"When the World Stopped Turning" - Pt II

by
Cmdr. Jerri Wolfson,
Commanding
Cmdr. K. Jordan Elaithin,
Executive Officer
Ensign Jenai Angelique,
Helm
Lt. (JG) Ariss Edon,
Tactical
Lt. Savel,
Engineering & Ops [ NPC, Played by Pat ]

-------

Tertiary Bridge
USS Miranda III

The ship shook again from the concentrated salvos of T'Kith'Kin bioplasmic weaponry degraded the shields. "Commander," Savel spoke. I am detecting an energy build up from the Hydran vessel. It corresponds to tactical data from our previous encounter concerning the "Hellbore" cannon."

"Jenai, evasive action! Ariss, fire at will." Jerri commanded as the ship twisted into an evasive maneuverer.

"Aye Sir. Still firing at will!" Ariss responded ~ One day someone will tell me just what that means. ~ He thought randomly. Tapping in a firing pattern, he let lose with a volley of fire that washed over three vessels simultaneously, and followed it up with a good measure of torpedoes. One of the T'Kith'Kin veered off, leaking fire and atmosphere, while a Hydran wobbled, but continued on it's course. ~ One down, and how many to go? ~ He thought. Targeting another, he let go with a barrage of phaser fire at a Hydran that was probably about to give them a very bad day.

Jennai nodded, slamming the ship sideways out of fire, stressing the inertial dampers as the ship did gut-wrenching turns that were definitely not in the standard flight book but more like an old-style fighter jet, "Aye aye, Commander. Hang on tight and kiss your bum goodbye."

Jerri eyed the battlefield as she attempted to determine what other course of action they could follow. Jenai's evasive maneuvers, while impressive, did not seem to deter the rather stubborn enemy ship. "Modulate the shield freq..." Before she could finish her thought, a massive blast erupted from the Hydran vessel, unerringly seeking out the evading starship.

The ship shook more than violently then, as Wolfson called out for a status report. Using his superior strength, the unflappable Vulcan had merely gripped the lamanium and duranium console to remain in place. "Hull breaches on Decks 46 through 53." The Vulcan replied unflappable. "Shields are down, the generators would appear to have been destroyed. Reading fluctuation in the engine core's containment field. All secondary systems offline decks 47-53. We have one phaser bank remaining operational, and one fore and one aft torpedo tube."

It did not escape the notice of anyone on the bridge that Savel did not mention casualties.

"Ariss make the best of the weaponry we have. Send out damage teams, Savel, and tell them to see if we can jury-rig a solution for the shields."

"Acknowledged." the Vulcan replied steadfastly. "The probability of bringing the shield back online, however is.. negligible." he finally added, recalling that humans were seldom interested in exact figures.

"Remaining Phaser bank at fifty percent sir, Auto loaders off line on aft tube. Manual loading in process." Ariss added to the damage report. Shutting out the bad news, he focused on his job, and took in only what he needed. There would be time to mourn later. Sending the few aft torpedoes he had loaded at the nearest Hydran, he tried to keep him honest long enough for Jennai to swing around so he could target another spread at it with the forward banks, focusing the last phaser bank, he simultaneously let loose at another T'Kith'Kin. Tapping the comm, Ariss hailed the torpedo control bay as an idea hit him, "Chief, get as many torpedoes as you can to the nearest transporter room. If the Shields are down, let's set the torpedoes for remote detonation and then beam them out," he explained quickly, "it'll be quicker than manually loading the aft tube. Move!" he snapped closing the line. 'Prophets be with us and guide us in this our time of peril' he prayed quietly, even as he launched more torpedoes.

A novel solution, Savel concluded, his estimation of the Bajoran officer's skills rising somewhat.

Jerri called up a read-out of the ship's status in a miniature echo of Main Engineering's status display. The streaks of red worried her, not to mention the shield situation. The deployed engineering teams reported that one of the shield generators was destroyed, the other was severely damaged but it could be repaired - in time. Time, however, was a luxury they did not have. Perhaps there might be a way to at least boost the power of the lone shield generator once her teams had patched it to the best of their ability. It might burn out faster, but it would, at least, function far better than the estimated 20% for thirty minutes. She could probably coax a 50% out of the generators for twenty minutes - provided they weren't hit again like that last blast.

Wolfson shook herself and relegated those thoughts to another portion of her mind. She needed to keep them together for as long as she could - the Federation depended on it.

"Commander," Savel's voice calmly called out once more. "Two additional Hyrdan vessels and one additional T'Kith'Kin bioship are closing on our position. Galaxy-Two has sustained significant damage with the loss of a nacelle, and multiple hull breaches. The Breen appeared momentarily to be entering the battle, but I have detected evidence of massive electromagnetic pulses on the surface of their homeworld. They now appear to be in disarray. I do not believe they pose a threat to us."

"Let's not look a gift horse in the mouth," Jerri said, turning back towards Ariss, "Target those Hydran vessels. I don't want to get hit by another of those blasts."

The Tactical officer nodded and what little weapons they had spouted fire against the other vessels. Jerri could only hope that her ship would hold together long enough to see the end of this mission...if the ship got hit again, she was going to have to try something. Even if it meant crawling into a jefferies tube and commanding by remote to do it.

"When the World Stopped Turning" - Pt. III aka "BOOM!"

by Cmdr. Jerri Wolfson, Commanding
Cmdr. K. Jordan Elaithin, Executive Officer

Mention of:

Lt. (JG) Ariss Edon, Tactical
Ensign Jenai Angelique, Helm

-----

Tertiary Hull
Bridge

Streaks of phaser fire, balls of photon torpedoes, and other weaponry streaked across the screen in a chaos of color and light. With each impact the ship rocked and more sirens went off as damage reports came in. Shields were at twenty percent thanks to the efforts of her engineering crew, weapons had already taken a major hit, and portions of the ship itself were venting to space. Jerri Wolfson gritted her teeth as she directed the ship on a strafing run against one of the larger T'Kith'Kin vessels. "Jordan, if we take another hit like that last one, I'm going to try re-routing power from up here. You'll need to keep an eye on things while I'm doing that. I need to keep us together physically, but you'll need to keep us together for the battle."

"How about we not take another hit like that?" Jordan questioned, smirking at her friend as she braced herself in the XO's chair. "'Lieutenant! Could you try not letting every thing hit us!?" She swiveled her head around toward the Bajoran tactical officer who looked more than a little frazzled, though his brow was creased in concentration. If he even heard her, he didn't acknowledge, not that she could particularly blame that. Another heavy blast rocked them and Jordan mentally cursed as she listened to the power manifolds groan with the impact. A panel to the side of the bridge exploded, as usual, and the waiting medics hurried to the side of the thrown officer. "Go do you thing," Jordan said to her friend, sliding into the Captain's chair just as Jerri vacated it. She pulled the panel on the arm to the right angle. "Don't get yourself blown up and leave me in charge." She smiled at Jerri who was already equipping Vera. "And remember -- metal and electricity don't mix."

Jerri shot her a wry smile, "Yeah, sure, you betcha. Just keep us in one piece." The Chief Engineer hurried as best she could over the debris to crouch in front of the exploded panel. The explosion was from a massive power surge...and it had, in turn, fried several of the power relays. Even though she was technically in command, her engineering tricorder was still attached at her belt where she usually kept it. She pulled out the device, ignoring the shudders of the ship as blasts hit the shields. She needed to try to boost power to the shields - which were, from the helpful readout - down to 5%. 'Damnit,' she thought as she attempted to bridge the power between damaged relays. One bad hit, especially since she was playing with power, would be very bad for her. Jerri pulled out her swiss army knife and began her work. A bit of scrap metal courtesy of an earlier explosion served as a power bridge between the power that was normally routed to entertainment systems and routing power between the three hulls of the Miranda to the shields. Mentally crossing her fingers, Jerri attached the bridge... A heavy blast rocked the Miranda sending an unseen power surge through thousands of relays and connectors. Just as Jerri connected the bridge, the surge hit the circuitry she was working with.

A massive flash heralded yet another body flying across the tertiary hull's bridge. Only this time that body belonged to Commander Jerri Wolfson. She impacted against the railing, tearing a massive gash along the side of her face. Before unconsciousness claimed her, she spoke the words that had been in her mind when the surge went through her body, "Aw hell." A few seconds later, her mind guttered and winked out.

Jordan stood as Jerri's body went flying across the bridge. In the back of her mind she was aware that something else should be at the forefront: concern for her friend, a need for... something. But surprisingly, in that place, was a calm, cool collectedness that surprised even her. "Medics! Get her to sickbay immediately! Computer, Commander Jordan Elaithin -- kappa kappa 1-2 niner delta assuming command. Ariss, I want fire on those ships, NOW. Everything we can get."

"'Commander, power is failing, internal containment fields are fluctuating. Hull breaches on decks--"

"Damn the hull breaches!" Jordan said. "Engineering!" She looked at the pair of frightened cadets and the ensign. "Hold us together as best we can -- and no more mixing metal and electricity! Ensign Angelique -- I need you to do your fancy piloting now!" Another shake. "Shields down to three percent. Another hit like that and-"

"Thank you Lieutenant!" She watched the medics and Jerri disappear for a moment and one though entered Jordan's mind: "fuck," she whispered under her breath.

"I'm sorry, Commander?"

"Nothing. Hold your ground! Fire everything we have!"

"Commander!" Jordan whipped around.

"We have a part to do in this battle and we're going to do it, hull breaches or no hull breaches, the forcefields will hold." Another blast. "Now keep that from happening." That was when an entire fleet of sirens began to go off. "Shit. Report!"

"Commander, that last blast destabilized the warp core. Warp core breach in--"

"Warp core breach in two minutes, thirty seconds," the computer intoned. Jordan felt her face go white. In charge all of three minutes and she'd blown up the ship. She sighed. "All hands, this is the... Captain." She looked at another officer for confirmation that was the correct title.

"Abandon ship! Immediately, all hands abandon ship."

Jii was going to kill her.

"Snoopy And The Red Baron" - Part 1

Major Wes 'Snoopy' Hammond,
Rogue Squadron CO/Rogue Leader

Flight Officer Pikarr 'Charlie Brown' Ekrayn,
Flight Officer/Rogue 2

with...
Ehdaq Var'dyrr 'The Red Baron',
R'Nor'Akk Triquadrant Lead

****

Rogue One,
Asteroid Field,
Havras System,
Breen Sector

Major Wes Hammond lead the squadron out from the hangar bay, two by two. Their fighters were an array of imagery, painted to reflect the personality, background, past, or ideology of ther person within. Hammond's own fighter was decorated with a stylized Phoenix, with the nose being the burning beak. Pikarr had painted hers in the traditional orange of the Bajoran Militia.

The normal exuberant chatter that typified Rogue Squadron seemed almost subdued today. Not even Rogue 6, Kehoe, had a witty remark to offer. Perhaps the thought of going in against 36+ full squadrons of Hydran and T'Kith'Kin fighters had been sobering for them.

It had been for Wes. Knowing that Jasmine Heloi was leading the Vanguards into battle was at once comforting and worrysome. A woman that he would be willing to lay down all other women for was not a common thing for him. In fact, he'd never met one before her. So knowing that she was out there was, while comforting when he thought about her demonstrated ability as a pilot, bothering him when he thought of the sheer numbers in the enemy force.

Leading the Rogues out in front of the Miranda's primary hull, Wes throttled down to wait for the larger ship. He watched as, in precision that he was proud of, the squadron formed up on him. He thumbed the comm as the first enemy fighters appeared on his short range sensors. "Rogue Squadron," he began.

"It has been my extreme pleasure to not only lead you, but serve with you, over the past months." He centered the targetting HUD over the lead group of Hydran fighters, who were flying too close in to allow for good evasive maneuvers. The asteroid field was hampering their abilities. Greens, he thought, sent in to soften us and distract us from the real fighters.

"In that time I have gotten to know you as a pilot, a person, and a friend. I am honored to call you my squadron." He flicked the system over to microtorpedoes, and set two of the warheads up for maximum dispersal, instead of a concentrated blast.

"We face today an enemy that outnumbers us by more than thirty times. But we have an advantage. We've trained in asteroid and debris fields recently. And we're in a target rich environment." The HUD flickered from green to yellow, as it began to acquire a lock.

"Take attacks of opportunity, and keep your eyes open. Use your training, and the knowledge that you defend all that we stand for here." The yellow lock began to flicker red. Solid.

"Some of us may not come back from this fight, but we will for all eternity, be Rogue Squadron. Make them remember that fact. On my mark, break and engage." The HUD flicked to solid red, and Hammond squeezed the trigger on his flight yoke once. "Firing Three."

A single microtorpedo slashed outward, barely missing an asteroid, to slam into the lead Hydran fighters, packed together in a squadron. It detonated in massive cloud of fire, throwing debris in every direction at the expense of intensity. The clustered group rapidly split up as Hydran fighters, delicate as any other starfighter, began to tear apart under the rain of debris.

"Break and engage! For the Federation and for squadmates past!" Hammond kicked his throttle forward and his Rogue IV jumped out in front of the squadron. Squeezing the trigger again, he launched a second torpedo, which slammed into the T'Kith'Kin fighter group that had been using the Hydran group as cover, tearing apart the lead craft. "Firing Three." The other T'Kith'Kin pilots reacted swiftly, and only one other was caught in the debris filled explosion.

Wes broke to the left, banking into the middle of chaos.

Pikarr Ekrayn followed him.

****

R'Nor'Akk,
T'Kith'Kin Elite Triquadrant,
Havras System

Var'dyrr watched the engagement begin with a sort of half interest that bordered on disdain. He'd gathered his elite triquadrant, as opposed to the green idiots he's used to test the resolve of the Federation pilots in their previous encounter. Now he would show why he had come on this misbegotten mission.

Extending his mental picture through the bioship, he found the location of Rogue Squadron's leader, and the fighters around him. To square off against the leader of what was known as a great Federation squadron, would be a challenge worthy of his skill, and a victory that would place him as the formost of T'Kith'Kin commanders.

Signaling the others, Var'dyrr placed his hand on the directional control globe and eased his custom biofighter forward and down into the fray, an extension of his will.

"Escape from Alcatraz..I mean, the Galaxy!"

With former Galaxy XO and current Ambassador to Breen: Commander Christopher Kell Thomas.

Also included are a handful of NPCs and Ensign Zeke Wikkins (Security).

(*Note: Some of you may find this to be a shitty post. Heh, heh.)

Previously: Zeke Wikkins and Ambassador Thomas, part of the away team stranded upon the icy planet Breen, hatched an escape with the rest of the team and were brought aboard the USS Miranda. The duo was then returned to the USS Galaxy where Ensign Wikkins resumed his security duties. Ambassador Thomas, however, found himself in a slightly different predicament.

Location: Brig, USS GALAXY
Time: Moments before the attack.

"GUARD!!!! AH...CHRIST, GUARD!!! SOMEBODY GET OVER HERE!!!! HELP!!!!" Commander Thomas bellowed, banging his cup against the force field holding him at bay.

The lumbering Amish officer rose from his desk with a smile and plodded over to the Ambassador's cell.

His face fell as his eyes focused on the scene in the holding tank. He paused a moment to cross himself. The latrine in the cell had apparently over flowed at the most inconvenient of times. Thomas was staggering around with his uniform around his ankles and human...waste splattered over his body, the floor, and the walls of the cell. A dark brown clump slid slowly down the force field wall, leaving a crackling trail behind it.

"Brother Thomas....thou has...thou has shat thyself!?!?!?!" Zeke said aghast.

The drunken cook in the cell across from him giggled. "That boy didn't shat himself. That boy done shit himself! I ain't seen a shit like that since the time I cooked that Bolian Gumbo!! Now that was some shit!"

Thomas hissed at the cook.

"DONALDSON, I COULD GIVE A SHIT WHAT TUMBLES OUT OF YOUR DRUNKEN YAP!!!"

The cook laughed again. "It looks like you already did. Commander, you have shit everywhere. It's like a buffet of shit! You even have a little on your cheek right there by your lips."

"ARGHHHHHHHHH!!! SHIT!!! DON'T JUST STAND THERE YOU LUMMOX!! DO SOMETHING!! GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!"Thomas screeched.

Zeke rushed to the desk and came back with a small hand towel.

"Thy could clean thyself with this." he said, offering the wash cloth.

"Ensign have you ever wiped your ass with a wash cloth? No? Do you know why? BECAUSE IT DOESN'T CLEAN SHIT!! YOU SHIT HEAD!!"

"With all respect, Brother Thomas, thou are the one with shit upon thy crown." Wikkins said matter of factly.

"GRRRRRRRR!!" Thomas said kicking his bunk and splattering feces against the wall.

Wikkins pondered the situation for a moment.

"I may have an idea. I could transport thee to the shower room of the gym. Thy could hose thyself down and then return here to a fresh cell. It is ..highly irregular and not listed in the policy manual, but I think I could make an exception." he said fastening a phaser to his side.

"BRILLIANT PLAN, SHIT FOR BRAINS"

Zeke cut the forcefield and cautiously looked at the Ambassador.

"Please do not make me chase thee."

"Maybe you didn't notice, but I am currently covered in shit so thoroughly that I cannot pull my uniform pants back up. Do you really think I would break out into a full sprint leaving little brown footprints every 6 inches on the lush carpet of this fine vessel?" Thomas asked sarcastically.

Wikkins shrugged and stood at the emergency transport console (bet ya didn't know we had one of those didja? Call it creative license.). He fumbled with the buttons and breathed a sigh of frustration.

"Here, let me show you how it's done." Thomas spat, reaching over and keying in the codes he remembered from his tour of duty on the Galaxy.

That familiar tingle took hold of the duo and in seconds they materialized...

....inside the Galaxy's whale tanks.

Wikkins, his immense lungs filled with water, flailed about wildly. The cunning Thomas had held his breath in anticipation and easily plucked the phaser from the drowning man. He kicked off of the bottom of the tank and broke the surface of the water. Taking a huge gulp of air he climbed out of the tank, pulled up his pants and staggered into the viewing lounge where he giggled watching Zeke clutch the side of an unexpecting whale.

He sniffed and scrunched his nose. He looked down at his body. While the water had rinsed the waste from his body, his boots were covered with thick brown whale dung.

"SHIT!" he yelled, kicking off his boots. He turned the phaser setting and fired at the thick glass window, then ran sealing the room behind him.

The cracks spread like a spiderweb before finally shattering and filling the viewing area with water. Wikkins bobbed like a buoy at the surface of the now less shallow water while the whales splashed around the room inspecting their new surroundings.

As he dashed barefoot down the hallway, through turbolifts and down more corridors he found himself able to feel the ship swaying beneath his feet. He paused for a moment.

"Defensive maneuvers" he muttered to nobody in particular. Then the ship began to rock as the red alert klaxons blared.

Suddenly the lights dimmed and the ship shook violently. Outside the viewports, the spacescape was lit with a blinding fury.

"Oh shit..the damn cannon actually works! I'll be damned! Now I owe that damned Lysander 200 strips of latinum!" he said as he rounded a hallway and crashed into a thin Latin human carrying a large sack.

The bag broke and the entire sticky content fell in the Commander's lap.

He sniffed the air with disgust.

"Manure. Shit."

The botanist was rambling in a language Thomas couldn't recall. He ignored him and picked himself up and resumed his race to the hanger bay where he found his prize. The means of his escape lay just in front of him.

The Captain's Yacht.

The windows were fogged up and the craft was rocking slightly, but he attributed that to the fluxating gravity generators on the ship that must be damaged in the firefight.

He keyed in the combination and was suprised to see that it had not been changed. He entered the ship and stopped dead in his tracks.

There before him was a small man with his leisure suit cast aside furiously copulating with a dark haired Bajoran nurse who was currently calling upon the prophets while the man's medallions swung with every thrust.

"LEO STREELY!!! YOU LITTLE SHIT!!"

Leo looked over his shoulder and grinned wildly. He looked back at his sweat covered companion.

"Hey babe! Its Commander Tom - Ass! The shit for brains who up and quit when Brhode was in the "Big Chair"! How they hangin, Tommy? You here to turn this into a real party? Babe, you think you could handle us both? The Big Hoss and Shit for Brains?"

The nymphett shook her head.

"He smells like poo."

Thomas grabbed Leo by the neck and shoved him and his companion out into the hanger bay and into a narrow tool locker.

"SHIT!! YOU CANT DO THIS!! THIS IS AGAINST THE LAWS OF THE GENEVA CONVENTION!! ITS TOO TIGHT IN HERE! IM GONNA..IM GONNA OOOH...OAHH!! OH SHIT!!! OH MAMMA!!!" Leo exclaimed as the locker began to shake.

Back aboard the yacht, Thomas fired up the engines, opened the hanger bay and waited until the shields flickered. He then punched the accelerator and arced smoothly out of the Galaxy and into space.

His daring escape complete.

Will this dastardly villain ever be brought to justice? Will Zeke be able to free himself from the whale tanks? Will Leo ever be able to top a sexual romp in a tool locker while the ship is in the middle of a firefight? More importantly, will Stash catch any shit for using the word shit or a related word 33 times in one post?

We'll see... ;)

"Detonation"
Crewman Unger "Un" M. Poortant

Crewman Poortant looked up sharply from his post in Engineering as he heard the sirens. The computer was reporting containment failure - there would be a warp core breach in two and a half minutes. Not a moment after that came the order to evacuate the tertiary hull from Commander Jordan. ["All hands, this is the... Captain. Abandon ship! Immediately, all hands abandon ship."]

He heard the pause in the Intelligence Officer's voice, and sincerely hoped that nothing terrible had befallen Commander Wolfson. The Chief Engineer was much loved by her staff - and Unger firmly believed they'd lost enough friends this day.

"Relgiez!" he called out to his Bolian compatriot, who was furiously working a console with Chief McBlades. The two were attempting, in concert with two Lieutenants on the other side of the pool table - to reinitialize the containment field. It was clear even to Poortant that their efforts would not be successful. "Chief, come on, we have to go."

"Kid's right. Get out of here." McBlades replied with a muttered Andorian curse and lowered the blast doors. "Listen up - everyone to the escape pods, now. You don't have time to get anything, just go!"

The next two minutes passed in a rush as Poortant and Relgiez ran pell-mell to the outer levels of the deck, where the escape pods were held. Crew members everywhere were rushing, and Unger was suddenly quite glad that those few civilians who had remained aboard were housed in the shelters on the Primary Hull. This was a semi-orderly evacuation, with Starfleet personnel who all knew what to do.

The human and the Bolian crammed into a six-man pod with the Chief and other members of the engineering staff, and with seconds to spare, the pod leapt away from the remains of the tertiary hull. Poortant furiously raised the small impulse engines on the pod to full power, moving it as quickly away from the explosion as he could.

Poortant involuntarily shielded his eyes when the explosion came. What had, moments before, been a third of the mighty starship named Miranda was now no more than debris and dust, drifting endlessly through space. The pair of T'Kith'Kin and Hydran ships that had dealt the portion of the ship designated 'Miranda-Three' it's deathblow, however, had hung too close over their kill, like the vultures that the young man fervently thought they were. He was therefore gratified by the idea that that they'd been destroyed in the tertiary-hull's detonation.

"Hope somebody can pick us up soon." his Bolian friend muttered, eyeing the nearby battle.

"Hope that our reinforcements get here, kid." the Chief practically growled. "Otherwise our chances aren't all that good. Impulse won't move us away form this battle fast enough. You'd also best hope that those enemy ships out there want prisoners, and don't decide to just start amusing themselves by picking off escape pods."

Poortant and Relgiez shared a fearful look, and the former visibly gulped.

"Game Plan"

USS Miranda Hazard Team
Lt. Commander T'Chani Darion, Hazard Team Leader
Ensign Jeremiah Leger, Hazard Team Member
Ensign Imanol Harinordoquy, Hazard Team Member
2nd Lieutenant Dana Collins, Hazard Team Member

USS Galaxy Hazard Team
Lt. Commander James Lionel Corgan, Hazard Team Leader
Lieutenant Claire Barnes, Hazard Team XO Lieutenant
JG Chase Remur, Hazard Team Computer Specialist
Lieutenant JG T'Lan, Hazard Team Member
Lieutenant JG Walter Marsh, Hazard Team Member
Ensign Greg Klein, Medic, Temporarily Assigned to Hazard Team
Attache' Nyssa Alverez, Hazard Team Member

****

Main Compartment,
USS Avalanche,
Havras System

The abomination loomed closer. Constructed into the side of an asteroid, the Hydran/T'Kith'Kin base was an organized chaos of organic purple T'Kith'Kin construction melded with the cold blue metal of the Hydran Sovereignty's make. The USS Avalanche moved in at half impulse, hiding behind the very iridium rich asteroids that thier enemies had used to conceal their base.

Chase Remur glanced out the viewport. The computer systems in there must be a nightmare, she thought, knowing that ultimately she would be the one having to access them to garner whatever information she could. It turned out that Miranda's team was more combat oriented, and didn't have anyone as experienced with computers as she was. The Type 3d rifle felt heavy in her hands. She liked the double gripped one because she had an easier time aiming it, and was less likely to drop it. She was still apprehensive. But that was normal. She finished her scans and stood up.

"Here's what I've got so far, sir," she said to Corgan, who was standing with Darion toward to fore of the runabout. "The complex lowers its shields every time it admits a ship for repairs. We seem to be in luck, as there's a Hydran Command Ship, quite possibly the one we engaged at Breen, waiting for processing. We should have a window of opportunity for transporter use in approximately fifteen minutes."

Jeremiah Leger finished checking his equipment for what seemed like the umpteenth time and then hefted his Phaser Rifle in his hands. He was more than ready for this. "So what's the orders sir? We all beaming in as one big happy family or are we to hit seperate locations all at once in solo actions?" Leger liked solo actions much better... more chance at honor and targets of oppertunity. He was itching for a fight.

Corgan interjected, "Scattering our team will cause some major troubles. No offense to my team, but you guys don't have the experience to fight alone yet. However, we have a large base and lots of objectives. Therefore, we will have to split up into teams. Considering the amount of objectives, teams of two should suffice. An experienced officer will team up with a new one. We'll be done quickly this way."

None of the other officers voiced their objectives, despite what Corgan perceived in himself as 'pushiness'. "Alright, here's how my team will split up." Corgan jumped into the task of organizing with a detatched, cool calm, "Attache Alvarez, you have the least experience in combat, but you have natural ability. You will team up with me."

"Aye Sir" Alvarez replied.

"Ensign Klein, I will place you with our XO, Lieutenant Barnes. You two are our specialists... your abilities should be able to compliment each other. Just be careful out there. Lieutenant, we'll need our medic protected. Err on the side of caution for this one."

"S..sir." Ensign Klein gave off a shaky salute. The middle aged medic didn't look very eager to go into action.

"Lieutenants T'lan and Marsh, you two have worked together frequently as members of my security detatchment. I will team the two of you together. Marsh, put your combat experience to good use. T'lan, we'll need your electronics and communications abilities."

Marsh looked back at his partner awkwardly, almost dreading the paring more than the covert mission itself. T'lan showed no outward emotion, but then again, made an obvious point of keeping her attention away from Marsh.

"As for Lieutenant Remur, she's the odd woman out, i'm afraid. However, the Miranda team is short a member. This would be a great opportunity to learn from a more experienced team, Remur. Are you up for it?"

"Just get me to the computer, 'Commander," Chase replied, a little offended. She was a specialist, at least as much so as Iniara, who she worked well with, and Barnes, whose destructive tendencies worried her. "Do that, and I can break their system over my knee and pull the data from it."

"Commander Darion, are you also ok with this?" Corgan cautiously asked the Miranda Hazard Team's leader.

"Certainly, 'Commander Corgan," T'Chani said,

"Alright." James clapped his hands together enthusiastically, "I have some experience with starship and station boardings from the war. However, this is one f**ked up space station, so we may have to wing it a bit. But... there are some certainties about designs, such as fuel consumption, weapons, communications and life support."

He continued, "Here is what I suggest. Marsh and T'lan, I don't see a better team to go out and sabotage the communications array of the station. If this place doesn't blow up, we'll have to make sure they do not let their fleets know what's wrong. Next... their power source. We'll need an engineering specialist to tell us what to hit there. Anyone?"

"Remur," Corgan, seeing the hurt Remur leaked out before, was not completely unempathetic. To salve the offence he caused, he went about to emphasize her importance, "Your assignment is the most important. Blowing up the spacestation is a good objective, but for possible long term planning we will need information. Go to their core and loot their data banks. Put an emphasis on fleet movements, information on their invasion force, and plans of attack. Everything else is a bonus, but we'll make the spooks at SFI real happy if we can get all of their info and technological information. Are to up for it?"

"Naturally," Chase replied. Despite being paired with the marine from Miranda, she would be in her element once they got to the main computer array. "Just don't bring the power down until I give the word."

Corgan nodded his approval and smiled. Remur's enthusiasm also perked his spirits. "Next we have weapons. There is their weapons array to facilitate our escape, in case the station doesn't blow up. Then, we'll need to hit their weapons stockpile to compliment their power source explosion."

"Lastly, do these creatures have a fuel supply?"

Leger had been scanning the station. "Ooooh yea..." he said. "Nice big jucy ones judging on the size of the fleet they're supproting and how many berths that thing has." He pulled up an outline of the station. "I'd wager they're near the main core if not a few decks below."

"Then we need to find the gas tanks and blow them up. Who is up for that task?"

"I'll take them sir." Leger said. "The bigger the bang the better in my opinion." He brought out a couple of black cylinders that he always kept in his backpack and kissed one of them as he smiled broadly. "Special homemade recipe. Handed down in my family through the generations."

Corgan blinked, and asked, "What the f**k is that? Is it safe?"

"Don't criticize the cuisine before it is served sir." Leger said politely. "Get me and these babies within sight of of something explosive and/or volitile; pack yer bags boys and girls, mission's over and the target is nothing but space dust."

"And that mixture, is there any limitations to its use?" Corgan questioned.

"They'll work on anything from a simple power converter to a warp core. They haven't failed me yet. We just need to make sure that everyone else is on the way out though." Leger explained.

"Alright, explosives are not a problem. The rest of the teams will be backup. We'll need teams to watch our backs while they lay the explosives. That will be... the rest of us. All I can ask of the rest of us is to stay frosty, and be very cautious. This is a covert ops mission, not a run and gun. Got it?"

"So much for the fun approach..." Leger said with a grin as he put his helmet in his backpack along with his family's 'Secret Recipe'

He watched carefully every member on the Avalanche. Though Corgan lacked confidence in his ability to read and judge others, he could see that all were ready, though still under the effects of pre-mission jitters. He worried most for Ensign Klein, the only non hazard team member. The inexperienced medic was a recent and hasty addition, and not a volunteer like the rest. His emotional state was most tenuous, but he would have to do for the task.

"I was thinking that we all beam in seprately sir." Leger commented. "We all have explosives of one type or another besides..." he looked back at all of his Hazard Teammates, "All of us by ourselves are practically a one man army."

Corgan nodded in agreeance, "Prudent measure. Wouldn't leave too much of a time gap though, or the Tr'Kith'Kin and Hydrans might see a pattern. We must leave as soon as possible. We won't have much time to do this mission." His stare shifted down to the floor, as if he was having difficulty facing up to his responsibilities with the Hazard Team.

Looking people in the eye and asking for their sacrifice was not easy for any leader. Moreso when James experienced firsthand the horrors of war. Many of his team were inexperienced. Only one was a veteran of the wars besides himself.

They weren't even trained, just a few days since they qualified to join the Hazard Team.

And now they were asked to perform that role, with no experience, and only raw talent, wit, and one soldier who's experience was vast in battle, yet his leadership skills in squad based tactics were far from tried and true.

What weight each decision held!

"Let's do this." Corgan solemnly grumbled, forgoing the sobering speech.

OOC: This is a backlog to the Beginning of T'Kith'kin boarding operations.

"....before the Storm."

by

Ens. Stel Ikmar Jonran,
Sec/Tac officer

Maybe a Brikar will show up.

Location: Deck 10, near Sick Bay

Then the shakes came. ~Blasted T'Kith'kin!~

All Stel could do was hold his position. He had no knowledge of what was going on, other than the fact that the ship was under fire.

The assistant cheif rang up on his commbadge. "Deck 5?" He didn't even bother send back an acknowledgement. Thankfully the nearest turbolift was a mere 4 meters away. It was offline. Using the emergency pneumatic door release, Stel discovered that the turbolifted was 3 decks below. Lightneing quick, he jumped onto the latter and bolted up 5 decks on the ladder in a matter of minutes. Section 10 was close to that particular turbolift, and it was obvious. The initial T'Kith'kin boarding part had already made it this far.

One of them took a shot that nearly missed Stel's head, hitting the wall behind him, and singing his hair. "Bloody hell." He stood still, stunned with fear, for several seconds. The 3 insectoids began firing as they charged. Stel dodged several shots and rolled to his right firing several times. One of them fell forward, the second had taken a single hit, to the shoulder. The compression rifle bolt had shattered his carapace on his right should. His weapon was in his left hand.

He fired a couple times, before neeling down. The third continued to charge, and a single followup shot from Stel aiming down the sight shattered the insectoid's head. The Injured T'Kith'kin was brought down by a fellow security officer, an enlisted mand from what stel could tell from the embroidered tag on the neck of his shirt.

"We're alright here Sir, You should be able to return to your previous assignment."

"My regards, crewman." Stel quickly saluted, and jumped back onto the ladder in the damaged turbolift, sliding back down five decks. The T'Kith'kin were still beaming in. Sheild must have still been down. A group of about 4 insectoids were waiting in the hall outside the turbolift. They swarmed Stel, has he fired his right off several times, taking a couple down.\. The T'kith'kin we're using their hooked claw weapons. Several swipes left Stel with several open wounds. When he had a spare moment, he smacked one of his assailants with the butt of his rifle before drawing his saber. The greenish-yellow blood ooze out of the stab wound, as the stunned insectoids reeled at the sudden change as Stel quickly pulled it out. They attacked again, and Stel fired again, making it Mono a mono.

It seemed to be a miracle how long Stel had managed to last. The Ship suddenly rocked, and the deck shuddered heavily. Stel lost his balance and fell on his back. The Bugs, managed to stand upright, weapons aimed. One of them spoke. "Witness your demise."

Stel defiantly mocked. "What? Are you some sort of bloody fictional animated character?"

At that moment, the rumbling stopped. Stel smirked defiatnly, as Nak suddenly slammed his fists into the insects, shattering their carapaces and sending them flying over Stel, and down the hall.

Stel wasn't totally sure what to think of Nak, but the Uniform was enough to tell him that he had an ally. Nak looked at the kless with caution. But now was not the time for his natural distrust. He reached out with his massive hand and helped Stel to his feet.

"Have we met my large friend?"

"No. Nothing other than a passing in security."

Suddenly a single bolt of energy hit Nak in the back. Stel finally showed some surprise as Nak merely brushed it off and turned to face the bug that shot at him. He raised the tiny phaser he had, and managed to fire it, making a direct kill shot, vaporizing the insectoid.

"I suppose we'd better get back to work." the brikar softly said.

"Are you alright?"

"Yea, I'm fine."

[Backpost]

"Another Session" by

Cmdr Navarre Shinta CCO
&
Cmdr Rayna O'Grady, AS/TO

Shinta looked at her watch, almost time for Rayna's session, if she showed up that was. Somehow Shinta wasn't certain. She was sure however that if she did show up it would not be an easy session.

Rayna reluctantly went to see Shinta. At first, she wasn't real happy with Shinta's little baby-sitting idea but after Jaxom came, she was slowly changing her mind...well, as long as they didn't blab about things happening in her quarters.

"Come in." Shinta said then prepared herself for an avalanche of anger.

Rayna walked in and sat down. There was an eerie calm about her and she looked tired too. She hadn't slept or eaten much and it showed, "Well, I'm here. What now?"

"Therapy. How are you coping, are you ready to kill me yet?" She leaned back in her chair.

"Actually, it worked out better than I thought. I guess it isn't too bad to be baby-sat. Of course, I still think this whole thing is unnecessary. I didn't sleep walk so I guess your worries were all for nothing."

Shinta blinked, had she guessed wrong. Besides really being worried, the baby-sitting idea had been an attempt to get some fire back into Rayna. And had she seen that, Shinta had been fully prepared to cut back on it.

"You...you don't mind?" She looked worried.

"I minded at first but after he got there and we had a chance to talk, I know that they aren't there to spy for you but look after my best interest." Rayna thought that she was smart. Maybe if she told Shinta what she wanted to hear, she'd lay off her and forget this stupid idea. Rayna had her own way of dealing with her sleep walking problem.

"Why are you being so reasonable?" Shinta asked bluntly.

"What do you mean? I would think that this is what you wanted." Annoyed, "I don't get you. One minute, you are mad at me for being argumentative, now you are mad at me because I'm not. Make up your mind." She gets up, "When you decide, let me know." She starts for the door.

"Rayna please come back and sit down!" Shinta didn't raise her voice yet there was authority in there. "that night you were ready to do anything I wanted, you were not the Rayna I like so much, the one who bitches at everything, you were like a drowned kitten who had given up the fight. And I was afraid you would do something stupid to yourself. That was one of the reasons I asked the baby-sitters, the other reason was I hoped it would annoy you so much that would start to fight again. At first I thought I was succeeding, see you hear sitting very placid and happy with the baby-sitters makes me think I failed." She said honestly.

She stopped and turned, "I never lost my fight. I just don't live in a dream world like everyone else does. I deal in reality and reality is that he is never coming back. As for annoying me? You succeeded in doing that."
"Say he is not coming back, what then?" Shinta did not start a discussion with her about losing fight.

Rayna shrugged, "I don't really know. I guess eventually, I'm going have to learn to live without him." Unconsciously, she walked back over to Shinta and sat on the edge of the chair, "It'll be hard. It's hard now. I sit and gaze out at the stars and wonder where he is, what is he doing? Is he hurt? Is he even alive? And it eats me up inside." She took a breath, "Who knows? Maybe he left on his own. Maybe I drove him away. I can't take the not knowing."

"Do you think he was the kind of man who would have left you and the children like that of his own free will?"

Rayna lowered her head, "You're right, he wouldn't. I am pulling straws here, trying to figure out who might have taken him but I can't think of who it might have been. I fear the worse."

"Yet there hasn't been a body yet. I know he might be dead and we might never find his body, yet there is also still grounds for hope. I don't know if that makes it easier for you."

"Actually, it makes it harder. I can't go on with my life until I know for sure. I'm not about to go on with my life and then he shows up one day only to expect me to act as if he never was gone. I couldn't go through that. I won't put the kids through that." She sighed, "So, it looks like I will be alone until either a body shows up or I die."

Shinta didn't go into the last remark. She knew that feelings could change over the years. "So what do you want to do? Do you want to stay searching, focusing on him instead of the children?" She asked is very neutral.

"I'm not searching for him anymore. As for the kids, they're fine. I'm taking care of them."

Shinta just looked at her. Gavin didn't tell her much, yet she could read between the lines.

"Don't look at me that way. They are perfectly fine. Nikki has been a rock in all of this mess. She's so grown up and smart."

"She's nine." Shinta said.

"And your point is?" She sighed, "I know she is nine. I haven't forgotten that but she has always been very independent. Gavin seems to me to be very independent himself. All I am saying is that she's been a lot of help through all this mess."

"I know. Yet it's tough on those children. They should be allowed to be kids, not taking care of their mothers. And on this I am just as guilty as you. Don't learn to depend too much on her, in the end it isn't right."

"Point taken." Rayna sat back down and fold her arms, "This whole situation is so hard for me. I don't know why I just can't seem to return to normal, whatever normal is."

"It will take time. Don't demand too much of yourself at once. Take it one step at a time, and understand that there are a lot of people out there who genuinely want to help you because they like you and your family.

She shrugged, "Well, I don't know about the liking me part. I think the right phrase is that they feel sorry for me."

"Feeling sorry is not enough to do what they are doing. Why is it so difficult for you to believe that people like you?"

"Part of it is Jii...Captain Elaithin. I always thought he liked me but as soon as the chips were down, he kicked me to the curb. Others seem to have an agenda and once they get what they want from me, they abandon me. I've lost a husband and yet, no one has said how sorry they are for my loss especially, the one I thought was a close friend. It would have meant a lot, even if he said something in an official manner because that is his job. At least it would have been something."

"I get the impression you're not talking about people, just this one person. Have you guys talked at all lately?"

"Yeah right. I think he's forgotten that I exist. I've been trying stay out of his way." Not that Rayna had made an effort to talk to him. It just wasn't going to happen.

"Maybe you should confront him instead...tell him how you feel."

Rayna actually looked white when she suggested it, "I can't do that. Besides, he is so busy these days and I'm sure he doesn't have the time to talk to me. No, I'm better off not saying anything to him. The farther I stay away from him, the better."

There was something else that Shinta may not know about. Rayna was afraid to see him too because of what happened with her and Jordan in ten forward getting drunk and the both of them getting thrown into the brig. No, it was best they stay away from each other unless she was on bridge duty with him.

"Really? While you keep thinking about it, you keep making a bigger. I will not force you into a decision, just think about it. Also, if you want me to stop the baby-sitting program, I am open to discussion."

Rayna shrugged, "I'll think about and let you know." Rayna wasn't sure how long she could keep herself awake. Eventually, sleep would win her over.

"So you want to keep the baby-sitters until then?" Shinta asked as a last question.

"For now...for the kid's sake."

"As you wish." Shinta said pleased with Rayna's decision. "Just make an appointment when you are ready to talk again." She finished with a smile.

"The Cost"

Lieutenant Commander Kedron Sylthan was a Selelvian, nearly five centuries old. Humans had a tendency to call his people Elves, for they closed resembled the elves of human legend in appearance and temperament. He'd served aboard the Miranda for nearly seven years, ever since the Nautilus had been destroyed.

A more than experienced pilot, he'd been content for some time to serve as Flight Deck Officer. It was an easy job, and the management of a shuttlebay offered something different for an officer with no interest in command.

As such, he'd been one of the first tapped when the Rogues needed relief pilots, and had gladly taken the controls of a Rogue-Class Starfighter, Mark IV.

None of that mattered a bit to his T'Kith'Kin opponent. The fighter's shields were down, and he was very nearly out of weapons. His only hope lay in some skillful flying, and an avoidance of his enemies' weapons.

Sylthan was only able to avoid them for so long, before finally fate caught up with him. Mercifully, he didn't see the shot that killed him and scattered his fighter into debris coming.

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

Chief Kabance's Security squad consisted of herself , two Lieutenants, an Ensign, and a Crewman. Lieutenants Minerva and Battle were longtime veterans of the Miranda's Security staff, while Ensign Catori was relatively new. Fek'Ihr was a Klingon - battle was a way of life for him.

They responded to an intruder alert in the Secondary hull, and were woefully unprepared for the number of invaders - or the savagery the insectiod foot soldiers displayed. Of Chief Kabance, there would not even be a body to send home to her family. The other four's remains would at least be presentable in a casket. Fek'Ihr fought the hardest aside from the chief, though he was still just as dead.

The boarders moved on.

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

Chief Liam Nye swore in frustration in the Tertiary Hull's final moments. Two Ensigns, a Bajoran named Lennox Enjy, and a human named Jake Alban, had been responsible for jury-rigging the final shield generator into working, such as it had. It hadn't been much, but it had bought that portion of the ship moments that it wouldn't have had otherwise.

He heard the evacuation order, but a section of corridor had collapsed, and he and the Ensigns were trying to frantically clear it so they could make it to the escape pods. With only a minute remaining, Lennox stopped, and called out to the Chief. "Chief, go! We're not going to be getting out of here!"

"Like hell." Nye replied, and tried even harder to move the section of bulkhead that was blocking the way.

He was still trying to when the Tertiary hull's warp core containment field fell, and then his efforts finally ceased.

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

Lieutenant Marie Levallois had been a relief pilot aboard the Miranda for nearly a year. Ensigns Theoren ha'Milton and J.D. MacKinnon had both been shuttle pilots for almost two. When the runabouts Trinity, Amite, and Kentucky had been combat equipped, the three flight control officers had volunteered to pilot them. Ensigns Youngman, Diaz, and Masterson had volunteered to serve as their gunners. The runabouts faired well against the T'Kith'Kin starfighters, their heavier shielding giving them a definite advantage.

All three runabouts fared rather well until a Hydran battle cruiser noted the toll they were taking on enemy fighters.

The three ships were debris shortly thereafter, the lives of six young Starfleet officers snuff out almost immediately.

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

Ensign Junichiro Yoshimitsu was one of the best computer technicians in Starfleet. He'd worked hard at the Academy to pick his assignment, and when he got to, he'd gone for one of the best - the Starship Miranda.

A front line, Pathfinder-Class starship, the Miranda promised adventure for a young Ensigns who's eyes saw only the possibility of being a hero. He was a good kid - smart, selfless, loyal - all the things Starfleet had taught him he should be.

So when there was a power surge in the computer core during the battle, one that knocked out the controls for the torpedo pod on the Primary hull, he quickly grabbed and antigrav sled and brought himself hovering over the several deck chasm of the ship's Main Computer. Quickly replacing isolinear data cards and bioneural gel-packs, he commended himself on his speed in response. The torpedo controls were back online.

Then the antigrav unit shorted out a result of a static discharge brought on by another power surge, and he fell four decks to the floor below.

He never felt it.

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

The science labs were not an area of the ship that Ensign Xander Lacerta ever expected to be invaded. Still, he and Ensign Neek Anacova had escorted their comrade, the Gorn science officer named Etharp, who insisted the lab had not been properly secured before the battle, and that all of their experiments were in jeopardy.

As such, the two had grudgingly accompanied their comrade, and Lacerta was even now twitchily fingering his phaser.

He never heard the T'Kith'Kin boarding party coming, and their she'ku, a long, three-pronged claw fastened to their forearms broke through his chest.

Anacova quickly reported the incursion to Security, and the young Vorna woman even got two shots off before she was eviscerated, pink skin and purple blood decorating the floor on her lab.

Having witnessed the attack on his friends, Etharp's mind snapped into a feral state, and the huge Gorn charged. Using his own claws, he tore apart one of the invaders, and did significant damage to a second before a bioplasmic blast evaporated his head.

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

Lieutenant Commander Heather Sanchez's team reported immediately to the incursion reported by Ensign Anacova. "Youngman, Saran. Stay out here." the latina officer ordered, seeing the bodies of the two officers in the hallway. "Mondar," she said to the large Brikar at her side. You're with me."

She saw Etharp's body as she entered, and grimaced. There was no one in here anymore, clearly, and she turned around...

Just in time to watch the two Ensigns at the door die. Bioplasmic shots left large smoking holes in the chests of both, and they fell to the deck with a sickly thud. She began to rush forward the massive arm of Mondar held her back. "No Commander. Allow me to go first. My hide can withstand their weaponry, I believe."

"Maybe it can, vato. You soften 'em up, and I'll take 'em out." she replied grimly.

Mondar didn't reply, he just moved forward inexorably.

There were four of them when they exited to the hallway. Two shot at Mondar, and he seemed to withstand the blasts. Almost casually, he grabbed the two closest, and crushed their heads in his massive hands.

He was swinging at the third when they leveled a series of blasts at him. He fell to the deck with a massive thud, even as Sanchez's shot took out one of his killers. The vibration from the heavy alien's fall forcer her to drop her phaser, but her sole remaining T'Kith'Kin opponent dropped his as well. The alien chittered incomprehensibly, and raised the cruel-looking arrangement of claws on his right forearms.

"All right, pendejo." she muttered. "Let's play."

The T'Kith'Kin swing wide overhead with his claw weapons, and Sanchez moved quickly, drawing the knife from her boot. Holding it point down, she swept up, opening the Insectoid' s thorax even as it's claws caught her own abdomen. In tandem, both sliced, and green T'Kith'Kin blood and red human blood began to mix on the floor. In an act of final desperation, Heather jammed the knife upwards, where it found the being's hearts.

When the T'Kith'Kin finally fell to the deck, Sanchez collapsed as well, trying desperately to hold her stomach together. She was barely able to call for an emergency transport to sickbay before passing out.

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

Doctor Love's holographic head snapped up as the Transporter room notified them of an incoming wounded officer. Doctor Jack Carter's jaw dropped when he saw the bloody form of Heather Sanchez materialize, and then the two doctors - one real, one not, did their best to save at least this one life.

"The one in the escape-pod"
Commander K Jordan Elaithin
Lieutenant Savel (NPC by Pat)

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

If she wanted a cigarette before, she needed one now. She'd waited about as long as she expected Jii would, until she was positive the very last person was on the escape pod.

She hadn't intended on the last person being the Vulcan Savel, the engineering and operations officer on the bridge. She had never particularly gotten along with Vulcans, she found them dull and uninteresting.

To say the least, he wasn't the person she wanted to be spending God knew how long in cramped quarters with.

Especially with her entire system still in whatever the hell kind of mode it was in.

"I blew up my husband's ship," she said, staring at the wall wide-eyed, hands clasped elbows on her knees.

"That is incorrect, Commander." Savel replied placidly. "The T'Kith'kin blew up one third of the vessel. Also, it does not belong to your husband, but is in fact property of Starfleet."

Jordan looked at the man. "Okay. You know what?" she said. "I know. That I didn't myself blow up the ship. But I could have done something better, different. The ship may not belong to my husband, but it is my husband's ship; it is something I could never expect you to understand."

Savel considered that a moment, and Jordan could practically see the Vulcan's logician mind thinking. She could almost here it. After a few seconds, he spoke again. "I fail to see how your relationship to the Captain relates to what transpired. I can see nothing that could have been done differently. By the time you assumed command, the damage was done.
There is a... high .. probability the tertiary hull would have still been destroyed had anyone else been in command."

"High probability but not a certainty," Jordan pointed out. "I should have been able to do something, change something, keep it from happening. The ship is like Jii's baby. He loves it more than anything, to him, it's more than a home, more than a method of travel, it's a part of... it's a part of him. There's an attachment. To have it destroyed is painful enough, to have it destroyed while in the charge of his wife? Someone who is supposed to protect his interests, it's... I don't know. It sounds stupid out loud, but I guess that's 'irrational emotional responses', isn't it?"

"It would not be logical for the Captain to blame you." Savel insisted.

"That's why it's an emotional response, Savel," Jordan said flatly.

"I have often perceived that humans fall back on that defense when they have no other rationale, Commander."

"Maybe," Jordan sighed. "Fuck. I can't believe the gorram ship blew up." She covered her face with her hands. "I can't believe Jerri's in a coma. Oh God, what if she'd dead? I can't believe my best friend could be dead, I blew up my husband's -- I allowed the T'Kith'Kin to blow up my husband's ship -- and I'm stuck in an enclosed space with you of all people."

"I apologize if my presence offends you, Commander. There was not, however, another escape pod available." the Vulcan said, attempting his best to not take offense.

"I don't do well with Vulcans. I don't do well with people who don't express at least what they're really thinking, or feeling, or anything..."

"I have observed that many humans often do not display their true opinions." he said after a moment. "It would seem, then, that you must not "do well" with many people at all."

"At least they display something. And part of it, of interaction, is seeing through to their true opinions," Jordan said. "I was a reporter once, it was my job to do that. Read what people were really thinking. I was good at it too. It's my job now. In a different way."

Savel merely raised an eyebrow. "I am not familiar with your history prior to your assignment to the Miranda. Do you refer to your Intelligence background?"

"I suppose." Jordan shrugged. "I was a reporter. For the Federation Dispatch for several years. Then I met Jii. I'm not a reporter any more. I use the skills for intelligence work, but..." She shrugged. "It's not the same. It's good, I love the work, usually, but it's different." She sighed and leaned her head back, head against the wall, hands resting on her stomach. "I wonder if I'll be working much anymore."

"Should we ever depart this system, Commander." the Vulcan offered consolingly. "I doubt your career will be in any jeopardy. I suspect Starfleet will be pleased if any of us simply make it home."

"No, not because of what happened today," Jordan said. "Because of what'll happen in about four months." She clasped her gently rounded stomach firmly and closed her eyes, forehead creased deeply. "Do you think they're okay?" her voice was low. "The Doctor said, that stress could--" Her voice caught in her throat. "And if we don't get picked up, what about my medication. What if I lose them? What if this isn't meant to be either? What then? And---" She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. It must make you uncomfortable."

Opening one of the equipment lockers, the Vulcan pulled out a medical tricorder, and handed a ration pack and a water bottle to the Commander. As she accepted them, he began scanning. "Your children would seem to be fine, Commander. Though as you said, I would recommend that you remain calm. If you do not believe you will be able to, I can sedate you if you wish."

"Maybe that would be best," Jordan agreed, her throat tightening, her chest following suit. "Thank you."

He nodded, and removed the hypospray. "Sleep well, Commander."

As she nodded off, he found it curious that he had not been entirely honest.

As it was, their chances of survival were negligible. Should Miranda and Galaxy somehow win the day - a fact that seemed unlikely - he did not think that they would be able to pick up escape pods.

Savel found that, even as good as he was at emotional control, he felt a pang of sadness as he hoped that the 12th Fleet got there in time. It would be the only chance that Commander Jordan's children would ever have to be born.

"Silence"

Flight Officer Todd Kehoe,
Rogue 13/Flight Officer

Flight Officer Jeffrey Clemons,
Rogue 10/Flight Officer

Special Guest,
Record Holder, Most Consecutive Deaths

****

Asteroid Field,
Havras System,
Breen Sector

Kehoe and Clemons hadn't flown together since the Dominion War. Those had been far different days, and they'd both been marine pilots back then. The war had changed them. In 2373, Kehoe had been a kid, barely out of fighter training. Clemons only had a year on him.

Over the course of the two and a half year war, they'd changed from the fresh faced youths from farm towns to the professional warriors that they were now. They'd grown quieter. It was always Pikarr and Slaton filling the comm channels with chatter now. In 2373 it had been them.

They'd been green when the Et'zet the Breen had commanded Rogue Squadron. It seemed so strange to be flying against Breen now, since they all looked the same to outsiders. Even the outgoing Et'zet had never shown his form to outsiders. Todd had heard recently that Et'zet was a Colonel in special forces now, and was probably about to be tapped for Breen Sector SpecOps. So strange...

"Clem, remember Chin'toka?" Todd asked. Chin'toka One. They'd lost over half the squadron going in against the Breen Polaron Weapons that day, and Clemons and Kehoe had been fortunate enough to live through it.

"Of course," Clemons replied, and immediately launched himself into a sideslip around a pair of charging T'Kith'Kin fighters. Kehoe did the same, and they crossed paths as they came around behind the T'Kith'Kin.

That was when it all went wrong. Somewhere nearby, Kedron Sylthan, Rogue 14, was blown into small pieces, and the remnants of his craft blasted across thier path. A large shard of the cockpit wall slashed through Kehoe's hull, severing his leg at the knee. Screams filled the comm as Kehoe tried to eject from his compromised fighter, but the shard pinned the chair to the hull, preventing ejection. In shock, he continued screaming.

Clemons was shocked by the sudden blood curdling screams on the Rogue Channel and turned his head to look at Kehoe's cockpit, which was bathed in blood spray. His friend's blood. His friend's dying moment. As he watched, Kehoe's fighter fragmented, then exploded. Clemons watched as the ball of dust
fell behind.

When he turned back, the hull of Miranda One was all that he could see. There was no time to pull up.

****

Deck 10,
Crew Quarters,
USS Miranda One

Kyle Youngman stood in an empty crew quarters. It wasn't even his, as he'd been responding to an intruder alert. Glancing out the window, he realized that (once again) his doom was iminent. He could see the lids of Clemons' eyes, squeezed shut in his final moments.

"Oh for fuck's sake! The third time today!"

Youngman died again.

"Brothers at Arms."

by

Ens. Stel Ikmar Jonran,
Sec/Tac Officer

&

Ens. Nak Labron,
Sec/Tac Officer(NPC)

[Soundtrack: Gladiator Soundtack - The barbarian hordes. Close range combat encouter]

"You're missing a rifle." Stel held his up in the air, pointed at the ceiling. The marksman had his favourite toy in hand.

"Unreliable. I have my own weapons right here." as Nak clenched his fists. "We should head to sickbay and defend it."

"Aye, No use standing around here......" A T'kith'kin plasmabolt skimmed Stel's right leg, singing his skin and sending a hot feeling of pain through his leg. There were about 5 of them, freshly transported in.

Stel's face grimaced in pain as he kneeled down and took aim with his rifle. He blew the head off a T'kith'kin boarder as soon as he took aim. "One shot, one kill." The 4 kept running, as 4 more materialized behind them. 2 more shots, 2 more kills, and then the last 6 were in melee ranged. A few wild shots from Stel brought 2 more down, splattering more fo their blood on him, while Nak proceeded to grab one by his head and smash him against the wall, shattering his carapace and effectively killing him.

Stel managed to gets one more shot off before getting his rifle knocked from his hands. The shot blew a massive hole right through the chest of one of the boarders, he fell down, and Stel took a massive slash acrossed his left leg as he drew his saber. The Tritanium blade smashed through the neck of one of the boarders. Nak took another an splattered him against the ceiling. Stel quickly grabbed his rifle with his free right hand, slashing through another T'kith'kin's chest, while firing at one that was taking aim at him. The boarder took his shot, skimming off of Stel's left torso.

"VICIOUS MONSTERS!" Stel let out a massive howling warcry And they each killed a final boarder. Stel slung his rifle over his right shoulder and clutched his bleeding wound. The skimm of his left side.

"Are you alright Stel?" Nak said with concern.

"I'll....." The sudden sound of more T'kith'kin materializing startled them both. ".....live." Suddenly =/\=To anyone on deck 10! This is Crewman Taxem! I'm pinned down! The Bugs are everywhere! Please!=/\=

The sounds of weapons fire came from both ends of the hall. Nak took severa hits before the T'kith'kin swarmed in. "Stel! GO! I'll hold them off!"

Stel turned to his brother at arms. "Nak! I can't leave you!."

Nak boomed. "GO! I'll be fine!" At that moment he grabbed one and threw him against the wall. Stel bolted off to help the pinned down crewman.

He approached firefight with extreme caution and stealth. A young bolian was arround a corner, clutching his rifle for dear life, bioplasma flying all around him.

Stel dove to on his chest when in firing range started picking off T'kith'kin, one by one. When 3 were left, they charged so quickly that Stel's position was compromised.

Stel's luck had run out. He took two hits on the torso and one on his right leg. Even still, he managed to fire off two shots and impale the 3rd with his blade. Fearful, Cwm. Taxem approached. Stel had fell to his knees, and sat there, very still. Suddenly, the deck rumbled as Nak approached. His uniform was tatterd, and he was visibly in pain, a shot or two having breached his rocky skin. "Stel?"

The young bolian came closer. "Is he dead."

Stel drifted back into consciouness. His body was alive with pain. "On Bloody hell! who set me on fire!" He promptly passed out. Nak saw no alternative then to pick the kless up, and hope that too much T'kith'kin blood wouldn't get into his bloodstream.

Deck 10: Main Sickbay.

The Doors to sickbay opened quickly. Nak's face was filled with as much concern as a Brikar could show. Taxem took a gaurd position outside as Nak slightly limped in. He was far from a doctor, but he knew that Stel was in trouble.

"Miranda-Two"
Cmdr Jaal Jaxom
& the Secondary Bridge Crew
USS Miranda

==Secondary Hull==

Things were going from bad to worse.

'More like 'very bad' to 'very worse',' Jaal thought.

The Trill had been in tight situations before, but none quite as tough as this. The main viewer automatically dimmed as the tertiary hull became one with the surrounding space.

"Pick up as many escape pods as you can," he ordered.

"Aye," was Circ's terse response.

The secondary hull had taken a few lumps but was still largely in the fight. Jaal glanced at the ops console and couldn't help but wonder how much longer their luck would hold out. Most of the Rogues had been picked off and the Galaxy had it's third nacelle sheared off.

They'd entered the fray using the phaser cannon to tag as many of the smaller Hydran ships as possible. They'd used regular phasers on the T'Kith'Kin ships because of their unique shielding.

Sanchez was an excellent shot at the tactical console hitting most of her marks. They'd decided to conserve the torpedoes for the moment.

The secondary hull was the smallest of the three and therefore, theoretically, the hardest to hit. Diixe was doing an admirable job piloting missing asteroids, debris, and enemy fire.

Of course, with the overwhelming odds being faced by the intrepid crew the luck woudn't last.

Seemingly from out of nowhere a Hydran ship mounted it's assault from behind with the infamous hellbore cannon.

The impact made the deck feel like it lifted up half a meter or so. Anyone standing found themselves thrown forward. Jaal grabbed the corner of the ops console as his feet flew over him. He landed on his ass near the from of the bridge. "Report!" he hollered righting himself.

Circ's fingers glided across her panel. "They snuck up on us! Shields are down forty percent. The warp drive is offline. We've lost life support on the lower decks."

"Is that all?"

"No," Circ replied acidly. "Aft, ventral phaser banks are also not responding."

'Damn' the Trill thought silently. "Sanchez," Jaxom looked towards the back of the bridge, "Fire a spread of torpedoes. Try to get'em off our backs."

"Jaal... they're firing again!"

"Hang on!"

The impact had the same effect except this time everyone hit the deck. Jaal managed to get up and started helping other people up as soon as he could. Then he realized, Diixe, the one he was helping up, was unconscious. So were Reed and Ooshagoold.

"Medical team to the bridge!"

"That's not all were gonna need," Circ was saying as Jaal slipped into the pilot's seat to take over helm.

"What now?" he asked punching up their speed to as close to three-quarters impulse he dared with so many ships in such close quarter. There was barely room to manuever with all the enemy ships and weapons fire going every which way.

"We gotta bad hull breach in the lower, aft, port quater. Took out shield generators in that section," Circ explained without her eyes ever leaving her console. "Emergency containment fields are in tact... so far."

Jaal began manuevering the ship on a direct path towards the Galaxy's severed nacelle. "Tractor beam still work?" he asked.

"Yeah." Taking a glance at the viewscreen, Circ already knew what he was thinking, "You're not serious?"

"Commander!" Sanchez called from the tactical station, "I'm reading multiple beam-ins on the lower decks!"

"Send in sec..." Jaal was leaning over to look at the Ops console. Circ had called up a diagram of the affected areas. Jaal quirked an eyebrow for a second, "Get out people out of there. Tell'em they have ten seconds then shut down the emergency containment fields!"

Circ did as she was told not entirely sure what was up his sleeve yet. When the containment fields went down, the boarders were swept away in the vacuum of space. "Any of 'em left?" the Trill commander asked.

"Six. Looks like they're heading for the computer core," Sanchez replied.

"Computer, reroute all command and operating functions to the bridge." Jaal looked to James Mitchell and nodded. "You know what to do."

Mitchell said nothing and headed for the turbolift. It was previously agreed that he would handle any boarding parties. He would do it in a way the enemy wouldn't suspect; guerilla warfare. And with Mitchell's experience as a resistance fighter during the Bajoran Occupation, he'd be the perfect choice to lead the assualt.

Now the Galaxy's lost nacelle loomed large on the viewer. "Grab it with the tractor beam." Jaal instructed.

Seconds later they were towing it.

Jaal took the ship on an arcing flight path that put their pursuers in front and above them. It put the target ship at it's widest profile. Increasing the speed just a bit it appeared they were on a collision cousre with the Hydrans.

"Whatever you're doing, do it fast," Sanchez said with a bit of anxiety, "They're charging up that cannon of theirs again."

Jaal bit his lip. Wait for it ... wait for it ... "Now," he instructed out loud.

By now, Circ knew what was going on. She shut off the tractor beam as Jaal took the ship into a dive in front of the oncoming enemy.

The nacelle crashed into the top of the ship effectively destroying it.

Two T'Kith'Kin ships were directly behind it. One was struck with the shock wave of the Hydran ship exploding. That shielded the second one which increased it's speed to get past the firey cloud. In seconds it adjusted it's course and was closing in on Miranda-Two.

"Round Three"
Major Veronique St Melisande - Deuce
Lt. Cole Slaton - Wraith

Veronique moved in, it left two fighters, "Wraith, we've lost Babygirl. It's two on one here and you've got twenty seconds." He had twenty seconds to deal with the two torpedoes and possibly with a fighter on his tail. Veronique had a lot of work to do and a very short time to do it.

Cole nodded to himself knowing full well Veronique couldn't see him, he clicking the response button. "Roger that..." he muttered not really caring if he was heard or not. A large high energy phaser beam suddenly shot towards him, swerving to the left using his now heightened reflexes he felt the energy-wash from the phaser as it cut through space missing his right wing by a fraction.

He fired his own phaser banks using the momentary shove in the side which brought him onto one of the torpedoes, the last phaser pulse caught the torpedo's rear cutting through into the core itself. The torpedo exploded and for a brief moment Cole vanished into an ocean of flames.

He looked up seeing the fire slicking out over the surface of fighter, it moved like liquid sliding over everything and the scream it made was deafening. Thankfully he came out through the other side of the fire-cloud re-emerging with the Miranda in plain sight, and growing rapidly in size. ~One down!~ he thought easing the control stick over towards the second torpedo which was further off to the left.

A warning siren echoed in his cockpit and he had just enough time to look at the display screen showing a rear view, the enemy fighter loomed in the display screen firing on his position. "Deuce!" he shouted the single word, it was all he could say as he braced himself against the impacts. His shields were almost none existent, diverting them to his engines which were running ten percent over their designed limit, he felt each energy bolt hitting his aft. One managed to pass through a gap in his shields ricocheting off his left wing leaving a singed mark.

"Shit," Veronique swore to herself. This guy was being a pain in the ass. The Hydran fighter was doing his damndest to not get hit by her, but that still left one on Cole. And Cole was very busy! Pitching the fighter up, she fired a mini-torp on full active, and just let it go, it would keep him busy for a few seconds as it arc'd over towards him. His fighter was full aspect to the torpedo as it headed back down. It take that split second longer to loose it.

Turning the fighter a hard ninety degrees, she jinked to get on the tail of the other Hydran fighter. Pressing the fire stud, she watched as the parallel phaser fire roared forth from her emitters. She walked it towards the fighter, slashing the right wing and the main thruster on it.

It was too much even for Cole, dodging fire coming towards him - from his own ship - dodging the incoming fire from the enemy in his wake and trying to destroy the torpedo rushing towards the Miranda. He heard a triumphant cry over the com-link obviously Veronique had scored a hit and glancing at the rear view display saw damaged to the enemy's right wing, plasma was leaking leaving a bright blue trail behind her.

"Miranda! Lock onto my ship and fire... on my mark" he knew whoever was on the other end was about to argue but Cole didn't have the time, nor the patience. "Just fucking do it! Two... One... FIRE!" he screamed yanking hard on the control stick. His fighter swerved to the right but also lifted up into a cork screw, the red phaser beam from the Miranda shot past him bathing the cockpit in its red glow.

The fighter following wasn't expecting anything of the sort and was instantly consumed by the high energy bolt, there wasn't much of an explosion, with shield practically gone - thanks to Veronique's persisting attacks - the Miranda's beam slices straight through. Two sections, both consisting of the right and left wing, spun out flying through space forgotten in the ensuing battle, the rest of the fighter was gone. It had completely disintegrated along with the pilot.

Watching the explosion with the corner of her eye, Veronique put her attention on to the last enemy fighter. It knew who it's friends were as it raced to location of one of the T'Kith'kin capships that had engaged the Tertiary Hull. Slowing to almost a crawl, she gave herself a few seconds to watch Cole and hoped. But as she watched, over the command comm-net came a dreaded call. The whole torpedo chase was a bust, the core had gone critical. The Tertiary Hull was going to go up anyway. Sometimes, it just wasn't fucking worth risking your life!!

Now alone with only the torpedo to worry about he lined up and fired, the right bolt flew straight past the torpedo hitting the hull of the Miranda. It was a good thing Cole had expected the right bolt to miss, the left however did not. It struck home detonating the photon torpedo, as before fire raced out from the explosion engulf Cole's fighter.

"Full power to shields! Divert everything else to manoeuvring thrusters! NOW!" he screamed suddenly seeing the Miranda's hull coming right for him. He could dimly hear the computer's voice ["Collision alert! Collision alert!"] somewhere in the background. He yanked back hard on the stick, his hands shook as did his arms with the amount of force it was exerting, slowly the stick moved back lifting the fighter up. He could make out detail on the hull, the scorch marks he'd made trying to take out the torpedoes were clearly visibly now.

The sleek black fighter pulled up but the outer edge of the shields caught the Miranda's hull, Cole braced himself as best he could while his fighter scrapped along the surface of the starship, he could hear the hull groaning with protest at being treated so badly. Cole could only wince hoping he didn't have to pay for the damage, it was an odd thing to think of at this point in time, but the mind often acted strangely when stressed.

He pulled the opposite way on the stick using the momentum to take his fighter up and away from the Miranda, the groaning stopped, the warning alarms stopped as did the annoying computer's voice in the background. All he could see now was open space.

"Great Work, Wraith - but it was all for fucking naught. Core is about to blow - get the hell out of there."

He brought the newly painted Wraith around for a straffing pass along the side of the Miranda, escape pods were being ejected all over the hull, their small thrusters instantly firing taking them away from the doomed ship. ~All for nothing!~ his felt his hand tightening its grip around the control stick. ~For nothing...~ He quickly shook his head trying to clear his head, to dwell on the past was useless, he had no way of knowing and the torpedo still would have caused a great deal of damage and loss of life.

"Deuce, inbound on your locy..." which in Laiman's terms meant he was heading for her location at max burn. The afterburners kicked in, this time Cole kept them running at a cool eight-five percent knowing they had recieved a severe beating while attempting to knock out the torpedoes. He quickly came up alongside Veronique several metres off her starboard wing.

Veronique yawed on her axis and headed back to Babygirl, Cole was soon on her wing.

"Deuce, suggest we stick around and make sure those bastards don't go pod hunting?" He glanced into the rear display seeing the swarm of escape pods following in thier wake, it was like an expanding shockwave of small ships, reminding him of a ripple in a pond.

"Good idea - I'm going to pick up Babygirl. Join you in a few moments."

"Roger that... watch your six!" Cole instantly slammed the throttle lever back effectively cutting his forward motion to almost zero before yanking hard on the stick, the fighter's front flipped up and the she turned end over end, Cole kicked in the engines one he saw the Miranda upside down in front of him. He quickly righted himself while heading back.

"Hey Babygirl, you want a lift?" called Veronique over laser comms.

"Just get me out of this suicide can," exclaimed Glaisten.

Keeping an ear on the command comm-net feed, she rescued Glaisten. Wondering when the bright flare of the core would appear.

"She Dreamed"
by Cmdr. Jerri Wolfson

She dreamed of flying.

The world of the air was far more peaceful than that of the ground with nothing but air in her hair, her ears, and sharing her space with nothing but the birds and the clouds in the sky. It was beautiful. She banked towards a particularly interesting cloud bank  cumulus, she recognized, as the meteorology classes returned to mind.

She dreamed of fire.

The fire reached out to grasp her, the tongues of flames licking at her flesh till all she could feel was heat. The fire was painless, but she felt a sudden loss like something integral to her had burned in the inferno surrounding her. She reached out a trembling hand and discovered it, too, was on fire. Shouldn't fire burn?

She dreamed of cold.

Ice surrounded her, filled her, was one with her. The cold surrounding her should have been bone deep, but she felt nothing but a pleasant tingle. She could no more move than she could cause the reemergence of the fire. That, at least, had been interesting. This, this frightened her as nothing else had. Fire should burn, ice should chillwhy did it not?

She dreamed of water.

She swam through a tropical sea, surrounded by dolphins and other animals of the deep as she continued on some unspoken and unrealized quest. Ahead she saw an island, and her seemingly tireless arms pulled her towards it. Destiny lay there, but what that could mean she did not know. This did not frighten her as the cold had, here she had a purpose. Here, she sought something. But what could it be?

She dreamed of light.

At the end of a long tunnel it lay there, but she did not move towards it. Instead she turned back, back towards the comforting darkness. There was something theresomething that she needed first

She dreamed of voices.

They called to her. 'Jerri? Can you hear me?' 'Jerri?' she wondered before spinning off to dream again.

She dreamed of waking up.

"Commander Wolfson? Welcome back..."

"Must go faster!!!"

Lieutenant (JG) Ariss Edon ~ Security/Tactical Officer

USS Miranda - Deck 34

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Commander, that last blast destabilized the warp core. Warp core breach in--"

"Warp core breach in two minutes, thirty seconds," the computer intoned.

"All hands, this is the... Captain." Jordan said, looking round the bridge. "Abandon ship! Immediately, all hands abandon ship."

~Oh No! Not Again! ~ Ariss thought, somewhat resignedly. This wasn't the first time he'd had to abandon ship, but at least this time, there was one thing he could do before he left. Targeting a Hydran that was charging its canon, with the obvious intent of finishing them off. Overloading the remaining phaser bank right in its face, sparks flew and power surged as the phaser gave it's last, tearing into the Hydrans shields. Damaged, but alive, it veered, right, into, ~ There! ~ tapping one last command, Ariss detonated the last of the photons he’d beamed out earlier. The resulting flash as the Hydrans shields collapsed, followed swiftly by its hull gave Ariss some small satisfaction. “Bite Me you Son’of’a …!” he said, borrowing an expression he’d heard Brian use once.

"Warp core breach in two minutes" the computer reminded him.

‘All right!’ he said softly. Looking up, he saw everyone heading out of the bridge, Commander Jordan waiting for everyone, to be the last out. Stepping off the bridge, he turned toward his assigned pod. Jogging down the corridor, he ducked under a partially collapsed beam, and hopped over another. Turning a corner, he spied the pods further down the corridor.

Sliding to a sudden halt, he turned. ~ What… ? ~ he thought, ~ I could’ve sworn that… ~

There…

From inside a room, someone was there. Cursing, fluently, and in several languages, he stepped up to the door, and promptly ran face first into it as it failed to open. Swearing louder now, he grabbed the panel by the door, and ripped the cover off to reveal the manual latch underneath. Pulling the release, he opened the door slightly, then opened it fully by brute force. ~ Damn it’s dark! ~ He thought. Lit only by discharges of power from some severed EPS relay…

"Warp core breach in one minute thirty seconds" the now irritating voice said.

“Okay, okay. Who’s in here!” he shouted.

“Here!” a disembodied voice said. “I’m stuck!”

~ Here!?! Frell me! Does… ~ “I’ll need a bit more that that, and HURRY!” Ariss snapped. Entering the room, the bad language increased in volume and complexity as he tripped over something as the ship shook.

“That was me! Some help please! The voice said.

~ Prophets, please! ~ Reaching down, he grabbed the first thing that came to hand, and was rewarded with a yelp.

"Warp core breach in one minute"

“Arrrggghhh!!!” Ariss yelled. Pulling, he was rewarded with a scream and a snapping sound. Continuing to pull, despite the screams, and other noises, he yanked the crewmember toward the door. “Okay, okay. I’m out, help me up.” Entering the shaft of light by the door, he realised he had hold of a pair of legs. Reaching for the arms, he was rewarded with another yelp as he helped the crewman up. “Let’s go!”

~ Prophets. Must go faster! ~

…

… …

… … …

"Warp core breach in thirty seconds"

"Let's see what's happening in your neck of the woods"

Cmdr. Arel Smith (Miranda)
Lt. Ella Grey (currently on unknown planet)
Ensign Indigo Renkert (Galaxy)
Ensign Bill "Boyfriend Bill" Brown (Galaxy)
Samantha Widdlestein (Galaxy)
K'Laudia (Miranda)

*****

She watched the goings on around her in bemusement.

Sickbay was overcrowded with people and the doctors and nurses were running about hurriedly, injured people were crying, hypos were hissing, and the air smelled of blood and sterile machines. The patient to the right of her was snoring loudly, probably under the spell of whatever medicines the doctors had forced upon him, Arel Smith thought.

She thought the patient to the left of her might be dead. He made no sound.

The ship was making up for that by rocking back and forth as it was fired upon. The noise of things breaking or tearing or wrenching loudly, followed by the yelps of surprise and/or pain due to those things breaking, occasionally filtered through the strange fog that she found herself in but otherwise she watched the scene before her as if it were a dream.

Maybe if Brooke hadn't given Arel whatever the hell he'd injected her with, she might have found the scene more depressing or even real.

As it was, Arel Smith was much more interested in the five ballerinas with bat'leths that she saw dancing in the corner near what she thought might have been Heather Sanchez.

"Is it difficult to do an arabesque with those?" Arel asked them.

****

"Bill, we've got to move!" Indigo Renkert told her boyfriend as she tried to pull him up off the ground where he had fallen.

Bill shook his head and gave a sad smile, shifting slightly so that he could be in more of a sitting position. The pain wasn't so bad now but that wasn't exactly a good thing. He was glad that they had made it inside someone's quarters; the thought of not dying in the halls was somehow comforting.
"Nah, babe. I'm going to stay for awhile."

"No, no you're not! We'll find you a doctor... I'll get you some help." Indy pleaded with him, still trying to get him to move. She knew the wound was bad, very bad, but there had to be some damn doctors left somewhere on this ship. "I won't leave you here!"

Bill ignored that and reached up to wipe away some of the tears from her cheek with his thumb and then gently tug on the braids of her purple hair. "I love this color on you, you know."

"I promise never to change it if you come with me now!" Indy said desperately.

Bill smiled widely, despite the situation. "Now I know you love me."

"Of course I do." Indy said, sniffing back tears.

"Then you'll leave me here." Bill said calmly, his smile fading. "I want to be sure you'll be okay."

"I won't do it!"

"Ind.." Bill began but gave up with a sigh when he saw her determined face. "Aw, hell. I don't want to be alone for this anyway. Come sit by me, babe. We got some things to talk about."

****

Samantha M. Widdlestein huddled miserably in the corner of one of the designated safety areas onboard the USS Galaxy, thinking to herself that maybe this whole emancipation from her parents idea had not been one of her better plans.

Sure she was a child prodigy, about a million times smarter than the children onboard or half the crew for that matter, best friends with the Chief of Security for the USS Miranda, the future bride of the lovely Lysander, and set on the right track towards becoming known throughout the quadrant as a famous author and investigative journalist but...

But there were times when a girl just wanted her Mummy.

****

The lean white cat hissed at the intruder, who smiled (sorta) and then raised its weapon.

K'Laudia hissed again, jumped, and then proceeded to start clawing it's face out.

They didn't call her the she-demon for nothing.

When the intruder finally managed to throw her off, she landed gracefully on all fours and ran quickly down the hall before he could retaliate.

****

Ella Grey walked as briskly as she could while being under the harsh light of an unknown sun and half dragging one of her best friends towards shelter.

All in all, she wasn't feeling too bad though.

****

She held him until it was over, kissed him goodbye, and then carefully pulled the blanket up over him.

Ten minutes later, a numb Indigo quietly left the quarters.

"Dancing With The Devil Under The Pale Starlight Redux" Part 1 of 3

(Takes place between the events of "Swept Away, Part II" and "Swept Away, Part III")

Principal Characters

Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff

Guest Appearances By

Captain Daren M'Kantu
Lt. Commander James Corgan
Lt. Ven'r Nong
Ensign T'Pol Hunter
Commander Ethan Suder
Flight Officer Angelienia
Lt. Shelley O'Rourke

****

USS Galaxy-A
Secondary Hull Deck 14
Transporter Room 5

In retrospect, Victor decided, it had been a bad idea to suggest to the Transporter Chief Saunders that if he didn't beam Victor over to the Secondary Hull minutes after separation, that Victor would be certain to stop by the Galaxy's classrooms on a daily basis to talk to the man's son. Considering the way the man's hands had been shaking at the time, it was a miracle that he'd managed to thread a transporter beam through the shields before the narrow band left open for such emergencies skipped over to another setting and left Victor a collection of scattered energized molecules floating in space.

The nearness of the miss was demonstrated by the fact that Victor's pants seemed to have failed to make the trip with him. He made a note to stop back by and thank the Chief for his good work.

The Chief on duty was someone Victor didn't recognize, which wasn't surprising given the size of the crew. Whoever she was, she recognized Victor instantly, and took a wide-eyed step back from her console as he materialized.

"Chief," Victor nodded as he stepped down off the platform. "I'm going to need you to bend..."

Klaxons started to sound and the ship reeled from an impact to her shields, throwing Victor against the wall and then to the floor.
=/\="Breen Boarding Parties on Decks 16 and 17." =/\= the computer announced in its pleasant voice. =/\="Security Teams to Decks 16 and 17 to repel boarders."=/\=

Victor frowned as he stood, the Chief's eyes widening further as she stared at him from her seated position against the wall to his left, about at the level of his waist. He glanced down at the young woman, who was trying to scoot back away from him, eyes still fixed and wide. "Wait here, Chief - I need to get something and I'll be right back."

The woman nodded once, jerkily, as he crossed the room and exited into the empty corridor. Fifty feet down to the right he found what he was looking for - a replicator station - and called up a new set of pants, ignoring the socks and boots to save time. The Breen wouldn't care if he had boots on.

A minute and two more jolting impacts to the ship later, he was back in the Transporter Room, pants in hand. The Chief was still behind her console, eyes just as wide, and a phaser clutched in her shaky hand, aimed at the door.

Victor sidestepped the bolt of energy that sizzled across the room and into the corridor matter-of-factly and started to don the newly-replicated pants. "Good thinking, Chief," he nodded. "But you need to work on your point-of-aim when you get a chance. Have you got a spare power pack for that if you need it?"

The woman stared at him for a moment, and then lowered her hand and nodded again, eyes still wide. "Y-you're n-not going t-to..." she whispered.

"I can't stay, Chief - the Breen are two decks down." Victor looked up as he fastened the pants. "You'll be safe enough here - just lock the door."

"B-but I t-thought t-that y-you were g-going t-to..."

The woman was scared of him, that much was certain - Victor knew the signs too well. At least she was scared of the Breen more, though, since she wanted him to stay and guard the Transporter room. "I can't Chief. If you need me, contact me and beam me back - but I've got Breen to kill right now."

"I... I..." The woman finally stopped trying to speak and simply nodded, her blonde hair disarrayed and her eyes still wide.

Victor nodded, decided against smiling under the circumstances, and stepped back towards the transport pad. Another jolt shook the ship, causing the lights to flicker, and in the instant they were out, Death slipped into the room to look out through the security officer's eyes. "Send me to Deck 17, and the smallest group of security personnel you see," the Reaper whispered, the cries of the damned filling each word and spilling out to fall to the floor like blood running from an open wound.

The Chief made a muffled noise, jammed the fingers of one hand into her mouth to keep from screaming, and stabbed at her controls in frantic haste until the wash of white light surrounded Victor and took him away.

****

USS Galaxy-A
Secondary Hull Deck 17
Outside the Liaison Department Offices

Shelley O'Rourke screamed.

It was bad enough that there were Breen boarding party that had her pinned down was trying to kill her, bad enough that the whole ship was going to be destroyed in the fight and no one seemed to realize - or care - and even worse that she hated herself for not being able to stop shaking and do what she was trained to do. She wished Marsh were here, or T'Lan, or even So'ka and Hanley - anyone to tell her what she needed to do so that she didn't have to make the decision herself.

But the worst thing of all was the realization that the hum of a transporter that she thought was sending her reinforcements had sent her the Devil instead. The sudden wash of his presence over her was too much to take, and she screamed in fear and frustration as she realized that he'd come for her, as she'd always known he would.

This time, though, the Devil paid her no attention, and instead turned his gaze on the three Breen that had pinned her in the Jefferies tube access alcove. He growled once, stepped forward and out of her view, and then something else was screaming.

After a moment, as her heart stopped pounding, she realized that it wasn't a scream she heard, but instead the sound of the pressurized environment inside the Breen's suits escaping into the corridor, slowly fading away as it emptied out. She gulped, clutched her rifle, and peered out into the corridor, knowing what she would see.

All three of the Breen were dead, as she'd known they'd be. Three short aliens couldn't kill the Devil. Satan incarnate was standing over the last one, the slighter figure of the alien shrinking as it boiled away in a fog out onto the floor, making the suit look like a deflating balloon.

As she watched, Satan looked up and she recoiled from what she saw in his eyes. "O'Rourke," he said in a voice that sliced at her soul with icy knives of fear. "You injured?"

Shelley shook her head and took a breath, trying to force herself to speak.

Before she did so, Satan was talking again. "We don't need to worry about Deck 16, the Marines are there. Find a few more people and start working your way aft. I'll clear forward."

Shelley started to nod and then stopped, anger pushing its way to the fore. "I'm the one that's supposed to be giving the orders, here," she snapped. "I outrank you!"

"But you're not," Satan replied quietly, his voice still cutting at her. "You're just standing there. If you're not going to act like a leader, then you're a follower."

"That's not how it is, you bastard!"

"Yes, it is, O'Rourke. That's exactly how it is. You lead, or you follow. No middle ground."

She hated him. She hated him for what he'd done to her on the Defiant - though a part of her sill protested that it hadn't been him, but the Defiant itself that had done that - and she hated him for the way she reacted to his presence, the things he made her feel just by walking in the same room. But most of all, at this moment, she hated Satan because he was right.

"I hate you," she hissed.

Satan looked at her with a total lack of concern. "Hate me all you want, O'Rourke," he said in his terrifying voice. "If that gets you through the day, then do it. But stop sitting there, coasting. You're a good officer, act like one. *Do* something, don't just react to things."

The anger inside her reached the boiling point and without realizing it, she found herself standing in front of him, the shock of the slap she'd just delivered to the Prince of Darkness still running down her arm.

"Better," Satan nodded. "Much better. Try using the edge of the hand next time though - you'll have a better chance of breaking bone that way."

O'Rourke flinched at the words, half-expecting a return blow, and stared for a moment. She'd hit him. She'd walked up to Satan and slapped his face without a hint of fear. If she could do that, then... then she could do anything.

"Good girl," the Devil nodded, his voice losing the horrific undertones it had possessed a moment earlier, the sense of presence shoving at her receding until the man in front of her was only Victor Krieghoff - still frightening, still a monster, but no longer *the* monster.

"You call me a 'girl' that one more time, Mister, and I swear to God I'll knock your head off!" O'Rourke retorted. God this was wonderful! She wasn't afraid any more - she was free!

Victor looked at her for a moment, and then nodded. "All right, Lieutenant. Orders?"

Oh yes, Shelley realized as several more Security Personnel came running up and looked at her expectantly. She was free - and it was time to kick some Breen ass.

As she opened her mouth to speak, the voice of the Chief Engineer, now acting XO blared over each Security Officer's combadge. =/\=" Suder to any security team available: we have demolition teams on the exterior hull attempting to lay charges at the pylon junctures. Stopping them is a priority task."=/\=

****

USS Galaxy-A
Secondary Hull, Deck 8
Battle Bridge

8-Ball checked her readings and frowned. "Sir, I'm reading three transport signatures attempting to penetrate the shields..." The ship shuddered under a series of blows. "They got through in that last fluctuation." She checked a reading. "Destination was the exterior of the hull."

"Location, Ensign? Are they beaming mines?" Daren asked without taking his eyes from the tactical plot.

"The base of the nacelles, sir." 8-Ball refined her readings and keyed the locations up on a tripartite split-screen. "Personnel, sir - looks like four Hydrans per site. They have..." She checked her readings again. "Demolition packs, sir. I think they're going to try and blow the relay conduits in the pylons and force a shut-down." She looked up, her impassive Vulcan mask back on for the occasion, even though she hated using it. "We'll be dead in space if that happens."

Daren looked up at the screen and the teams of ungainly-appearing trilaterally-symmetrical suited figures as they began to cluster at the bases of the pylons. If they lost the nacelles, the fight was over, and everything had been for nothing. "Mr. Nong, recall a fighter to scrape them off the hull. Mr. Suder, get a security team out there as well."

"Aye, sir," Nong snapped. "Vanguard 11, I have a strafing run for you. Inputting coordinates now." He keyed in the numbers.

"Coordinates received." There was a pause, and then Angelienia's voice said quietly. "Those are... on my way, sir."

Ethan switched over to the Security com frequency. "Suder to any security team available: we have demolition teams on the exterior hull attempting to lay charges at the pylon junctures. Stopping them is a priority task."

A babble of voices sounded as people reported their inability to respond for a second, and then a single voice cut them off, its words slicing through the confusion and reaching out to the individuals on the bridge with razors of fear to cut into them. "Understood, sir. I'm on it."

Suder recoiled slightly and looked up. "Who was...?"

Daren looked away from the plot for a moment, eyes hard even as the sense of relief that the words brought - and the tinge of fear they carried - washed through him. "That was Lieutenant Krieghoff, Mr. Suder. May Allah have mercy on the Hydran's souls... because he won't." He turned back to the plot and frowned, mind already racing ahead to the next issue. "Bring us about to Point Seven Five, Ensign Terrik. I think it's time we did something about those Hydran cruisers using the asteroid cluster there for cover. Mr. Nong, hurt them if you please.
Badly."

****

USS Galaxy-A
Deck 17
Maintenance Station

"What the hell are you doing, Mister?" O'Rourke snapped for the third time as she watched Victor key in an override code at the Maintenance replicator. "And what the hell was that "I'll take care of it crap to Suder?"

"I said I'd take care of it because I can do it, O'Rourke," he replied as the replicator surrendered and began to hum as it processed his request. "Taking a whole team is pointless when one man can do it. The ship needs you in here, not out on the hull."

"Krieghoff, you are the biggest..."

Victor held up a hand to cut her off. "Later, O'Rourke." He reached into the replicator and withdrew a double-barreled rifle with the barrels arranged one atop the other, mounted to a synthetic stock and sling.

"What is *that?*"

"A double rifle," Victor replied mechanically as he keyed in another code. "It fires 900 grain kinetic slugs via chemical propulsion."

O'Rourke stared at the weapon in disbelief. "What? Why the hell aren't you using a phaser?"

"The Hydrans will see a phaser, O'Rourke - they can't see this." Victor pulled out a bandolier of cartridges - far larger than O'Rourke believed any man-portable weapon should fire - and slipped it over one shoulder. "I can pick them off the length of the hull and they'll not know what's happening."

He loaded the rifle with two cartridges, and then cycled open a hatchway to the maintenance environment suits and pulled out a set of magboots. "You do what you can in here - I've got this."

"What about your suit?" O'Rourke snapped. "You can't go out there like that! You're insane!"

Victor looked at her for a split-second after he finished clamping the magboots on, and then picked up the weapon he'd replicated and shook his head. As the door to the airlock slid closed, his last words filled the corridor and sent chills down her spine. "I don't need one."

"More wounded"
by Koen as James A. Brooke, aCMO

They were getting a pounding, that was sure, Brooke thought. This thought was just the amount of free time he had in between cases. Again, plasma burns were the most heavily wounded, but with boarding parties running around the ship, the more standard stab and shotwounds also appeared. For Brooke, anything was better then plasma burns. If there was one thing he hated...

'They should have found a way to avoid these things by now,' he thought as the next patient appeared on his ER table. Beamed in, so that made it urgent. Beaming during a battle, when every joule of power was needed, was only done when no other alternative remained.

"Scan," Brooke ordered as the person had completely materialised. One of the OR nurses activated the biobed scanners, while Brooke washed his hands yet again. Fight victim this time, he saw quickly. He had become good at that, but what he really wanted to do was delivering babies. Much more joy about those.

But that was not for now, at least, he hoped not. He knew that babies came on their own schedule, but now he had other things to do. Like patching up this young security petty officer. "Blood," he ordered as he started on the guy's chest. The one word commands sounded grumpy, but in fact they were the fastest way of getting important information out. And his well-trained crew knew what to do. One minute later, a pack of blood hung next to the patient, slowly getting into him.

It took Brooke 30 minutes to patch him up so he would have a fair chance at survival. The rest of the damage would have to wait untill after the battle, as it was now way too busy to do more then making sure they wouldn't die. The petty officer was just gone, when a new patient was brought in.

"Bringing Down Da House"

USS Miranda Hazard Team:
Lt. Commander T'Chani Darion, Hazard Team Leader
Ensign Imanol Harinordoquy, Hazard Team Member
Ensign Jeremiah Leger, Hazard Team Member
2nd Lieutenant Dana Collins, Hazard Team Member

USS Galaxy Hazard Team:
Lt. Commander James Lionel Corgan, Interim Hazard Team Leader
Lieutenant Claire Barnes, Hazard Team XO
Lieutenant JG Chase Remur, Hazard Team Computer Specialist
Lieutenant JG T'Lan, Hazard Team Member
Lieutenant JG Walter Marsh, Hazard Team Member
Ensign Greg Klein, Medic, Temporarily Assigned to Hazard Team
Attache' Nyssa Alverez, Hazard Team Member

Formerly of the SS Halley:
Civilian Heather Owens, Hostage

********************

T'Kith'kin Base

One moment, the Hazard Team was surrounded in a duranium armoured, stealth enabled shuttle, anxious, nervous, scared and wired for the mission ahead.

Next, they found themselves literally in the belly of an unknown beast.

The space station, a hybrid of stark Hydran totalitarianism and T'Kith'kin biological madness, just as much 'materialized' to the Hazard Team away members as they materialized inside the space station. The new stage was interposed the old one, and the team was set to work.

The station itself was an insane amalgomation of biological and technological, not as orderly nor as metal encased as the Borg from Corgan's experiences. The station reminded him more of a prebuilt fabrication, using the technological as a support structure and foundation. He saw the bulwarks and bulkheads prod out of muscle and tissue, as secure rib bones to hold up the fleshy, exoskeletal components. Muscles twitched in the walls, pipes pulsated like arteries and veins, and exoskeletal plates protected the vital areas, as hard and bright as an insect's shell.

~"No. That's not it."~ James fell more at ease, his hackles raised as he found similarities to the Borg. But on further introspection, the Hydran/T'Kith'kin base was the reversal of the Borg. The Borg sought order amidst chaos. The T'Kith'kin monstrosity, the living space station in which the Hazard Team was an invasive parasite, was more akin to order reverting back to its chaotic form.

The space station wasn't so scary. Icky, but James saw worse on the Dominion fronts.

~"Don't get cocky because they're not the Borg."~ James reminded himself, ~"Just because i'm not as scared doesn't mean their disruptors won't hurt less."~

The purple and black mottled walls responded with a pump and a hum. Corgan noted the walls, and reached into his cloak. His fingers felt hard control buttons. Briefly brushing his cloak on the walls and activating the button, James' cloak took on a similar mottled purple and black pattern.

"Move out." James gave the order to his Hazard Team, "Stay close, but not too close. Get in as quiet as you can, set the explosives, and get out. That's all. Neutralize any enemies quietly."

"Collins, you're with me," Chase said, turning to catch the eyes of the marine officer.  Her hands firmly gripping the twin grips of her rifle, Chase began to move sleathily away from the group.  According to her scans, the main computer core was several decks below her, through a mass of laboratories and fleet constuction areas.  The marine silently followed, covering the tactical officer, rifle at the ready with eyes constantly searching.

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

T'Kith'Kin Base,
Lower Levels

Upon materializing, Ensign Leger moved off silently through the T'Kith'Kin base, alone.  Blowing the fuel tanks was going to require a solo approach and a really quick exit.  After a few minutes of hugging the walls, darting in and out of shadows and a few ladder trips down ladders, a quick glance at his Combat Tricorder told him that he was moving in the right direction toward the Base Fuel Supply Tanks.  He smiled evilly, there was gonna be an explosion that would light up the sector for years to come.  He didn't know why, but explosions that he causes is such a relaxing pastime for him.  'Maybe I should start studying to be an explosives expert when I get back to the Miranda...' he thought to himself as he pocketed the tricorder.  That would defiantly be a plus.  Blow things up AND get paid for it.  A scream then interrupted his thoughts.  He turned toward the direction of the scream and saw nothing but a really dark corridor.  He glanced around for any signage and for and a single one over the corridor entrance written in the T'Kith'Kin Language.  A quick glance at the translator function of his tricorder told him what was down the hall in a single word.

"Interrogation eh?"  Leger peered into the blackness then tapped his commbadge. "Leger to Commander Darion." he whispered.

"Go ahead Ensign." Darion replied in an equally whispered voice.

Another scream from down the hall.  "I'm hearing some screaming coming from down a corridor I'm next to.  I'm going to check it out."

"Acknowledged Ensign.  Don't take too long."

"Wilco." Leger replied.  "Leger out." he said as he leveled his Phaser Rifle and proceeded into the darkness.

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

Hydran Base Section
Communications Section,
Communications Control Room

On separate beams of light, T'lan and Marsh arrived in the Hydran section of the base.

Marsh and T'lan eyescanned the interior of the Hydran designed communications center, a metal tower that stuck out like a mechanical eyepatch on the T'Kith'kin living space station. On this section, it was all Hydran, the species itself better at subspace communications technology. Blue and gray plating and grille floors dominated the scene, and as T'lan and Marsh tiptoed to the communications room, the floor plates clinked and scraped.  Softening their already light steps did not help.

Marsh silently waved a finger at the communications room. T'lan shuffled to the door and slung her rifle on her shoulder. Checking the door with a keen Vulcan ear, T'lan listened in for sound. She heard the clicks and whistled of machinery, but no Hydrans or T'Kith'kin. She then double checked for lifesigns with her tricorder, saw nothing, then waved Marsh closer.

Double tapping the trigger on the door, T'lan opened the inside of the communications room, while Marsh 'sweeped' his rifle from corner to corner. Nothing was inside.

The Communications room was a barren, austere place. Military Hydran blue overran the walls, and the floors were solid metal plates of gray. The computer consoles, representing the various segments of communications equipment, were situated on the farthest wall from the team, as well as a central 'island' in the middle of the room. The consoles were written in curved, clawlike symbols that only the visual Babel Fish program on their tricorders could decipher. The sole T'Kith'kin trait in the room was a arterial like tube that linked the consoles to a T'Kith'kin version of bio-neural circuitry.

"Nobody's home. What's the deal?" Lt. Marsh said.

"There appears to be no lifesigns in the vicinity." T'lan rechecked her tricorder. The tricorder confirmed her report. She rested the scanning device on the communications 'island' and unpacked her engineering kit.

"Hey T'lan, what are you doing?" Marsh whispered as he watched the door.

Marsh looked alert enough, seeing through iron sights. Even if that was the case, T'lan found him too distracted. "I am attempting to tap into the communications system. There are plenty of components that are... facinating." She breathed out the enraptured words, for she was lost in the details of the communications array, and did not appreciate Marsh interrupting her moment with the technological wonder. Her words stumbled; she caught herself in a moment of emotion! Her cheeks blushed green, and she recomposed herself. "The space station's communications systems are unique compared to the rest of the station. Purely a Hydran invention, with Tr'Kith'kin bioneural relays. I am unfamiliar with this setup."

"So, can you disrupt it?" Marsh inquisited.

"Perhaps." T'lan patiently explained, "We cannot just destroy the system with an explosion, or that would alert the Hydrans and T'Kith'kin. The communications array must be disabled before the other explosions take place, to minimize the chance of the station's inhabitants of warning their allies outside their station. To accomplish this task, I will disable their primary and secondary encryption module. Then, I will access the communications system by duplicating a Hydran's fingerprint and DNA analysis, which in turn I will need to bypass the input devices with a bio-to-binary program. Afterwards, I will insert a feedback loop into the communications array, send junk data throughout the communications network to simulate its usual use, and attempt to burn out the bio-neural circuitry. That is, however, a very brief description. I would be glad to describe it to you further if you..."

Marsh's head was already spinning. "No, my technical knowledge isn't as good as yours. I trust you can handle THAT, and I'll handle the dummy job of handling the door."

T'lan nodded her head. "Thank you, Lieutenant Marsh." She said with a sly Vulcan movement of the lips to signify gratification.

She caught herself again in a show of emotion! To her luck, Marsh was concentrating on the only way out, and didn't notice. T'lan went about her work.

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

Inside the T'Kith'Kin Base

Imanol rolled his head to one side whincing slightly at the loud cracking sound which accompanied the movement. Commander Darion was up ahead progressing with some amount of caution. Behind him lay the black cavernous corridor which disected the alien base. Imanol raised the beam of his rifle mounted flash light up the corridor to Darion's position. The beam highlighted the Commanders shape against the black backdrop.
 
"What an ass.." he announced playfully forgetting temporarily of the open channel he had with Darion. He grimaced as the Commander turned to confront him.
 
"One word, Ensign. Fiance," Darion said, giving him a look that suggested her irritance. ~For crying out loud, I have two kids.~
 
The two soldiers walked side by side in silence for a few moments until they reached an intersection in the corridors.
 
"Commander,we are being followed. Well, have been for the last ten minutes. Its not Hydran so I can only guess its something to do with the T'Kith'Kin defenses. Probably its immune system. She can't like having a bunch of aliens prancing around inside her."
 
"And you only told me now?" T'Chani asked, glancing around for a good place to hold out against the insectoid troops that were no doubt stalking their every move.
 
"I have an idea." Imanol whispered.
 
T'Chani walked down the right corridor and Imanol the left. Straffing into a cubby hole he waited for the entity to pass, which it did. Unable to locate the two intruders the entity continued down a series of corridors and entered a room. Imanol and the Commander followed and stood in awe at the enterance.
 
"Looks like.." Imanol ventured
 
"A Brain." the Commander replied.

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

Hydran/T'Kith'Kin Base
Command & Control, Hydran Section

Chase Remur had always wondered how birds perched on branches.  It had always been amazing.  The seemingly effortless balancing act that, despite all of the sudden movements of the avian, was never upset.  Now she finally had the understanding that she had so desired.  How did they do it?

Very, very carefully.

She was now balanced on an exposed beam overtop the Command & Control room of the Hydran/T'Kith'Kin base, looking down and trying to locate the computer terminal that would be easiest to get to and that would have the unlimited access that she required.  Behind her, 2nd Lieutenant Collins was squatting at the exit from the 'jeffries tube' that had lead them there.

Chase went over her goals.  1. Reach the computer terminal in the center of the room.  2. Hack the computer terminal in the center of the room.  3. Download the computer core to her expanded memory tricorder.  4. Active the base self destruct.  5. Move her ass to the exit and beam out.

Four of those goals would be easy.  Numero uno, not so much.

"Collins.  What do you make of it?  I'm seeing three Hydran Security Force officer and three T'Kith'Kin warriors.  Add to that the Hydran Base Commander, his T'Kith'Kin counterpart, and the cadre of analysts all gathered around that stratops table."

The room below was largely Hydran in nature, with T'Kith'Kin defense weapons, as their biological nature made them harder to take out with EMP weapons.

"Well, I could try to distract them while you go down there," the female marine offered.  Chase looked down again.  It was a lot for the two women to handle.

"That might just work. Here's the plan..."

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

T'Kith'Kin Base
Interrogation Room 1,
Primary Cell Block

Everything was a blur as Heather Owens was once again hauled through the corridors at near breakneck speed.  Her captors had informed her that it was time for yet another 'session'.  She had screamed of course and tried to make a run for it, but her fellow inmates happily pushed her back toward the wardens who then proceeded to hit her over the head and drag her off.  She knew in the back of her mind that the days ahead of her were short.  Tragic really, since she was only 18.  From the constant torture sessions, beatings from the guards and rapes from the inmates over the past 5 months, she was not going to last too much longer.  Heather had already endured her father's death back when her ship, the SS Halley, was taken by the T'Lith'Kin.  She watched her fiance get murdered by the inmates in the cell blocks just for trying to protect her, her mother and her sister.  Her mother was killed by the guards during a prison riot simply for being too close to the guards when they opened fire, and then saw her maternal sister get drug off by their captors, never to be returned. That had been the norm for many of the inmates, to be taken off to either be executed or forced to work in one of the T'Kith'Kin's dilithium mines.

It was her turn now, she figured, as the wardens strapped her down to a table.  They quickly stripped her of the tattered rags that had been her clothes ever since she was first brought here.  The wardens then snapped on the overhead light that shone right on her face and illumining her naked body.

"Prisoner 436726." a deep voice boomed from the darkness of the room.  Heather had since given up trying to see her captors in the darkness.  "State your name and position on the Federation Vessel SS Halley"

Heather whined. "Haven't we been through this enough times? Please just let me go." she pleaded.

"Prisoner 43726.  Answer the question."  a couple hundred volts of electricity then coursed through her body, causing her to arch her back and scream til her throat was raw.  Then just as sudden as it at started, it ended.  "Answer the question." the voice replied.

Tears welled up in her eyes, why wouldn't they just leave her alone and let her die?  "Heather Owens.  I-I was just a student archeologist on the ship.

"What were your orders?  Why were you sent to spy on us?"

"We weren't spies!" Heather cried.  The electricity came back and she screamed again.  'Oh God please save me...' she prayed.

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

Hydran/T'Kith'Kin Base
Command & Control,
Hydran Section

Chase stood perfectly still, trying to judge the distance.  She'd set upon her plan a few moments after they'd first started brainstorming.  It was crazy, but it could work.  Collins had moved over to one of the catwalks that ringed the room, silently eliminating the security guards on duty as only a marine could.

Collins was giving her the signal that meant she was ready.  It was now or never, Remur thought.  But it was so far away...  Oh fuck it...

She leapt from the beam she was balanced on, out, out, and away.  It occurred to her as she flew through the air that she was only continuing the bird parallel. Behind her, she could hear Collins throwing the grenades and opening fire with her rifle.

It was only when her hands snagged the cabling and her SpecOps gloves adhered themselves that she opened her eyes.  Swinging her body, she ripped the loose cable from the wall and began to plumet toward the deck, arcing toward on of the Hydran Security troopers.

As she continued her controlled fall, she dropped one hand to her hip, and in one swift motion cleared her phaser pistol from it's holster and flicked the safety off.  The Hydran turned and began to raise his rifle in a fruitless attempt to get a shot off.

Even as the three eyed alien was bringing his gun to bear, she was hitting the deck and rolling to come up on one knee.  By the time the security officer turned, he was already dead.

Springing to her feet, she dashed to the other side of the room, barely registering the noise of Collins, who was rapidly reducing the room to a crater.  The terminal, a scant ten meters from where she'd landed, was in reach.

She almost made it.

A T'Kith'Kin guard, ignored somehow in the total destruction wrought by Collins' assault on the Command & Control room, brought his shock rifle to bear, and fired a single shot before being obliterated by one of the falling grenades.

Unfortunately, Remur was in the path of the shot.  She took it high on her right shoulder, and was slammed to the ground by the impact.  Looking up, all she saw were explosions.

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

T'Kith'Kin Base
Outside the Interrogation Room,
Primary Cell Block.

Apparently God was listening for Heather's Salvation was standing right outside the door listening to her screams.  "My Lord..." he breathed as he heard the new batch of screaming began.  He quickly peered into the room through the small glass porthole in the door and saw a naked human female redhead being mercilessly tortured.  "Bastards!" he hissed himself as he tried the latch and it refused to open.  He tried throwing his shoulder into it, the door still refused to budge.  "Screw this..." He brought up the butt of his Phaser Rifle and smashed in the porthole glass.  He quickly got out two flashbangs and tossed them in before dropping to his knees and whipping out his tricorder.  He was rewarded with a bright flash overhead and the new cursing of the aliens that were inside.  Leger figured that the girl was too out of it to even be affected with that light shining in her face and what have you.  A few quick encryption commands and the door was swinging open.  He dropped the tricorder, let his rifle swing off of his shoulder and grabbed his mek'leth from behind his back. It was ass kicking time.

Leger kicked the door in the rest of the way right as the aliens inside were starting to regain something resembling their senses.  He wasted no time cleaving his way through the four aliens who were really ugly looking in his opinion.  In a matter of seconds, all four were lying dead on the deck leading out of their new cuts and wounds.  Leger slung his rifle back over his shoulder and retrieved his tricorder before he went to the woman on the table.  He quickly undid the straps holding her down and bent over the girl.  "Hey..." he said softly "Are you alright?"  he asked as she slowly looked at him in a daze. "I'm Ensign Jeremiah Leger of the USS Miranda Hazard Team."

Despite the pain, the girl actually smiled at him. "M-m-m-my K-knight..." she said softly.

"I'm sorry?"

"My knight in shining armor..." She said, looking a bit distant now.

Something moved out of the corner of Leger's eye.  Without thinking he whipped out one of his hip holstered Type II Phasers and shot.  The orange beam lashed out and caught one of the four aliens right in the head.  He had been trying to move toward the alarm switch on the wall nearby.  "LEGER REPORT!" Darion screamed into his ear, causing Leger to wince in pain.  "What's with the phaser fire!?"

"Sorry about that ma'am.  A T'Kith'Kin was going for the alarm button.  I'm in some sort of torture or interrogation chamber Commander." he said evenly.  Four aliens now dead.  There's a human woman here who the T'Lith'Kin were in the process of torturing."

"How is she?"

He took out his tricorder and ran it over her body.  "Commander she's in really bad shape." he said.  "I can do first aid, but she needs the facilities onboard the Miranda if she's going to live to see tomorrow."  Leger looked around for things to use to help the girl, at the very least to get her somewhat clothed.

"We can't afford to be rescuing people Ensign." Darion said, irritated.

"Like I'm going to just leave her here..." Leger commented dryly.  "Permission to beam her back to the Avalanche?"

"Granted.  Make it quick though. We can't risk detection."

"Copy. Leger out."  He said as he rummaged through his pack for the emergency hypo that was required for all members.  He pulled it out and set it for a seditive and injected the girl.  "You're going to be alright." he said as the girl drifted into sleep.  "You're going to be safe now."  He then wrapped her gently in a blanket and pulled out his tricorder to  instruct the Avalanche's computers to beam her out and into the passenger compartment so that they could take her back to the Miranda.  After it was set, he stepped back and watched as the Redhead disappeared in a beam of blue light.

Leger smiled in satisfaction.  At least some good can come from this.  At the very least, they just saved an innocent life on this station.  At the most, hell... they probably just gained someone who has loads of info on the T'Kith'Kin.  Or not... either way, Leger was going to sleep with a clear conscience tonight.

He hefted his Phaser Rifle and proceeded on to the Fuel Tanks.

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

Hydran/T'Kith'Kin Base
Command & Control,
Hydran Section

"... not sure if she's going to make it.  Sorry about the mess."

Chase came too a few moments later, dimly realizing that she'd blacked out.  She could faintly hear two female voices mumbling, but she could put words together.
 Then silence.  Blessed silence.  She was alive.  Then feeling returned, and she wished that it were otherwise.

Though it had only been a glancing blow, her shoulder was ripped wide open and a large chunk was missing, the flesh cauterized by the same attack.  Her arm felt like it was burning and freezing at the same time.

It seemed like an eternity before Collins' familar face came into focus abover her.  "Hey!  You need to wake up and do your thing before those Hydrans send somebody in after us.  Focus, damn it!"

Forcing herself into total consciousness, she thought for a moment.  "Help me up.  All I need to do is get over to the terminal and plug in.  After that, my programs should do what has to be done."

Dana Collins offered her arm to the fallen woman, carefully picking her up. Chase winced but ignored the pain that movement caused.  Letting Collins pull her right arm over her shoulders, they walked slowly over to the main terminal, it's pristine condition a stark contrast to the sheer devastation that was the rest of the room.  Collins was effective, that was definately true.

Plugging her tricorder, Chase began to type the commands into the database, her encryption busters blowing past the security locks and codes.  Though every movement of the fingers in her dominant hand tore at her pain receptors, she forced herself through the required strokes.

"How does it work?" Collins asked.

"I'm setting up a user profile for myself.  Hacking the personnel database was the simple part, since they don't expect somebody to go in this way.  So lets see.  I think I'll be Commander Br'oke'ns'yst'm today.   Make myself Base Commander.  Don't think he'll need his position anymore. Suddenly computer gives me access.  Oh wait, thats because the Base Commander gets total access to records.  Idiots."

[Initiating download, Commander.] the computer gurgled int he native tongue of the Hydrans.  Chase turned to her companion and grinned.  She then slumped to the floor, unconsious from shock.

"And it's that easy?"

"Yep. You just have to know how to write the programs. For example, I've written well over 200 viruses, most of which are variations of standard ones, which I can use to break in. I used number 152 this time. So how did I get shot?"

"There was a T'Kith'Kin guard hiding in a security booth on the far side of the room. He got off a shot before I hit him with a grenade," she said, then grinned, "There's not much left."

Chase winced again as she moved to enter a password, "Good. I wouldn't normally wish that on even my worst enemy, but until today, I hadn't been shot."

Fifteen minutes later, Collins hefted Remur's semi-aware body over her shoulder, turned on the self destruct using Remur's false profile, and requested beam out, holding the tricorder with her other hand.

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

T'Kith'Kin Base
Primary Fuel Tank Deck.

A few levels down and a couple of T'Kith'Kin slit throats later, Leger was at his objective: The Base Fuel Supply Tanks.  Leger looked into the massive room with a sense of awe.  The room in of itself was at least 10 decks high with a diameter that looked like it could fit an old Constitution Class Refit Saucer Section in it easily and still have room.  There were 10 tanks in all, arranged in a circle with various pumping and montoring stations all over the place to oversee operations down here.  The Fuel Tanks, he noted, were simply the tops. The rest extended out the bottom of the station to better service the T'Kith'Kin Warships that were now engaging the USS Miranda and the USS Galaxy.

No matter, soon the T'Kith'Kin would be out of gas.  Literally.

Leger quickly had a plan.  He just hoped the others were ready for it.  Glancing at his tricorder, he saw that transport out of this section would be virtually impossible with all the radiation and interference in the general area.  Leger figured on this from the get go, hense the reason why he brought his helmet along instead of simply leaving it on the Avalanche.  He put it on now and made sure that his suit was airtight.  He then engaged the personal oxygen that was connected in his backpack before removing the two black cylinders that he had shown to Commander Corgan and Darion earlier.  "Showtime." he said with a grin as he tapped his badge.  "Leger to Hazard Team.  Fire in the Hole.  Keep your heads down and try not to look at the bright flash."  then he added as an afterthough: "If you're not beaming out in the next 20 seconds, I highly recommend that you do so."

He then took a cylinder in each hand and slammed them down onto the deck hard, activiting half the chemicals inside along with the adhesive coating that would begin to ooze out of the white caps on either side of the black cylinder.  Leger then brought them straight up over his head and slammed them together hard to activate the remaining chemicals.  He then quickly chucked them as far as he could.  They flew across the room and landed within the center of the Fuel Tanks.  A far better throw than he could've hoped for.  Leger then picked up his Phaser Rifle, thumbed it to max power and blasted the nearest airlock that he saw.

The airlock blew off its hinges and the air howled all around as explosive decompression occured.  There were lots of shouts and cries of alarms as T'Kith'Kin everywhere were either being sucked out of the gaping hole that was now in the side of the station or were holding on for dear life to avoid being sucked out of said hole.  Leger ignored them all as he ran straight for the hole and leaped out into the cold vacuum.  The combination running/leaping and the explosive decompression served to propel him out into space at a very high speed, fast enough to avoid what was coming and to clear the interference that was blocking the transport out.  "So long sucker..." he said with sastifaction as the Avalanche's transporter beams whisked him away to saftey.  He materialized back in the hold of the Avalanche with the rest of his team plus the young woman he saved, who was still sleeping comfotably from the tranquilizer he gave her earlier.  He took off his helmet and sat down next to the girl before looking forward to the cockpit seeing that they were now speeding away from the T'Kith'Kin base, which was a good thing...

The bombs he planted blew a second later, followed by the fuel tanks...  When combined with the self destruct charges, the explosion engulfed the base... and the rest of the asteroid.  No trace was left.

Alvarez, Corgan, Marsh and T'lan materialized last. T'lan and Marsh had rifles aimed balefully at their last targets, while Corgan and Alvarez were on their knees, aiming. When they found themselves on the Avalanche, each of them breathed a sigh of relief.

"Right on time. Thank you." James smiled, "We just about had a Hydran battalion on our ass. How's everyone else?"

"Leger here, heavy one rescued hostage."  Jeremiah reported.  "Fuel tanks destroyed." he motioned toward the viewport "As if its not obvious." he said.
 "Rescued Hostage is stable, but she needs a sickbay to fully recover.  She's sleeping soundly now."

"Remur was hit with a disruptor when we hit the C&C. It took a nice chunk out of her shoulder," Dana Collins reported, glancing over to where the tactical officer was slumped against the wall, asleep, "Klein looked it over. She's sleeping it off. Should be fine."

"Thank god she's alright. I took a few of those myself. Not pleasant" James looked down on Remur's ashen face, "You'll be ok, Remur. You did well. I'm proud of you. We'll get a doctor to patch you up posthaste."

Chase nodded to acknowledge her CO before drifting back into unconsiousness.

"Good work team." He nodded, a smile on his face, "I'm proud of you all. Not bad for your first mission together. But if its all the same, i'd like to get back to the Galaxy. I'm worried about her."

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

USS Avalanche, Runabout
En Route to the USS Miranda and USS Galaxy

"Dear god..." Corgan breathed.

His wonder came as no surprise to anyone. On the Avalanche's readouts, the scanners detected multiple vessels converging on the Galaxy and the Miranda.

Hundreds of vessels.

The Breen even decided to swarm in.

"Christ!" Corgan cursed, "Get me back on the Galaxy now! She's taken a pounding. Just beam me through a hole in the shields. I have to get back on board now! Lieutenant Barnes, take over the Hazard Team."

"I have to co-ordinate the internal defenses of an entire starship. That is no easy task. I cannot lead both the Hazard Team and my entire security detatchment at the same time. Lieutenant Barnes, you'll have to do it for the time being. Don't let me down."

"Aye Sir"

"Alright. Hazard Team, assemble and prepare to move out. I'll put you on standby, respond to any gaps in our defenses. When can you guys beam us back on?"

Leger clambered up into the Avalanche's co-pilot's seat.  "We'll get you back on the Galaxy sir." He said, dropping into his element.  "If you want to keep the Miranda's Hazard Team here on the Avalanche and return to the Galaxy, I'll be more than happy to take over for your pilot here." he said.

"Then... lets do this." Corgan declared. "Ensign... beam us back on.

"Dancing With The Devil Under The Pale Starlight Redux" Part 2 of 3

(Takes place between the events of "Swept Away, Part II" and "Swept Away, Part III")

Principal Characters

Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff

Guest Appearances By

Captain Daren M'Kantu
Lt. Commander James Corgan
Lt. Ven'r Nong
Ensign T'Pol Hunter
Commander Ethan Suder
Flight Officer Angelienia
Lt. Shelley O'Rourke

****

Vanguard 11
Asteroid Belt
Approaching the Galaxy

Angelienia made a correction on the fly and fired off another microtorpedo ahead of her, the guidance systems kicking in and abruptly reversing itself to accelerate back past her, adding it's velocity to that of the Hydran fighter coming up behind the Federation fighter.

"Gotcha," the Ktarian pilot grinned ferally as the last of the Hydrans on her tail vanished in a crimson and silver flower of venting drive plasma and antimatter. "You should have stayed home and sucked whatever it is you breathe instead of messing with us!"

A quick glance at the instruments showed her that she was finally clear, and she goosed the afterburners to start her run on the Galaxy. Things had to be bad if command wanted a strafing run on their own ship, and if they were, she wasn't going to let them down. She made a looping run around an asteroid cluster, slipped between a pair of self-orbiting boulders the size of an old Federation tug, and lined up on the Galaxy.

The Secondary Hull looked... naked... without the saucer section. Incomplete. As incomplete as she was without the one man she'd ever wanted that had turned her down, the one that she burned for at night in her quarters, when she was alone. If he'd only see that they were made for each other, that they were... "Damn," she hissed, as another pair of fighters, these T'Kith'Kin, appeared on her screen.

She jinked to the left and then rolled right as they fired in tandem, the bio-plasma searing past her. "I hope they've got someone else working on those demolition teams!"

****

USS Galaxy-A
Secondary Hull
Exterior Hull

Grey's handiwork performed as expected again. Not that Victor had possessed any doubts now, as before. If Grey said it worked, then it worked. She didn't make mistakes like that.

The life support field left Victor's field of vision free, and for that alone it was worth the risk. The starfield and battle around him spread out in a way that no suited individual could perceive, presented as if it - and he - were on the surface of a planet and unencumbered by the need to carry his own atmosphere with him.

With a frown, he turned away from the battle and concentrated on the task at hand. He'd replicated the correct equipment for the job, and he had no doubts that it would perform as desired, but he'd never shot under these conditions before. It took a moment to locate a good position, and he finally chose a section of hull plating that had been twisted up and warped by a hit from one of the enemy's weapons as suitable.

That done, it took only a moment to work out the best position to shoot from: one foot on the hull, and the other braced on the bent up, twisted plating. He couldn't have stood like this in a gravity well, but here, outside the ship, he was not so limited.

He lifted the rifle, sighted in slowly on the port nacelle's base - the one farthest from the approaching fighter's side - and let out his breath in a slow hiss.

****

USS Galaxy-A
Secondary Hull, Deck 8
Battle Bridge

There were supposed to be four, 8-Ball was certain of that. Each of the Hydran demolitions teams had possessed *four* members when they'd arrived. She'd checked that to be certain. So why then, were there only three members in the team on the port nacelle?

She scowled in a decidedly un-Vulcan manner at the screen and turned back to her instruments to recheck them. When she looked up again, there were only *two* Hydrans at the port nacelle.

She blinked, and examined her instruments again, and this time, a moment later, say the third Hydran vanish out of the corner of her eye. One moment the methane-breathing turnip was there, and the next it was gone, struck by some unseen force that broke the alien's magboot connection to the hull and swept it out into space in a blur, as if the Hand of God had swatted it like she might swat one of the flies that had populated the Big Man's bar in her youth.

Without thinking, her observational training took over and she narrowed the focus of the screen to cover the lone Hydran there as he turned, finally aware that something was wrong.

This time, she saw what happened.

It was a kinetic impact, that much was unmistakable. Some projectile struck the Hydran from the front and ripped through him, armored suit and all, to exit out the back, a flash-frozen spike of methane and biological material erupting out of the suit to mark its wake. The Hydran's magboots, apparently not designed for an impact of the sort they had just been asked to contain, failed instantly and sent the carcass spinning off into the void.

"Port nacelle demolitions team eliminated, sir," she heard herself repeat mechanically as her hands ran a computation to figure out the power of the impact.

"Thank you, Ensign," Daren nodded. "Keep me updated."

"Yes, sir." 8-Ball wondered if it would be that quick when the enemy finally got a beam through and destroyed the Battle Bridge around her. Then, in a moment of pure Vulcan raised eyebrow expression that would irritate her later when she reviewed the logs she stared at the readout as her answer was displayed: <Impact rated in excess of 10,000 foot-pounds.>

Well, if that wasn't the Hand of God, it would certainly do until the real thing came along.

****

USS Galaxy-A
Secondary Hull
Exterior Hull

Victor winced as he recovered from the final shot. He'd been prepared for the recoil, had done what he could to minimize the effects that zero-g would have on it... but the torque generated by the rifle when it fired was something else again. The first shot had almost thrown him off into space despite the magboots, and had wrenched him over in a pivoting motion so far under its impetus that he'd undone some of the healing the past two days had allowed his ribs to do.

The second and subsequent shots had been better once he'd known what to prepare for, but the dull ache in his side told him that he wasn't doing himself any favors by continuing to fire. As the last of the crew working on the port nacelle was flung into space, he turned and sighted in on the set at the middle nacelle.

With luck, he'd get all of them before the set on the starboard nacelle located and killed him.

****

Vanguard 11
Asteroid Belt
Approaching the Galaxy

"That," Angelienia spat as another near-miss scored the hull of her fighter, "Is enough of that!" She slipped between two bolts of bio-plasma, jammed on her tractors and locked them to a pair of nearby asteroids to keep her fighter from crashing into anything, and then spun her fighter end-over-end, and started firing as soon as the first T'Kith'Kin ship came into view.

The first ship took the brunt of the volley, biological armor burning away until it failed and the craft vanished in a wave of vaporized tissue and expanding energy. The second, realizing the danger it was in, broke off and used a small asteroid for cover as it tried to line up a shot on her fighter.

"It's not that easy," Angelienia hissed, as she used the tractor locks on the asteroids to throw herself into a turn that had her inertial compensators screaming, firing again - this time at the asteroid itself.

The impact wasn't enough to destroy the stony mass, but it did kick up a cloud of debris and shift it fractionally - which was what she'd wanted. The T'Kith'Kin fighter swept out from behind the asteroid, directly into the cloud of debris, which flared up in ten thousand bursts of light as the fighter's shields neutralized them... ten thousand bursts of light that distracted the pilot for the fraction of a second needed for the pilot to misjudge his altitude and clip the asteroid.

The T'Kith'Kin ship spun out erratically from the impact, caromed off of another asteroid, and finally flew dead on into a third one, vanishing in a burst of light and expanding debris.

"You mess with the best, you die like the rest," the Federation pilot crowed as she canceled the tractors and spun her craft back over on course for the Galaxy. "Vanguard 11 to Galaxy. Had to shake some unwanted company, but I'm on track for my run now," she reported as she picked up speed. "Can you give me updated sensor feed?"

****

USS Galaxy-A
Secondary Hull, Deck 8
Battle Bridge

"Dorsal Nacelle demolitions team eliminated." 8-Ball was proud of herself for not pumping her arm in victory. Whatever Ella's Mr. Bo-Peep-Scary-Man was doing - and she had no doubt it was him - he'd cleared two-thirds of the demolitions teams already.

Daren again nodded without looking up. "Thank you, Ensign Hunter. Mr. Nong, update the incoming fighter please."

"Aye, sir." Nong patched the sensor feed straight in to Vanguard 11 as it rolled and spun through the chaos of the battle.

8-Ball frowned as the half of the last demolitions team on her screen turned and began firing aft. "Scary... Security element now taking fire from remaining Hydrans," she reported with a calm she didn't feel.

****

USS Galaxy-A
Secondary Hull
Exterior Hull

He'd actually done better than he'd expected to; better, in fact, than he'd had any right to expect, Victor reflected. He'd managed to completely eliminate two of the three teams before they'd figured out what was happening and located him, primarily because they probably hadn't been subjected to kinetic weapons fire in their lives, and hadn't trained for it. Only an idiot wouldn't figure it out after enough people were killed, though, especially with all the impacts coming from the same direction.

Sadly, the Hydrans now shooting at him were not idiots.

Their hand weapons appeared to be smaller versions of the fusion beams that they deployed on their ships, which made sense. Most starfaring races simply scaled the energy weapons they mounted on their starships down for use as antipersonnel weapons by their troops. The Orions were an exception, since they seemed to mount whatever struck their fancy on their ships, and armed themselves the same way, but one had to expect that from a race of pirates.

Of course, considering that this entire mission had apparently been a set-up so that the Hydrans and T'Kith'Kin could capture the Galaxy and Miranda, that made them pirates too - just more uniformly armed ones.

Another fusion beam scorched the deck plating he'd formerly been braced against, and Victor frowned as he tried to recall what he knew about the weapons. Assuming that they performed roughly according to the specifications most races aimed for in their general purpose antipersonnel weapons, they'd have enough charges to keep him pinned down until the explosives were detonated. They likely had no stun settings, given their reliance on fused plasma as a damaging medium, and possibly had only a limited number of other settings besides the basic weapon function.

None of which helped him in the slightest.

He checked the rifle even though he knew he'd already reloaded it, and nodded to himself. If nothing else happened, he'd have to risk exposing himself to make the shot. He'd only be able to take one of the Hydrans down, so it would have to be the one planting the charges. With luck, that would buy the M'Kantu the time he needed to get another team out on the hull to finish the job he'd started.

He allowed himself one last look at the stars, bounced on his feet once, and then started to move.

****

Vanguard 11
Asteroid Belt
Approaching the Galaxy

Vanguard 11 slipped under a bio-plasmic beam intended for the Galaxy with a sideways drift, rolled to port to avoid some debris that appeared to be from part of one of the smaller Hydran capitol ships' hull, and lined up for it's final run on the Galaxy.

"Vanguard 11 in position and commencing my run," Angelienia snapped out tersely, eyes on her scanners. "Updated data loading now."

"Roger that Eleven," Lieutenant Nong's voice responded. "Be advised that an element from Security has eliminated two of the three demolitions teams. Your targeting information has been updated to reflect the need to only strafe the starboard nacelle's base."

"Roger that." She made a small adjustment to her course and plotted a different vector past the ship to reflect the new information. Whoever it was Security had sent out, they were doing a good job... she stopped, a sudden chill running through her as she realized for the first time that one of the people most likely to go on an assignment like that was the man she lay awake at night and burned for. He could already be dead, his body floating out into the blackness surrounding her fighter, his arms forever denied to her.

No. No, she couldn't think that now, she couldn't. Nothing would happen to him, nothing could happen to him. He was hers, and nothing was going to come between them, nothing. Not that mousy engineer, not the methane-sucking turnips or the bugs trying to kill them. Nothing.

Her eyes narrowed. Victor could be on the Saucer section or the Stardrive; she didn't know - and it didn't matter. She would fly her best, better than her best, and when she was done there would be no threat left that could hurt him, nothing to keep them apart.

The Stardrive hull loomed up in her viewport, black scars where the hull was twisted and torn by incoming fire marring the gleaming white of the hull. Ahead, near the target area, she caught a hint of small-arms fire, red beams lancing out from the pylon as her reverse thrusters fired to slow her pass and make targeting more accurate. Precisely two seconds later she depressed her firing controls and watched a new set of black streaks appear on the Galaxy's hull as her phasers sliced through the Hydran formation.

"Shhh...we're hunting bio-mines" Pt 4

by
Lt Cernu K'rn - Asst Chief Science Officer, Biotec/Subspace specialist
Lt jg Phoebe Ivers - Science Officer, Subspace specialist
Lt jg Klaus Fienberg - Medical Officer, Neurocyber specialist
Ens 'Nara Sol - Engineering Officer, Tactical Systems specialist
Ens Ry'shan H'hanna - Medical Officer, Xeno-Biology specialist
Ens Tarin Iniara - Operations/Engineering Officer, Backup Telepath

Cernu stood to one side, examining the data Vr'lu gleaned from the Starfleet equipment as it communicated with his various cores through the biotech buffer they had created. The mine, where it floated suspended in the isolation field above the central circular console, was interesting despite the unholy union of biotech and hardtech.

Using a very primitive version of Vr'lu's dimensional-drive each mine seemed to create a subspace field similar to the Umbral Sargasso, the subspace anomaly that spread for lightyears in all directions from the Nebula his people had evolved in. This field prevented the formation of 'warp' drive fields and any subspace-using drive system. It also inhibited the function of isolinear systems and subsystems.

So in essence, Starfleet and Federation vessels would be rendered inoperative with the field entirely while Qlrn, Breen and T'kith'kin ships would be unaffected. A nice bit of information to know.

But how it did this and how they replaced themselves was what his team was researching even now. For after the third attempt to transport a mine had finally succeeded without destroying itself in transit, a new mine had materialized wihin moments in the same place. And this field was immense, completely encapsulating Breen space in a subspace barrier. A feat of truly apocryphal proportion.

Phoebe Ivers reached into a small pocket on her uniform and produced... a pair of glasses. She wore them sometimes, because her eyes weren't as good as they should be. And she was allergice to the usualy form of treatment for the slight nearsightedness that affected her. It only bothered her after she'd been looking at monitors all day, or in areas of dim, or overly bright lighting; and then it was time pull out the little, round-lensed, wire framed glasses that she soon slid up her long nose.

With the glasses firmly in their place, Phoebe bent over a screen- or what would be a screen on a bioship, and looked at the readings. She cursed the fact that she was not a telepath- it would be so much easier if she could just shoot a thought to K'rn, or Nara, or to Vr'lu itself. But she was stuck with her mouth, and her husky, heavily accented voice to communicate her ideas.

"Considering we are dealing with biotech, perhaps the solution as to how these things replicate could be found in Vr'lu." she said. "How do your bioships reproduce themselves, Lieutenant; or do they ?" she turned her bespectacled face on Cernu K'rn.

Nara nearly snickered at Phoebe's half-question. Her split second of imaturity passing, she looked about the ship and wondered. She had supposed there were inner parts of such ships it's boarders were not allowed. It HAD to have some places for typical inner organs and other ananomical features. She shook her head at her imagination creating an image of two of them mating and wishing she wasn't on board when they did. If they did.

~Our bioships reproduce themselves in much the same way that you or I would lieutenant~ Cernu seemed somewhat amused by the question ~When it is time they select mates and perform the necessary, what does Vr'lu call it, 'docking maneuvers'?~

Nara had another lapse of imaturity and turned away from the others composing herself from laughter.

"I believe the self-replcation of these mines to be our first problem." Phoebe said. "If we can do something to stop that, we wont have to worry about new mines popping up when bring the others down."

"Make them infertile." Nara mumbled. She slowly paced around looking at the mine as her thoughts processed. Nara stopped in her steps, "Or maybe whoever made these mines are simply transporting new ones in as we take them down?" Nara didn't think that was it, but it was something to mention. Her mind went back to thinking how they possibly reproduced either sexually or asexually. And then how to stop it. She thought back to what made other species infertile. Diseases, age, etc.

Phoebe rose a finger, gesturing to Nara. "Bloody good." she responded. "Now, how do we do that ?" her dark eyes moved to the medical officers aboard; Ry'shan and Klaus. "How do these things reproduce ? If it is sexually, then they'd need time to mate, and for the fetal carrier to go through gestation, and give birth. Gestation might be very rapid, but not as quickly, I would think, as we saw that mine appear to replace our... guest, here. So, I'm putting my ten schilling's worth on asexual reproduction. How do we shut that down ?"

"If the mines are truly self-replicating, we would have to destroy the entire minefield at once. Not an easy task," Iniara observed. "But, if new mines are being transported in from an outside location-the enemy base most likely-our task may be slightly easier. If that is the case, then once the Hazard Teams take the base out, new mines will stop appearing to replace the ones we destroy. Theoretically." Her thoughts turned to that mission, one she would have been on had she not been assigned here instead. She wondered how the two teams were doing.

~I disagree though it is a good suggestion~ Cernu told them ~I feel that disarming their ability to produce the subspace effect is of gravest concern for our timetable has become hours, from days. However once done, it matters not how many of them there are. This will removed the threat to our allies most efficiently while merely eliminating their reproduction does nothing to handle the actual effect they cause. If you remove the venom from the serpent's species, then the serpent becomes harmless as do all of it's progeny~

Nara looked at the mine intently. She had an idea. Likely a bad one. She wondered if there was a safe way to destroy all the mines at once. She didn't voice this because she needed more detail in her head first.

"You'd make a good Vulcan, and I mean that quite lovingly, after all." Phoebe said. She was a different person when she was working. Phoebe didn't have much of a social life, not anymore, at any rate. And she loved her work. Where she seemed to plod through the day when she was off duty, she took on a vigour that coupled itself with a wry sence of humor when she was 'on the job'. "But, the self-reproduction is a problem depending on how we go about disabling their effects." she continued "If we disable this batch, only to be twarted by a new generation of mines- like some kind of Borg 'adaption', we'll definitely be in trouble. What about turning the mines' function to our advantage. What if we could find a way to not only neutralize the mines' effects on the Galaxy and the Miranda, but also use them, to somehow curtail the advance of our enemies ?"

"Can't we just kill them?" Iniara suggested. "The living parts, I mean," she added after a moment. Such sophisticated machinery was not her specialty at all, but she thought it might work. "The biological components of the mines are integral in some way I can't understand, but they are just living tissue. Living tissue that can be destroyed by any number of means-weaponry, disease, aging. Of course, I'm not sure how we would disable an entire minefield in that manner without physically touching each individual mine. Maybe disabling the technological components." Her voice trailed off as she tried to wrap her brain around the problem.

"So, the problem at hand is- how do we disable them, or get control of them." Phoebe pushed her glasses up on her nose, and returned to her monitor. It was showing the result of an internal scan of the mine. There wasn't much there that Phoebe understood. She was a virtual virgin to biotechnology, with Vr'lu being her first experience aboard any vessel that was not all metals and alloys and isolinear chips.

"Lieutenant K'rn, I presume you can see, in your mind, anything Vr'lu can show us on these monitors." she said. "What do you make of this scan ?"

~The organism itself seems to be fairly straightforward in that like Vr'lu, it derives energy from radiogenic sources~ Cern observed, shutting his eyes to *see* what Vr'lu was showing him. ~In effect, it is a very efficient 'plant' ::amusement:: though, there appears to be a neural linkage here and here~ he caused the sensor diagram to highlight the connections ~that seem to connect to the cybernetic components in a way I do not understand. *This* though~ he hightlighted a biological node ~is a rather primitive subspace transceiver~

Cernu cocked his head and opening his eyes came over to regard the mine floating in the containment field. Turning to Phoebe suddenly he asked ~Any device that generated a subspace field runs the risk of collapse correct? And thus is must have a certain program flexibility to adapt?~

~Bad Trip, Part III~
"Heat Delusions"

Lieutenant Cutter Kara'nin
Lieutenant Curtis Geluf
Lieutenant Corran Rex
Lieutenant Ella Grey

Ella stood and tilted her head. She didn't feel like she was about to keel over, at least not from the water. The heat on the other hand...

She unzipped her jacket but left it on. No use getting any major degree sunburns just yet. ~~Do you think we could throw together some sort of makeshift tent, Professor?~~

Curtis looked at Ella for a moment, shades of red already beginning to manifest on her face, "Could we? Yes." he said, looking up at the horizon. He had a slight headache, but from what, he didn't know, "Should we? No. Probably not. We can't stay out here. A tent won't stop us from roasting to death."

Ella sighed and signed another question.

"Some of the shuttle's functions were still operating." Curtis replied, "The sensors indicated a small mountainous region about 15 kilometers to the east." he pointed to emphasize, "See? You can just make them....."

The officer stopped in mid-sentence.

Ella tilted her head, and Corran brought his head up to try to focus on what Geluf was saying. He was having a horrible time concentrating for some reason.

"It's just...well, a minute or so ago I could barely see those hills. And now....well...now they're a whole lot clearer." Curtis explained, "Maybe my headache is worse than I thought."

"There's sand in the air," Cutter said, his voice tired and disinterested, "but that rock outcropping is clearly visible from here." He stared forward for a moment, then looked at his collegues and with a sudden air of supiority, as if discovering that a child could not yet read, "Oh, right, human eyes."

The engineer frowned at both of them.

"No need to worry, I'll be fine." The Kerelian reassured her. "Anyway, our best bet is to head that way, and hope we can find a cave or something. But we'd better act fast."

"Yeah." Corran managed to get out. "Yeah, that might not be a bad plan. I'm feeling pretty woozy - I think the heat might be getting to me. What about you, Cutter?"

"I'm not nauseous, but tarsiti i shikisha is exausting," the scientist said, using words that likely held no translation in Federation standard. Fruna was a warmer world than earth, so his species was a little better accustomed to heat than most others. Cutter himself was much more of a southern man, though, having grown up nearer to the arctic regions; he wasn't coping with his heat very well, either.

"You're probably dehydrated."

"I don't know." the Trill said with great difficulty. "It's.. .it's hard to think."

"You're dehydrated," Cutter said again with certainty, "You should be more self aware." Rex nodded and took a swallow from the canteen he carried.

Ella pointed towards the mountains. ~~Let's get going.~~

****

Despite the heat, Ella was otherwise feeling fine. She looked back again at the other three officers behind her. ~~Need to take a break?~~

Curtis, out of necessity, translated her statement, and the Trill nodded.

"Yeah." Corran replied. "Yeah, I need to sit down. Too much time in a cockpit, maybe, not enough PT." he replied weakly. "You seem.. more than fine, though."

She shrugged. ~~I just feel energized. Maybe we should go back and take some of that cactus juice to sell later on. Could make agreat energy drink... at least for humans. Would you ask Cutter if he's all right? He looks a bit pale.~~

"Yes, lets just keep moving!" Cutter snapped as the Kerelian opened his mouth to speak and continued to walk ahead.

"What?" Curtis asked, eyeing the avian curiously. He was hunched slightly, his face red and breathing fairly heavily. He was clearly exausted. Ella, on the other hand, stood straight and seemed to be the most physically fit of them all. She, too, was examining Cutter, puzzled over his unprompted outburst.

"What?" Now Cutter himself was curious, as if even he wasn't quite sure what he had said.

"Um, she, uh, she wants to know if you're all right," Curtis translated.

"Yes, lets just keep moving!" he snapped again, harsher this time for having to repeat himself. "The sooner we find shade, the better."

Corran's head started swimming shortly after his response, so he never heard what Geluf said to the Avian officer. As he moved towards a rock to try to sit on, he discovered that his body had decided falling face first into the sand would be a more economical use of his time.

Pain wracked the Trill's head, but even more concernedly, he found that the steady pain was in his symbiote pouch as well. As Ella rushed to the fallen officer and turned him over - ostensibly to get his face out of the sand so he good breath, smart girl, that one - Corran found the pain was so great he couldn't focus.

The engineer unstoppered another bottle of cactus water, and all but forced it down Corran's throat. A few minutes passed, and he sputtered, and reopened his eyes.

All trace of his prior fatigue was gone - as was the pain. He sent thoughts down to Rex, who replied in an oddly familiar manner -one he hadn't experienced for years. Searching the confines of his own mind, Corran found, with more than a little astonishment, that he was more or less alone.

It was like when he'd first been joined, before T'rex's Syndrome had caused the separation of all his hosts personalities. He felt like a completely different man. He was still Corran, but more importantly, he was Rex. He wasn't Vorrin, he wasn't Baledra, he wasn't Mekaela,or any of the others - just Rex, a unified whole with more than ten lifetimes of experience.

And a single voice inside of his mind. Taking the cactus water from Grey, he turned it over in his hand. "How remarkable.." he murmured, trying to come to grips with what had just occurred.

"What's that?" Curtis asked, given Ella's puzzled expression.

"I'm.. " Rex found it hard to even say it. "I'm whole. Gods!" he proclaimed in an excited tone. "I.. don't know how to explain it. But my Syndrome- it's gone!"

Geluf raised a critical eyebrow even as he winced at the sound level of the Trill's outburst. "No voices?"

"No voices!" he replied, happier than he could remember being in quite some time. T'Rex's Syndrome would have caused Corran to be Rex's last host, and then all those lifetimes of expereinces would havebeen lost - one of the worst fates to any of the joined Trill. "It's just me. Just Rex."

Ella looked critically at Rex and then turned back to Curtis. ~~How's your vision now, Professor?~~

"I can't explain it..." the Kerelian said, "Kerelians, as a rule, have worse vision than even humans do. All that hearing you know, weakens the other senses. Only I can see like I've never been able to see before. Everything is so clear, even from far away. Its giving me a headache. There's a tingling feeling all over...like I can feel the air...but its so much more than that....I....can't explain it."

She looked at Cutter.

And he studied her. "I think those cactii might be secreting a hallucinogen. Curtis sounds like he's taken ketsilhon."

~~I dont like this.~~ She signed.

Cutter perked up his blue feather brow at the hand signals and glanced at Curtis, who was clearly not paying attention and wasstaring at his hands. Looking back at Ella, he replied, "I have no idea what you're trying to say."

Ella shrugged.

Curtis was awash in a feild of senses. The air he had been feeling so acutely only a few hours or so before had slowly begun to intensify its sensation...almost to the point of pain. His eyes had been dialating like mad, soaking in more and more light, causing his head to throb and his vision to see beyond anything he had ever imagined. He was becoming increasingly aware of the smell of the desert, small aromas from all around...he could pinpoint them.

But most of all...he could suddenly hear more things than ever. His already super evolved ears seemed to increase their sensitivity ten times over. He knew exactly what was going on in places miles away. The sound of the wind rushing past was stinging.

"Its...its all so......clear..." Curtis held his head, attempting to stop the throbbing.

Ella gave him a concerned look.

"Do you know how long we've been in the sun?" Cutter asked Ella, jerking her attention back to the larger problem. She shrugged again,then thought about it for a moment. She held up her hand, four, then switched, five.

"We need to find shade," he repeated, unnessecarily, "That rock outcroping is our best chance. It's likely not more than another hour's walk away. We should move on. We can worry about them when we get there."

Ella's face grew more concerned. She looked back at the other two trekkers, then nodded. Ella had to go and physically push Curtis into moving again.

Cutter had started walking ahead, leaving the other three behind.

~~Asshole.~~ Ella signed at his back.

"Cavalry Charge"
Captain Elaithin Jii

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

Bridge,
Federation Starship Miranda,
Primary Hull

The bridge of the Miranda, like much of the vessel herself, was in sad shape indeed. Half the consoles were out, along with a generous portion of the lighting. There wasn't much fight left in the old girl.

The tertiary hull was destroyed, and Jii could only pray to the Prophets that Jordan - and the rest of the crew - had made it off in time. They'd starte dpicking up lifepods and beaming them into the shuttlebay, through carefully controlled lapses in the now very nearly nonexistant shields. The secondary was in more or less the same shape they were - the phaser cannon was almost as efficient in dealing with threats as the Hyrdan's Hellbore blasts.

A collision with the deck had left a dark red smear of on the side of the Bajoran's cheek. "Rayna, weapons?"

"Torepedo complement exhaused. We've still got boarders, but security teams and force fields - where they're working - seem to be confining them to the lower decks. Multiple casualty reports. Forward phasers, both ventral and dorsal are still functional, but we've only got one aft. Port pulse cannon is shot, and the starboard one's only got a few more shots left in her."

"Damn." he heard Jack mutter.

"It'll have to be enough. We keep fighting as long as we need to. We'll get out there and throw stones, if necessarry." Elaithin grimly replied.

"Captain," the science officer who's name he couldn't remember spoke up. "reading changes in local subspace."

"What kind of changes?" Jii asked, his head snapping around at the news.

"The interdiction field - it's gone. We're home free." the young officer replied with a visible jubilation.

"Not without our people, we're not." the Captain answered. "Jack. Get every escape pod out there, and order the secondary hull to do the same. Miranda to Galaxy-Two."

["M'Kantu here."]

"Darren, the interdiction field is down. Gather any EVA craft and personell you have, and let's get the hell out of here."

["Best news I've had all day, Jii. Galaxy out."]

"I couldn't agree more." the Captian replied to himself, before he saw the look on the science officer's face. "Ensign, don't tell me the field's back up."

"No sir - it's not. I just picked up two subspace waves."

"Well, Prophets, man, what is it already?"

The young officer practically beamed. "It's the 12th Fleet."

"Hot damn." Jii muttered, and broke into a smile himself. "The cavalry's here at last. Put it onscreen."

The flickering screen switched displays immediately, and the Bajoran could only sigh in relief as one hundred and eight additional starships entered from both sides of the system.

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

Bridge,
Federation Starship Anduril

Captain Seamus Murdock couldn't contain his grin as the Fleet finally broke through. It altered a moment as he saw the tactical readouts - only two of Miranda's hulls were present, and there were numerous escape pods, fighters, runabouts, and shuttles all over the place. Galaxy was split in twain as well, and the stardrive had already lost it's central nacelle.

"Launch squadrons." the Captain ordered even as tactical orders came in from the Admiral.

["All fighters, close-quarters cover for the Miranda and the Galaxy."] came the voice of deMercereau. ["Anduril, Texas, Icarus, Pendragon, Arizona, Atlantis. Take up defensive positions around the Miranda's hulls. Remora, K'Hotan, Sovereign, Stargazer, Protector, Valiant, defensive postions around the Galaxy's. Everyone else, good hunting."]

"You heard the lady." Murdock ordered. "No one gets close to those ships.
Bring all wepaons to bear on anything that so much as looks at 'em crosswise. No other Starfleet personell are going to die today."

"Yes, sir!" the tactical officer replied, and began locking onto targets even as the conn officer slipped them into a defensive posture.

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

Bridge,
Federation Starship Miranda

["Relentless to Miranda."] came the recognizable voice of Irene deMercerau over the comm.

"Good to see you, Admiral." Jii replied. "Sorry we had to start the party without you."

["I don't doubt it, Captain. Put your ship together, and pick up all your people. We'll take care of the rest."]

"I find that perfectly acceptable. And Admiral ?"

["Yes?"]

"When we get back to dock, the drinks are on me."

["I'll hold you to that, Captain. Relentless out."]

"Allright." Elaithin clapped his hands together. "Let's get this taken care of. Hail the secondary hull, initiate docking maneuvers. Keep pulling in escape pods, and recall our fighters. Let's get these boarders taken care of - and let's try to take a few prisoners. I want to ask them a few questions."

It was a whole new game now, he thought as he watched the force of the 12th Fleet being unleashed on the hyrdans, T'Kith'Kin, and those Breen who had regained control of themselves.

A whole new game, indeed.

"A Time to Fight"
by Flight Officer Jasmine "Jazz" Heloi
Vanguard Flight Exec

Space erupted in blasts of gold, amber, silver, turquoise, and violet as the myriad weapons of Starfleet, the Hydrans, and the T'Kith'Kin Hive intermingled. Between these blasts, darting in like annoying flies to harass the larger vessels, Vanguard Squadron harried the enemy. Here two fighters chased down two Hydran enemy craft. There, a single Vanguard faced off against a single enemy vessel in a parody of a showdown at high noon. Despite the external distractions, Jasmine "Jazz" Heloi narrowed her eyes upon her target. In space, the saying went, no one could hear one scream.

She intended the enemy to do the screaming. As she cut in close to one of the mother ships, chasing down the Hydran that had seared her earlier, sudden alarms echoed through the cockpit. Her modified sensors had picked up destabilization in the Miranda III's warp core. It was going critical. Eying her position, she broke off her chase of the Hydran to avoid the blast radius of what was sure to be a massive explosion. Her soul might belong to acting, but her heart had always been in engineering. She winced as the one mighty ship was reduced to nothing more than a spreading debris field. However, it was a fitting ending to continue the fight against an invasion force.

"Jazz to Vanguard. Vanguards Five through Ten deploy in protective positions around the escape pods. I don't want them to start shooting practice on them. The rest of you, continue harrying the enemy. Jazz out." Jasmine banked hard as a T'Kith'Kin fighter screamed towards her, it's every weapon blazing. Thankfully, the new Banzai class could easily withstand the blasts  though her shields were the worse for wear after the course of the fight. Eyeing her scopes, she brought herself into a turn to blaze after them. With a feral grin, she hit her weapons fire and a few more blasts of light erupted through space towards the enemy.

This, she knew, was what fun was all about.

Just as another enemy fighter burst into a blaze of fire, space erupted again. Only, this time, it erupted with the arrival of the cavalry. The 12th fleet had arrived. Now, all that was left was mop up duty. With the recall light gleaming on her dash, Jasmine turned her fighter back towards the Galaxy, and home. As the focus of the firefight left her, she realized with a sudden pang that she had no idea how the Rogues had faired. With a few touches on the console, she relaxed.

Now, it was time to heal.

"Riding The Avalanche"

Ensign Jeremiah Leger,
USS Miranda Hazard Team Member

Ensign Leger watched as Commander Corgan and the rest of the Galaxy's Hazard Team beamed out to their home ship to help defend her. That just left the four from the Miranda plus the young girl he had rescued from the T'Kith'Kin Asteroid right before it was turned into space dust. ~Wonder what she was doing there in the first place?~ he wondered, taking a quick glance to the back where the Redhead slept peacefully. Commander Darion, and the rest of his squad were back there as well, hanging on for dear life.

~Well... I jumped into the seat, might as well ride it out...~ he thought, turning back to the controls. Looking out the viewport offered a reall grim view. T'Kith'Kin and Hydran starships and fighters were locked in mortal combat with the Miranda and the Galaxy. A nacelle had been ripped off of the Galaxy and the Tertiary Hull of the Miranda had since gone up in smoke. Life Pods from both sides were either drifting dead in space or trying to get clear of the carnage. Leger made the decision to hang near the life pods to protect them until one side was the clear winner. He boosted power to the runabout's shields and rolled with the punches. With any luck, he could make the Avalanche look inconspicious enough for the enemy to leave them alone.

That turned out to be a moot point. Suddenly the 12th fleet dropped out of warp and started laying into the T'Kith'Kin and the Hydrans. Leger smiled and called to the rest of the Hazard Team to come look as the 12th Fleet's fighters and ships moved to protect them all.

"Looks like we're all going home alive after all..." Leger said with a big grin on his face.

"Into the Valley of Death"

Captain Juan Holmes
Commanding Officer, USS Icarus

Commander Ares Khoma
Executive Officer, USS Icarus

Lieutenant Commander Gavyn Hughes
Chief Tactical Officer, USS Icarus

Lieutenant Rhiannon Smyth
Chief Flight Control Officer, USS Icarus

Lieutenant Commnder Jakob Durden
Chief Engineer, USS Icarus

Staff Lieutenant Tom Knight
Strategic Operations Officer, USS Icarus

Major Norax Taldren
Fighter Group Commander, USS Icarus

--Main Bridge, USS Icarus--

Holmes watched the viewscreen as stars streaked past. Around his ship, the rest of the Twelfth Fleet warped along, aiming for the Havras system as fast as they could move. The Icarus and the rest of the Fourth Battle Squadron had moved into the vanguard, flanking the Relentless. He listened as the flight control console intoned a signal from the flagship to drop out of warp. "Bring us out of warp, Lieutenant Smyth. Let's see what's left."

Rhiannon Smyth swallowed hard as she brought the Icarus down to impulse, unsure of what they would find. The slowed down, the rest of the massive fleet forming around them.

"Captain, Miranda's tertiary hull appears to have been destroyed," reported Hughes, standing at the tactical console. "Both vessels are operating in separated mode. Galaxy's third nacelle has been sheered off, and all hulls of both vessels have suffered serious damage. Galaxy's saucer has lost her shields."

The fleet comm came to life. [Admiral deMercereau to all ships, You are clear to engage by battle group. Remember to cover each other. deMercereau clear.]

To Holmes' left, Commander Khoma turned to his console and called up his own sensor readings. There were some things that the average tactical officer never thought to check, and even after years serving with the two ex-fighter pilots, Hughes still hadn't quite caught on to the slightly differant priorities of Holmes and Khoma. "Rogue and Vanguard Squadron are both hurting pretty badly. Vanguard is faring a tad better than Rogue. Those damn old Rogue-class ships are taking a beating. I think they've lost five fighters." There was a brief pause as he squinted at the monitor, then continued, "It looks like the entire second flight has been destroyed."

Holmes closed his eyes for a brief second, remembering the face of yet another former subordinate. With any luck, Mr. Joral had gotten out ok. "Tell Major Norax to launch. Let's give them some help."

"Acknowledged," Hughes replied as he tapped the command into the tactical console.

In the Icarus' massive launch bay, Major Norax Taldren, the new fighter group commander, looked at the indicator light on her console. "Norax to all fighters, launch. First and Second Squadrons, follow Marshall Ri'Khinnic's wing and clear the enemy fighters near the Miranda. Third, remain near Icarus and prevent any hostile fighter runs on the ship."

With that, she activated her drive, and the thirty-six fighters from the Icarus blasted into the void of space to join the rising tide headed into battle.

Back on the Icarus' bridge, the comm came to life again. ["All fighters, close-quarters cover for the Miranda and the Galaxy."] came the voice of deMercereau. ["Anduril, Texas, Icarus, Pendragon, Arizona, Atlantis. Take up defensive positions around the Miranda's hulls. Remora, K'Hotan, Sovereign, Stargazer, Protector, Valiant, defensive postions around the Galaxy's. Everyone else, good hunting."]

Holmes smiled. "You heard the lady, folks. Lieutenant, take us close to Miranda's primary hull." Tapping the armrest controls, he spoke, "Bridge to Fighter Control. You get that, Tom?"

In the large Fighter Control chamber on the Icarus' conning tower, Lieutenant Tom Knight, the ship's Strategic Operations Officer turned to the operations table. "You got it, Boss. Major Norax has already deployed and scrambled the squadrons."

Smiling tightly, Holmes activated the in-ship comm. "All hands, this is the Captain. We have arrived in the Havras System, and are now deploying. Miranda and Galaxy have both suffered extreme damage. We're facing T'Kith'kin vessels and what appear to be Hydran, as well as some disorganized elements of the Breen fleet. You all know what's at stake, folks." Casting a sidelong glance at his exec, he caught the tight grimace on Khoma's face. "Spread Icarus' wings, people. Let's fly. Holmes out."

"Lieutenant Smyth, take us in."

==========================

The catamaran shape of the Icarus skimmed along the hull of Miranda's primary hull. Canting to port, Smyth slipped the vessel past the stern of the Anduril as Hughes opened fire with the ship's pulse cannon and torpedo tubes, tearing the starboard nacelle off of a passing T'Kith'kin warship, which spun out of control and exploded amongst a Hydran formation, which the Arizona and Atlantis promptly moved in to clear out.

"How are Miranda and Galaxy's hull reintegrations going, Hughes?" Holmes asked his tactical officer.

Hughes glanced at his displays. "They need about two more minutes, then we can start to escort them out."

Nodding, Holmes looked to the operations console. "Hail the Miranda. Ask Captain Eliathin if he needs any help getting those damned boarders off of his ship. Tell Captain Veldan to have the Marine company prepped, stand by for transport if Eliathin wants them."

"Aye, Captain."

==========================

Out in the midsts of the main battle, Major Norax angled her Valkyrie to starboard, leading the first squadron through the Hydran and T'Kith'kin formations. Passing nearby a debris field that appeared to be the remains of a T'Kith'kin cruiser, she heard her sensor alert indicator go off. A voice sounded in her ear. ["Red Four to Gold Leader; we've picked up an emergency spacesuit beacon. The frequency is SFFC."]

Activating her comm, Norax responded, "Acknowledged. AWACS runabout Hegemony, divert to pick up ejected pilot and transport to Miranda."

Scanning the distress frequency herself, she pulled up the pilot's fighter ID. Her eyebrows raised in surprise as the answer came up on her status screen, and she immediately hailed the Icarus.

"Major Norax to Icarus; tell Captain Holmes that we've found Joral Anton."

“Pods In The Open”
Lt. Cole Slaton - Wraith/Rogue Twelve

He watched as escape pods seemed to erupt out of the infidel’s ship. “She was doomed,” he said with a satisfied smile carved into his hard face under his helmet. The Hydran was heading right towards the first wave of escape pods, for a brief moment his heart seemed to pause at the sight of a black Rogue Fighter, but the fighter peeled off vanishing behind the other side of the starship. Obvious he’d seen his superior and wanted to save his own skin.

It was a pitiful effort on his part, which was the same for the rest, they could not win this battle, the gods were on their side, they demanded their lives and their ships for the coming war and they would not be disappointed. He eased his fighter towards the nearest escape pod, a hunk of metal that looked nothing like the bio-engineered vessel he was piloting.

Just as his thumb rose to depress the firing trigger the red light of his alarms bathed the cockpit, sirens quickly followed causing him to look seemingly in all direction in utter confusion. He then saw it. The black fighter! “The infidel!” he roared. He opened a channel to the Rogue Fighter, but before he could utter a single word he frowned in bemusement when all he received back was music.

[“She willll... be loved... She willll... be lov-e-e-ed... She will---”] It was jamming all his channels as it played throughout his fighter. The hydran roared with anger slamming his clenched fist against the side of his canopy before bringing his fighter up and around.

“She will... be loved...” Cole was singing along to the music. It was coming from a small portable MP3 player that he’d hooked up to the fighter so it played through the intercom speakers. It was a classic, older than most of the crew on board the Miranda - including himself - It had been his fathers and he’d gotten him hooked with playing music while flying. Cole always flew better while relaxed and there wasn’t anything more relaxing than a bit of music in the background.

He’d lulled the hydran pilot into believing he’d left at the mere sight of him. ~Fool!~ Cole cursed pushing his throttle to attack speed. He fired several shots that flashed by the hull of the Miranda’s already doomed section slamming into the oncoming hydran fighter. The hydran peeled off to the right while Cole flew off to the left, after passing each other, before circling around for another pass, he was not going to let him have a free-for-all with the escape pods.

Energy flashed behind him and looked at the rear display saw the hydran had snuck up behind him, Cole put his fighter into a cork screw faking a right turn before pulling hard to the left. It hadn’t worked, the fighter was still there. “Fuck off!” Cole spat slowing down and speeding up while making sharp turns trying to lose the hydran, he was beginning to shake the hydran off his tail but it was time consuming and the escape pods were wide open.

“Ok you son-of-a... let’s see what you’ve got...” Cole flicked several switches while his left hand gradually pulled the throttle back slowly cutting his speed. Plasma leaked out from his starboard engine port, of course it was fake, there was nothing wrong with his engines or his fighter, apart from a few scraps and scorch marks which a lick of paint could easily fix.

The hyrdan fighter didn’t realise this and started firing, the energy bolts slammed into Cole’s shields taking them further and further down with each direct hit. Cole had to time it right otherwise it was game over, for himself and the escape pods this bastard was trying to destroy. Cole knew there was a good chance the captain’s other half was aboard one of the escape pods, but in Cole’s eyes she was no different from any other officer or crewman, he just didn’t fancy having to stand in front of the captain and explain himself.

He trusted his instincts implicitly, all El-Aurians have it, a keen understanding of their surroundings and of the universe in general. Though Cole was still young, in El-Aurian years, he had that ability, that sixth sense that had saved him on numerous occasions. And here he was proving it again.

He yanked the throttle lever back cutting his forward speed to almost zero, he didn’t wait long before he slammed it forward through the gate into the afterburner. It took time to regain speed from a dead-still position. He’d seen the move on one of his films, Top Gun, he’d been a bit dubious as to if it could actually work - now he planned to put it to the test.

The hydran fighter flew past him still firing straight ahead obviously shocked at seeing the Rogue Fighter whizzing past, Cole didn’t waste any time celebrating firing phaser bolt after phaser bolt that shot forth from the emitters. They slammed into the hydran fighter until they cut through the shields hitting the hull slicing through as if the hull was nothing more than wet tissue paper. The fighter exploded once the phaser’s found a critical system, the flames shot out in an expanding bubble until the suffocating vacuum swallowed it.

Now they were home free.

"Relief For The Wounded"

Commander Cassius Henderson,
Executive Officer

Commander Karyn Dallas,
Second Officer/Chief Counselor

Ensign Saul Bental,
Assistant Chief Intelligence Officer

Ensign Sh'laran,
Flight Control Officer

Ensign T'Liera,
Tactical Officer/Fighter Controller

Tyrone Miller,
Civilian Reporter

****

Main Bridge,
Deck 1,
USS Galaxy-A

The bridge of the Galaxy-A a shook, shook, and did not stop shaking. No matter how fast Sh'laran moved the ship, there was always one of the sixty-odd Hydran and T'Kith'Kin warships to target it with a weapon. Luckily, between Sh'laran's piloting and Henderson's effective countermeasure use, the Galaxy had managed to avoid serious damage. However, the shields were dropping to dangerously low levels.

"Sir," T'Liera called from the fighter control terminal, where Cassius had transferred sensor functions to make space for the command displays at the arch. "I'm reading unidentified craft entering the system from the direction of Breen."
 
'Arrival of Unidentified Craft', Tyrone Mused. Thats going into the Story. This could be interesting.

Cass flicked through a sensor screen with one hand as he fired the phaser cannon into the docking bay of a Hydran Starcarrier, paused in it's deployment of fighters. Even as the Galaxy passed over the burning, dying vessel, Cass did his own analysis of the sensor data.

"Deployment profile is consistent with those of Thot Gor during the Dominion War," he said, using his extensive tactical knowledge to his advantage, "The Breen have arrived."

T'Liera raised an eyebrow in worry from her position at fighter control, calling the Vanguards to regroup closer to the Galaxy so that they could screen the larger vessel from a group of T'Kith'Kin bombers. The arrival of the Breen could easily spell the doom of the fleet, as the Breen would push the odds from 30 to 1 to something closer to 40 to 1. Then again, that really wasn't too much of a difference when you really thought about it. She glanced at the sensors.

"Mr. Sh'laran, watch the T'Kith'Kin ships aft..."

But it was too late, and before the Andorian helmsman could move the Galaxy out of range, bioplasma bombs sent the ship into a nother series of spasms, and Cassius had to catch himself on the arch to avoid falling to the deck. "Shields down!" he shouted through clenched teeth, then steadied himself.

"Major damage, portside decks thirty-eight through forty. Hull breach on deck forty," Bartlett reported from Ops as Sh'laran banked away from their enemied, taking them through a series of complicated maneuvers that made Cassius greatful for the inertial dampners. "Repair teams are moving to cover."

"Bental, cover the rear arch, the T'Kith'Kin are attempting to follow," Cass said, firing the phaser cannon through a massed cloud of enemy fighters to clear the path. She ship shuddered as they passed through the enemy formation, some of the less well trained pilots smacking off the front of the Saucer like flies on a windshield. Minor hull breaches began to erupt all across the saucer.

Saul was nearly caught off-guard. He was already manning his station, but he expected the XO's commands to come his way only after the Stardrive and Saucer sections were separated.

He reacted quickly, leaning toward his panel. He concentrated, trying to make the type XII phasers an extension of his will. The display showed various Corvette-sized warships and some fighters stalking the Galaxy. Steadily, he began to return fire. He thought aim was going to be the least of his problems, since the Galaxy's tactical computers were the ones in charge of that task, but it turned out to be his worst problem as one volley after another were dodged by the small but agile fighters.

It took him about five seconds of lousy attempts to realize that this could be solved by changing his fire priorities. Instead of trying to hit the annoying flies, he should've aimed at the larger and more sluggish cockroaches.

And so he did. Twin beams came out of the Galaxy's rear, hitting the largest Corvette. It was smaller than most ships in the T'Kith'Kin fleet, but still the largest ship in Saul's range. After a few seconds of intense fire and despite the Corvette's evasive maneuvers, the beams finally penetrated the shields and sent the enemy spinning. The corvette's propulsion section disintegrated in a green blaze, and the chain reaction left the ship no chance.

"Kavod!!" Saul cheered, throwing a quick glance at Cassius. It almost felt like they were fighting back to back.

Cassius examined the tactical plot. Behind the ships which Saul already dealt with, approached three Breen Heavy Cruisers in a Trinity formation. That meant that the treaty was meaningless now, with their obvious use of technology prohibited to them. While Cass had expected that, he now had to consider the possibility of more firepower being directed at them, or worse yet, an improved Polaron Beam weapon. He'd seen the effects of its predecessor at Chin'toka, and had no desire to relive that.

Suddenly, Captain M'Kantu's voice cut across the din of the bridge.

"Commander Henderson, initiate saucer separation. Take up defensive posture, take out as many as possible with that phaser cannon, then get the hell out of here."

"Aye, sir. I'll send deMercereau back as soon as possible," he said, turning back to order Bartlett to begin the protocols for saucer separation. Now it was all up to them.

For a moment, Saul Bental's sigh of relief was the loudest noise on the bridge.
Saul liked the orders they were given. Blast away in order to call the bigger boys to join the fight was exactly the move he'd do if this fight was a school brawl on Utrecht III.

"Mr. Sh'laran, bring us into a defensive position and try to give me good shots with the cannon," Cass ordered, stabbing his fingers agaist the tactical arch, directing the phaser banks and torpedo bays against the nearest Hydran battle group.

The Andorian spun his head around, antennae twitching. So much for simply withdrawing. "Aye, Commander, bringing us about. There's a pair of Hydran light cruisers coming up on our port quarter - I'll try to give you a strafing pattern, but I make no guarantees."

"Sir, would it not be advisable to simply withdraw? The chances of 12th Fleet arriving in time are already minute," T'Liera asked. Her console was beginning to overheat, and she'd been forced to tell Flight Officer Heloi that she was on her own a moment earlier, for fear of causing an overload.

"We've already survived longer than we had any right to expect," Cassius replied, eyes fixed on the arch. "What we need to do is gradually withdraw. Sh'laran, turn our nose to point into the enemy, then thrusters back half speed."

A slight sardonic chuckle emerged from the helmsman; "Shouldn't be too difficult. We're no longer capable of moving any faster."

Cameron Bartlett didn't like what he was seeing. Despite what he liked to tell himself, he really wasn't prepared to die for the Federation. "Commander, the shield generators are gone. That last hit finished them off."

"In the heat of the battle," Tyrone began, not realising that he was speaking aloud, "the Galaxy loses its shields at the hands the oppressors. Breen, T'Kith'Kin and Hydran, all in unison working to defeat the Federation..." he was about to continue before he realised that he'd been speaking out loud. He decided that it'd be best if he stayed quiet.

"Damn," Cass spat, confirming it in his command display. That put the final nail in his plan's coffin. "Mr. Sh'laran, bring us to full reverse!"

"I'm already going as fast as we can move," he replied in agitation. "It would be nice if enginnering could give me a little more." His fingers flew across the console, tryig to keep the ship reversing through the mess of battle. Between the Galaxy's third nacelle, the remains of Miranda Three, and various Hydran and T'Kith'kin ship parts, the region was beginning to resemble a starship gravyard - one which, if he didn't do something fast, would include the Galaxy's saucer and all those aboard her.

But the Hydrans kept coming. Forming up in front of two of their Starcarriers, four Hydran Battlecruisers were tearing toward them for Hellbore shots. "Four battlecruisers pursuant."

That would be the end of the road, Cass realized, if he didn't think of something soon. The Hellbore cannon was a feared and respected weapon, similar in most ways to the Federation Phaser Cannon. Reacting, he lowered the number of the enemy by one with the cannon, firing on full power to drill a hole in the center of one of the pursuit ships.

"A shield!" Saul Bental exclaimed. Cass momentarily turned his attention away from the battle at that shout. The intelligence officer's eyes had an odd spark in them. Was he losing it in the face his very probable demise? "The Hellbore is a slow-aiming weapon, otherwise we'd be dead already. If you could disable the propulsion of the battlecruiser we just hit, then use as much power as possible to grab it with our tractor beam... perhaps we could use it to deflect the first Hellbore shots."

Saul paused, inhaling deeply. "Think of the Battlecruisers as knights armed with lances. Once they're in motion, they may hit hard using the momentum, but that same momentum can be their weakness if we use a shield to deflect it just long enough for... for..."
 
"An interesting analogy." Miller commented. He tried to stop himself from speaking, but he just couldn't help it. Maybe he was getting close to pushing the hospitality of the Starfleet Bridge Crew.

"Excellent idea, Mr. Bental," Cass said, immediately locking the saucer section phasers onto the crippled, burning battlecruiser's engines, which were barely flaring with power as it was. A few moments later, and he'd burned them from the hull with a precision strafe. The enemy cruiser was helpless. "Mr. Bental, prepare to lock tractors. Mr. Bartlett, give me power from the sciences to tractor control."

"Aye, sir. It's done," Bartlett replied. On the viewscreen, the Hydran Cruisers loomed closer, their Hellbore cannons charging.

"Now, Mr. Bental!"

The young ensign from Utrecht III activated the tractor beam, empowered by the extra power from Operations. He locked onto the Hydran cruiser and pulled it past it's comrades and directly in front of the Galaxy's saucer.

"Engines aft half speed," Cass ordered, just as the Hellbores fired. In front of them, the Hydran Battlecruiser shattered, blocking the shots. While the destruction of the Galaxy was avoided, a large section of their 'shield' was blown back into the Galaxy's saucer before it could pull back, impacting them just aft of the bridge.

Explosions filled the bridge as the impact of the enemy cruiser most of the power relays in the saucer section to overload. Cassius was dimly aware of a body flying past him as the tactical arch overloaded and blew apart. The force of the explosion knocked him to the ground.

As he struggled to get back to his feet, the ship continued to rock for a few moments before finally falling silent. Moving mostly on instinct, he stepped over the fallen body of the science officer to man a working console. He knew his efforts were probably futile, but he had to at least attempt to get them out.

"Sir, we have no power to the engines," the Andorian helmsman reported.

Patching together command functions at the science console, Henderson switched the viewscreen to show the Galaxy herself. What the remaining members of the bridge crew saw was gut wrenching. The saucer hung motionless, the remains of the Hydran cruiser that had provided their salvation lodged firmly in the hull, just behind the bridge. Fires could be seen being snuffed out as they tried to escape into space.

"Mr. Bartlett, dispatch damage control teams to the affected sections," Counselor Dallas ordered, confirming that she was still alive.

"My console's out," Bartlett replied sadly. So was most of the ship.

Suddenly, shapes filled the screen around the shattered hull of the USS Galaxy. Familiar shapes. The shapes of the 12th Fleet.

[Admiral deMercereau to all ships, You are clear to engage by battle group.  Remember to cover each other. deMercereau clear.]

Relief.

["All fighters, close-quarters cover for the Miranda and the Galaxy."] came the voice of deMercereau. ["Anduril, Texas, Icarus, Pendragon, Arizona, Atlantis. Take up defensive positions around the Miranda's hulls. Remora, K'Hotan, Sovereign, Stargazer, Protector, Valiant, defensive postions around the Galaxy's. Everyone else, good hunting."]

Beside him, Miller let out a triumphant shout of relief, and soon the rest of the bridge crew joined him. They screamed themselves hoarse as the USS Relentless lead half of the fleet to attack the enemy fleet and the USS Crestfall lead another group to swat the nearby Hydrans away like so many flies. In the distance, the USS Protector could be seen, watching over the rest of the carrier group, their fighter squadrons swarming into the enemy fleet.

Cassius felt like a little boy who had just totalled his family's car, but the relief was evident on his face. They'd held out for long enough. Despite the engine damage, they'd managed to survive.

Pilot Tyten
Vanguard Five
USS Galaxy

"The Indianapolis"

Whatever mental problems had plagued him before were now tucked into the deep recesses of his mind as Tyten raced through the battle ensuing around him. Anyone passing close enough to peer into his cockpit would readily be able to see the wide grin spread across his face. Despite the level of danger, he was having fun.

"Jazz to Vanguard. Vanguards Five through Ten deploy in protective positions around the escape pods. I don't want them to start shooting practice on them. The rest of you, continue harrying the enemy. Jazz out." His lead's voice came over the comm.

"Vanguard Five setting up camp," he called out in response. He knew that Jazz would be fine without him on her wing for the time being.

As he positioned his fighter in proximity to the escape pods, his mind was turned to thoughts of a story he had once read about Earth's second world war.

The date was July 30th, 1945. The USS Indianapolis was on its way back from delivering the atomic bomb to the island of Tinian when it was struck by two torpedoes fired from a Japanese submarine. The first blew the bow of the ship away while the second struck the ship mid-ship on the starboard side. As fate would have it, this second hit was near a fuel tank and a powder magazine. After the resulting explosion, the ship began to roll to starboard as it sunk by its bow. Of the 1,196 men aboard, about 900 made it to the water.

That's when the sharks came.

The United States Navy's safety measures against sharks during that time period was to thrash about and slap the water in an effort to scare the offending shark away. It was later determined through studies years later that this was a rather grim policy as this sort of action only served to draw the attention of the shark.

900 men went into the water, 316 men came out.

Now, as the T'Kith'Kin and Hydran forces loomed, Tyten knew that just like those sharks, they would soon make their attack on the defenseless escape pods. At that thought, Tyten smiled.

Let them try.

OOC: Thanks to Andrew for the title.

"Echoes of 2374"

Fleet Admiral Irene deMercereau,
Commanding Officer: 12th Fleet

Captain Frank Therrien,
Commanding Officer, USS Relentless

Commander Sam Mallaganee,
Executive Officer, USS Relentless

Lt. Commander Nelis Saler,
Intelligence Liaison/Second Officer, USS Relentless

Lt. Commander Chase Peterson,
Chief Tactical Officer, USS Relentless

with...
Aval (Protector) Gor,
Dictator of the Breen Confederacy
Thot-Khar (Admiral of the Fleet) Agrach,
Commanding Officer: Breen 1st Fleet
Flight Officer Bridgit 'Lassie' Lennox,
Phoenix 9/Three Flight Lead
Flight Officer Abdul-Hafiz 'Bedouin' Hussein,
Phoenix 10/Flight Officer
Flight Officer Pikarr 'Hasperat' Ekrayn,
Rogue 2/Flight Officer

****

Main Bridge,
Deck 1,
USS Relentless-A

The catamaran battlecruiser USS Relentless lead the way out of warp in the Havras System, followed by the massive fighter carrier USS Protector. Behind them were 106 of Starfleets finest starships, arrayed in their ten ship Battle Squadrons. They skirted along the edge of the asteroid field for a short distance, finally inserting near Havras III, using the large concentration of asteroids and the gravity well of the planet to hide their mass.

On the bridge of the Relentless, Captain Frank Therrien, a man in his early forties with light brown hair and grey eyes, watched the viewscreen with interest. Nothing but asteroids, with a few battered and largely uninhabitable planets strewn throughout. A red giant star centered the system, with a Breen colony on the second planet from the sun, centered in a large clearing of the belt that the Breen had to maintain.

"Captain," Lieutenant Commander Peterson, a toothpick of a woman who it was rumored had the ability to do 5th Dimensional Calculus in her head, reported from the tactical station. "Sensors are picking up a large concentration of mass signatures that wouldn't be in keeping with the belt. They're located near the fourth planet."

"Anything resembling the Miranda or Galaxy?" Frank asked. He knew Elaithin and considered the man to be a friend. M'Kantu was more of an enigma, but no less a good commander. Should he arrive and find the Miranda and Galaxy destroyed, the depth of his anger would be great. Betrayal had never been something he dealt well with.

"Not as of yet, sir. I am reading weapons fire from that general region now, so we can only assume that they've engaged the enemy," Peterson said, frowning down at her plot.

"Take us over there, Captain Therrien," Irene deMercereau, the genetically altered commanding officer of the 12th Fleet ordered, "We've waited long enough."

"Aye," Therrien replied, turning to Sievert at the helm. "Evie, Grid 12, full impulse. Chase, signal the fleet to deploy our fighter screen and move us into the belt. Call down to Phoenix Squadron and tell Major Solaris she has permission to deploy."

Less than a minute later, deMercereau's command had seen it's first casualty. The USS Gardner, one of the 12th Fleet's Whorfin-Class Fleet Tenders, clipped an asteroid and spun out of control. Before anyone could do anything, the Gardner had exploded in a shower of metal and flame, reaching out into the surrounding area and consuming itself, snuffed out like the lives it contained, by the blackness of space.

"God damn it!" Peterson muttered when her plot flashed, and with that one exception, the bridge held a moment of silence for the crew of the Gardner as the fleet pressed inexorably forward toward the deepest depths of the asteroid field. "Captain, I'm getting more definate readings now. I'm reading something over one-hundred capitols ships of varied designs. Some of them are definately Breen."

"Continue on course," Therrien said, watching the fleet move on the forward viewscreen. He thought better of it then, "Put it onscreen and magnify. And attempt to raise the Breen command ship."

The image on the viewscreen shifted to one of chaos. Vessels weaved in and out of the asteroid field, some purple, others blue, along with the more familiar shapes of the Breen ships, though some were obviously too large to be treaty-legal. Therrien frowned. "No responce, right?"

"Not a drop."

****

Fifteen Minutes Later,
Havras System,
Breen Sector

The fleet was approximately one minute from arriving at the site of the conflict. There was too much going on in the cloud of rapidly swirling vessels for them to get a positive identification of either Federation vessel. However, they had definately ascertained that the other vessels, tentatively identified as Hydran and T'Kith'Kin, were hostile, as their fighter elements had engaged the 12th Fleets fighter screen under Marshall Ri'Khinnic. So far, the casualties had been minimal on the Federation side.

"Admiral deMercereau to all ships," the 12th Fleet's commanding officer once again stood in the center of the bridge. "You are clear to engage by battle group. Remember to cover each other. deMercereau clear." The blonde Admiral returned quickly to her station as the Relentless leapt forward, piloted by the deft hands of Evie Sievert.

"Chase, locate the Breen command ship. Lets see if we can't loosen their frostbitten tongues," Therrien said, watching the explosions begin as the 12th Fleet crashed into their opponents.

"Found him," Peterson reported, bringing the image of a Breen Command Battlecruiser up onscreen. "That should be Thot Gor's ship, Breen Confederate Ship Falgvor."

"There's no way that's treaty legal," Mallaganee muttered, "I'll bet they've been hiding a shipyard here since 2375. It's the perfect location."

"Agreed. Evie, get us close to the Falgvor. Chase, fire at your discretion," Therrien ordered, watching the plot intently as Sievert weaved them through the enemy formation. Peterson's torpedoes and cannons lanced out from the Relentless, burning down enemy vessels as they lead the charge.

"Coming in range of the Falgvor, sir," Lieutenant Stovak, the Ops manager, reported, "Shields at 91% and holding, sir."

In the background, deMercereau could be heard issuing fleetwides.

"Excellent," Therrien replied, "Concentrate fire on the engines and weapons systems of the Falgvor. Mr. Stovak, continue hailing. Let's see if Thot Gor doesn't want to talk."

****

Bonny Lass,
Phoenix Nine,
Havras System

Flight Officer Bridgit Lennox fired her portside thrusters and sideslipped the incoming bioplasma missile, then swept back to the other side and lit her opponent up with her pulse phasers. Her wingman, Abdul-Hafiz Hussein, brought Sandstorm (Phoenix Ten) in behind her and finished the T'Kith'Kin fighter with a microtorp. Coasting on, the spotten one of the Rogues, fighting alone and against a large group of Hydran fighters.

"Phoenix Nine tae Rogue... Two," Lennox said, her Scots-Irish accent cutting through the noise in Pikarr Ekrayn's cockpit, "Yah need some 'elp, there?"

[Prophets am I ever glad to see you, Lennox,] a familiar voice came back at the Ciutricar woman, [It's been too long. I'm willing to share, if you're willing to pull my ass out of the fire... again.]

"Ekrayn? Damn, Hasperat, what're you doing in the middle of all this shite?" Lennox said to her old wingmate, signaling Hussein that they should break and attack. Already they were entering the swarm of fighters around Rogue 2.

[I let Hammond talk me into it...]

****

Main Bridge,
Deck 10,
BCS Falgvor

Thot-Khar Agrach had finally managed to patch his crew back into the neural net, forcing his Computer Efficiency Officer to rig a temporary substitute so they could survive the battle. His brilliant battle plan was rapidly unraveling, and he could feel Thot... Aval Gor's eyes boring into his icy back.

In his humble opinion, it was time to leave, but Gor wanted to fight. Probably still smarting over the fight with Elaithin. Gor had been lucky that he'd come along when he did, and decided to remain loyal. It had been a hard choice, but to let the new leader die would have been foolish. Gor had the charisma that he'd always lacked. And he was a better commander, so Gor kept him around. It was a beneficial relationship.

[Sir, Federation Command Ship incoming. They target our engines and weapons,] the weapons officer said, [Identity Confirmed. USS Relentless NCC-72010, Admiral deMercereau/Captain Therrien command.]

[All weapons target the bridge,] Agrach spat back. If he could slay deMercereau and Therrien, the enemy's cohesive way of fighting would fall apart as communication would break down.

On his screen, the Relentless accelerated, it's phaser cannon spitting death at their already weakened shields. The Falgvor shook and sparked as torpedoes followed the assault.

Federation phasers were answered by Breen disruptors, but the Relentless' shields held true. They hadn't been weakened by the prolonged combat that the Falgvor had endured.

[Keep firing!]

****

Main Bridge,
Deck 1,
USS Relentless

"Sir, the Falgvor is responding to our hails," Stovak reported, his attention never leaving the Ops console. On the viewscreen, the methane venting from the aft of the Breen command ship suggested that they'd punched through the shields and caused a hull breach.

"Onscreen," Therrien responded.

The image of an encounter suited Breen in a dark chamber appeared on the main screen. Therrien found the display of power irritating and vain. Gor had cost many good officers thier lives in the preceding hours, not to mention his own nationals. "You must be Thot Gor."

"Aval Gor, actually. You must be Therrien," the computer translated.

"Captain Therrien, actually," he replied, without sounding the least bit sardonic, "Aval Gor, surely you must realize that your situation is beyond recovery. Withdraw your forces now, and nobody else need die today."

"Our situation is hardly dire. More forces come to our aide," Gor said, sounding confident behind his helmet. Reading him would have been easier for Therrien, who was trained in that sort of thing from his time as an Intelligence Officer, had he not been wearing it.

"Bluffing will get you nowhere. If you're to lead the Confederacy, you have to have a Confederacy to lead," Therrien said, a certain threatening tone entering his voice, "Withdraw now, or face the full force of the 12th Fleet."

On the screen, Gor started to snarl a terse responce, but was cut off by a second encounter suited Breen, this one wearing the rank of a Thot-Khar, or Admiral of the Fleet. They exchanged a few hushed words, then Aval Gor turned back to the screen.

"Very well, Therrien. We gain nothing by continuing this game. Someday, however, you will not be so fortunate. Until next time, Therrien."

The channel cut off from Gor's side, and the screen returned to an image of the limping Falgvor. "Status Report, Sam," Frank asked his executive officer, who had been commanding the ship while he talked with Gor.

"The Breen forces are withdrawing back to the planet. It appears the Hydrans are following suit," Sam said, looking up from her console.

"Good. Ms. Cooper, signal the fleet and inform them to concentrate fire on the T'Kith'Kin Battle Group," Therrien said, and Admiral deMercereau confirmed it to the Strategic Operations Officer. Turning back to the viewscreen, Therrien set about plotting his next move. Today had been a success.

"Snoopy And The Red Baron" - Part 2

Major Wes 'Snoopy' Hammond,
Rogue One/Rogue Squadron CO

Flight Officer Pikarr 'Charlie Brown' Ekrayn,
Rogue Two/Flight Officer

Ehdaq Var'dyrr 'The Red Baron',
R'Nor'Akk Triquadrant Lead

****

Asteroid Field,
Havras System,
Breen Sector

Hammond ripped around the side of an asteroid, skimming along close to surface, following a Hydran bomber that was on it's way toward the Tertiary Hull, intent on making a kill shot on the Federation ship. Though Wes and Ekrayn had vaporized the rest of his flight, this one was good, and his evasive maneuvers kept Hammond from being able to drop his shields.

Checking the sensors, he signaled Pikarr: "Phoenix to Hasperat, four T'Kith'Kin fighters incoming at our dorsal two. Point your nose up and run them off."

Ekrayn clicked her comm to acknowledge, then pointed her nose up and rocketed forward toward the incoming T'Kith'Kin fighters, essentially charging them to a game of chicken. "Hasperat firing one." Her pulse phasers lit up the space between her and the T'Kith'Kin fighters, ending as their shields absorbed the energy. "Firing three."

Wes grinned as he continued to chase the bomber. She'd tricked them into ignoring her torpedo lock, distracted by the pulse phaser impacts on their shields. A few moments later, his plot lit up as two of the four T'Kith'Kin dots flashed out of existence.

~Okay, time to get serious. This guy's pissing me off.~ Wes thought to himself, and dropped power from the torpedo launcher into his engines, giving his Rogue IV a sudden burst of speed. The Hydran pilot was caught off guard and banked away, but Wes was right behind him, painting his ordinance pod with pulse phaser fire, which bored through the shields and shattered the hull. The torpedoes contained within ignited, and Wes had to pull away quickly to avoid becoming part of the crater.

Dropping power back into his torpedo launcher, he pulled around to head back to where Pikarr was engaging the T'Kith'Kin. She had managed to drop in behind one of the craft, which was leading her on a chase through a series of small asteroids. The other remainging enemy was following her in the same manner.

"Need some help, Two?" Hammond asked as he tried for a torpedo lock on the trailing biofighter. The purple craft swung to one side, the back. It wasn't a solution, but the enemy didn't seem to be able to evade and shoot at the same time, so Pikarr was in the clear.

"Wonderful timing, Wes..." she shot back, doding behind an asteroid to avoid more of the bioplasma spitting fighters. The organic ships were disconcerting at the least, with their grafted organism that spit their bioplasmic bile to destroy ships, and the large, clawlike extension above the wings.

"Anytime, Hasperat," he grinned, spinning his fighter to avoid a stray shot, then lining up his own, firing a microtorpedo into the pursuing fighter. At about the same time, Pikarr destroyed her own opponent. For a short second they were in the clear.

"This is intense, Phoenix," the Bajoran said, breathing hard from the sheer terror that she was fighting off with equal strength as she fought the enemies.

"It's target rich," Wes said, agreeing in a way. Glancing at his sensors, he picked them a new target. "Over there, by the Secondary Hull. Group of bombers. They're next."

But Pikarr didn't respond, as she was already banking away, pursued by six purple biofighters, who forced her back into the main fight. Five more swooped in behind Wes, pushing him in the opposite direction. He tried to swing around and make his way back to Ekrayn, but the enemy blocked him at every turn. He managed to splash one of them before he noticed the red biofighter.

It was just sitting in space, watching.

Wes recognized it immediately. The T'Kith'Kin scout commander. This had probably just become personal. ~Well, if he wants to play like that, I'm more than up to it.~

[It's just you an me now, Major Hammond,] a voice cut through the communications traffic. A T'Kith'Kin voice. [One on one. And then we will know who is the better of us, Major. And the history texts will sing our story.]

Suddenly, Wes recognized the voice. He'd heard it once before, during his tour on the Greencastle. They'd skirmished with a group of unknowns, and now that he looked at the T'Kith'Kin fighters, they were familiar. "If that's how you want it Ehdaq Var'dyrr. But they'll be writing the epics about me."

He'd lost a lot of good people that day, and Var'dyrr was to blame. Now it was personal.

"Not a Safe Place"
Lt Cora Dobryin
Chief Intelligence Officer

****

Intelligence CIC,
USS Galaxy-A

Space became a very small place when combat erupted. There was no way to hide from its wrath aboard a starship. Cora had her intelligence teams constantly feeding updated information to Galaxy's command team. On any other day that would have kept them busy enough, but things wouldn't be that simple.

Each hit reverberated throughout the mighty starship's structure. All of them were vivid reminders of the odds they faced because they were felt so distinctly. She was immersed in compiling a vital set of data updates when all hell broke loose.

A volley of weapons fire scored a near direct hit on Galaxy's Intelligence section. There really wasn't time to think, it all happened so fast. Dobryin's staff had luck on their side while Cora took the brunt of the blow herself. The blast shockwave threw her some distance away from her previous location.

In essence she felt it all happen rather than saw it. Deep into studying a string on incoming data one second then flat on her back as waves of white hot pain lanced through her body the next. Quickly all sense of time and place became severely distorted.

Certain key things however never escaped Cora's attention. Large amounts of debris scattered the area that had once been home to Intelligence. Part of her felt trapped but there was no way to tell for sure from her current vantage point. Only able to make out vague sounds of people attempting to reach her.

Unconsciousness became her only reprieve from the sordid aftermath. That did nothing to take away her fears of a previous time and place..memories that would remain for a long time. Totally oblivious to the 12th Fleet's timely arrival. Apparently fate had a way of turning the tide in their favor after all.

"What Remains Will Forever Be Etched in Stone"

Lt Commander T'Chani Darion
Miranda Hazard Team CO

****

Aboard the Avalanche

Leger's comment grabbed T'Chani's full attention. Once they were safely out of harm's way and things had calmed down she'd talk to him about his actions. With reason she had mixed feelings about his performance on this recent Hazard Team mission. He'd done well but made some questionable judgment calls.

This latest had occurred mere seconds before when he chose to protect the drifting life pods. Certainly it had been a reasonable thing to do but overall command of the situation was still Lt Commander Darion's by default. Even with the argument of Leger piloting, ultimate responsibility for her team and their safety fell on T'Chani's shoulders.

At the moment she wanted nothing more than to be reunited with her kids once again. That would have to wait a while longer, but thoughts such as those also reminded her of the reasons she'd chosen to defend and protect the safety of the Federation. Now that she had a family to look after it added a new perspective to her choice to wear a Starfleet uniform.

She watched 12th Fleet's arrival yet remained silent. Relieved to know reinforcements had arrived. Although the Hazard Team CO remained lost in some rather personal memories for a moment or two, reflecting on a time when things felt complete. ~There are some long over due subspace calls I need to make as soon as I get a chance. ~

It hurt to see Miranda with such deep battle scars. Darion knew all too well those were onlya hazy remnant of the price they'd paid as a result of their recent run in with two very powerful

"Dancing With The Devil Under The Pale Starlight Redux" Part 3 of 3

(Takes place after saucer separation and before the dorsal pylon is destroyed in "Swept Away, Part III")

Principal Characters
Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff

Guest Appearances By
Captain Daren M'Kantu
Lt. Commander James Corgan
Lt. Ven'r Nong
Ensign T'Pol Hunter
Commander Ethan Suder
Flight Officer Angelienia
Lt. Shelley O'Rourke

****

USS Galaxy-A
Secondary Hull
Exterior Hull

The rain of phased energy thunderbolts that slashed down fro the heavens saved his life - at least for the moment.

One Hydran was hit squarely and simply vanished during the starfighter's attack run as it lined up a shot on Victor. The remaining two - the third, the Hydran placing the demolitions gear, had been blown clear of the ship when Victor's first shot took it square in what passed for it's back - were forced to scatter by the strafing run and lacked a good shot at him as he ran forward.

There was only one shot left in the rifle and no time to reload. The fight would be finished at close quarters, he couldn't take the risk that the remaining Hydran would choose to set the charges off and hope for the best.

His feet made no sound in the vacuum as he ran, cutting from side to side erratically to make it as difficult as possible to draw a bead on him, only the jarring of the magboots as they clamped and released transmitting through his legs to let him know he wasn't flying. If nothing else, the life support field justified the effort in having Grey make it again by allowing him to run like this - had he been in an environment suit, he'd be dead already, the lumbering strides and restricted motion it gave him slowing him to the point that he'd have been a sitting duck for the Hydrans.

He'd covered half the distance to the Hydrans when the remaining two spotted him and opened fire. For some reason, their aim was off - perhaps because he appeared to not be wearing a suit, perhaps due to shock from the strafing run, perhaps some other reason. It didn't matter to Victor. All that mattered was that they missed, and kept on missing until he was close enough to do what he'd come to do.

His side was throbbing again as he ran, his ribs screaming, but he ignored them. If the nacelle blew, then his ribs were of no concern to anyone. The ship would be crippled, and even if a space opened up through the mines, her warp field geometry would be so unstable that Admiral Scott himself couldn't hold it together without a rupture.

The Hydrans regrouped and began to get closer with their fire, and Victor winced as a scarlet fusion beam lanced past him close enough to make him dance aside. Any closer and they'd have the range - and then he'd be dead. He didn't mind the dying, but dying for nothing... that he minded.

Without conscious thought he spun aside again and fired the rifle's remaining round from the hip. The bullet flared, accelerated away, and blew one of the Hydran's arms off at the shoulder. Not a bad shot, considering the circumstances, but not the kill he'd been hoping for. Still, beggars couldn't be choosers.

The Hydran jerked and spun about, as a gout of frozen atmosphere and circulatory fluids freezing as it hit the vacuum, and then jerking and floating away as some form of catastrophic injury sealing mechanism severed it and closed off that portion of the suit. The other Hydran moved back around the curve of the pylon, out of direct-fire line with Victor, as the first staggered and tried to recover from the shock of its injury.

Victor bared his teeth as he pushed himself harder. This would be enough time to reach them. I had to be. It would be enough. He refused to contemplate anything else.

****

USS Galaxy-A
Secondary Hull, Deck 8
Battle Bridge

In her life, 8-Ball had seen many things that she considered unusual, even frightening, but nothing that affected her quite like the one that unfolded on her screen as she monitored the remaining Hydran demolitions team. Watching the Hydrans fall one by one had been exciting in its own way, and the strafing run had been something to replay later, but this...

"Ensign, I asked you a question." Daren's voice cut through her horrified fascination. "Is something the matter?"

"Yes, sir, I mean, no, sir, I mean..."

"Well, Lieutenant? Which is it?"

"I... here," 8-Ball flipped a switch and a portion of the main screen separated and displayed the scene she was watching, "see for yourself, sir."

For a moment the Bridge stopped as everyone looked up at the main screen and the scent that played out there. For that instant the whole battle faded away as the Battle Bridge's crew's universe narrowed down to the slightly grainy images that moved there in skips and stutters as the pickups filtered as much of the Hydran and T'Kith'Kin jamming as they could, and they saw the impossible happen before their eyes.

Two Hydrans remained of the demolitions team, one of them now minus an arm. Engaging them in hand-to-hand combat was a lone Starfleet officer in a Security uniform, an unfamiliar rifle in his hands being used as an improvised weapon - apparently unaffected by the fact that he was standing on the hull of a starship in the hard vacuum of space without an environment suit.

"What is he...?" Ethan breathed.

"Allah is great," Daren whispered reverently.

~Now *that* is what I'm talking about!~ 8-Ball crowed silently as Ella's Scary Man ducked under a wild swing and jammed the muzzle of his rifle through the alien's faceplate in rush of escaping atmosphere

Daren shook himself and tore his eyes away from the scene on the monitor. There would be time to ask questions later - and there would be questions. But now there was only the knowledge that Krieghoff was doing his duty, and that was enough. There was a battle to fight, and he wasn't winning it watching one man do the impossible. "Thank you, Ensign," he said as he returned his gaze to the tactical plot. "Back to work, people - we have a larger battle to fight. Mr. Krieghoff seems capable of handling that one on his own."

8-Ball nodded and cancelled the larger display - but kept the smaller one active on one of her screens so she could continue to monitor it.

"Captain," Ethan pointed to the plot. "There, at Point Five Eight..."

"I see it, Mr. Suder," Daren nodded. "Mr. Nong, give me a spread of torpedoes please. Three, I think. We want to make sure we have enough for everyone, after all."

****

USS Galaxy-A
Secondary Hull
Exterior Hull

Victor released the rifle as the Hydran spasmed and went limp, the rush of atmosphere from the shattered faceplate only abating when enough of it had frozen to form a seal that would hold against the pressure remaining within the suit. He turned, knowing that there was only one Hydran left and then he was done.

The last Hydran made a short rush forward, but was stymied as Victor slipped aside deftly, the freedom of movement the life support field gave him making him appear lightning-quick in relation to the larger methane-breather. The alien wheeled, keeping it's lost arm on the side away from Victor, and began to sidle closer, trying to line up a shot from the fusion pistol that it had drawn when it's rifle went spinning into space with the bullet- severed arm.

Victor frowned. Why didn't the Hydran shoot already? What was it...? Ah. He smiled unpleasantly. The charges. He was standing in front of the charges. The Hydran didn't want to fire for fear of setting them off. His smile slipped from the merely unpleasant into something much more disturbing, something that even the Hydran seemed to recognize as a thing to be afraid of, as it took a step back.

"Well then," Death whispered through Victor's lips. "I haven't got a weapon, and you can't use yours... looks like this has to be settled the hard way..." he made a beckoning gesture with one hand.

The Hydran, whatever its level of knowledge regarding human mannerisms, understood that well enough. With a slow rolling gait it began to move forward, the fusion pistol still in one hand.

"That's it," Death whispered. "Come on in. "He took a step back and slightly to one side - still in front of the charges, but now able to see one of them. It was a smaller thing than he'd expected, but the bright glow of the magnetic bottle inside it was clearly visible - as was the slow march of incomprehensible figures on the display that faced him, marking this charge, at least, as having had its timer started.

"Well now", Death added with a slight shift in his smile. "That's very interesting...." He turned to face the Hydran and beckoned it forward again. "What are you waiting for? We've got the stars, the lights... let's dance."

The Hydran started forward, and things began to happen.

The fight quickly resolved itself into a simple set of goals. The Hydran wanted to get a line on Victor that would allow him to use the fusion pistol he still held without detonating the explosives behind the Starfleet officer. Failing that, it wanted to trap Victor in a position where its superior mass could tip the scale in its favor.

Victor, on the other hand, was determined to stay in front of the explosives and deny the Hydran the chance to use his energy weapon, and to, if possible, maneuver the alien into a position where he could actually do something to damage it, since he lacked a weapon more dangerous than his hands and feet - and his feet were denied him due to the need to cling to the hull.

Victor essayed several blows against the Hydran, but the alien's suit was too heavy for them to be felt, and he was never allowed the chance to grapple for the fusion pistol. His superior speed and mobility offset the Hydran's greater mass and strength, but provided no other edge,

The Hydran, sensing Victor's problem, began to force the fight towards the explosives slowly with its mass. It still tried to line up a shot on Victor, and even essayed a pair of if them that went wide, but it became obvious that it was more interested in reaching the blinking explosive than anything else.

Victor ducked under a third shot from the Hydran's weapon, slammed another ineffectual blow into the alien and grunted as he was forced back another step. He needed a new plan, because the old one wasn't working well, something that would let him kill the Hydran and get back inside before the life support field ran out again, like it had on Breen. If that happened, he wasn't going to make it back inside.

As he spun under yet another scarlet beam from the Hydran's weapon, his foot brushed the demolitions mine and Death suddenly smiled. "You want this?" he whispered, as he suddenly reached down and closed his hands over it. His fingers found the release clamp, and with a shudder, the activated mine came free in his hands as he straightened back up.

The Hydran started to backpedal, as if it sensed what was about to happen, but it was far too close to save itself.

With a single step, Death slipped in around the Hydran and lifted a foot to plant it firmly in the Hydran's side, the magboot locking onto the alien's armored suit and anchoring it in place, pinned there by the other boot Death had left still attached to the hull. With a grin that froze even the methane-breather's circulatory fluids, Death leaned in and pressed the demolitions mine to the side of the Hydran's suit - just under the spot where its severed arm had been - and triggered the clamps to anchor it there. "There you go," Death whispered. "You got it."

The Hydran froze for a moment... and then exploded into a frenzy of movement so strong that it tore Victor's magboot free from the hull as the alien whirled frantically in an effort to reach the mine and remove it.

Attached to the Hydran by one magboot, Victor was dashed against the hull, the nacelle pylon, the hull again, and then the dead Hydran still attached to the hull in less than forty seconds. As the alien continued it's frantic efforts, ignoring Victor's presence, he grunted as he was dashed against the pylon again and almost torn free to spiral out into space, jerked his free leg in, and clamped that magboot to the Hydran as well. "You're not going to be rid of me that easily," Death chuckled as the two continued their bizarre dance.

The Hydran tried again to reach the mine, failed again, and spun close enough to its dead companion that Death could reach out and grab the stock of the rifle jammed through the alien's faceplate. The movement of the alien he was anchored to almost tore his hands free, but he held on - and was rewarded by a burst of gas and tissue as the weapon was wrenched free.

The Hydran didn't notice what had happened for the moment it took Victor to break open the action, the extractor stripping the expended shells out to spin off and be lost and check the barrels to make certain they were free from obstruction. Another moment and he'd reloaded the weapon, Death's feral, horrific grin spread across his face as he proceeded to take two steps and literally walk up the Hydran's armored suit so that the alien could see him clearly as he raised the weapon. "Time to die,"
Death rasped.

****

USS Galaxy-A
Secondary Hull, Deck 8
Battle Bridge

The sudden lack of movement on her monitor alerted *-Ball to a change in the fight by the pylon and she turned to look, hoping it was good news - or at least better news than she was getting from her other screens.

Somehow, Krieghoff had literally walked up the Hydran, his retrieved rifle in his hands, and had it aimed at the alien's head. The Hydran had somehow acquired an activated demolitions mine attached to its armor and was pointing its fusion pistol up at Krieghoff. The two were frozen, waiting for some signal to end their fight.

For a moment 8-Ball held her breath as the tableau was displayed on her monitor... and then, as if on some sudden signal, the Scary Man and the Hydran fired simultaneously. The scarlet lance of the fusion pistol's beam flared and passed completely through Krieghoff's torso at the same time that Krieghoff's rifle discharged and literally blew through the stocky alien's helmet and down through its torso.

The impact ripped the Hydran free from the hull and sent it spinning away, as Krieghoff was sent back out into the void in the opposite direction, seeming to almost be riding the fusion beam that had impaled him to the stars.

8-Ball looked away as the Hydran demolitions mine detonated far enough above the hull to be negligible and then turned back to the Battle Bridge, hating herself for the cold, perfect Vulcan voice that was all she could manage as she said, "Final Hydran demolitions team eliminated."

"Speak the Devil's Name"

(Occurs immediately after the events of "Dancing With The Devil Under The Pale Starlight Redux, Part 3")

Principal Characters
Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff
Transporter Chief Hope Cannon

****

USS Galaxy-A
Secondary Hull Deck 14
Transporter Room 5

Hope couldn't believe that it had come to this. Trapped in her Transporter Room, still handling the site-to-site- transports that the Marines and Security personnel needed to defend the ship, Breen troops at the door, melting it down, and nowhere to run.

She was going to die.

A single lance of light pierced the door and seared across the room as the Breen cutting their way through neared their goal.

She was going to die. The Breen were going to cut her down and use her transporter to bring more of their kind here, to flood the ship with them. She couldn't le that happen, she couldn't. But there was nothing she could do, no security or Marines she could call that weren't already busy, no one that could come to her aid...

Except one.

She shuddered, terrified that she'd even thought of that. He was worse than the Breen. She couldn't, she wouldn't, not even to save herself and the ship. That officer she'd talked to in Security, O'Rourke, had been right, the man was.... He was... he was a monster, evil, wrong. Nothing would make her call him back to help her, nothing.

Another Breen phaser sliced through the door.

She hit the recall switch.

In a burst of blue-white light, he was there and falling to the transport pad, an odd light playing about him, and some oddly-designed rifle in his hands. As she watched, the dim aura faded and he took a single, rasping breath. One hand scrabbled for the wall, and he levered himself up to expose a hole - a literal hole the size of her fist, one that Hope could see the other side of the transport pad through - burned through his torso.

Krieghoff coughed once scrabbled for a better grip, and asked in a voice that was, if it could be believed, more terrifying than the one he'd used just before he'd left. "Problems, Chief?"

A Breen phaser sliced through the door at that moment and scored the far wall.

"Medkit."

Hope nodded once and threw the kit she'd already gotten from the emergency locker to him, still staring as he took four hypos, loaded them, and jammed them against his neck one after the other in rapid succession. He shuddered once, took another breath, and stood up, seemingly oblivious to the hole - she was still staring at it in horrid fascination she realized - that something had scorched through him.

He broke open the action on the rifle, loaded the wo largest kinetic projectile rounds Hope had ever seen into it, and closed the action. "On my mark, open the door, he rasped as he shifted positions to cover the door at a slight angle.

"What?" Hope shrieked.

"One..."

'You're not serious?"

"Two..."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Three!"

She opened the door as Death roared like thunder and stepped forward to have his day.

'Patience'

Lieutenant (JG) Ariss Edon ~ Security/Tactical Officer

Miranda Life Pod

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Whoever's foot that is in my side, can you please move it!" someone said from the other side of the pod... "No, try the other foot!" the same voice said after a moment… then, "Nope, how about the 'other' other foot!"

...?...

"Nope, how about..."

"Will you two knock it off." someone else said irritably, "He's got eight, you'll be at it all bloody day!"

“Okay, that’s enough everyone.” Ariss said, looks like we’re going to be in here a little while, so let’s try and be calm. Okay!” Trying to shift around so he wasn’t so plastered against the wall, he craned his neck around to look out the small view port. The amount of debris in the area was diminishing slightly, but they were still getting banged around. “Chief,” he called out, “How’re the nav deflectors coming.” He asked.

Normally, he’d be right over there, helping out, trying to find out what was wrong, but today, well, that was just not gonna happen. One life pod, standard recommended occupancy, six persons of average humanoid size. Today, it was hosting twenty. And at least two did not fall under the definition of ‘average humanoid size’. Add to the mix one Brikar, and you had one highly cramped life pod where the main concern was breathing.

Bouncing off the wall again as the pod shook, “Chief!” he said, raising his voice over the muttering. “Any time now would be nice!”

“No offence sir, but if you think you can do this any faster, you’re welcome to come over here and try!” the Chief snapped.

~ If I could just move, I might actually think about taking you up on that! ~ Ariss thought. Shutting up though, he kept his peace and looked out the window again. Out there was the remains of the Tertiary hull of the USS Miranda, and several enemy vessels. Hopefully the Primary and Secondary hulls were intact and still functioning. ~ And still fighting! ~ along with the Galaxy.

Suddenly finding himself pinioned between a Brikar and a wall, Ariss flailed around briefly, desperate for air and less gravity. Forcing himself out from behind the rock, Ariss found himself looking out the view port. Occasional flashes of light outside gave him no idea what was going on, and with no comms or sensors, they had no way of knowing what was happening. Resting his head against the transparent port, he sighed. This was the third time he’d had a ship taken out from under him, and this time, he’d been in a position to do something about it.

‘And failed’ he muttered.

~ I suppose this is what the Kobyashi Maru was supposed to prepare us for ~ he thought, ~ Failure in the face of overwhelming odds and great adversity! ~

‘Yeah, Right!’ he muttered to himself again.

Tapping his comm badge, he tried a hail. “Lieutenant Ariss to USS Miranda… Nggh…” he finished inadvertently as the air was crushed from his lungs again, “Requesting emergency retrieval if possible!” pausing, he waited.

[Miranda to Ariss. Hold tight Lieutenant, we have you on sensors. We’ll retrieve your pod as soon as we can, we’re a little busy here. Sit tight!] the voice said rapidly, before shutting down the line.

~ Sit tight! ~ ‘Yeah, Right!’ he muttered. “Okay everyone,” he said a little louder, “You heard! Pickup is on the way, so relax. We shouldn’t be here too much longer.” Closing his eyes, Ariss sighed, and wondered if everyone had made it off the Tertiary hull before it had blown, or how the other two hulls were faring, or the Galaxy.

‘Prophets!’ he prayed, ‘Let everyone be all right’.

"Withdrawal"
Captain Elaithin Jii

OOC: This post officially ends "Wasteland".

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

Bridge,
Federation Starship
USS Miranda

Thoroughly routed by the Twelfth Fleet, the Breen forces had retreated early. The Hydrans had followed close behind. The biological ships of the Hive, unsurprisingly, were the sole remaining holdouts. Jii wasn't surprised at that - everything he'd read about the T'Kith'Kin suggested they were tenacious adversaries.

As he watched, the ships of the 12th Fleet dueled and dealt death with surprising facility to the bioships of the Hive. Jii had no doubt that this would be the first major loss the T'Kith'Kin had suffered since their war with the T'Kari two years ago.

Admiral Murdock had thought the Hive destroyed then. Clearly, those reports were in error.

["Security to the Bridge."] came the voice of a security officer ["T'Kith'Kin boarding parties contained. The Hydrans beamed out."]

"Good work." Jii said candidly. "Prisoners?"

["Three, sir, along with the two sedated Breen."]

"Sedate the T'Kith'Kin, too. We'll turn the lot of them over to Starfleet Security later."

["Aye sir. Security out."]

"Docking sequence complete, Captain." he heard Jack respond. "Still going to take a little bit to gather our escape pods. We've gotten most of them now. Galaxy's already pulled herself together, and is being escorted out of the system."

"Any sign of my wi - of Commander Jordan?" he asked, trying not to sound desperate. As the threat to his ship had receded, concern for his wife had become foremost on the Bajoran's mind.

Jack gave a small shake of the head. "Not yet, Captain."

Jii sighed, and rubbed his nose as his attention turned back to the viewscreen. She was out there, somewhere, still alive. He didn't know how, but he knew.

He had to believe that, at least.

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

Bridge,
HMV Mr'Hata

"Commander Gr'Chinick." the lowly officer reported, lowering himself to indicate he was bringing bad news.

"You're going to tell me that most of our forces are destroyed, and that our tacticians suggest we withdraw?"

"Yes, Commander."

"Well, they're right. The Federation has one this day." the insectoid growled. "It doesn't matter in the slightest. Our plans will merely be delayed. Signal all remaining forces that the time has come to withdraw. We agreed to cover the retreats of our allies. We have further purpose here.

"Yes, Commander."

Eyeing the remains of the Starship Miranda on the viewscreen, Gr'Chinick made himself a promise. "The next time we meet, Bajoran, you will die. Have no doubts about that."

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

Bridge,
Federation Starship
USS Miranda

Most of the bridge crew watched as the last of the T'Kith'Kin ships winked away into warp, and the Havras system was inhabited only by Starfleet. Ships were grouping back up into formation to depart, and Jii turned to his Ops officer for a status report.

"The last pod was just transported aboard, sir." Dawson responded. "She's there, Captain."

"Gail, set us on a course for Starbase 212. As much spread as this beat up old girl can muster." the Bajoran replied.

"That'll be warp six, Captain." the pilot responded, and then spoke again. "Course laid in."

"Take us out. Mr. Dawson, you have the bridge.

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

Main Shuttlebay,
Federation Starship
USS Miranda

Captain Elaithin Jii made no pretense about his feelings as shuttlebay doors swished open, and broke into a dead run to where the gathered survivors of the Tertiary hull was waiting.

He didn't care in the slightest that he probably looked like a fool. Jordan was standing on the edge of the crowd, looking as though she'd just woken up. He was even oblivious to the cheers of some of the junior crewmen as he swept his wife up in his arms and kissed her passionately.

Still groggy from the tranquilizers in her system, her husband's greeting was more than a little surprising. She returned the kiss and hugged him back tightly. "Sorry I blew up your ship," Jordan murmured in her husband's ear.

"Well, just don't do it again." he replied with the familiar smile. "Are you.. okay. Are.. the babies..?"

"I'm as good as can be," Jordan said, "I won't know anything for sure until I get to sickbay, for checkup, but it seems fine..." Jordan sighed. "I'm just really tired."

"Allright. We've got all the time in the world, now." he said with relief, and the two of them exited the shuttlebay.

"Reflections on the past"

Ensign Jeremiah Leger,
USS Miranda Hazard Team Member

********************

Aboard the Avalanche

"Coordinate with Miranda as needed to make sure her life pods are all accounted for and rounded up. Once we're given the all clear to Return to Base (RTB) take us home." Darion said

"Aye Ma'am" Leger said. Just the cold tone in her voice told Jeremiah that he was in trouble. Again. ~I must've pissed someone off in a past life or something...~ he thought to himself as he frowned and punched in the comm channel for the Miranda, or what was left of her. ~First Commander Mitchell and now Commander Darion... I'm doing REAL well on this new ship...~

He figured his trouble started his first day of academy and just snoballed from there. A bit of a scuffle with a security track cadet right on orientation day. Okay, so it was a full out brawl, but there was no severe repercussions. After all, Jeremiah was only about 14-15 when he entered the academy in the Flight Program. Then there was his posting on Deep Space Nine after the destruction of the USS Davenport. He went out looking for trouble then. It was only by the grace of God (or maybe Constable Odo, who knows...) that he wasn't outright killed by a group of Klingons in Quark's Bar. That turned out decently, only a reprimand preventing him from promotion anytime in the real future and a bunch of new friends with the security detail of the I.K.S. Gorkon. Klingons were fun to party with after that. Not to mention the new focus in life that they gave him. Leger rubbed his ribs in a chuckling reminder. He could still feel the painsticks from the Klingon "Rite of Initiation" that the Klingons sent him through and the subsuquent awarding of his very own Bat'leth and d'k'takh.

Things got better until the latter half of his posting on the USS Pearl Harbor, that entire hostage incident that got him busted in rank. He'd pissed off a good number of people then just because he saved the damn ship from a kamakazie attack that would've destroyed the carrier. ~Like I've said before, no good deed goes unpunnished.~

Sorta like sticking up for Lt. Reed when Commander Mitchell ripped the poor guy a new one not too long ago. Once again, Leger tried to do the right thing and ended up getting toasted for it. Now it seemed like it was happening again, only this time he had no clue as to why his CO would be mad at him. After coordinating the retrieval of lifepods with the Miranda, Leger took another look aft and wondered what was going through the Commander's mind. ~who knows...~ was all he could come up with.

He let out a big sigh and proceeded to help tow the lifpods in.

********************

USS Miranda-B,
Main Shuttlebay

Leger landed the Avalanche on the deck with no problems at all. Seemed like everyone was cheering on a group of the senior officers off near the entrance. He couldn't see too well throught the mass of people. Just as well, leave the congrads and the kudos to the people who planned the whole thing. Leger was just concerned now with getting through the day without being court-martialed. That, and helping that redhead to sickbay. He shut down the Avalanche and disembarked with his team. He had already called ahead for a medteam to meet them. They rushed on and wisked the girl away and promised that she'd be okay. It was only in hindsight that he realized that he didn't even know her name. Well, he would make it a point to go to sickbay to find out.

He grabbed his equipment and headed off for debriefing, and ,more than likely, his chew-out session...

Principal Characters
Sub-Commander Savar ir-Aihai tr'Khellian
Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff
Sub-Centurion Atole Tekri

Guest Appearances By
Lt. Commander James Corgan

****
USS Galaxy-A
Deck 7
Victor Krieghoff's Quarters
****

Victor looked around his cabin one last time, counted the empty spots where pictures had been, the ring on his desk where his Marine-Issue coffee mug had spilled over when the fight started, and nodded to himself. Everything was packed away in the disaster case now, including the smaller case that held his rifle. He sealed the case in front of him, and activated the built-in integrity field. The power cells wouldn't last long, but they'd do until the case could be retrieved if the saucer section was hulled in this section. In the event of a total conversion explosion, there wouldn't be anything left to pick up anyway.

He was technically still on medical restricted leave because of the injuries that he'd received on Breen, but that had never stopped him from doing his job before, and it wouldn't do so now. He'd just needed to pack the physical objects that he couldn't replace away, along with the chips that held his personal programs and the replicator patterns for the rest of his possessions. Now that he was done with that, there was nothing left to do but break his physician-ordered exile to his quarters and join the rest of the department. There were sheep to guard, and he'd been letting the others take up the slack for too long now. The Breen, the Hydrans, and the T'Kith'Kin had come to the Galaxy with death in their hearts - or what passed for them - and it was time to help them set it free.

=/\= "Krieghoff to Corgan. Where do you need me, sir?" =/\=

=/\="I just got back. Are you cleared for duty?" =/\= Corgan's suspicions carried through the voice transmission clearly.

=/\="Does that matter, sir?"=/\=

A pause, and then, =/\="It matters to me, Lieutenant. Emergency or not, report to sickbay. You stay where you are and..."=/\= The Commander cut off as a shrill buzz sounded in Victor's quarters, carrying over to the combadge. =/\="What the hell was that?"=/\=

=/\="I have to go, sir."=/\= Victor's voice was suddenly colder than the space outside the hull. =/\="That's the Sub-Commander's panic alarm. Krieghoff out."=/\=

Victor cancelled the connection before Corgan could respond and opened anew one. "=/\="Krieghoff to Duty Transporter Chief. Emergency site-to-site transport to location of transponder beacon Delta Seven Alpha."=/\=

Corgan would be mad, but it was easier this way. If he'd let his superior keep talking, then Corgan might have issued an order that Victor wouldn't - or couldn't - obey regarding Sub-Centurion Tekri. Assuming, of course, that she was the reason for the alarm. He flexed his hand and drew his phaser as the transport effect took him away. Who else would it be, though?

****
USS Galaxy-A
Deck 10
****

"Panic alarm..." Corgan trailed off as his comm-badge went dead, "Dammit Krieghoff..."

The reality was, James wasn't too mad at Lieutenant Krieghoff for his rash actions. On the contrary, James understood the Lieutenant's dedication to duty. In Krieghoff's position, James would have fought through a wound lest it was fatal. A full on ship invasion did force on necessity.

What he didn't understand was why Krieghoff felt he had to be hasty and insubordinate to his commander.

Necessity again, James reasoned.

Meanwhile, James Corgan had a good idea as to why the Tactical Chief's panic alarm was activated. "Computer, what is the location of Atole Tekri?"

=/\="Atole Tekri is on deck five, near turbolift 4.=/\= The computer answered matter of factly.

"And the location of Sub-Commander Savar?"

=/\="Subcommander Savar is in transit, Turbolift 4."=/\=

The Hazard Team mission didn't quite find it way raising up a bubble of panic, but the computer managed to scare the security chief in a way no incoming giant bug or disruptor beam an inch away from the forehead could do. Gulping back the cold dread in his voice, he now regretted taking the Hazard Team mission. Savar could be dead soon, and he was responsible many times over.

If only he gave Tekri what she really wanted, distracted her enough with sweet nothings, gave her promises he would eventually had to break. If he only didn't tell her the truth, or gave her a way out, been honest with her when a deception was understandibly the only option, then...

"Shape up and get a f**king move on!" Corgan stiffed his lip, his resolution restored. ~"If I wasn't honest with her, I would have done worse damage. So be it, I f**ked up. If i'm going to redeem myself to my staff, Victor, Savar and the Captain, i'm going to take Tekri in... even if I have to throw her in the cell by those pointed elven ears of hers!"~

=/\="Corgan to Enterprise. Emergency site to site transport, twenty meters from the lifesign identified as Atole Tekri.=/\= Corgan said, businesslike, gripping the rifle like Tekri's replacement lover. At the moment, it never occurred to him why Savar and Victor's opinion of him mattered, as the transporter glow enveloped him. A flicker of random though did give insight.

The reason he tiptoed around Tekri for so long. Why he was wounded by Krieghoff's insubordination, why he was so defensive towards Savar during their confrontation...

Did other people's opinions matter to James more than usual as of late?

There was time for that thought when Tekri would be captured. Now, he had a job to do.

****
USS Galaxy-A
Deck 3
Turbolift 4
****

The engineers would have to hate him for what he'd done to the turbolift door controls after he'd realized they were jammed. To be honest, Victor doubted they'd even notice given what was on the verge of happening, but if they did, well... maybe it would be good if they sent Grey to talk to him. He wouldn't hurt her.

The doors popped open with a 'whoosh' to reveal Savar on the floor of the car, his scorched uniform and the injuries that it failed to conceal evidence of an energy weapon attack.

"Sub-Commander?" Victor's frown moved straight to a scowl as he bent over the Romulan. He'd failed to stop this, and if the Sub-Commander were dead or dying, then it was a good thing he'd cut Commander Corgan off - Atole Tekri was going to join Savar before she had time to savor her victory.

The Romulan winced visibly as the harsh white light from the corridor spilled into the darkened turbolift, his milky vision barely able to register what was happening. He lay there, slumped against the way, blood trickling from his open mouth.

There was a dark shape in the white light, and it spoke: "Sub-Commander," it said.

Savar's eyes were wide as it regarded this unearthly apparition. In his heart, he knew himself to be dying. And this creature, with the reek of death and destruction pouring off it, was here to escort him to the Netherworld.

"No," he breathed raggedly, blood clogging his lungs. Despite his injuries he managed to shake his head. "I don't want to die," he whispered in his native tongue. Mustering what life was left in him, he raised his right arm in a futile gesture to ward off death. His whole body was shaking with the deep shock sustained during Tekri's assault, but, if it was possible, his hand trembled more, his only defense against this demon, whose very proximity sent fresh waves of despair and revulsion through his soul.

Victor's scowl abated slightly. He was still alive then, that was good - both for the Sub-Commander, for Victor, and for Tekri. His Romulan was non-existent, but he didn't need to speak it to know what the words had been, he could see them in Savar's eyes, hiding behind the fear.

"You're not going to die, Sub-Commander," he said quietly, his voice edged with the cries of the damned. "This isn't your time."

Tr'Khellian sat there quietly, his hand still raised, his eyes staring, uncomprehending. After a few seconds he coughed, and his arm fell in a reflex to his shuddering chest. Savar's eyes squinted into the light, finally adjusting slightly. He raised his arm again to whatever creature was promising him a reprieve, but this time his hand was not extended in defense. In a voice surprisingly resonant for a man in his condition, the patrician commanded: "Then help me."

"Hold still, sir." Victor crouched down and examined the Romulan's injuries. They were bad, but he was capable of being moved. Without speaking, he helped Savar to his feet and waited for the Sub-Commander to adjust to the new position before he said, "She'll be back for you, sir, I'm going to take you to Sickbay and then deal with her."

A deep shudder ran through the deck plating. "We have entered our final battle," muttered the stricken Romulan, being half-led, half-carried by the demonic security officer. It was unclear whether he was referring to the Galaxy, or himself and Tekri. Two seconds later the vessel lurched horribly, and it was only Victor's unnatural strength that kept Savar from tumbling to the floor. Another coughing fit ensued.

When it finished, they resumed their progress along the corridor. "Victor," Savar breathed, his heart pounding in his chest, threatening to rupture the blood clots that were all that was holding his shattered body together. It seemed he had finally recognised the unknown horror. "You have to take her alive." He gasped as his world reeled, but the security officer propelled him down the corridor. Krieghoff's steely grip under his arms was like being seized with pincers of frozen terror. Tr'Khellian's stomach whirled at every step, and waves of pain and revulsion pulsed through him. His mind was caught between a desire to live, and a terrible fear of living if it meant being carried by Death himself. Yet he clung to Krieghoff like a drowning man to a raft.

"I can't guarantee that, sir," Victor replied.

"She's mine," tr'Khellian hissed. Despite the pain, the closeness to death, there was a vicious malice in those words. It was a truly pathetic scene; a near-corpse plotting his revenge.

****
USS Galaxy-A
Deck 5
Near Turbolift 4
****

In an adjacent corridor, James returned to the material realm. His Hazard Team uniform, beige and gray flecktam cloak, and the massive scoped rifle cradled in his arms spoke intentions of war.

He was ready for a war against a woman he cared deeply about.

Cautiously, he peered over the corner and found his mark. Tekri was about ready to leave down the jeffries tube when he spotted her; a flattering position with her on her hands and knees, with backside tantilizingly up in the air if James was distracted enough to notice.

He was, as far as he knew, free from the addiction of her flesh. James aimed at Tekri, using the thumb to lower the setting on his rifle, and fired.

"Halt right there." Said a detatched, grave chilling voice to Tekri's right. Slowly, she crawled out of the jeffries tube; James' rifle scope watching and anticipating resistance.

"Drop the pistol." Corgan coolly demanded. "Now."

The weapon clattered loudly to the ground as Tekri climbed out of the hatch and raised her hands.

Tekri was now under Corgan's dominion. It struck him as unfair that a former lover, and a person who was still close to his heart (as he was to her), could be made to surrender more readily than a normal suspect. An unfair advantage he had to prepare to use.

"I warned you plenty of times." Corgan's hurt became more appearant in his voice, tingling regret, remorse and mercy, "I dropped enough hints. Hell, I told you the truth. I even tried to appeal to your mercy to let Savar go. I trusted that you wouldn't ultimately do this, but now I know that trust is worth sh*t."

"How can you say that?" She pleaded with him desperately. "You were my first." She let him finish the sentence mentally.

"Shut up!" Corgan growled, his anger more out of hurt. It was not as if he wanted to bring in Tekri; he still didn't want to, but with no more alternatives he knew apprehending her, even killing her, was the only path to take. Not even surrender would prevent him from being gutsick for days. He spoke as a man scorning her actions, a chastisement as well as a heartfelt appeal. "Tekri, you have left me with two choices. You lost your chance at walking away. Why did you throw that chance away?!"

"I wasn't going to let some traitor get away," Tekri said with contempt. Her voice softened. "Even for you, James."

However, even as she spoke, she reached for the second pistol - concealed in her uniform's waist pocket, with the intent of - if necessary - shooting the Starfleet officer.

"Well its gone, Madam Tekri." James switched to her more formal title, bitter as Arkalian rosethorn tea, "The first choice left is to surrender to me. You'll serve jailtime, but I can get you leniency. You'll get out and still have plenty of years left to live. But if you don't, and I guarentee you that will be a futile effort, I will take your pretty ass into the brig forcibly, and that's only if you survive! Afterwards, you'll be tried without forgiveness, sentenced without pity, and you'll spend your days being... councelled by councellors who only pretend to know what's wrong with you, while being bounced around Federation Penal Colonies. This will go on 'til your tits sag to your knees! Does this register?!?"

Tekri's voice became scornful. "Don't threaten me with your punishments. You Starfleet humans couldn't punish anything."

"And we're not as f**king soft as you think!" Corgan snapped back, "Don't be naive. Your life will end and you'll be still be alive. Don't do this."

"Even if what you say is true," she teased, "I would have my government behind me. How can someone such as yourself match up to that?"

"More than what your government will give to a person destined to fail." Reasoned the security chief, "If it wasn't for this attack..." The ship rumbled, consoles sparked as it was buffeted by outside forces, "...you would not have had your chance. We had you sealed up tight. Any move on Savar and you would have been arrested. Your people do not tolerate this kind of failure. They wouldn't even admit that you existed when you were inevitably caught, because it has happened before. Don't fool yourself like this!"

His last appeal felt more sorrowful and heartfelt, his bitterness vented, washed away, "Don't waste your youth on this mission. It's not worth it. Come with me. I'll help you."

For the first time in the conversation, Tekri displayed genuine emotion.

"I am sorry James," she smiled sadly. "You were - by far - the best human I ever knew."

With that statement - two sentences straight from her, and not her Tal Shiar training - she drew her second pistol at lightning-fast speed.

It was also that statement which convinced Corgan to relax his aim for one second.

One second too slow.

Tekri took advantage of Corgan's pause, cracking off a shot from her pistol as the ship rumbled from another hit. Her astonishing quickdraw speed even amazed James whom was more than adept at the phaser himself. His reaction time dropped, the flatfooted officer flinched, taking the quickest action without thought.

His rifle twisted in his hand, as he pulled it up to protect his chest from the oncoming beam. With a violent push, James was lifted off his feet, shoved with an invisible hand as his rifle burst apart in a silvery shower. Left with two pieces of a rifle that were disintegrating fast, James let go of his weapon, and hurled into the bulkheads.

The impact shot spasms of pain across his back as his rifle disappeared. Fighting off the pain, James rolled to the adjacent corridor for cover.

"Corgan to Security! I need backup! Deck 5, section 82." Two type 2 phasers relaxed into his hands. He darted across the hall, laying grazing fire dangerously close to hitting Tekri.

=/\="So'ka to Corgan."=/\= Came his reply, =/\="We're tied up by Breen from the Terinax 8th Guard! They're converging on your position. We're cut off!"=/\=

"For f**k sakes!" Corgan fired from the corner again to keep Tekri from moving, "Swallow's trying to make a break for it! Get your ass over here!!!"

=/\="Sir! We'll be there as soon as the Breen permit.=/\= Ensign Paul Hanley yelled over disruptor whines.

"Please do! Corgan out!" James stepped back as a green disruptor bolt showered sparks around his corner. "TEKRI! The Breen are boarding the ship! We don't have time for this crap!"

Tekri ignored him. "Computer, where is Sub-Commander Savar?"

"Sub-Commander Savar is on Deck 3."

Tekri almost didn't hear the location of her target as she dodged another phaser shot. By the time she had raised her weapon, Corgan had already ducked behind cover. But not very effectively, she thought with a smile: she could still partially see him.

She triumphantly raised her plasma pistol.

Then the bulkhead fell.

A nearby explosion had dislodged it, and the bulkhead - or at least a sizeable chunk of it - fell towards her. She moved quickly - but not quickly enough, and it slammed down onto her right leg, bringing her to the floor.

Her pistol rolled away from her as she screamed in agony.

Her scream brought James attention. He cautiously approached the entrapped agent, a phaser aimed at her chest and head as he shuffled closer. Her mask twisted in a grimace of pain as he commandeered her disruptor.

"Corgan to transporter room... two to beam to security..." He demanded.

=/\="Transporter room to Corgan, transporter systems are currently offline. We will need time to restore them."=/\=

"Fuck! Corgan to Hanley and So'ka." James holstered one sidearm to communicate and reset his phaser, "Where the hell are you?! The suspect has been trapped, same location. Can you hurry up?!"

=/\="SIR!"=/\= Hanley bellowed over the roar of a plasma explosion. At the same time, James heard the explosion on the other end of the deck. The reverberations shook at his feet. =/\="We're in big trouble! Terinax 8th Guard has breached the nacelle section, decks 25 to 13, and they are about to breach the first of our protective circles, and they just keep on coming! We'll be there in a minute, but we'll risk being overrun!"=/\=

"She's trapped and I need your help! I don't care if the Borg are halfway to assimilating you! Get over here! CORGAN OUT!"

Corgan modified his phaser to cut. He sawed at the stubborn bulkhead, feeling the shower of sparks from a blown out console like hot rain. The metal glowed red as he welded through, but the duranium bulkhead didn't yeild easily.

"The Breen won't touch you. I'll keep you protected, trust me." James promised Tekri.

=/\="Transporter room to Commander Corgan. We have operational transporters. However, we can only transport one."=/\=

Hanley bemoaned, "Hell. We're about to be swamped. That won't help us too much."

"It sure as hell will." Corgan silenced Hanley's criticism with a sharp, hostile glance. "Tekri will go first."

"Sir! My tricorder is reading multiple pings! We're surrounded!" So'ka screamed panic striken, "If you're going to evac your girlfriend, now's the time!"

“I’ll be fine, James,” Tekri managed to say. Anything was better than the Starfleet brig.

"Sorry Tekri. You're going to the brig. I'm not leaving you out here. I promise we'll treat you well... or they'll hear from me. Ok?"

“Please, James…” She felt tears welling up,and not just because she had failed her mission.

"Tekri..."

He choked out, regretting their trials, most he triggered off himself. Their relationship wasn't perfect, far from it, but it wasn't to say that it was a horrid one either. Being with Tekri melted away all other worries. Romulan, Tal'Shiar, it made no difference when beneath the trappings of an agent was a young woman, still innocent and naive, but in her own strange manner pure. It aggrevated him that the Tal'Shiar's influence would warp this once clean slate of a person, placing her in situations where she would have to betray and kill.

"...if we didn't have to fight each other... I think we would have been great together."

And Tekri – to her utter misery – knew that this human was entirely right.

"A shame it had to be this way. Transporter room, as soon as your ready, lock onto the Romulan lifesign and beam her to the brig. Activate prisoner protocols while doing so."

"Sir... they're about to come!" Hanley reminded.

"Ready here. Phaser set to kill, sir!" So'ka aimed.

=/\="Sir, we're ready. Transporting now."=/\=

Ashen face, Corgan let go one last smile to Tekri, saluting with his phaser as he turned away towards Hanley and So'ka.

He was aware that he was trapped. His tricorder didn't lie, and he didn't remember the last time he was trapped so badly. Breen lifesigns too numerous to count were coming his way.

"Don't worry, boyos. We'll be fine." Corgan turned one last time to Tekri, "Goodbye, Tekri."

The Tal Shiar agent felt herself being transported, and in less than a second, she was yanked – away from the comfortable sight of James – into a hostile brig that looked utterly devoid of emotion.

Just like she had been in attempting her mission. She just couldn’t ignore her anguish at betraying James.

She just couldn’t.

"Leakage"
by Turan Trelar,
Quentite student,
ambassador,
engineering wannabr
and Lt. Jiiles (NPC)

Turan looked out of the Jeffries tube at the Bolian engineer working outside at a nearby LCARS panel.

“What's next?”

Lieutenant Jiiles turned around and answered “Activate the new relay, remove the bypass then come outa there. We are done here.”

Turan turned the small switch on the topside of the relay module he installed seconds ago. A light near the switch changed from red to green. Humans usually used the color of their blood to represent danger or malfunction while green meant okay. No question the relay wanted to tell the world (inside the narrow Jeffries tube) it was working well.

Turan removed the bypass line and pushed his legs out of the tube when the claxon started yelling. He climbed out and arranged his clothes and glanced at the blue skinned Lieutenant with a puzzled look on his face.

Jiiles raised his shoulders – an other gesture he adapted from the Humans.

“I asked myself how long it would take until they have their next attempt to have the old lady be shooten to pieces. “ he explained “Let's get ready. Close the hatch and get yourself a fire extinguisher.”

Then he walked to the door and pushed a button. The door swished close but the light next to the button kept glowing red. The Bolian engineer sweard – words Turan's translator wasn't able to translate or probably it decided to keep away from the ears of a juvenile Quentite.

“We will have a look at the door as soon as this is over.” Jiiles commented “If we survive”

There wasn't much time for Turan to think about Jiiles' words. The mighty vessel fell into a spiral almost overloading her inertial dampening units then changed course several times by doing hard turns. Turan felt like doing a roller coaster ride. The Galaxy was hit. Turan was not able to say where. The next impact was definitely closer followed by an explosion and a shockwave. The tall boy stumbled and dropped the fire extinguisher.

Jiiles seemed to panik. “Hull breach. We're loosing atmosphere. “ he shouted pointing at the door where the room's air was sucked out of an almost invisible gap. “Check the Jeffries tube hatch if there's normal pressure inside, jump inside and leave some room for me. And hurry up, hurry up, hurry up.”

Turan looked at the display. The tube was still at normal pressure. The giant Quentite engineer wannabe opened the hatch. There was a soft breeze blowing out of the hole. They had to hurry up. Soon, the air inside the tube would be to thin to breathe. Turan crawled into the tube. Seconds later, the Bolian jumped in, legs first. In motion, he grabbed the lid and closed it, sealing it air tight.

The wind calmed down.

Turan turned on his back and sat upright and asked “Are we safe?”

Bolian sat upright, too. “For the moment, we are safe.” he confirmed.

"Shhh...we're hunting bio-mines" Pt 5

by
Lt Cernu K'rn - Asst Chief Science Officer, Biotec/Subspace specialist
Lt jg Phoebe Ivers - Science Officer, Subspace specialist
Lt jg Klaus Fienberg - Medical Officer, Neurocyber specialist
Ens 'Nara Sol - Engineering Officer, Tactical Systems specialist
Ens Ry'shan H'hanna - Medical Officer, Xeno-Biology specialist
Ens Tarin Iniara - Operations/Engineering Officer, Backup Telepath

~Time is of the essence~ Vr'lu interjected to Cernu and Tarin both ~The Galaxy and the Miranda now move into combat.

~Link me to long-range sensors~ Cernu asked Vr'lu, who complied. Cernu wordlessly asked Tarin to explain to the rest of the team while he did so and urged her to have them attempt an implementation.

Nara kept pacing around the mine trying to figure out how they were going to do things.

Meanwhile, Iniara turned to the remaining crew, her demeanor all business. "Lieutenant K'rn is currently linking with Vr'lu, and thinks it may be possible to hack these mines after all," she explained. "Time is definitely running against us, so we're going to try a slightly different approach. The mines seem to have a rudimentary neural setup, and this is where we'll go in. Telepathically."

Nara looked wide-eyed at Iniara but before she could process what she felt on this...

Before anyone could raise any objections, she continued. "Lieutenant K'rn is already connected to Vr'lu's sensors and will be connecting directly to the mine momentarily. It will be my job to link your minds together and filter input back and forth, providing a buffer so no one's mind gets overloaded. A mental conference call, if you will. This way we will be able to access the mine's neural system directly, making it much easier to manipulate." Iniara paused, sending out a quick mental probe. "They are almost ready. Excuse me one moment." Iniara headed to the back, disappearing into her assigned quarters.

Klaus merely made a "I don't know" expression on his face to the others.

Nara "freaked out" would be a good term to use. She put a hand to her head and closed her eyes gulping trying to get herself calmed down. "Calm down...It's just part of the job...They won't hurt you...part of job...not gonna hurt you," she mumbled to herself. Then she sighed and quieted her mumbling. She couldn't have her own mind running wild when linked in anyway. She shuddered at the thought of linking. Then she composed herself. She put on her warrior persona. The one that helps her do something she rather not, because it's duty and will save lives.

"Something tells me I'm going to come out of this with a terrible headache." Phoebe commented aloud. She had her glasses in her hand ad was polishing one lense with some kind of thin tissue paper. Just one of the many "useful" nick-nacks she had packed into her bulky duffle she had nicknamed Arthur.

A few moments later Iniara returned, holding a standard issue hypospray. "Once the link is established, we will all be able to communicate directly with each other, and with the mine. It's important to stay relaxed, and stay focused. Keep your thoughts on the mine, stay confident, and don't be afraid to try anything you come up with. I'll be there to help you along and to hold it all together."

Klaus was confused, "How is this going to effect you directly. I don't want to have to see you for some strange side effect when we get home Iniara."

“Hopefully, all I’ll end up with is a headache. Maybe mild, maybe massive. The psilosynine,” she held up the hypospray, “should prevent any lasting problems.”

"Well, I'm against anything that could permanently damage you...but if we must....so be it."

"Since I'm not telepathic naturally, I doubt I could suffer any ill effects from being temporarily mind-linked." Phoebe offered. "I believe it would be more like a Vulcan mind-meld. And those are relatively harmless to the non-telepath. Unless you end up with some pointy-eared fellow's katra floating about in your mind."

"I suggest we all get comfortable. Fewer physical distractions will make for a stronger link." Iniara then settled into one of the available chairs, fiddling with the controls until it moved forward and turned toward the center of the room, facing the others. She pressed the hypospray against her neck, ejecting its entire contents into her system, and then relaxed into the chair.

Phoebe followed Iniara's suggestion to the letter. She slid into a chair, tucked her glasses into her pocket, took the clip out of her long dark hair and let it flow over her shoulders. She shook her head a bit to loosen her locks, and then, to the surprise of everyone aboard, she reached down and pulled off her boots, setting them gently on the floor. Looking up she noticed everyone staring at her.

"Don't worry, you lot." Phoebe said. "Nothing else is coming off. But she did say 'comfortable'. Now.... I'm comfortable."

Nara closed her eyes and sighed again. She sat in a chair as well. She shifted this way and that until she realized it wasn't the chair that was uncomfortable. She finally just sat still a moment and looked at Iniara and nodded.

"When you are all ready, I'll begin." Iniara settled further into the chair, the spent hypospray slipping from her hand as all the muscles in her body relaxed. She took a deep breath, pushing all uncertainties into a tiny box in the back of her mind, forcing them to atrophy and die there. It had been a long time since she attempted anything like this, and never with a group this large. She couldn't afford to fail, not now, even if it did cook her brain.

Klaus merely awaited the begining. He had learned to meditate in the past, he cleared his mind in preparation.

Nara closed her eyes not sure what to expect. She willed her body to relax into the chair. She waited for a "presence" or something. She wished now she had allowed someone into her mind before this, so she would know what to expect.

Phoebe knitted her brow. She didn't know what to expect any more than Naranda did. She had this sudden fear of Doctor Feinberg seeing her naked in his mind. 'He's married.' she reassured herself. 'Besides, you don't give a damn anyway. Now, concentrate on the mines. Concentrate. I feel like I'm doing a bloody parlor trick. Concentrate...'

Iniara closed her eyes, once more searching for the combined minds of Cernu and Vr'lu. Ah, there they were. She reached out, forming a connection, and almost immediately sensed the presence of the mine behind them. ~We are almost ready. I am connecting with everyone now.~

Slowly but surely, Iniara formed a place in her mind. A completely empty space took shape, with only an impossibly smooth floor giving it any substance at all. A vague representation of her metaconscious self formed next: a ghostly white, near featureless form draped in nothing but its own impossibly long hair. She sat down and held her hands out, creating a representation of the mine which she held like a large beach ball.

Satisfied, she next envisioned a set of four doors: one for each of the remaining crew and each one slightly different than the next. She opened the doors one at a time, inviting each person through their corresponding door. And as they entered, she slowly closed the doors and let them fade into the background.

Klaus, nervous and slightly disoriented, approached the mine....~Cyberneural connections...Cyberneural connections..~ he thought.....not sure if the others would "hear" it.

Phoebe looked down at herself, as she emerged from her door. She couldn't tell if she were naked, or if she were draped in some kind of long robe that seemed to blend with the floor. She heard Klaus' voice in her mind. ~Cyberneural connections~ she repeated, hoping he would know she had heard him.

Nara looked about the room. She went straight to the ball. Must be the mine. Things were very odd here, but she focused on the mine for fear she would flip out at the strangeness of this experience.

~I thought this might be better than a completely abstract representation,~ she began, obviously referring to their surroundings. ~The neural linkages which Vr'lu pinpointed are here and here. And this is apparently a primitive subspace transceiver.~ She turned the mine in her hands to give an optimum viewing angle then seemed to reach directly into it, laying a finger on each part.

Klaus immediately approached to take a direct look at the neural links. "Fascinating, absolutely fascinating.....perfect.." He began silently studying them, mumbling occasionally. Scientist definitely wasn't his first discipline, but he appeared to be taking to it well.

Klaus immediately approached to take a direct look at the neural links. "Fascinating, absolutely fascinating.....perfect.." He began silently studying them, mumbling occasionally. Scientist definitely wasn't his first discipline, but he appeared to be taking to it well.

Nara spoke up, "So we can communicate with it? Does it have it's own will or will it do anything someone tells it to? Can we tell it to...you know...die?""And make sure it tells all of it's mates to do like-wise, Naranda." Phoebe commented. Was she speaking aloud. It felt as natural as if she were speaking aloud. But her voice seemed to echo as if she were in some kind of large room. The dimensions of the room that Iniara had created were at once endless, and finite. She made a mental note to be sure and study telepathic communication more closely upon returning to the Miranda.

~I do not wish to alarm any of you but...~ Cernu displayed against the incredible backdrop of nothing. The seen exploded into sensory intensity of being integral to the events before collapsing back, back to a scene as if being viewed on a screen. Galaxy and Miranda advanced into a system which as they watched, seemed to create T'kith'kin and Hydran ships out of nothing badly outnumbering both massive ships. Fighters swarmed from all the capital ships but instead of evening the odds, it made the disparity even more apparent.

Swiftly the scene pulled back to a tactical overlay, showing Galaxy and Miranda as Starfleet deltas and the T'kith'kin and Hydrans inder their own sigils. Beyond the subspace barrier, displayed in orange, several more Starfleet deltas approached ever so slowly.

~The Twelfth Fleet approaches but is held back by the subspace barrier and our own ships are dramatically outnumbered. Time is spinning away. Though is not timeless thought what seems like hours in this state may actually be merely moments. I will endeavor to speed up your subjective consciousness while Iniara continues to maintain your merge~ And that which felt like Cernu disappeared from their minds, leaving behind something... *different* but *aware*.

Nara looked grimly at the "screen." She stepped closer to the ball and spoke firmly, "Ok you. Kill yourself...and all your little friends too."

Klaus was mumbling, studying with both glee, and desperate worried haste. "over....load. neural connections.......mass detonation?....no no...to dangerous....disconnect....disable."

'Klaus... what are you saying.. ?" Phoebe felt her voice was falling flat, and that no one would hear her. 'We have to stop them. We have to destroy them....." then she turned her mind to the others. 'One by one, do it one by one; concentrating on the section of the field closest to the Galaxy and the Miranda. Use.... two second intervals..."

"Yes....YES! GENIUS!" Some how Klaus heard her. Cut a small hole in the network so that we can escape.....or..." Klaus "gripped" one of the connections.

Phoebe thought as hard as she could, of the whole mine field, as displayed to her through Vr'lu's "monitors". It hurt. Her head was definitely going to need to be plyed with some painkiller after this mission. But it worked. She could see a small replica of the field infront of her.

'Christ, look what I did !' she said.

She pointed to where the field was closest to the Miranda and the Galaxy, though there were no images representing the ships. 'Here... start here, Klaus. Destroy a few at a time, cutting a swath for our ships. It shouldn't take too long to get the field down.... and we can avoid any ill results from a mass-explosion.'

Klaus continued to study them...."I don't know what severing the connection will do....maybe destroy it like we want, cause it to do god knows what, or even nothing......I'm not even sure that I can sever it!"

'Sever the connection between two of them, and see what happens.' Phoebe said. 'Just two. I'll help you if I can...'

'I can sever it here? Alright....." Klaus snapped one.

Phoebe caught her breath as Klaus snapped the connection. She watched and waited for the result, her mind's eye seeking for Nara, and Iniara. They would know what to do.

But as they watched, the two mines in question went dark, nearly immediately being replaced by the two nearest.

Nara had watched Phoebe and Klaus and tried to follow suite. Instead of focusing on one, she instead did a scan over a spot in the field. She wondered if she could cause a chain reaction.

Phoebe could hear Nara's thoughts- or perhaps "hear" wasn't the right word- feel worked better. She could feel her thoughts as if they were her own, and yet not her own. 'chain reaction'.

'Yes' Phoebe thought back to Nara. 'Like a domino effect. You line up a row of dominoes, knock one down.... and they all fall down in unison afterwards.'

Phoebe rested her mind a moment, and thought it again... 'A domino effect....'

Nara smiled--or rather smirked--at the image of one mine in the center of the field exploding and then rows and rows exploding in succesion. Nara's thoughts took on words, 'Now how do we do that?' Nara was aware of the srange ambience of voices and her mind seeming mixed with the others. Nara concentrated on finding the links and which one mine would be the best one to start with. It was like when one bowls and aims for the center pin. Except, here, you didn’t know where the center pin was.

'It doesn't matter if we don't know where to begin..." Phoebe said. "The mines will know, themselves. They know where their own centerpiece is. Ask the mine to show us...'

Phoebe almost felt as if the words were not coming from her own thoughts. And yet she knew it was she who was thinking them. Perhaps somehow she had picked up on one of the others' thoughts- or even Vr'lu's. And she was relaying. So many minds interlinked, it was hard to know who was thinking what.

Nara did just that. She felt really hyped, as she always does when she finds a solution she feels will work and she's confident of victory. She slowed herself down and communicated with the minds centering in on the one that was the "centerpiece" as Phoebe put it. It was strange she could tell it was Phoebe's from the others. Tho they all felt connected.

Strange it all was. She centered in on the centerpiece and seeing what Cernu had done earlier she tried to make an image of the mine and the ones surrounding it. "If we send a broadcast command to destroy itself it will destroy the ones around it, and then ones surrouding those and so on and so forth." Nara was anxious to just go ahead and do it, but waited on the others to comment.

~Do it,~ Iniara replied. The mine in her hands had disappeared, and now she reached out for what Phoebe had generated. Once her hands were touching the centerpiece of the minefield she took over the stress of maintaining the connection, taking the burden off Phoebe.

~Send the commands. I'll amplify you if need be~ Her 'voice' suddenly turned cold, sadistic. ~Tear them apart~

'That's it.... give 'em hell, Naranda !' Phoebe thought to her friend.

Nara's smile grew. She sent the command at the same time thinking, 'In your face!' Too bad the mines didn’t have an ability to care one way or the other. She then watched holding her breath to see how it would all go down.

And they all reeled from the feedback as the minefield echoed back the force of their attacks, sending them into the dark painful oblivion of unconsciousness.

"Waiting for the Galaxy's Arrival"
Lt. Brianna "Anna" O'Shea
Starfleet Corps of Engineers Specialist

:: Starbase 212, Observation Promenade ::

Starbase 212 was alive with activity, swells of people seemed to move around the station like a current of water moving through a giant chasm. Good handful of the transit personnel on the station were members of Starfleet Corp of Engineers, the time honored 'club' of men and women who known as the eccentrics of Starfleet. Eccentric though to one individual was word of honor, it meant she wasn't the normal, she liked that a lot. She thought outside the box where imagination flirted with reality.

To ask Brianna what reality meant, she'd just smile and tell you that it was limitless in the eyes of a good engineer. As she sat there facing the observation window making notes on the detail plan of her duties, ear marking her team to their specific goals. During the refit of the Galaxy her job was to make sure the new warp drive got in fast, smooth and without a glitch.

Pausing for a moment she lowered the data padd and looked up, reaching for her amber colored drink. As she took a sip thinking about her job her left hand casually slipped down beside her in the chair and stroked her Irish Terrier's head. More of a calming nature then anything. Looking down as Peckerwood looked up at her and then laid his head over on her lap, she smiled then looked back to the data padd.

One thing that troubled her was the lack of reports that had, not, come in on the Galaxy in the last few months. There should have been a detailed report on the condition of the dilithium crystal chamber, there was nothing. The S.E.C. were concerned about the damage done, Anna wouldn't know what the condition was until she saw it with her own eyes. She then lowered her padd and rested it beside her on the right and crossed her legs, thinking more about that for a few.

She wondered if anyone would remember her on the Galaxy, wondered if the Chief Engineer would like the fact she used to be the Chief of Engineer on the Galaxy, so in a sense this was a homecoming to Brianna O'Shea. The one thing troubling Anna the most was the fact she had a lot of people she had to answer to, she wondered if it would threaten 'Commander Suder. Anna also wondered if he was going to have a problem having a woman pretty much take over his department for the refit, she hoped not.

Anna then thought of Ella, and smiled. She'd surprise her by having learned sign language, she then smiled remember when Peckerwood ran into engineering with Brianna chasing and yelling, pecker come back! Lot of the faces she remember where still here, she hoped they remembered her, if they did it would easy the transition and help speed the refit along.

"Captain's Council"
Captain Elaithin Jii, USS Miranda
Captain Darren M'Kantu, USS Galaxy
Captain Frank Therrien, USS Relentless
Captain Rianastarra'cessk, USS Arizona
Captain Eva Paige, USS Atlantis
Captain Juan Carlos Holmes, USS Icarus
Captain Seamus Murdock, USS Anduril
Captain Rebecca Weber, USS Texas
Captain Stanley Prescott, USS Tornado
Captain Jim Westmoreland, Starbase 212

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

Captain's Lounge
Starbase 212

Several days later...

Captain Elaithin Jii took the raktajino the waiter brough to him, even as the other Captains sharing the table with him accepted thier own beverages.

The hot Andorian tea seemed cold in Captain Frank Therrien's hands. Evie Sievert, the Relentless' helm chief, had slipped into a coma the previous night. They'd been friends for a long time, since he'd been given command of the USS Tiberius, his ship before theRelentless. He'd been down to visit her in sickbay before catching the shuttle to the Starbase 212 with Stanley. The company of officers with similar weights on their shoulders could be comforting.

Miranda and Galaxy had both made it back intact - well, as intact as they were. Miranda's primary and secondary hulls had remerged, and, he was told, plasma fires burning on both hulls during the merger had essentially fused them togehter - they would never separate as two entities again. A new tertiary hull was on it's way from the Pendragon shipyards, and then the entire vessel would receive it's five-year refit a year early, being uprated to a Pathfinder-II Class vessel. It was expected to take the better part of four months to complete. Miranda's crew, those who weren't taking on temporary assignments, had been issued quarters here on 212. Jii's own quarters had a viewport where he could watch the ship's refit take place.

Galaxy would be receiving a similar treatment. A design team from Pendragon Yards had shown up and descended upon the first ship of the Galaxy Class, declaring that she would eb the first vessel to be refitted to Galaxy III specifications, in wake of the failure of the Galaxy II's design flaws. Jii was happy to note that the new plans did not include a replacement third nacelle, but rather a full upgrade of the ship's propulsion systems.

Relentless herself would be undergoing a similar extensive refit and upgrade cycle, and the crew of that starship would be scattered for a while as well. The damaged nacelles were being replaced, and the gaping hole in the forward saucer section was being repaired. And that was probably only the begining, Therrien suspected.

All ten Captains were sitting in quiet. Jii had met both Rian and Frank during his stint at Starfleet Command following Galvanis - he didn't know if Daren knew them or not. Many of the other Captains had ties to Miranda or Galaxy - Weber had served aboard the ship under Murdock, Westmoreland was her brother, and Paige was the wife of the two siblings other brother. Seamus Murdock was, stragnely, their grandfather - albiet two centuries removed.

"So the entire invitation from the Breen - it was just a setup in the first place?" Therrien asked, breaking the silence.

"It seems that way."Jii responded. "That's what the data the Hazard Team pulled indicates. We were luck - we got a veritable goldmine of intelligence out of that. It seems as though the Hydrans and T'Kith'Kin have been undermining Federation goals for years now, and about six months ago they made contact with the Breen. The capture of Miranda and Galaxy was to be the Breen's "buy-in" so to speak, into that alliance."

Leaning forward and essentially ignoring his brandy, Holmes quipped, "I don't think that those of us who've been out on this border for the past few years are really surprised by that. They've been raiding Cardassian territory ever since the war ended, and we know now that Aval Gor's own supporters were responsible for the attack that destroyed Starbase 521 two years back. It stands to reason that they would form another alliance to try and regain some of their wartime status."

"I'm certainly not," Frank said, "They resent us for holding them to those few systems they control. Gor's covert support of the Kzinti raiders that destroyed Admiral Santino's Battle Group 64 on their border last year was all but proven. I wonder what ramifications the defeat at Havras had on their triad alliance."

"I would think," Captain Westmoreland interjected, "That's it's only drawn them together. The tying factor between those three races seems to be a passionate dislike for the Federation."

"Regretably yes," Daren nodded over his coffee. "Even if I hadn't truly believed that the Breen wished for peace, I did still hold out hope that they might. But with the current leadership, they're locked into the same, sad cycle of conquest to distract from problems at the home front." He shook his head. "I fear we will be seeing them again, Jii - all three of them." He sipped the coffee. ""Is there any official word from Starfleet?"

"I got word from Admiral Price this morning about that." the Bajoran responded. "The Council has decided that, in light of their forces retreating, they are going to classify the Hydrans, T'Kith'Kin and Breen as officially Hostile powers. We're not going to pursue war at this time, unless they do first. They seem to think the peace will be maintained."

"I don't know about you all," Holmes started, "but last I checked, we have two very large ships out there in dock that have been torn to pieces. Seems to me that the deaths of that many Starfleet personnel would qualify as a sign that perhaps such a peace has already been proven unmaintainable."

"Peace is always within reach, Juan Carlos," Daren said with a sad smile. "But both sides have to reach out forit and hold on until the ride is over and they're there. If the Breen - or any of the others - were possess of the will to find peace, they would have been a welcome addition to our friends and allies."

"Agreed." jii said quietly. He had been among those most willing to beleive the Breen were finally putting thier differences with the Federation aside. "Six hundred and two members of my crew died out there. I won't let thier sacrifices be forgotten. And I will tell thier families how they died."

"Lad," Murdock interjected in his thick Scottish brogue. "From what ye've said, ye believe these people to have been behind the terrorist attacks that killed hundreds of thousands of people last year, at Starbase One, on Vulcan, on Alpha Centauri. Do ye really think that the people of the Federation won't be demanding that they be brought to task for that?"

"The Council.." Jii started after a moment, a grimace on his face "Has decided to classify that information for now. They believe that we cannot afford another war right now, and our interests are better served in a more covert form of justice. I'm told Starfleet Intilligence will be directing the majority of it's resources to those three powers. It's possible, that if such .. justice is taken, we will never hear about it.."

"I can't belive they'd be that stupid." Captain Paige finally spoke, having listened to her fellow Captains speak up for some time now. "The people deserve to know who killed thier loved ones - and why."

"Thank Councilor Gravlok for that then." Jii replied, referencing the Tellarite member of the Federation Council. "He's the one who's advocating all the secrecy. As a retired Admiral from during the War, when he was Commander of the Sixth Fleet, he's got a lot of pull with the COuncil. Ross is doing what he can to negate some of his influence, but Gravlok has been at this game a long, long time."

Rian took a slow deep breath as she traced a long thin index finger through the condensation on her glass. "I have been doing this for a very long time. I have seen a lot of things happen; those of you who know me know this and those of you who know my career know that even better. In my experience... classified or not, it will emerge. The empty seats left from this incursion will be noticed, the ships destroyed will be seen, and the story of training exercises will not subsist the reporters who ask questions for very long. Soon, a demand for action will emerge."

"Look, I don't know what the right answer is." Elaithin responded. "I do know this, though. There will be a war. It may not be today, it may not even be next year. But it will come. And if the Federation Council isn't going to prepare for one, it's going to be up to us."

A sad smile came from his fellow Bajoran as the Icarus' captain leaned back in his seat. "Isn't it always?"

"That's what wariors do," Daren nodded as he sat his coffee down on the table. "We prepare for war, and pray for peace. Even if it's only a few of us that prepare, even if it's only the few of us here at the table, Jii."

"Agreed, all of us here, in this room. And anyone you can trust. Prepare your ships, prepare your crews. Pass word of what happened at Breen and Havras to other commanders. We'll do it that way if we have to, and keep each other up to date of anything we find out that Starfleet Intelligence doesn't deign to pass on."

Daren nodded without replying. There were, after all, no words that needed to be said.

"Are we all in agreement then?"

"Ye went out of yuir way to do whatever you could for me and mine when we came forward in time, Jii. I'd follow ye into hell, if needs be." Murdock replied first.

Paige was next. "Atlantis has always stood ready to answer the Miranda's call - no matter who her Captain may be. I don't see a reason to change that."

The Lazari woman at the end of the table sighed as she closed her silver eyes and propped her head up against her arm on the table. "I care not for war, it has uncertain outcomes." She opened her eyes as she angled them up toward the other Captains around her. "But if it comes to that, what option do we have? I stand beside those who stand beside me, my crew is prepared and will be. Captain Elaithin, Captain M'Kantu, if we may have an unofficial report of the situation? What is it the humans say?" She looked at a couple of them. "I shall not tell if you do not?" She smiled slightly. "Perhaps even if your Intelligence Officers could include... or am I overstepping our decision for unspoken, civil disobedience?"

A slight chuckle was heard around the table, and Holmes raised an eyebrow at Arizona's commanding officer. "Clearly you've never met my intelligence team. You'd be amazed how much information can be relayed and still qualify as 'unspoken' to them."

"I'm certain that I can count on 'Commander Saler's support," Therrien nodded thoughtfully, "It's the Federation Liaison Corps that concerns me. They were established to serve as our watchdogs, and this certainly stands as something that they would probably elect to report. I don't trust Legate Lancaster by any measure."

"Agreed," Daren said with a nod, his sad smile still present. "I'll share everything I can - and everything that I can find out from non-Starfleet channels. That informtion can't be placed under seal, after all."

Elaithin tapped his chin for a moment,, and continued. "I've got some friends among the Klingons. the new Federation Ambassador to them, Alexander Rozhenko, served under an associate of mine. I'll talk to Captian Kira on DS9, as well - maybe she can see about bringing the Cardassians around on our side this time."

"What about Picard?" Rebecca asked, naming the Captain of the Federation's flagship.

"I don't know." Elaithin replied. The Enteprrise is the most watched ship in the Fleet. It may be to early to bring him in. We'll have to have someone to speak to him quietly."

Captain Jim Westmoreland, the Commander of Starbase 212, was the last to respond. "I'll see what I can to do start stockpiling materials. If you're right, and there's a war, this base be one of the main bases for the war effort. I'll get us ready for that."

"Rumor has it that deMercereau's transferrring her flag to SB 447, on the Breen border, and is being placed in charge of maintaining the peace along there," Therrien said, relaying a piece of information that Doctor Arkolis had overheard when the injured deMercereau was receiveing a conference call in sickbay, "I'm certain that she can be counted on to do the same..."

"And I'm fairly sure that I can speak for most of 12th Fleet when I say that we're behind this. Michael Flynn might prove to be a bit of a problem," Therrien said, recalling the USS Covenant's captain's statements about the nature of the Breen threat. Whatever Flynn's thoughts, the Breen did have a role to play, or the Hydrans and T'Kith'Kin would never have approached them in the first place.

"Good." Jii replied, and leaned back in his chair. This felt right, in some inexplicable fashion. All of it. If the Federation wasn't going to prepare for what was coming, then the men and women of Starfleet - the ones who would pay they heaviest toll - would handle it themselves.

They were, after all, the best there was at what they did.

OOC: Compiled by Francis Byrne and Pat Weber

"Epilogue"

The following is excerpted from:
"The United Federation of Planets; Volume 28: A History",
By Victor Elaithin and Crescent Henderson, Writers
Federation News Service Publications, Circa 2412

****

The United Federation of Planets

In the days following the Battle of Havras, the Federation Council reviewed the reports filed by Captain M'Kantu, Captain Elaithin, Captain Therrien, and Fleet Admiral deMercereau.  After much consideration, the Tellarite representative, Councilor Gravlok, proposed that the matter be kept quiet to avoid causing undue panic among the citizens. His reasoning was that the Federation had lost too much in the previous war to afford another only six years later.  If word reached the citizens, the reaction would be one of outrage and worry, and the people would call on Starfleet to hunt down and destroy those who had killed their sons and daughter on the Miranda, on Galaxy, and on the ships of the 12th Fleet. There was also the mountainous amount of information being reviewed by Starfleet Intelligence that those vessels’ Hazard Teams had captured, indicating the possibility of those powers' involvement in the horrible terrorist attacks of October 1st, 2379. Councilor Gravlok proposed that SFI’s findings be classified as well, indicating caution would be better than what would be a common desire if that were true - the exacting of swift and sure retribution. President Nan Bacco had, reluctantly agreed, though she expressed a great deal of distaste for the same sort of secrets that had led to the resignation of her predecessor, Naresh Raheem, a year before.

Deciding that this secrecy would ultimately result in disaster, Captain Elaithin Jii of the USS Miranda called a meeting of trustworthy commanding officers within Starfleet.  Though it took considerable effort for all of them to shake their Federation Liaison Corps watchdogs, Captains M'Kantu, Elaithin, Therrien, Rian, Paige, Holmes, Murdock, Weber, Prescott, and Westmoreland gathered on Starbase 212 to discuss the current state of affairs.  The result of this meeting was an informal mutual assistance pact.  In the future, those captains, and others that would be introduced later, would provide each other with classified information - as well as information from some less-than-usual channels -  to avoid the unprepared position that Starfleet had been in at the beginning of the Dominion War.

Within a month, Starfleet Command quietly shifted forces to the Federation's northern borders.  The 12th Fleet and 13th Fleet, under the command of Fleet Admiral Irene deMercereau and Admiral Pavel Henderson were deployed to the Talvas Sector, the resource rich colonial sector the stretched along the border from Starbase 212 to Starbase 514. Admiral deMercereau immediately moved her flag to Starbase 447 and began to organize the region for quick mobilization against a Breen or T'Kith'Kin threat.  The Federation 10th Fleet, under the command of Admiral William Valerian, was deployed to the Hydran Sector around Jouret. Pendragon Shipyards, one of the primary shipbuilding facilities in the last decade - rivaled only by Utopia Planetia itself, began subtly increasing their output to the point that it would be doubled by the end of the year.

Not all of the Federation was ready for another war, but quietly, in certain key places, thanks to the actions of a few Captains, some places would be prepared when the time came.

****

The Breen Confederacy

In the days following the Battle of Havras, Thot Gor turned his attention to internal affairs.  Over the following three months, he conducted a lightning campaign against those who had been freed by the extensive damage dealt to the Breen Neural Net.  During the course of the campaign, he defeated no less than twelve rival warlords, and secured the entire Confederacy to his banner.

In the final days of his campaign, he fought bitterly against the forces commanded by Thot Val, his greatest rival from the Dominion War.  In the end, Thot Val slipped away before Gor could defeat his forces at Pratnar.  In retaliation, Thot Gor purged Thot Val's family, as well as that of the deposed Governor Born, and told the general public that Val was killed in action.

The Breen Confederacy remained a confederacy in name only, which Gor retained as a private joke.  After securing his borders, he established himself as 'Aval', the title he claimed for himself at the Battle of Havras, meaning 'Protector'. His first act as the formal leader of the Breen Confederacy was to create an Internal Security Division, who he set to the tasks of securing the Neural Net and locating Thot Val.

Aval Gor immediately appointed Thot-Khar Agrach to serve as the new commander of the Breen Confederate Navy.  Agrach took for his flagship the battlecruiser BCS Falgvor. Reports of aggressive border skirmishes between the Breen Navy and Cardassian Republic Defense Force and Rihannsu Naval Vessels immediately begin to filter across the Federation border, which remained surprisingly quiet.

Reports persisted that the Breen minefield had been enhanced and expanded, making entry into their territory a deathtrap. Long range telescopes seemed to indicate large-scale shipbuilding efforts, though multiple spatial distortions in the region had long caused accurate intelligence to be difficult to come by.

****

The Hydran Sovereignty

Commander Garo'fr'th and Commander N'fth'nor withdrew their forces to Hydran space and reported the invasion attempt's failure to the Hydran Queen.  The Queen, despite her extreme displeasure, only ordered the two to step up their operations on the border between Federation and Hydran space.  In the following three months, they meet with middling success, Garo'fr'th convincing the people of Barzan to form an alliance, and N'fth'nor capturing Starbase 185.  The Federation continued not to acknowledge them as a threat, and relied on Admiral Valerian to hold them back while SFI formulated a plan.

****

The T'Kith'Kin Hive

Like his Hydran counterparts, Commander Gr'Chinick withdrew his forces to T'Kith'Kin space, having abandoned a fight that was unable to be salvaged. Suspicion ran rampant among the Hive that the Queen's Chosen - Gr'Chinick - would find himself out of favor after the defeat. Gr'Chinick, however, emerged from the incident not only unscathed, but with a larger power base. This may have been largely due to the slaughter of numerous of Gr'Chinick's political rivals at the hands of the Queen herself.

From there, the Hive began a regrouping of their forces and began planning for another day when the Federation and the Hive would meet in combat. The apparent destruction of the Hive by the T'Kari was confirmed as a fraud by probes sent by Starfleet Intelligence, who were able to confirm a a fully functioning society. The probe stopped transmitting data relatively shortly thereafter. It was assumed that the T'Kith'Kin had some manner of detecting any sort of technological craft, making surreptitious entry into their borders near impossible.

Most of the fault for the failure of the plan was leveled at the feet of the Breen, and relations between the two powers became strained, most notably as a result of Aval Gor's unwillingness to accept a measure of responsibility for the disaster at Havras. This led only to a strengthening of ties between the T'Kith'Kin and the fourth power - though they had not yet entered the Galactic political scene at that time. The Hydrans, removed from their triad of allies by many light years, remained pointedly neutral in the squabbling of the alliance members.

OOC: For those of you wondering, the title is a song written by my best friend.

"Here's to the End"

Captain Juan Carlos Holmes
Commanding Officer, USS Icarus

Major Joral Anton
Rogue Squadron XO, USS Miranda

--Sickbay, USS Icarus--

Holmes stood over the still form of his former subordinate. He'd been very proud of what Mr. Joral had accomplished in the past couple of years, finally settling into his chosen career, returning to the fighters, and becoming XO of one of the most elite squadrons in the fleet. But More than that, in their recent conversations, Holmes had seen other changes.
Joral had more confidence, the leadership qualities that his superiors always knew he possessed had finally surfaced, and it looked like the young man had a legitmate career ahead of himself.

The Icarus' captain knew, though, that everything may have just changed. In the previous battle, Joral's entire flight was destroyed, accounting for most of Rogue Squadron's rather heavy casualties. Holmes had read the names; Gunner, Sinistrari and Wilder, all dead, and Joral himself lying on a biobed in the Icarus' sickbay following the Miranda and others back to Starbase 212. Holmes knew what it was like to lose personnel under his command; Joral, on the other hand, had never experianced it until now. His former commander could only hope that the man wouldn't be destroyed by it.

Nodding to Dr. Wagner, he watched as the young woman moved towards the sedated fighter pilot and pressed a hypospray to his neck. The young Bajoran's eyes fluttered, and he came slowly awake. Looking about, he saw Holmes, and his eyes focused. "Captain? But... no... I'm supposed to be dead..."

Holmes smiled sadly. "Not today, Mr. Joral. Captain Eliathin still needs you."

"NO!" Joral's rancor surprised everyone in the sickbay. "I can't be alive! I don't want to be alive! Why me, Dammit?!? Why the hell did I have to live?!?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Holmes saw Dr. Wagner moving towards the pilot, as Joral's screams continued.

"They're all dead! Gunner, Wilder...." He stopped, and his eyes went wide, fear contorting the mans face. "Medea... no, oh please, Prophets, no. Why her? Why not me? WHY COULDN'T YOU TAKE ME INSTEAD?!?!? WHY..."

His last word was cut off as two orderlies grabbed hold of him and Dr. Wagner pushed another hypo to his neck. His struggles lasted another couple of seconds, and he fell back to the bed, losing conciousness.

Holmes had no idea what had just occurred. He'd seen reactions from officers who had lost personnel, but never one that violent. Somehow, he got the impression that he would have to have a long talk with the man someday. For now, they had to get Joral back to the Miranda, and hope that someone there could take care of him.

Stepping forward, Holmes looked down on the slumbering form of Joral Anton. Even in his sedated slumber, tears were streaming from the young man's eyes. Holmes wiped one away, and nodded. "Good luck to you, Major. You will recover from this one day. We will meet again..."

With that, the captain of the Icarus turned and strode out.

"Space Walk"
Ensign Jennai Angelique

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

Tertiary Bridge,
USS Miranda

Jennai swore as the ship shook again under concentrated fire. When the imminent warp core breach message came, Jennai knew the ship was toast.

Quickly, she keyed in automatic commands to have it head directly towards the nearest enemy with a timer just under the breach clock.

She had been in a similar sort of circumstance before, and knew that at least, she would eventually come back. Although, like the time she had made a hole in the hull of the Promy and spaced herself, it would be quite painful and take ages.

Jordan knew what to do at least, and everyone was evacuated safely.

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

Escape Pod floating in space

Watching through the window of the escape pod she was in, Jennai grinned as the exploding core seriously damaged one of the bad ships. Turning to the other two in the pod with her, she spoke, "Hold on tight. Shockwave."

The pod spun around and eventually stopped spinning. Although, Jennai was not happy about what she heard.

One of the others gulped, "Damn! We have a leak."

Jennai nodded, "Yes."

Moving to one side, she opened a cabinet, looking at the contents.

{Oh well. }

Taking out the two suits, she pushed them over to the two men as she searched around inside.

"What?? They put two suits in? Shit."

Finding a small laser torch and a bit of metal, she nodded, "Yes. Now put them on."

"Hey! I outrank you.. I am Lt jg Jackson, and that wouldn't be.."

"Be what??"

"Umm.. Proper."

"Listen up. Trust me.. I will be fine. Give me a few days and I will come around & smack you on the back of the head."

The other shrugged, "Huh??"

She sighed, "No comprede englishe? I am Ensign Angelique. Don't you listen to scuttlebutt?"

"The nudey chick?"

"Yes. That all you heard?"

"Your name is familiar...... Weren't you on the Prometheus? The pyro one?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Didn't you space yaself?"

"Yes.. See? and I am still here. Now get suited before its too late."

Once they started getting into ev suits, Jennai started working on the hole. She had just finished it when there was a crack. A section of the other side fell forwards a bit and then suddenly stopped before moving back.

Jennai gulped and knew what was about to happen. Quickly, she opened her mouth to let rapidly escaping oxygen find a nice unpainful way to be sucked out.

As her vision went black, she saw the pod crack in half and fall away, with one of the guys grabbing her rapidly dying body.

"Intermediary Consequences"

Ensign Saul Bental
Intelligence Officer
USS Galaxy

Results. Consequences. Some times I imagine what it's like to live in a result-free world, where you can break someone's jaw without fearing a reprimand or to be struck back, kiss a pretty girl without being sued for sexual harassment or asked to marry her, or where you can fail Math class and still leave all those horrific four-dimensional equations behind you.

Or be born to a certain family without having all its weight and legacy tied around your neck like a grindstone.

I often wonder, if in such a universe, our lives would still have some meaning.

****

Saul sat on a bed, just like before the battle, with two major differences.

First, he wasn't hungry. The first thing he did once the Commander Henderson relieved him from the bridge was to rush to ten forward and grab a nice plate of Shawarma wrapped in a Laffa*, with some pickled cucumbers and French Fries inside.

And second, the bed wasn't his own. When he returned to his quarters in deck 7, he found out that he had a new window – the kind of window you needed to place a force field in, if you didn't want to find yourself floating in space.

So now, he was several chambers away, in the quarters of a dead engineering officer, until a living engineering officer would arrive to fix the breach.

Dobryin gave him the task of analyzing and filtering the primary data acquired by the Hazard teams, with emphasis on Hydran-related data. SFI Headquarters would receive all the raw data, of course, but someone needed to go over the material and let them know if there are any specific points of interest, and so Saul was among the first Starfleet personnel to get a hold on that Intel goldmine.

Saul was a little puzzled by the fact that his superior gave him such a heavy task before even holding an intake interview with him. When he got his previous assignment, Lt.Commander Stom didn't allow him to even enter the desk's offices before interviewing him, and so Saul had two days off before he started to work.

He liked Dobryin's approach better.

The first thing he did was to browse through the Hydran Tactical database. He quickly compiled an up-to-date report about the contemporary classes in the Hydran fleet. Apparently, not much had changed – they still had three main types of vessels : Battlecruisers carrying Hellbore cannons (Like the ones who's death lances he helped deflect), Smaller cruisers and Corvettes carrying mainly Fusion beams, and finally Starfighter carriers.

The Corvettes were the most interesting. Apparently, the Hydrans developed more classes of that size. None of them was a match for a Galaxy class, but in great numbers they could offer a fleet commander great flexibility. If you had fifty Corvettes, you could strike twenty supply convoys or converge upon a single Federation Starbase.

Saul found the exact class of Corvette which his destroyed, and spent the better part of an hour modeling a miniature version of it before ordering the nearby replicator to create a replica of the ship. It was his first space kill, and although Saul wasn't a memento collector (at least not for keeps), he thought this was worth the effort.

Once the model was made, he proceeded to look over some information about the base itself. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for – the patron. Each Hydran household, ship or base had their own minor patron god.

"Vaviz-zious" he tasted the letters on his tongue. Then, he cross-referenced the base's patron's name with the data SFI already had about Hydran religion.

"Supremacy through deceit.", he mumbled.

Indeed, the selection of the patron god proved intriguing. Saul realized this could think of two meanings. Either the Hydrans intended to gain supremacy over the Federation through deceit (which they did pretty well, Saul admitted to himself), or supremacy over the other allies.

He didn't get any reports about the implications of the battle on the Breen-Hydran-T'Kith'Kin alliance, but perhaps he could find some fact there to support the latter theory.

Saul grinned – if you work with conspirators, don't be surprised if they conspire against you! If this could lead to something, perhaps it'll help them find a weakness in the alliance. Divide and conquer, the good ole' Roman way.

He wrote a quick note on his PADD, and then continued to the third and last thing he wanted to check.

The Hazard team managed to get their hands on some information about the alliance's logistic and commercial activities. Saul ran an analysis program which swiftly compiled a list of certain and probable suppliers to the alliance.

After a moment, his face darkened as he read the fifth name on the list.

' * Siave Shuni export-import incorporated.'

"Shite."

Months later, that moment will still echo in Saul's mind, as well as the actions that followed.

As the first Intelligence analyst who got his hands on the material, he could highlight certain spots of information, but also divert the next analysts' attention from any spots he wanted them to overlook. Not that Saul was afraid that anyone back at SFI would connect Siave Shuni inc. to his family – there were enough separate links between the Bentals to the dummy corporation to keep it well detached from them – but he didn't want to take the chance.

Moreover, he didn't want to take the risk that his family will find out that this link was exposed.

Not yet.

The rest couple of hours were uneventful, as he browsed some other, lesser points of interest. Eventually, he prepared a full report and sent it to Dobryin for approval

Ironically, he realized that the desk that's going to get the report at SFI HQ was Stom's.

=/\= "You have one message from Lt.Commander Stom, Starfleet Intelligence Headquarters" =/\=

"So fast?" Saul demanded, furrowing his brow. "I didn't know that Bolians were telepathic… Computer, please display."

The image of the Bolian Intelligence officer appeared on the screen. He was sitting on his desk, the eternal heap of PADDs resting by his left hand like an ancient Aztec pyramid.

"Good day Mr. Bental. I just wanted to know how ship life is treating you. I understand you were involved in some sort of battle – we only got preliminary data, but I'm sure the rest will flow soon via more secured channels – but I'm sure you survived it intact."

"I'm alive, thank-you-very-much." Saul chuckled at the image, reaching for his right anckle. He sprained it during the final minutes of the battle, but with all the severe injuries he didn't want to burden sickbay even more, so he suffered from a minor limp ever since.

"Also," Stom continued, "I hope you thought again about what I said about Strategy and Tactics. It's not a shame to admit that you were mistaken, and I will aid you to get a transfer to an Analyst position if you desire."

Saul chuckled again, rubbing his ankle. No, he was here to stay.

One last thing – I was contacted by your cousin Devoss. He was disappointed that you were no longer on Earth, and said 'Shana Tova' and that he would like you to join the family meal during the Pesah holiday this year. He told me that they haven't seen you for a long time. Family is an important part of our lives, Mr. Bental, I advise you not to neglect it. Stom out."

Saul's chuckle died.

Some times I chase the agenda, he mused, and some times it chases me.

The game was on again.

{{OOC: * - For those of you who are interested, Shawarma in Laffa is the Mediterranean counterpart of the Mexican Burrito, only with Turkey meat and Humus. Bon appetite!}}

[Backpost: Shortly before The Galaxy's arrival are Starbase 212.]

"Not-so Rude Awakenings"

By
Lt. jg Dr. Klaus Fienberg,
Medical Officer
&
Lt. jg Cora Dobryin,
Cheif Intelligence Officer

Location: Sickbay, Ward 2

Things still seemed far to hazy for Cora's liking. Pain prevented her from wasting too much thought on the matter. Heck it was a struggle just to stay awake. If this was any sign of how Galaxy's battle ended, the ship and crew must be in pretty sad shape. A groan managed to escape her lips as Cora struggled to make sense of her new surroundings.

"Ahh. Lieutnant. you're awake. You must feel like an Intrepid class landed on you. I assure, you you're fine. Just stay still, I'm still tending to you."

Her body hadn't quite caught up with the signal not to move. Instantly Lt Dobryin regretted it. Another cry of pain kept her from doing anything more.

"Just stay still, You'll be fine." Klaus actually felt better tending to the wounded instead of galavanting around in Vr'lu, destroying minefields.

"Intrepid class, try a Galaxy class or something of a similar size Doc," C! ora responded. "So how bad is the damage?"

"Well, I said Intrepid because they have landing gear." He worked on a small scar with his dermal regenerator. "As I said, You'll be fine. You were....knocked around.....pretty badly, but you're under my care now. I haven't lost a patient that could have been saved."

Cora knew things could be alot worse. "If the enemy had targeted any closer to Intelligence my whole team, including me would now be space debris. So I doubt landing gear would make a difference."

"Yes....very true. As much as all of this is begining to wear on me, I would have prefered to have been aboard in sickbay, saving as many lives as I could. But we escaped. We quite obviously removed the threat of that minefield."

"How long have I been out?"

"In and out of consciouness for 2 days I think. I've been pretty busy myself. Too busy to keep score."

Briefly Cora let that al! l sink in. "That explains why things seem so hazy or my recollection of them missing all together. How long until I can be released from here?"

"I want to keep you overnight, for observation. We should be arriving at the Starbase soon. Not sure which one, but I'm surprised this shipis even holding together." Klaus seemed silently sad. "The Galaxy has lost it's 3rd nacelle, in case you didn't know. It will likely require a massive refit."

Slowly Cora risked nodding her head slightly. "Yeah I'm surprised it is holding together. I'd heard about the 3rd nacelle just prior to that lucky hit close to the Intelligence center."

"Our losses were staggering. I'm not even entirely sure how many we lost. I awoke here in sickbay myself, not to long ago. Our method of disabling the minefield plunged everyone on Vr'lu into unconsciousness."

There was still some pain but more than that she felt exhausted, even though she'd been in and out of consciousness for the last two days. "I imagine we will have quite a lot of time on a starbase or sent on temporary assignments until the refit is complete."

"I don't know what I'm going to do......not yet at least....We'll see. Personally, I've be happy to just go on a long personal leave. I need a vacation."

Cora understood his sentiment well, "Yeah a break would be a good thing. Though I don't know either what I'm going to do." Pausing as his comment from a moment earlier begins to sink in. "If you just woke here in sickbay what are you doing on duty? Thank you for everything."

"It's been long enough. And there were enough casuallties that I was required to serve now. It's my job, my calling. Now get some rest. We'll be at Starbase..... 212? Yes, thats it. We'll be there soon."

A brief nod acknowledged his commen! t, "Yeah I'll do my best. Theres tons of paperwork I have to have ready and a full battle damage assesment on the Intelligence center." She paused then slowly raised a hand to indicate she knew what he'd say, "I'm under medical supervision until I'm released and then more than likely orders to take it easy. Heard that lecture before. Thats what happens when one becomes too dedicated to their job," Cora gave him a tired smile then.

"I've actually been told the same thing myself." Klaus smiled and walked away.

"News"

Lt. jg Klaus Fienberg.
Medical Officer

Location: Fienberg Family Quarters

Kay was off somewhere. Klaus did not know where. He had been working too hard since waking up in sickbay. As soon as he could walk and think coherently following the destruction of the minefield. Wether or not the rest of the crew thought so, Klaus had a slightly enlarged Ego. While the warriors 12th fleet save the ships, they wouldn't have been able to get through, without his help.

~2 professions now! Doctor AND Minesweeper.~

To add icing to Dr. Fienberg's cake, he had the final peice to his puzzle. The Perfect cyberneural connection. All Klaus needed to do now, was adaptt these designs to use on a human body. That wouldn't take long.

Suddenly, the desktop PC beeped.


MESSAGE
urgent
==================================

klaus, we need to speak. some time during the next several months. knowing you, you probably have a leave reservered or something. and i hope you've mad progress on our project......sometime soon.

erik

==================================

The message was short and direct, and important.

~What is it now? What is going on Erik?~

Unfortunately, he had no reason to go to DS9. Now....how to get there......needed to be covert, cloak and dagger. No one must know....

"2,000 Light Years Away" - Part 3: "Mad Season"

Commander Cassius Henderson,
Executive Officer

Mr. Lysander Pennington,
Cat/Live In Roommate

Soundtrack: Matchbox 20 "Black and White"

****

Commander Henderson's Quarters,
Deck 8,
USS Galaxy-A

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

March 3, 2381

Dear Cassius,

I know this was the last thing you ever wanted me to do, but.... Here it is. I can't help who I am, and I need to be free. Starfleet isn't going to give me that, and I can't stand letting my father win. So I'm going to be leaving now. I have to find my way on my own for a while. I don't know what the future holds, but life in the fleet is just tearing me up right now.

Cass, I know you're going to want to come find me. You'll want to make me into your next crusade against injustice. Please don't. I'd hate for you to throw away your happiness on me. It'd make me feel guilty, and I don't handle guilt well. You know that. So live your own life, and have that career you've been dreaming of. I heard they made you the executive officer permanently. Congratulations, you deserve it, no matter what some self serving Director of SFI says.

I guess we won't have to tackle the whole who loves who question, now. We never did get to it, and that was my fault. I'm just too insecure, Cass. I don't trust myself. The first thing that comes to mind when we start talking about our feelings is to scream and hide in my closet. God! I react to my own feelings like a frightened and awkward pre-teen. Anyway, you wanted the truth. Here it is.

I felt it. Just like you did.

So there, it's out and you can let me go. Find some nice girl. Or even better, Ella Grey once told me about a woman you saw for a while, Taryn Dalheimer. She seemed a lot more ideal for you than I do. Why don't you find her while she's still there. Don't wait forever to say what you really mean. You could wind up like me, stuck where you don't want to be because you didn't have the spine to speak up.

Anyway, some last minute details. I won't be able to take my things when I go, since I'm kind of trying to be quiet about this. There are a few that I'd like you to hang onto. The rest you can give to the tactical department. Much as I was something of a stuck up, irritating, self centered brat, they accepted me, and were my family. So, if you could keep my old books, I'd rather they not wind up on anyone else' shelf, and I know you'll appreciate them. Also, my cat. I know, you didn't know I had one. I'm kind of alergic to him, so I don't mention it much. It's a little embarrassing. His name is Lysander, and I got him from an Algolian trader who was willing to throw in a first edition of "Pebble in the Sky" if I took him. Seems their skin has a violent reaction with cat fur that he didn't know about. I hope you have more luck with him than I did.

Well, that's all, I think. This is so draining. Don't get me wrong, Cass, I'll always value our time, but I just can't stay. I wish it could have been better but... It just wasn't meant to be.

With regrets, Rima A. Pennington

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

Cass threw the PADD at the bed, and watched it bounce off the matress and skid across the floor on the far side, ending it's journey against the rear wall of his bedroom. It was the original PADD. No copies. Walking to the bed, he pulled off his uniform top and lay down, deep in thought.

"MeoOOOOOoooooOOOw?"

Lysander, Rima Pennington's shorthair cat, poked his head in the door, cocked to one side as if to say ~You okay?~. When Cassius didn't respond, the feline ran across the floor and leapt up onto first the bed and then his chest.

"MeoooOOow?"

Cass opened his eyes and willed himself to pet the cat. "You too?" Cass asked Lys, wondering whether Lysander missed her as much as he did. ~I'm a grown man. I can handle myself... ... ...I'm talking to a cat.~

Of course, Lys answered in the only way he knew.

"Ppppppprrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr."

"Thanks, Lys. I get it," he said, and waited for the cat to circle and lay down on his chest, as so often was the case. Why he liked it, Cass would never be able to fathom, but lately, the cat had been through quite a bit, so it was probably a security thing. During the Battle of Havras, Lys had holed up in his office and narrowly survived a Breen boarding party.

He stayed like that for an hour, then decided to go play with Cass' fish tank. Cass got up, checked to make sure the fish weren't going to get eaten, then headed out to gather his team. If only for the damned cat.

“Warrior”

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe

*USS Galaxy Main Engineering*

Dhani launched from behind her hiding point. What followed was her dance of death. A mixture of moves that sprung from gymnastics and the martial arts, every move she had ever learnt, every adaptation she had ever created she used with deathly force.

As she launched across the smoke filled room she put herself into a spin. Crashing into one Breen she stuck her blade deep into him and then yanked it up, splitting him in two. She didn’t wait to see its effect on their environmental suits, just turned; her eyes locked on her next target.

His weapon was pointed at her. But she was close enough to smack his weapon away with her left fore-arm. Using the base of her right palm she smacked his helmet. Her hand went straight through the visor. With her hand still stuck in said Breens helmet she quickly bent down and grabbed his crotch. Lifting him up and throwing him into the three that stood behind him. They all went tumbling to the floor and were swiftly killed when a near by ensign shot them.

She was by the entrance now, and as another five entered she grabbed one by his neck, turning him round as he fired, he shot two of the four. As the others turned to fire upon her she used him as a shield. As the Breens body slumped in her arms she jumped up grabbing hold of an exposed support beam. Swinging upwards she released herself behind them jumping down on the floor. She kicked one of the Breen from behind, sending him flying across the room into the cross fire. Turning she carved her way through the other.

“Cover me!” she shouted as she moved to remove the blockade. It was heavy and she was in a venerable position. Beads of sweat dripped off her nose as she strained to move the broken bulkhead the Breen had used to keep the doors open. Glancing down the corridor she heard a commotion, more fire lit up the hall. The cavalry had arrived. As she dropped the bulkhead to one side she noticed something in the corner of her eye. She didn’t have time to react; the blast hit her square in the shoulder. Everything slowed down as she dropped to her knees and then to the deck. The pain rippled through her body so much that her scream was lost before it reached her throat. Opening her eyes she stared down the barrel of a gun. Or to be more accurate it was some sort of phaser rifle, beyond its point aimed at her head, was the same expressionless helmet. This was it.

Her time to die.

“Broken Cog”

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe – Engineer

*USS Galaxy, Main Engineering*

The one thing that pissed Dhani off was when someone thought they could just tamper with ships systems and it wouldn’t affect them. As she read the fluctuation read outs from the shields she traced part of the problem back to the deflector. She could see the modifications that ‘someone’ had made up in the bridge. It wouldn’t have made much difference if it hadn’t been for the fact that she and Suder had been tampering with the shields themselves for the last few days making their own modifications. Begrudgingly she grabbed her tool kit and headed for Deflector control, she could rectify the system modifications from there, and then at least the ‘someone’ on the bridge would actually get what they wanted and stop messing up all her hard work.

Trying to get from one deck to another in this ship was beginning to get difficult. As the ship scraped through volley after volley it jumped, rocked, shuddered and threw Dhani around like a little rag doll. But eventually after some time and several knocks bumps and bruises she made it to Deflector control. As the doors hissed open she stumbled in, reaching for the nearest console. Her fingers began to fly over the controls; bypassing the modifications she had made earlier she set up the wide-area tachyon pulse and routed the controls to the bridge.

One job down, she mused, several million more to go. Leaving deflector control she pegged it back to Main Engineering, while Suder was up on the bridge she felt that it was her responsibility to make sure his beloved Lady stayed in tact.

She thought that it was only under the influence of fire water that made her bounce off each wall but today it seemed that she was trying to run on a role-a-coaster, and the thought of fire water was all that seemed to keep her going.

As the doors swished open Dhani skidded in. Her tool kit bounced on the floor and her butt neatly perched on the edge of her seat as her eyes followed by her fingers danced across the console. The damage reports kept flowing in at a phenomenal rate. It was difficult to keep up. Rotating the shields around she tried to divert the volleys off the ships primary sections. But it seamed that she just couldn’t keep up, the shots just came in from every side. Her heart jumped into her throat, she could see the events unfolding but was unable to stop it…. The ship shuddered, several explosions went off around her. Her hands quickly darted away from the panel as it short circuited. She heard several thuds around her and without even looking she shouted,

“Get some medics down here, NOW!”

She cursed at the darkening, smouldering, console that no longer responded. Glancing over her shoulder she saw Jason lying on the deck, shooting from her chair she slid across the floor to his side.

A broken cog!

“Get me a med pack.” She shouted to the nearest person. At her demand one came sliding across the floor. Above her pipes had split, gushes of smoke curdled from them. Around her bulkheads fell down crashing onto the deck, she leaned forward over Jason sheltering him form the flying debris. As the room settled, all be it for a moment, she opened up the kit, its contents spilled out across the floor, she cursed, again. She could see Jason shaking with the pain. She wasn’t a doctor but she knew that he had extensive plasma burns.

“Hey,” she said softly taking his burnt hand gently in her own, “relax, everything is going to be alright. This will help.” She went to press the hypo against his neck, but it was badly injured. Instead she pressed it against his right calf, the only part she could see that was intact. She could see him settle, his shaking reduced, but the pain was still etched across his face, that and the shock. And no doubt all his life’s memories rushed through his mind. All she wanted to do was take him in her arms and sprint him to sick bay holding his hand throughout, whispering words of comfort and strength. But that wasn’t possible. She checked over his uniform, his com badge was burnt to a cinder. She sighed inwardly and grabbed hers and stuck it on his chest. Tapping it she called out,

“Emergency medical beam out, straight to sick bay.”

“Environmental systems are down!” someone shouted out over the din.

“There’s a hull breach on deck forty!” another shouted.

“I’m on it.” Dhani said standing up, her heart going out to the empty space on the floor, hold on Jason just hold on; she prayed. The tension spread as she keyed in the commands to the console, beads of sweat dotted her brow as she finally managed to manually erect the temporary force-fields.

“Lieutenant,” Jiiles called out, “they are separating the ship.” He informed her.

Gee, Dhani thought, they couldn’t make our job any easier could they?

“They need more power to weapons.” Ensign something-or-other shouted.

“I have the separation.” Jilles said, “Get them more fire power.” He ordered.

“Aye Sir.” Dhani responded. She moved quickly diverting power from auxiliary to the weapons as the ship separated.

“The dam magnetic moorings are shot!” she heard Jiiles grumble. A few tension filled minutes later the separation was complete.

The ship never seemed to stop shaking, shuddering or screaming, even though she thought she had a sure footing she tumbled to one side; falling into a miss-placed bulkhead.

“Hull fractures throughout all decks!”

“Primary EPS networks down”

“Ablative armour is depleted in most arrears.”

“Shields are down to twenty-one percent, phasers are down to sixty-eight percent."

The reports just kept coming.

Dhani stumbled again trying to grab something, anything, to steady herself. Finally she found a deserted console its previous occupant lay dead on the floor.

“I’m diverting power to structural integrity.” she called out to anyone who cared.

“We are venting plasma from the starboard nacelle.”

It just didn’t stop!

“Precious”

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe – Engineer.

*Main Engineering*

As Dhani looked up at the Breen, her own reflection staring back at her, she tensed. Her shoulder throbbed but she knew that the pain would be gone. Soon there would be no pain, ever again.

She waited for what seemed like an eternity and still nothing happened. She wanted to close her eyes but forced herself to look death in the eyes. And still nothing happened.

And then he fell on top of her.

At first she didn’t move. Just stayed pinned by the Breen, all the air knocked out of her. Squashed and shocked. After a few minutes she realised what must have happened and turned her face to the side. She could see Jiiles up on one knee, a phayser in his hand. He saved her. It took a lot of effort to push the Breen off, but once she was free Jiiles was standing over her. His arm out stretched for her to take. She could see that he was hurt but he was looking at her as if she was all that mattered. Taking his hand he pulled her up a little harder than expected and she fell slightly against his chest. They stood there for a moment just looking into each others eyes gratitude and sympathy flowing from each to the other. They both jumped as the doors opened again. All phaysers pointed at the door.

Dhani could feel a breeze as all of the occupants left standing, even those on the ground, as they all sighed in relief at the sight of security.

Looking around at the havoc that the Breen had unleashed on their precious Engineering Dhani just felt like crushing each of their heads, even though they were dead. Breen paste might just sell well. Everyone could own a bit of Breen butt! Shaking her head she turned to face Jiiles. They both knew the question. Neither one knew the answer.

What do we do now?

Dhani winced as she moved over to a deserted station. After tapping it and then kicking it the lights powered up and the information poured in.

“We need to get the EPS network up.” She told Jiiles; who stood beside her. He nodded and she saw the pain on his face.

“I’ll go.” She said.

“No.” he replied, “I will go. And I’ll take Turan with me.”

Dhani looked at him, she knew this was no time to argue,

“But what about the Breen? I can fight them off. You’re in no state to…..”

“Lieutenant,” he cut her off, “I have never seen anything like what you just did.” He said not able to bring himself to look at her. “Some day you can teach me. But in the mean time I have use of both arms and I out rank you!” his eyes flittered up to hers a small smile crossed his lips.

“Okay.” Dhani nodded. “I’ll see what I can do on those shields”

As he left Dhani took a look around Engineering. Gee it was a mess, with phaser blast marks that had scorched the wall, smoke still poured from broken pipes. There were so many support beams and Bulkheads all around it was just a maze. To get from one side to the other you had to be a trained acrobat. Gathering up the remaining engineers, the numbers kept getting smaller, she started issuing orders.

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