Federation space station Deep Space 9, late 24th Century

Dr. Bashir's office.

The aged Dr. Bashir, his mind still as sharp as ever, sat down at his desk this fateful morning. Just as he was about to open up a research report, an important notification appeared on his screen. "Ozla Graniv?" Dr. Bashir wondered out loud. "The famous reporter from Trill has a message for me?" He took a sip of his Klingon coffee and opened the message.

Uncomfortable facts was the subject header. Code-name for Section 31 matters, Dr. Bashir thought. He quickly reached around to the side of his smooth data desk pressed the button. The office door quickly shut and locked with a whine of its gears. He started reading through the email's list of documents. She got access to Section 31's files! he realized. He skimmed through the list and picked one with the subject header The Golden Age.

He opened that file and skimmed through the table of contents, and stopped at a picture. He dropped his cup of coffee. The faux ceramic cup shattered, like his heart, into a hundred pieces on impact. He looked at the picture in shock and said "I can't believe this...Our golden age, built upon billions of deaths, by an unsanctioned death squad. Made of... teenagers?" He scrolled through the reports and pieced the heartbreaking story together.

2296, Yorktown station

Vice Admiral Akbor, commander of largest Federation space station in the neutral zone, walked with solemn purpose to his office on the command deck. The crew of the station zipped by him, on their way to and from their work stations in the clean two-toned hallway. The doors of the command deck quickly slid open with their patented, timeless schwiss sound of their hydraulic pistons. The crew stood up and briefly saluted him as he walked inside. He barely paid them any attention at first. Once at his door, he turned around and gave the short double bow of acknowledgment common on his homeworld. The crew returned to work and the commander entered his office, his mind focused on the interesting subspace call he was requested to make.

"Captain Ferguson! It's been a long time since our Mars days!" he said when Captain Ferguson answered the video call.

"It has, Vice Admiral," Captain Ferguson said with his usual deep dulcet voice. "It has."

"So what do you have for me?"

"Emergency request from Starfleet command. There was an incident on the edge of the Alpha Quadrant. Scout ship rescued some refugees from-" he stopped talking, looked down and picked up some papers, then skimmed through them to find what he wanted. "Uh...translator says they're called Cardassians." He looked up at the admiral again. "Command wants you to stick 'em somewhere."

Akbor's Andorian eyebrows curled back away from the eyes, a sign of annoyance. "Do I look like a housing manager, captain?"

"No sir, but Starfleet wants them far away so they (he looks down and reads) what is their name, Cardassia? Whatever, doesn't come looking for them and starting a fight."

"Ugh. Fine, we're the Federation. We help everyone. Klingons, Tamarinds, Romulans, and whatever the ones with the bolts in the necks are called."

"Frankensteinians, Admiral?"

"No, that's the ball chin guys. The ones with the big bolts in their necks, whatever they're called."

Captain Ferguson put the papers down. "So, Admiral, the Hathaway is on the way to your sector. Where do you want to drop them off?"

Akbor pressed a few buttons on his console. The screen changed from Ferguson's image to a map of the sector Yorktown was in. Just ten light-years from the Federation-Romulan neutral zone, it was displayed as a big Starfleet symbol, the curved triangle that also made up their comm-badges. Across the neutral zone, in green color, were worlds belonging to the Romulan star empire. On the Federation side, their worlds were colored blue. At the bottom corner of the map was the territory of the Klingon Empire. Their worlds were colored red. Akbor zoomed in on the worlds in that corner of space close to the border. The closest one was a fresh new colony called New Busan. "Send them to New Busan," he told Ferguson. "If they cause a ruckus, we'll redraw the map and let one of those nutbars deal with them."

"Clever deduction, Admiral. Should I mark that down as the main refugee policy of Yorktown Sector going forward?"

"Please do." He crossed his arms, a bad habit he learned from his human friends like Ferguson. "If they can survive New Busan, they're good enough for Andoria and Earth."

The door swung open. "Admiral," said the crewman, "We've got a sensitive issue with the Klingons!" His voice was nervous, the worry evident in his tone. "Some refugees-!"

"New Busan!" said both the admiral and the captain on the phone.

"Good answer, Admiral." The crewman said in a much calmer voice and he quickly turned around. The office door closed with the same satisfying schwiss sound so many Starfleet crews loved.

New Busan spaceport,

Stardate 2296.0303

2pm local time.

The colony mayor, a short man in his 50s with a slightly receding hairline and a slightly pouchy gut, stood at the entrance to the shuttle bay. Staring at him were 300 Klingons of various ages and genders on one side, and 75 Cardassians also of various ages on the other side. Standing in front of him were Starfleet captains from both delivery ships, holding data tablets and guidebooks. The colony mayor looked displeased and shocked, to be honest.

"I...uh...what's going on here?" asked the colony mayor.

"By the order of the Federation," explained the Andorian (blue-skinned aliens with head antennas) Starfleet captain, standing in front of the Klingons, "your colony will see to the safety and possible integration of these Klingon and Cardassian refugees into the Federation." He stern voice gave no hint of waver.

"But we don't have space for hundreds of refugees!" the colony mayor complained in a squeaky voice.

"You have an entire planet to work with, sir," the human captain standing in front of the Klingons calmly stated. "To help your colony, our ships will remain in orbit for a few days. And we'll even provide an extra industrial replicator."

"But I don't anything about Klingons or Card-ass-eeans! How can I help people I've never even heard of?"

"You should be glad, Mr. Mayor," said the Andorian Starfleet captain. He walked forward and shoved the tablets and books into the colony leader's arms. "My colleague and I brought you homework to catch up on."

The human captain also dumped her guidebooks into the hapless colony leader's arms. "I suggest you get started. Perhaps during your treadmill time as well."

"Oh come on!" The mayor complained. "This is BS! We're a research colony not a dumping ground! Why don't you boldy-"

"Two to beam up," the human captain flipped her communicator and radioed.

"-go and fuc-" the colony leader's tirade was interrupted by the transport energies enveloping the two Starfleet captains. He was now alone with all of the refugees. He looked around the room. "Uh…," he paused uncomfortably, "... welcome to your new home! I'll be right back!" He ran towards the arched exit. "Smithers! Help meeee!" he screamed for his assistant.

New Busan High School, main classroom,

One week later,

The Caitian (furry cat humanoid) teacher rapped her carbon fiber ruler against the side of the lectern. "Students, come to order. Class will begin now." Some of the students groaned as they climbed off the tables and sat properly in their seats. The classroom was mostly composed of humans, with a few Tellarites (furry humanoids), Betazeds (humanoids with spots), Deltans (pretty bald humans), and a short Bzzit Khaht (lizards that are bipeds) in the mix. She did a quick attendance check and noticed that a few class members had returned. "Mr. Oregon, I see you've returned."

The student, a growing teenage boy of 60 kilograms of toned muscle, dazzling smile, and long dark wavy hair framing his forehead, stood up. A bit of stubble appeared under his chin.

"It's good to be home," he explained. "Rigel IV was exciting, but I'm glad to be back in the countryside."

"What did your family do on Rigel IV?" asked the teacher.

"We were shopping for power transmission parts and we won 50,000 credits at a casino."

"Wow!" some of the students said.

Isaiah smirked softly. "We're really good at Vulcan Poker."

The Tellarites laughed heartily, being that they know the Vulcans well as founding Federation members and also know about the Orions (weird humanoids) who inhabit the Rigel area.

The teacher rapped the ruler again. "Thank you for sharing," she said. "Ms. Quan, how was your trip?"

Isaiah sat down and a human teenager with very thin eyebrows stood up. "Mrs. Talllk, I was busy at Yorktown station. I got lots of art supplies for the family business," she said with a cheery voice that the male students adored but the girls did not. "Since there's been peace, the Alpha Quadrant is really interested in arts and crafts these days. My parents want to find alien art so if you see any weird stuff, give me a call."

"Hey I want those credits too!" said Grk the Bzzit Khaht, his eyes spinning as he talks.

"I'll cut you in 20-80!"

"40-60!"

The teacher frowned. "This is not a business meeting! You can discuss this after class!" she ordered.

The rest of the school days followed the pattern the other days did this week, with class paused after lunch. The students carried materials on anti-grav carts from the replicators to the newly started Cardassian Quarter on the edge of town. It was a busy time as the colonists focused their efforts on helping their new neighbors.

On the way home from the Cardassian Quarter, Genji chatted with Isaiah and Todd, another human student. They walked by some of the storage containers stacked by the southern edge of the main colony.

"They don't talk very much," said Isaiah.

"Maybe they are nervous. They don't know what to say," Genji replied.

"They seem guarded. Like they think they're still in danger," said Todd.

Isaiah waved his hands around. "But this colony's far away from everything. What could they be afraid of? Nothing bad ever happens here!" He was looking up when he said that. Some light trails appeared in the evening sky. He thought they were meteors at first. Then he saw their color. The red color was ship to ship phaser fire. The green color was ship to ship disrupter fire. Todd looked up and grabbed Genji's arm and pointed up. She saw the strange lights and knew what was happening. A large red and orange light came from the direction of what the green colored lights were hitting.

WRRREOOOOUUUUU! The alert siren screamed. Then they saw the telltale spinning hazy white lights on top of the large storage container they were standing next to. Transporter signal. As the light solidified, they ran for cover behind a nearby container. Jumping off the container was what they feared the most. Romulans, in their distinct black armor and scary looking disrupter pistols.

"Why now?" whispered Isaiah. "They've been quiet for years."

"They wanna go loud," said Genji. One of the Romulan soldiers started to turn in their direction, and they ducked, hiding in the bushes behind the storage containers. The soldier turned around then moved quickly with his comrades. He fired a shot and destroyed the annoying alert siren. The spreww! of weapons fire and screams of battle entered the ears of the young humans.

A buzzing sound came from Isaiah's pocket. He reached in and took out his communicator. "Mom?" he answered.

"Honey! Where are you?!" she yelled.

"I'm with Genji and Todd! We spotted Romulans!" he reported.

"Get home this instant!" she ordered.

"But mom! I wanna fight!"

"No! Get home and fight from here!"

"Awww, mom!" he hung up the communicator.

"How are we supposed to get to our homes in this mess?" asked Todd.

Genji poked her head up and looked around. "They're not here anymore," she whispered. "Let's move between the containers until we get to the replicators, then run around the back end around the houses." Isaiah and Todd quickly agreed.

They darted between the containers and dove into the native scrub bushes around the replicators. At the rear of the last replicator building, they saw Romulans standing guard by their entrances. But to get past them, they needed a distraction and most of the battle was a ways away.

Genji looked around. The only thing around them were rocks and twigs. They crouched on the ground. Todd picked up a stone.

"What?" whispered Isaiah. "Are you going to stone them to death?"

"No. I've seen this work in war films," Todd explained. He tossed the stone upwards. It made a loud thuck! sound on the right corner of the tall flat roof of the replicator building. The soldiers looked up and walked away from the entrance. The teenagers ran from their hiding spot, their distraction working perfectly. They left the captured replicator buildings behind and towards domed houses that they lived in.

They took a breath as they stopped in an alleyway between houses. Some Romulan bodies lined the street in front of them. Explosions in the distance caught their attention.

"My house… is five more houses to the left," said Isaiah. He took a deep breath as he leaned on his knees.

Todd leaned against the wall. "OK...ok…" he started to move towards the end of the alleyway.

"Stop!" shouted Genji. Todd stopped and peeked around the wall. Romulans started aiming down the street and he ducked into the alley.

"Shoot, you're right," said Todd. "We've got company."

Isaiah walked to the edge of the other end of the alleyway. He saw armed Romulans firing at someone to their right as they ran towards his position. "We've got company on our ass too."

"We gotta make a run for it!" said Genji. She got into a sprinting position. "On three. One, two, three!"

Just as they started running, numerous phaser blasts and disrupter bolts flew past the street.

They immediately turned left and followed the edges of the domed houses. Phaser fire flew past them. Disrupter bolts slammed into the ground beside them or smashed into the walls of houses they ran past. At the end of the street, they saw a squad of colony guards in a house. They waved them by as a guard aimed a photonic bazooka downrange. One of the nearby doors slid open. A familiar hand waved from the cover of the door. It was Isaiah's mother, Nana. Genji and Isaiah dove into the house and the door slid closed.

"Son! I'm glad you're safe!" shouted Nana. She pressed two buttons and the house's shields turned back on.

"Where's Todd?!" Genji asked.

"He didn't make it," Nana replied. Genji turned to look at her and saw a tall woman with curly blond hair and a modelesque face.

"We gotta get him!" said Isaiah as he stood up. The disrupter bolts made a distracting PING! sound when they bounced off the shield. "Lower the shield!"

"No, son!" said a male voice in the other room. Isaiah and Genji turned around and looked down across the room. The house had no hallway but it did have four separated rooms. The voice came from the first room to the kitchen, their lab.

"Mr. Oregon?" asked Genji.

"Come in here, now!" he ordered. They ran inside and saw a tall man standing by a computer console.

The lab had a large sarcophagus shaped bed in the corner, with a few boxes running tubes and cables into it. Genji immediately noticed the five small crystals on the edge of the bed and the words on the boxes like 'matter reintegrator' 'protomatter replicator'.

"I need you to get inside," said Mr. Oregon.

"Dad, why?" asked Isaiah. "Is it even ready?"

"We're out of options. They've blown the Farragut up and chased off the Hathaway. You're our only hope!"

"How is he getting into bed going to save us?!" loudly asked Genji.

Mr. Oregon looked at her. "We've been working on a secret project. The Romulans must've gotten wind of it." He was going to say more when the screams of colony guards echoed in their ears. "He is going to become our weapon!"

"But dad! I don't even know what to do! I barely understand this stuff!"

Mr. Oregon held both of his son's arms. "I know I said I was going to go over this stuff with you! But you're going to have to trust me!" He let go and pressed a bunch of buttons on his tablet and the insides of the sarcophagus began to glow. "Computer, initiate emergency activation!"

"Acknowledged," the house computer replied. He wiped the sweat from his brow. "It's up to you to save us all! You will become the spear of the Federation!"

"Is this even safe?! How can I-"

"Shields at five percent and failing," the house computer said.

Isaiah ran to the sarcophagus. "Hail Mary time, then!" He took off his shirt and climbed inside.

He passed a phaser rifle to Genji. "Help us protect Isaiah. We just need five minutes!"

Genji took the rifle from the tall man. "You got it, Mr. Oregon." She took position next to the door as the Oregon family went to work on their project, the last and best hope for their colony.