep it under control. I've rarely had the occasion to use it since I've lived amongst so many humans.* Her mental voice hushed as she pressed her slender body behind a post as a duo of Breen marched past her. Using her mental link to Wes as a beacon, she returned some forty minutes later to the small cell. Thankfully, the means of opening the cell were as simple as pressing one's hand against a control pad. If it had been something else, she had no idea what she would have done. "Wallah," she announced as the doors slid apart to reveal Wes, "One rescue, check. I'm not sure, however, where the others..." The ship rocked rather violently as another impact occurred. "Are." she finished, looking dubiously at the decking beneath her feet. Judging by the pounding this ship was getting, she was skeptical of it's ability to survive anything worse.

"the one with the flashback"

Captain Elaithin Jii
Commander K. Jordan Elaithin

----------------------------------------------

Jordan sat on the bridge in the XO's chair, watching, listening to the roar of those around her, the blaring of the alerts, the chirping of the computer panels, the trembling and moaning of the ship itself. There was nothing like the moments after a battle, except perhaps, for the moments before. The energy was up, the anxiety at unreadable levels. She always felt useless in situations such as these because really, what could she do but state the obvious?

So she sat, staring at the damaged view screen that flickered an image of the Breen home world, and she thought, remembering the night before as though it was years earlier. Space, she believed, toyed with time; without the presence of an actual, fixed orbital rotation, there was no concept for it. It proved further time did not exist, she was sure, had once had an argument with a Vulcan along similar lines and was now finally seeing his side of things.

The night before their scheduled arrival at the Breen homeworld, her husband had been unable to sleep. Insomnia wasn't an altogether unknown thing to him, particularly when something big was waiting over the next computer-scheduled "sunrise". And therefore, it was not an unknown thing to her.

A treaty with the Breen... that was big. Bigger than him, certainly, bigger than this ship, it's crew, or the Galaxy's. It had ramifications for the entire quadrant. If it could be trusted, he was thinking to himself as he looked out the stars. They were the streaks of warp, but the small pinpricks of impulse. The Bajoran eye couldn't even tell they were moving at this speed. Though if he tilted his head ever so much from where it was resting on his forearm against the view port's frame, he could just see the edge of one of the Breen vessels escorting them.

Jordan half-slept in the bed, on the edge between consciousness and lackthereof. It was becoming irritating, really, the degree to which his ability (or inability) affected hers. She hadn't quite thought they'd been married long enough for it to make that big a difference.

She pulled herself out of the semi-stage and rolled onto her other side to look at him. "Thinking about the mission right now won't make it any more or less difficult tomorrow, you know that," she said. "You're not going to be able to figure out whether or not it's sincere until you're there, and maybe not even then, so go to sleep."

"You know, one of my Academy professors used to tell me 'Sleep is for the weak," he said with a half-smiled, and then turned his thoughts inward as he tried to mentally clarify something. "Or maybe it was one of my Resistance cell leaders."

"Maybe it was me during deadline, but honey, really... if you don't sleep, I won't either and I'm so tired."

"You could get something from Cat," he replied, lowering himself into the bed and slipping in between the soft folds of the sheets.

"So could you," she pointed out. "No, I want to take as few drugs as possible right now." A pause. "Tell me about the situation: What're you thinking?"

"Nothing new." he replied. "That's what's so damnably frustrating about it, I think."

"Yeah, well, what do you expect to happen? The Breen to throw up their hands and say oh never mind we were just joking with you?" She raised an eyebrow as she cocked her head to look up at him. "I have a feeling, that won't happen. And trust me. Intelligence can't tell you shit, so, we're going to have to be a little blinder than normal, which is... well, we have to deal with it. It's not worth being anxious about it all. Of course, you could put me on the away team. After all, I know what to look for... the little things. Tell-tale signs of things afoot..."

"We've been over this, Jordan. You'll be of more use on the ship. Plus, you're high-profile. Cantrell's not a known intel agent. You wouldn't be effective at all - they'd be watching everything you did, and probably a little upset at me for bringing a spy." he replied with a sigh and a roll of his eyes. Somehow he'd known this was going to come up.

"Blah blah blah. I trust Cantrell as far as I could throw him. And by that, I mean as far as I could throw him while in a coma. Me that is." She sighed. "Besides. I'm not a spy. I sit on the ship. I shuffle papers. Spies, they go on missions and do things dangerously, go deep undercover, I don't do that." But she'd averted her eyes as she said this, staring at her hand that had come to rest on his chest.

"Of course you don't." Jii said quietly. "You just leave the ship for a few weeks at a time, or maybe a month or two.. and attend "conferences". Right."

"They're... involved conferences," Jordan said. "I'm not a spy, Jii."

"Of course you're not."

"Spy is such an ugly word. Spy. Sp--- iiiieeeee..." She shuddered exaggeratedly. "You're the one who encouraged me to get involved in Intelligence. But anyway. The Breen would only know that I'm involved in Intel. They'd only see the paper pushing status. Trust me-- the Breen infiltrators are awful, just terrible and... I think it would show good faith. As much good faith as bringing a handicapped woman, a pregnant security chief and a little girl Daedryn." Jordan shook her head. "I'm your wife first."

"I've gotten enough grief brining one pregnant woman on this mission, Jordan. What do you think I'm going to get by brining a second? Particularly - and no offense intended - one who's not necessary."

She turned away from him. "Cantrell won't be able to give you anything, do you understand that? NOTHING. He's next to useless." She felt guilty for the venom in her voice, but dismissed it. "He does what you tell him because he has to. That doesn't mean he has my mind nor will he be able to be anything other than a creepy presence able to kill at your order. That's all he is. Not necessary. I bet you anything something will happen down there and you'll wish you'd brought me along. What the hell am I going to be doing on the ship, anyway? Baby sitting the Breen guests?" She scoffed.

"That sounds good, Jordan." he replied distantly, deciding that this conversation was pretty much just going nowhere. Without another word, he moved towards the closet, pulling out one of the more freshly-replicated uniforms.

She ignored him and pulled the blanket over her head as he left the bed, hating him for a while, though very aware that she would likely be regretting those feelings later. She felt tears stinging her eyes and hated him more as she closed them tight and tucked her knees up to her chest as she listened to him change. She wondered if he would even say good bye, or if he would just leave. If he just left, chances were she wouldn't see him again until after the mission and who the hell knew what would happen Down There. They were the Breen after all, they were capable of anything, and Jordan was frankly a member of the I-don't-believe-this-for-a-moment camp. Partly why she wanted to be there. Maybe she could keep something terrible from happening. Even she knew that was silly, but still... She wiped at the tears, annoyed and hurt and angry--more that she was crying than anything else.

"I'm going to get some work done. " he said, deciding he'd rather not argue. Leaning over the bed, he kissed her on the forehead. "I love you."

She caught his hand. "I love you too, I'm sorry, Jii, about... come on, work can wait, just don't leave, okay? Come back to bed."

"Look. I'd rather not fight. And you can't sleep if I'm here and not sleeping. So I can go just knock some paperwork out. It's no big thing, love."

"Yes it is. I'd rather not sleep than risk the last thing I see of you is your ass-- as nice as it is -- leaving out the door. Okay? Please, no paperwork." She was tugging his arm softly, trying to coax him back.

He gave a small chuckle then. "Alright. Nothing about the Breen then, or the away team."

"Okay," she said. "I promise...." A pause as she tried to think of something to say while he slipped off his shoes and lay beside her, holding her close. She closed her eyes a minute, the tightness in her throat still present. "Well, I have some good news... I haven't been sick in five hours."

She'd fallen asleep not long after.

He'd been gone when she woke, left a brief note on the table. He was already on the planet and she was, much to her distaste, already in charge of the Breen aboard. Served her right for falling asleep.

Hands over her stomach, she hoped that all was well on the planet, that she would be wrong, that no one had been or would be hurt down there.

She couldn't do this on her own.

"Gone South"

Captain Elaithin Jii

Thot Gor eyed the actions of the Governor as the battle in orbit came to an end. As planned, the T'Kith'Kin and Hydran flagships withdrew. The troublesome Federation vessels had retained relatively light damage, with only a few losses among their starfighter squadrons. An unmanned Breen cruiser had been sacrificed, as well as several unmanned Hydran and T'Kith'Kin vessels.

The mining system had been deployed. Everything was set. Here, at least, in the very heart of his power there was no further need for pretense. Drawing the disruptor at his side, the Supreme Commander of all Breen military forces aimed it at Governor Born's back, and fired.

The civilian never saw his end coming, and vanished in a quick flash.

He didn't even have time to scream, Gor lamented. It was pitiable - the Supreme Commander would have enjoyed that.

There was no reaction from anyone else in the room. Gor had long been acknowledged as the power "behind the throne" so to speak. That he would openly kill the Governor and supplant him one day hand long been speculated. It had only been a matter of time.

The temperature on the planet Breen wasn't then only thing that was cold.

"Secure the prisoners." he merely instructed to the Val at his left, who promptly signaled the pre-prepared team of soldiers.

-------------------------------------

When the communications feed to the Miranda and Galaxy's bridge was suddenly cut off, Captain Elaithin Jii felt his heart sank. He had hoped against hope that things down here wouldn't go down this way, but now, with such an obvious indicator, he knew what was next.

Judging by the looks on their faces, so did everyone else here.

"Looks like things just went south, folks." the Bajoran Captain muttered, tapping his commbadge. "Everyone get ready?"

"No offense, Captain," Legate Pryce-Randall responded immediately. "But we're unarmed, and in the center of Breen territory. What exactly do you expect us to do."

"We're not entirely unarmed." Jii replied. "Mister Cantrell?"

The cyborg nodded, and lifted up his pants leg, pressing a small button hidden under the skin. A panel popped out then, and he removed three small, type-one phasers. Jii looked around a moment, and took one for himself. "Give the others to Smith and Kreighoff." he ordered, knowing full well

Without a word, Cantrell did as instructed, though the Lieutenant begged him off . "I don't need one. Give it to Wikkins."

Cantrell looked to his captain for verification, and he nodded.

"Allright. Shinta, you stay out here with us, arm yourself from the first Breen we take down. In case we're not able to fend them off when they come, here's the plan..."

----------------------

It was barely two minutes later when they came. The Breen soldiers didn't bother to announce their presence, but simply came in firing, weapons on stun.

The Captain didn't even need to give an order to fire, as they took his lead. His first shot took down the first Breen through the door, Cantrell's and Smith's took the next two.

That was when the Breen started just beaming in, and things got.. .interesting.

"A Matter of Perspective"

Lt Commander T'Chani Darion
Hazard Team CO
USS Miranda

It really didn't take much for things to go from bad to worse from T'Chani's perspective. She opened a comm link to the Hazard team XO. "Darion to Shaw I need an update on the team's status as soon as you have it. When your finished with your report I want to discuss strategy with you."

At the moment she could think of several reasons to pull her hair out by its roots. This wasn't the first time she believed the away team compliment was lacking something important. But a fine line existed between trusting her Commanding Officer's judgement and intervining when the situation truly warranted.

T'Chani had been standing on Miranda's bridge watching the battle unfold. Unable to ignore that gut wrenching feeling that the retreating T'Kith'Kin and Hydran ships were only a beginning of something she wouldn't like at all.

Nervous habit or not she found herself pacing as she waiting for an answer from Pete Shaw. Her mind drifted back to the Hazard Team's interrupted training excercise. 'Next time is won't be an excercise' a quiet voice reminded T'Chani. That was another thing she found hard to ignore currently.

Already running through the various pros and cons of a range of actions when it came down to Miranda and Galaxy's next move. Bits and pieces of the mission briefing came to mind. All of that overshadowed by a serious lack of Intelligence. Data that T'Chani and her team would really need if things got ugly.

Lt Commander Darion had been in this line of work far too long to believe that one battle was it. No she knew all too well the tide had turned. For T'Chani that meant being prepared for anything. When it came down to it her job would be to provide viable options.

"Illumination"

Starring:
Captain Daren M'Kantu,
Commanding Officer,
USS Galaxy

Appearances by:
Commander Brex,
Executive Officer,
USS Miranda

Sub-Commander Savar tr'Khellian, (unauthorized)
Chief Tactical Officer,
USS Galaxy

Lt. Curtis Geluf, (unauthorized)
Chief operations Officer,
USS Galaxy

Commander Cassius Henderson, (unauthorized)
Executive Officer,
USS Galaxy

NPC's:
Thot Gor,
Breen Supreme Commander

Cameron Bartlett,
Flight Control Filler (all other pilots are out on squadron defense I'm assuming)

****

Deck 1
Main Bridge
USS Galaxy-A

****

Amidst the smoke and sparking control panels, a silence descended as the last of the phaser and fusion fire echoed away in the perceived distance. The viewscreen of the USS Galaxy flickered with residual static from overloaded circuits, struggling to regain any form of focus in order to gain a view of anything other than tactical displays. It had failed as the phaser cannon had taken the last of the reserve power in its futile attempt to land the fatal blow on the Hydran flagship as it scurried away in retreat.

"Damage report!" Captain M'Kantu croaked out the first of his orders, taking the opportunity as it arose of the dissipation of hostilities since ordering the release of the retreating forces. He stumbled to his seat, feeling a slight tilt to the deck plating beneath his feet as he knew the inertial dampeners had yet to come back online.

Sub-Commander tr'Khellian lithe fingers flew over darkened consoles slowly coming back to life. He seemed unperturbed of the battle damage that curtailed its black smoke away from him, oblivious to the carbon scored soot that marked his cheeks where others could not ignore themselves.

"Aft shields have failed... the Tactical Shuttle Bay on Deck 39 is venting to space... forceshields are in place. Vanguard Squadron will have to dock in the Main Shuttlebay on Deck 4 until repairs have been made. Hull breaches on Decks 22 through to 42. Fire teams have been dispatched." You didn't have to be Romulan to recognize the disdain in Savar's tone. M'Kantu chose to ignore the oncoming debate as he knew it would no doubt occur. There was a time and place for it, and now was not it.

"Casualty reports are tallying in." Curtis Geluf, his tonal acuity likely ringing with the horrific sounds of battle and injury, struggled to regain his post.

Daren absorbed all the notifications. Tr'Khellian making his ever so poignant remarks on battle tactics, Geluf with the figures, Engineering with estimates, Nong with tactical assessments from his station, medical swarming about the Bridge assisting the injured. So much violence. The unexpected turn of events of an opposing alliance to the Breen/Federation talks was not in the cards. Perhaps this was the reason the Federation had been called in?

[Captain M'Kantu, what is your status?] The scratched out voice of the Bolian Executive officer from the Miranda cut through the swath of sound, bringing Daren to a focal point at which to begin the next step amidst the confusion and chaos.

"Commander Brex, I'm glad to hear you are still operational. Miranda took quite the beating, from what I have been able to glean off sensors. As for Galaxy, she may be an older ship, but she's tough. She's got a fine crew. As I'm sure we both do." The emergency lights brightened up a bit more. Good. Power was returning, albeit slowly. He prayed silently to himself the T`Kith`Kin and Hydrans weren't preparing for a second wave. He could discern Henderson in the background coordinating Engineering and Operations efforts in restoring power to those areas that needed it the most. The continual use of the phaser cannon had noticeably drained the ships systems. Making up for lost time, he supposed, since this was only the second instance of using the offensive weapon while under his command.

["I have it on good authority that it takes more to put the Miranda in to drydock,"] the blue-skinned officer at the other end reported said half-heartedly. The Pathfinder-class starship had its own share of casualties from the battle but the time to review that would be at a later time - preferably once they were out of Breen space. ["Have you heard from the away team since the attack?"]

"I have not. The residual energies of the battlefield hostilities were interfering with ship to planet communications, so I have been told. We were unable to establish a connection without direct line of sight under tightbeam. Under the circumstances, it wasn't possible. Take Miranda down as close to their last known location as possible. We're unable to establish a sensor lock on the team nor are we getting a signal from their emergency transponders. Galaxy will be coming to the assistance of the lead Breen flagship. We're getting our crew off now. I suggest you do the same with the negotiation team in the event the T`Kith`Kin and Hydrans return to instead focus on the governmental compounds."

["Acknowledged Captain,"] Brex simply responded, no doubt already nodding to the helmsman on the Miranda to lay in those co-ordinates and prepare for the okay to engage. ["We'll report in once we have word. Brex out."]

"Captain, there's an incoming transmission from the planet's surface." Daren strode over to Geluf's post, assuming the data transmission had to be textual. "It's audio only, sir. It's the Breen." The Galaxy drifted ever closer to the venting Breen flagship, careful to avoid the plasma from it and other derelict vessels in orbit. "Mr. Bartlett, be sure to keep our aft away from the wreckage. No need to lose any repair crews to an accidental deflection or someone playing possum."

"Aye, sir."

"We are within transporter range of the Breen ship, Captain. Scanning for lifesigns." Savar, tight-lipped as usual, was ever the persevering type. To him, the slowly canting decisions of the Starfleet Captain must appear weak, without authority. Daren wasn't out to impress him on the merits of the Federation. The Sub-Commander was born a Romulan; he would die one as well. But not today.

"Put the transmission through, Mr. Geluf."

[Federation starships, you are hereby ordered to stand down. The battle is over.]

"This is Captain M'Kantu of the Federation starship Galaxy. The hostiles have retreated, but they are most likely to return. The battle is far from over."

[Captain M'Kantu, I am Thot Gor. Governor Born is no longer representing the Breen Confederacy. He placed too much belief in your treaty and abilities to protect us and has paid the price. You though, have failed in your promises. Therefore, we are dissolving the treaty as it stands and placing your diplomatic envoys under arrest as per your failure to maintain your... how do you humans put it? ... end of the bargain.]

"Your revolutionary situation is not our concern, Thot Gor. We were invited under the pretense of a formal request by your government-"

[Which you will continue to follow through on unlike the false promises of the past. We are only taking measures to assure our species survival in that you do not break this promise as well. Your crew shall be returned, once you have completed the task we require of you. If you do not comply, we shall terminate one of your crew ever hour until you do.]

"You cannot do that! Not all your government would concede to this barbaric act."

[I suppose you would be correct on that observation, Captain. If any were still alive.] The dread set in at once. Daren suddenly curled with concern as he remembered the crew on the Gravnor. He anxiously slid a finger along his throat to signify a cutting of the transmission. Geluf's fingers flew along the console, already thinking ahead with a burst of static to gain precious seconds as the Captain spun his head to the Romulan Tactical Officer at the arch.

"Beam them out!"

"I am having difficulty obtaining a lock, Captain. There is too much interference."

"GET THEM OUT NOW!"

Savar's forehead crinkled. Ahead, the Gravnor, having received its predetermined signal from the surface, instantly powered up. The two Breen cruisers that had accompanied the ships to Breen finally illuminated themselves as they came out of cloak. They fired on the Gravnor, instantly disintegrating it. Its debris rained down on the Galaxy's shields, lighting it up in a plethora of color. The unprotected port side was clipped, send deck sheeting curtailing into the darkness of space.

"Shields down to 43% and dropping!" Someone yelled out from behind as Daren's eyes were blinded by the close proximity flash. The shifting of shield overlap to allow the transport out of the crew through a gap in the deflectors was hopefully enough to get both the crew back and prevent more damage to the unprotected port side of the ship.

[That is for attempting to delay the inevitable, Captain.]

"Did you get them, Sub-Commander?" M'Kantu literally ran up the ramp to the Romulan's side, just as tr'Khellian slammed the palm of his hand on the console. The ship still shook with the impact of the remnants of Thot Pran's ship.

"I cannot confirm or deny it, Captain. The impact debris disrupted my console while they were in transit." The console remained dark. Nothing to let them know either way. They could have materialized out in space or off a deflector for all they knew.

"You would kill your own people for a revolution? It's more like a coup from this perspective." The realization that the Federation wasn't going to get out of this one with ease was tightening its noose on him.

[I will do what is necessary for my people to survive. Now, not a moment to waste. To prove my point, I shall terminate one of the hostages.]

"No, wait!"

But Gor didn't wait. The very identifiable whine of a disruptor blast echoed over the subspace wave, the shriek that followed barely lasting a moment. It sounded very humanoid, indeed.

"What is it you want us to do, Thot?" He couldn't afford to let the terrorist goad him into another mistake. His tone and pitch dropped, becoming monotonous and complacent.

[Quite simple, Captain. You and the Miranda are to locate the T`Kith`Kin and Hydran encampments and destroy them. You showed a sample of strength against the insectoids. More firepower than we've been able to muster under the oppression of your treaty.]

"How do we know you'll return our crew? You've already proven ruthless and untrustworthy."

[Why, you don't know, Captain. Now, you have 10 of your Terran minutes to break orbit and begin your search. If you have not left by then, we shall execute another of your crew. And another, and another. Now, honor your part of the treaty.]

"You mean the one you dissolved?"

[Does it matter now, Captain? Really? You have 8 minutes. Oh, before you depart... I would suggest you do not try to leave the system. We've activated the system perimeter defenses with fusion mines. Any attempt to leave will result in rather serious - if not fatal - damage to your ships. We'll know, and then terminate the rest of your landing party.]

"Cut the transmission, Mr. Geluf. Get me Commander Brex." M'Kantu wasn't in the mood for bantering.

[Backpost] - preceeds the arrival in Breen

"Bitter Memories"

Starring
Navarre Shinta
&
Cernu K'rn

Cernu had been making a steady inroad in the food Shinta had chosen, putting aside the things he didn't like and quickly, but politely, bolting the things he did like. Seaweed he definitely liked, most proteins he liked, fish he loved, sweets seemed to be ok but he wasn't satified with them and most starches made him ill. He liked natural grains though, like rice, barley, certain seeds and most of the fruits and vegetables. He'd had a bite of each, no more, to make his decisions based on taste and the way it sat in his "crop".

Wiping his fingers on a napkin and setting down the eating sticks his people had adopted like so many cultures around the Federation, he sighed and cocked his head, gazing at Shinta. "There is more that bothers you than the incidents with Innocente." It was a statement, an observation, not a question. He wasn't asking, he was telling her and telling her "fess up".

~'Not another one~ Shinta thought. It was something she r! eally didn't want to talk to him, because she still thought it was his fault; or more accurately Vr'lu's. "I'm OK." She didn't look at him.

~How evasive do you think you can be with me Shinta?~ he asked her telepathically. ~I helped you gain access to your slivers- what happened while I was unconscious that you're avoiding?~

Shinta sighed. "When you were unconscious Cat was raped by her mirror counterpart." She couldn't say more and swallowed against the horror.

~That is... 'regrettable'~ Cernu replied, blinking rapidly and flattening his crest completely. Even his coloring seemed to lose its luster from his reaction. ~I cannot imagine what that would be like. Qlrn do not have a similar concept. We do not commit crimes nor do we become insane. This cruelty is ... outside of our perspective~

Absentmindedly Shinta patted his feathers. "Don't think about it. It's not something I want you to learn, just forget it."

~Y! ou cannot prevent me from learning about it Shinta~ he replied earnestly ~I DID attend the Academy and I studied Federation Law and Starfleet Regulations in depth. I know the definition of each and every term~ He captured her hand, clasped it between his own and stared into her eyes ~It is just that I have never *known* anyone who has so been attacked. Other than- well, *you*~ He blinked again, a small river of moisture tracking down his fuzzy cheek. ~Your case was concensual, though there was a great deal of abuse- it was not the same,w- was it?~ He'd never stuttered telepathically before. Clearly he was disturbed.

"Consensual? You think I liked it?" She was trembling as well now trying to shut out the memories.

~'Consent' does not mean 'enjoy' Shinta~ he replied, realizing he'd made an error referencing it. The wounds were still raw; healing yes, but still very raw. ~You made the choice, for whatever reason, to allow those things to be done and to accept! what you felt was a 'duty' at the time. Cat didn't. And while similar, for the violence and violation and the perversion of what should have been a wonderful exchange between consenting beings, that difference is vital~ he continued to use telepathy- they were in the Cantina afterall.

"What Cenna did to me in that cellar..." she was fighting back the emotions again. "If you think that fell within the range of duty... I didn't allow that," she hissed.

~N- no Shinta, I was speaking of your time in the Resistance.. who is this Cenna and what did she do to you?~ Cernu was really becoming upset now, his crest flattening and shivering in distress, sensing the waves of revulsion and hate reaming off of his best human friend. He didn't, apparently, have all the facts. ~You have not told me of this...~

"Cenna was a Cardassian scientist who took an interest in me. She experimented on me for a while, and as she was also bisexual and raped me when she wa! s in the mood. Furthermore she implanted me with a symbiont she had developed. It controlled my emotions and made me more violent. She raped my body and my mind."

Cernu's crest rose dramatically, snapping to full threat display and he hissed, making a sound like a whole kettle of snakes. ~Does this being still live Shinta?~ His eyes had become tinged with yellow, which she knew from recently experience meant he was entering a level of agitation where reason had little place.

People in the immediate area of the Cantina looked over at him alarmed, seeing the monster under the pretty feathers, the raptor hidden under the bird.

It calmed Shinta down, "She's dead. Please, don't anger yourself over it. You are frightening people," she said gently.

~Perhaps if more people were frightened, they'd stop being atrocious to one another!~ he fumed, slowly setlling down, shivering his crest so the plumage lay correctly. ~I am not qualified to Heal you of this Shinta; you know this. But while it is part of the problem, I sense this is not the core of the issue. Cenna is dead but there is something that... "lingers"?~

Shinta paused for a long while. "Vr'lu let me see Cat's rape as if through Cat's eyes. I was feeling which she was feeling, and it was so similar to what Cenna did to me," she said softly.

"I am very sure he did not mean to harm you Shinta," Cernu offered sympathetically, covering her hand with his own soft clawed one. He cocked his head as if listening and nodded once, decisively. "He is most distressed Shinta. For us, we cannot forget. But for you, we can take that memory from your mind."

(OOC: Lt. Ariss and PO2 O'neil will be Mentioned, but they will have no dialouge. So that could be considered. It takes place after a new Tertiary bridge JP we currently have in progress.)

"Tactical Analysis"

Ens. Stel Jonran,
Sec/Tact Officer,
USS Miranda-B

Tertiary Bridge,
USS Miranda-B

The Battle came to a close. The Remaining T'Kith'Kin were in retreat, and the Hydrans Destroyed. On a whim, Stel conducted a scan. "That's odd. No bodies?" There didn't seem to be any organic matter other than that left by the T'Kith'Kin and Hydran vessels. But there wasn't any organic matter that matched that of the Actual Hydran or T'Kith'kin body.

This may very well have been a vital detail......but Stel merely dismissed it.

Petty Officer O'Neil scurried around, doing minor and vital repairs. Another spark of electricity shot out of the console, burning Stel's hand. A Medic in the area tended to Stel, and Lt. Ariss silently dismissed him, as the damage seemed to be worse than originaly thought.

Stel and the Medic left the Tertiary Bridge, while another Sec/Tac officer rushed to the tactical console.

The Medic was confused and a little intimidated by Stel's appearance. "Sir?"

Stel merely smiled. "I have come accustomed to that reaction. Trust me, my skin is not that much different than yours."

The medic repaired Stel's hand, and proceeded to Dermal Regeneration.

The Medic rushed off without a word.

-Well, looks like it's after the Battle. Now what.- Stel happened to have his PaDD with him.

*DOWNLOAD DATA: T'Kith'Kin. TACTICAL AND OTHERWISE. RESTRICT TO WITHIN MY SECURITY STATUS. ALPHA-JONRAN-ZULU.*

The padd Downloaded all data on all of the previous encounters with.

-Facisnating. Completely Alien. Unlike anything I've ever seen. Totally Organic, dispertion. I see now why the short bursts were neccesary. Pecking them apart. There must be more though. There must be. But a Lowly Ensign doesn't get much to work with.- Stel paused for a moment, clearing the screen of his PaDD of the data. -I do hope my people were warned of this threat.....knowing Kless Naval Tactics......-

Stel stood once again, and started walking back to the Tertiary bridge. -Might as well try to go back to work.-

"Sir? Do you might if I return to my post? My Hand is healed."

"A Little MacGyvering can go a Long Way"

by
Cmdr. Jerri Wolfson
Chief Engineer
USS Miranda

"Would someone shut that damned siren off?!" Jerri exclaimed for what seemed to be the billionth time in the past five minutes. If it wasn't the infernal alert siren driving her batty, it was the rocking of the ship as another blast hit home. The thrum of the mighty warp core was muted somehow during the thrill of the fight, and her own personal fight against the damage being dealt by their enemies. Every hit caused Jerri to wince and when no one was looking, she patted the console before her and soothed, "Don't worry. We'll get you fixed up and better than new."

Between the activity, the rocking, the siren's wails  which someone *finally* shut off before Jerri lost control of her temper and threw something at the offending device, and the flashing lights on the master situation display, the sudden *absence* of half that noise came as a sudden shock. Wolfson blinked in shock as no new flashing indicators appeared on the situation monitor and the near constant rocking smoothed to out to steadiness. A slight tilt to the floor indicated that the inertial dampeners were not compensating correctly, so she directed a team to address those as soon as possible. Without the dampeners at full strength, the Miranda would not be able to handle the stress of warp travel  or rather, the ship could, but her crew could not. She was half expecting some sort of announcement from Brex stating that the enemies were destroyed/surrendered, Jii was back on the ship, and the treaty was just someone's idea of a joke. They'd be going home, and she'd be sipping a latte with Jordan and laughing about the insanity of it all at their home starbase.

It was too bad that life never behaved like one hoped.

"Alright, people. We've got a hull breach on deck twenty. Power's out on decks ten through fifteen. Shields are down to twelve percent. The impulse engines are strained, and that's only the serious problems. Half of you split yourselves between the hulls. The rest, you're on engine watch. We need to keep the fires lit on our engines, campers, just in case. Now get to it," Jerri directed her team like a master composer, and kept her fingers crossed that in the end the ship would hold together. "Hear that baby?" she whispered to the ship, "Hold together."

Pulling out her swiss army knife, Jerri tackled the power relays. Thankfully some of the repairs that needed to be done were on this deck. Soon, however, the Chief engineer would need to venture out from Main Engineering onto the decks that required direct repairs. But for now, a little MacGyvering could (and would) go a long way.

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