15

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or its related properties. All such rights and considerations belong to CBS/Paramount.

This is the eleventh installment in the SID series. It is also a prequel to the forthcoming Star Trek Fan Film "Dusk of the Federation" from SelfMadeMotionPictures.


Three Cardassian Galor-class cruisers pursued the various Maquis raiders. Aboard the Ju'day-class raider, Indomitable II, Aric Tulley swore in several different languages as the Viper's ID marker disappeared from his plot. Tom Reynolds had been a veteran of both the original and new Maquis…and a close personal friend. Tulley's story was one of betrayal.

First he'd been betrayed by his own forces and handed over to the Federation authorities. Then the "democratic" Cardassian government had betrayed him. Next came Brin Macen, after Tulley had reformed the Maquis, and Macen had betrayed him. Then his Omicron allies disappeared and left him facing an entire Cardassian Order. Finally, his original benefactors in the Federation abandoned him.

Tulley had had enough. He ordered his ships to split up and make their way across the Federation border as best they could and to rendezvous at Gilchrest IV. Gilchrest was far enough within Federation borders that it wouldn't be part of the initial search pattern. It was time to take his fight back to those that had launched his crusade.


On Earth, in the city of Paris, France, Sarah Nevil sat behind the desk of the President of the United Federation of Planets and idly perused some legislation the Federation Council had set before her. She didn't know why she bothered reading it. She already knew she'd veto it. She also realised the Council would probably muster enough votes to override her veto.

Nevil had been elected on a platform of curbing the ever expanding bureaucracies of the Federation. Politicians had little real say in the daily affairs of their constituents. That was the realm of the bureaucrat. Nevil herself wanted to take the Federation back to a simpler time. A time when the issues weren't so confused by the plurality.

Her aide chimed her desk comm and asked to enter. Grateful for the distraction, Nevil released the door's locks. One couldn't be too careful when one was the leader of the largest government in the Alpha Quadrant.

Hans Zitter, her Interstellar Security Adviser, strode into the room and handed her a stack of padds, "Here's the latest reports from the Cardassian border. Both the Cardassians and our sensor buoys along the border report that the Real Maquis fled from the DMZ into Federation territory last night."

"Remember Hans, it could have been the middle of the day in whatever system they were fleeing from." Nevil playfully chided him. She respected Zitter's opinion and enjoyed his personal company, a fact that she'd relished last night. They had nearly identical goals for the Federation, which made them more than allies. They were comrades in arms.

Nevil waved her hand through the air, "Anyway, who all got away?"

"Most of the rebels were captured." Zitter reported.

"Too bad." Nevil pouted.

"However, three or four Maquis raiders did affect an escape." Zitter replied, "One ship in particular was transporting the Real Maquis Commander, Aric Tulley."

Nevil wore a sly grin, "And where is he headed?"

"I should think he would approach Pytor. After all, Mr. Boromov was his primary contact with our organisation."

"I don't like it, Pytor has his own agenda. Alert Starfleet Command." Nevil ordered.

"You want to turn Pytor in?" Zitter asked in disbelief.

"Not Pytor, but I want Tulley contained." Nevil explained, "Inform Starfleet to utilise Intelligence agents for this. Perhaps that Special Investigations Division of theirs. Implore them to send their best."

Nevil laughed, "They should muddle things enough to exonerate poor Pytor."

"Another thing…" Zitter began and Nevil laced her fingers and placed her chin upon them in anticipation, "Do you think we could pick up where we left off last night?"

Nevil's eyes twinkled, "Of course. But we mustn't get caught together"

Zitter laughed, mistaking her comment for a jest, "I'll just have to be careful then."

"More than you know." Nevil's eyes turned dark.


The Solstice gently lowered herself onto the Outbound Ventures landing pad situated next to the main offices. After the thrusters ceased firing and the dust settled, Macen and T'Kir drove up in an aircar. The Solstice's primary hatch opened and the gangway extended and lowered itself to the ground. Six undercover Starfleet officers stepped out and descended down the gangplank.

A seventh emerged. He was a familiar and welcome sight. Hal Dracas had been away from the team for some time now and he was coming home at last, even if it were only for a visit. His stay would be extended one in comparison to that of the rest of the delivery team. Macen's Chief Engineer, the Orion woman named Parva, was on Andor for a special consulting job. Dracas was here to fill in for her just as she had once filled in for Dracas.

"Commander," the impossibly young human lieutenant that had commanded the Solstice during her transit said, holding out his hand, "it's an honour to meet you, sir."

Macen could feel T'Kir's smirk from behind him, "Is it?"

"Oh, yes sir!" the lieutenant bubbled over, "You're a legend at the SID!"

"That and you bring us more work than any other agent." a Bolian engineer happily said.

"By the way," the lieutenant leaned in closer to Macen, "is she really a Vulcan?"

Macen looked back over his shoulder and saw T'Kir standing there, gently laughing, "Yes, she is. She also happens to be my wife and she's telepathic. She's probably already read your mind and discovered whatever sordid little fantasy you just played out in your mind."

The lieutenant turned scarlet and T'Kir nearly doubled over, "I think it's best if we go now. We have a transport to catch."

Macen grinned, "I think you'd better. You don't want to miss that runabout. There won't be another one leaving for several days."

The lieutenant marched his crew out of the area and Dracas walked up to Macen, still chuckling, "I see you haven't lost your way with people."

"Comes with experience." Macen replied. He was a four hundred and thirty-six year old El-Aurian. In his time before the Borg assimilation of his homeworld, Macen had travelled across the Delta, Beta, and Alpha Quadrants, at least as far as Sector 001. Upon arrival in the Alpha Quadrant the second time as a refugee, Macen enlisted in Starfleet. This was due partly to honour the sacrifice of the legendary James T. Kirk and partly to prevent the dispersal of a forbidden El-Aurian technology.

Most of all it was because Macen had always been an explorer. Starfleet was the Federation's main tool for exploration so to Starfleet he went. Along the way, he'd been recruited as an analyst for Starfleet Intelligence. When the Border Wars with Cardassia began, Macen was sent to the field and a premier field agent was born.

"Hal," T'Kir walked up and kissed Dracas on the cheek, "we've missed you. How's Kiv?"

Kiv Rever was Dracas' partner. Dracas had spent a long time wrestling with his homosexuality and had only recently "come out of the closet".

"He's good. He sends his regards and wants me to tell you to send me back home quickly."

Macen and T'Kir both laughed and Macen shook his head, "You know that all depends on our next assignment."

Dracas looked up at Macen. Macen stood at 1.84 metres tall; Dracas was only 1.78 metres tall. Dracas had dark brown hair and a deep tan from his time in the sun. His time on Baku had reverted his age to his late thirties. Normally habitually clean shaven, Dracas currently sported a week's worth of beard.

This did not go unnoticed by Macen, who sported a moustache and goatee, "What's with the facial hair?"

"Kiv thinks it looks sexy, so…" Dracas blushed.

"Doesn't Starfleet have a problem with it?" T'Kir asked.

"Not if I grow it out a little longer and call it a neatly trimmed beard." Dracas revealed.

T'Kir looked to Macen for confirmation and he raised his hands, "Don't look at me. I had a full beard when I joined Starfleet. I only trimmed it down when I joined Starfleet Intelligence."

T'Kir looked dubious and Macen shrugged, "I can show you pictures."


Macen and T'Kir themselves presented a study in contrasts. T'Kir stood at 1.68 metres and had shoulder length raven hair and an olive complexion. She had large sapphire blue eyes and a full mouth and "bee stung" lips. Her cheekbones were high and her nose was slightly upturned at the end. Her figure, though slender, was voluptuous.

Macen had short, reddish-gold hair with a spiky part. His complexion was fair and his eyes were blue-green and shifted shades with whatever he wore. He was slender but had the advantage of daily workouts with a former Angosian super-soldier and his musculature reflected it.

Whereas Dracas wore a nondescript khaki jumpsuit, Macen and T'Kir habitually wore the same outfits. They had dozens of the same clothes replicated and sitting in their drawers and hanging in their closets. Macen favoured grey crew neck tee shirts and black cargo pants, with black leather boots. As the weather or situation required it, Macen also added a black leather flight jacket to the mix.

T'Kir generally stuck with an emerald green Henley, black leather pants and black leather boots. She frequently added a black leather duster to the ensemble. Both were never without their holster/utility belts. Macen's was rigged for his right hand, T'Kir's for her left. Over a decade's worth of experience had taught them the price of going into a situation unarmed.


"So, are ready to come to the office and greet all the folks?" Macen asked.

"Yah," T'Kir quipped, "the whole team turned out for you."

"Let's get the meet and greet over with then." Dracas pretended to complain.


The Council of Five was gathered together in their secure bunker. Every member was present except one. Bill Ross was attending via ultrasecure holographic interface. The present cast of characters included the two newest members of the Council. Robert Tavar Johnson and Edward Noyce had become members after the departures of Edward Jellico and Jaroess Marrine. Noyce had bumped Marrine out of his seat in order to take a more direct role in the Council's affairs.

Johnson had come to the Council after the C-in-C had decided it was time to have a more diplomatic presence aboard the ultra top secret security committee. The Council only answered to the C-in-C, select members of the Federation Council and the UFP President's Interstellar Security Advisor. Not even the President was privy to its discussions and resolutions.

Johnson was Starfleet's envoy to the Federation Diplomatic Service. The Admiral had made a career of knowing the shifting tide of interstellar politics and being able to reach the best agreement possible out of them. Noyce was the Director of Starfleet Security and a friend of Johnson's since the latter's days as a starship captain.

Noyce's former hard line tendencies had greatly mellowed through his association with the idealistic and altruistic Johnson. Johnson, however, was the ultimate pragmatist when it came to interstellar affairs. He was a man committed to his principles and demanded a realistic approach to seeing them actualised. Both men generally represented a faction on the Council pitted against the tendency for "ends justifying the means" thinking from Alynna Nechayev and Amanda Drake.

The Directors of Starfleet Intelligence and the Special Investigations Division dealt with a grittier aspect of the Federation and the worlds beyond than either Johnson or Noyce. In their opinion, they should be given carte blanche authority to operate as they please. As long as the Prime Directive remained inviolate, the mentor and protégé had no difficulties with how the results were achieved.

It often meant that Bill Ross, Commander of the Bajoran Theatre, had to cast the deciding vote. Such events were fraught with peril since Nechayev was famous for nursing grudges and playing politics. The tensions on the Council, normally high, were higher than normal recently because of events revolving around the SID's star agent.

Courts-martialled and busted in rank, Macen had slipped into the Starfleet Reserves and contracted with the SID as a privateer. Manoeuvred by Edward Jellico, Macen and the other privateers had been forced out of the SID. Three years later, with Johnson and Noyce's admission to the Council, Macen was readmitted to the SID's reinstated privateer program. In the last month, Macen had been reined in through reactivation of his commission at Johnson and Noyce's insistence.

Other tensions derived from the increasing friction between member worlds of the Federation. This was a particular concern of Johnson's and he was scheduled to brief the assembly on recent matters. First to speak was Drake concerning her recent orders forwarded from the President's office.

"We all know the remnants of the revived Maquis crossed the Federation border at 01:38 local time." Drake began, "My department has received word through the office of the Interstellar Security Advisor himself that the ultimate destination of the Real Maquis still at large, and this includes the Real Maquis Commander, Aric Tulley, is Risa."

"Risa?" Noyce questioned, "Why go to Risa? Are they desperate for a vacation?"

"It does seem an unlikely hideout for wanted fugitives on the run." Johnson concurred.

"The ISA's brief included information implicating a casino operator on Risa of dealing in more than poker." Drake's comment was aimed to appeal to Johnson and Noyce's well known affection for the game, "He's suspected of dealing in arms, munitions, and intelligence reports. A veritable one stop shopping centre for warfare or illicit means."

"That's ridiculous. Risans are only concerned with pleasure." Noyce scoffed, "They'd have no interest in weapons. They're amongst the most peaceful races in the galaxy."

"This particular businessman is human." Drake reported, "He purchased the casino and the island is resides upon from the previous owner when he retired."

"Did the ISA mention where he'd derived this intelligence from?" Noyce asked.

"He stated that it came from Federation Security sources, not Starfleet assets." Nechayev answered, "I can vouch for the latter part of that assertion."

"So what does the ISA expect you do to with this data?" Johnson wondered.

"I've received orders to launch an immediate investigation into this Pytor Boromov and subsequently apprehend the Maquis sheltering with him." Drake answered, "The orders came with a Presidential seal and were countersigned by the C-in-C."

"So it seems our participation is moot." Ross spoke at last.

"Who are you sending, or should I just ask when you're dispatching Commander Macen?" Johnson asked dryly.

"Well," Drake grinned, "my orders did specifically state that I should send my best agents."

"Your pet mavericks you mean." Noyce retorted.

"Come now, Edward," Nechayev chided, "I seem to recall a few maverick stunts Robert here has pulled yet he has your full endorsement, not to mention the fact that he has a seat on this Council."

"Point taken, Alynna." Noyce conceded.

"If your report is finished Amanda," Johnson said, "I'd like to proceed with my own briefing. It seems the policies of the current President are once again creating strife amongst the alien members of the Federation. They're beginning to feel as though they're second-class citizens. Only the Diplomatic Corps and Starfleet's visible presence and support are smoothing things over for now."

"Are saying that member worlds are considering seceding from the Federation?" Ross asked.

"Not formally, but dissident factions of the various governments are putting that idea on the table even as we speak. How seriously its being taken depends upon the world it's presented on." Johnson explained.

"Is there anything we can do?" Noyce asked.

"It would require major policy reversals to quell the growing dissatisfaction." Johnson answered, "We at Starfleet aren't responsible for creating domestic policy, only for enforcing it. And it's been my long held belief that Starfleet is too heavily relied upon in this role. We should be an organ of exploration first and foremost. Our military and civil enforcement duties should be secondary concerns."

"That may have been feasible before the Dominion War," Nechayev replied, "but now the citizenry is relying upon Starfleet to make them feel secure."

"That's what the planetary militias and Defence Forces are for." Johnson argued, "Bajor is maintaining its Militia at full strength."

"And it, as so many Planetary Defence forces go, is woefully outgunned by even the Orion Syndicate." Nechayev protested, "Bill, tell him if I'm wrong."

Sadly, Ross shook his head, "She's telling the truth, Robert. Starfleet has provided the bulk of the Federation's military forces for nearly two hundred years now, ever since the Romulan War. The member worlds provide token forces to make the citizens feel better but the real capital and personnel are invested in Starfleet."

"That's what needs to change. If the individual member worlds provided for more of the defence then they wouldn't be at the mercy of some dilettante President who's decided to rework two hundred years of peaceful cooperation." Johnson said heatedly.

"What do you propose we do?" Nechayev asked tiredly, "You've already stated that it's not up to us to set domestic policy, so where does that leave us?"

"We could prepare for the worst." Johnson said grimly, "If member worlds do start to secede, we need to be prepared for that contingency. You and Amanda could cast a wider net and start listening in on the pulse of the people and see how they're being affected. And for God's sake, find out what's going on in the President's office?"

"You want to spy on the President?" Nechayev asked coldly.

"No." Johnson replied, "But I'm betting some of Amanda's people could ask a few well placed questions."

"We probably could without raising too much suspicion." Drake allowed.

"That's all I'm asking for." Johnson subsided, "Now for whoever has the next piece on the agenda…"

"Well, I have more to add onto this Real Maquis issue since it took place in my command zone." Ross spoke up, "The Cardassians are doing a suburb job of handling and treating their prisoners. I would say that they're living up to the Deneva Accords and that…"


Macen was enjoying the reunion party when his comm badge chirped. He tapped it on its location on his belt, "Macen here."

"Brin, it's Christine," Christine Pike was Outbound Venture's liaison with Starfleet, "you have a message you may want to step into your office to receive."

"Thanks Chris." Macen said before the circuit closed.

"Ohhh, I'm coming too." an irritated T'Kir said and stalked off in Macen's wake. When they arrived, Macen's comm screen flashed the message, "Incoming Transmission". Macen activated the comm and sat back in his chair while T'Kir curled up on the sofa.

Amanda Drake's features fill the screen, "Brin, I have a mission for you."

"Why isn't it ever, 'Brin, I'm just calling to see how you're doing?' or 'Hope you're having a nice day'? It's always 'Brin, I have a mission for you'?"

"Are you having a nice day?"

"I was."

"Sorry about this but we have an emergency?" Drake informed him.

"When don't 'we'?" Macen asked.

"Aric Tulley is loose and we think he's on Risa." Drake said.

"What? Working on his tan?" Macen scoffed.

"This is serious Macen." Drake grew cold, "I'll upload all our files to you. You're on your way to Risa in twelve hours or less. You'll rendezvous with a Federation starship in the Gorias system and pick up a passenger."

"A passenger?" Macen was dubious.

"This is a direct order from the Council of Five."

"Understood." Macen replied, once more the consummate professional.

"So we ring up Shannon, get beamed back aboard the Obsidian, and the crew takes a vacation on Risa?" T'Kir asked.

"We're not taking the crew." Macen explained, "We're taking the Solstice. The Investigative team, minus Tom, will go to Risa and figure this mess out. Hopefully it'll just be a lot of rollicking in the surf."

"I can rollick with the best of `em!" T'Kir said enthusiastically.

"Let's go tell Tom the bad news." Macen rose and T'Kir uncurled from the couch like a cat, and departed the office. Macen led the way back to the hangar space where the party was underway.

"Where are we off to this time?" Radil Jenrya asked.

"Risa." Macen answered the Bajoran mercenary turned Security Specialist.

There were some cheers over that but Macen quelled them, "We will be working. Tom, you'll stay with the Obsidian and deploy her on our planned convoy escort mission. Lisea will act as your XO."

Danan frowned and Riker set to work, "Why Lees, why not Shannon Forger?"

"Shannon doesn't want the role. We learned that the hard way once already." Macen rebutted, "Tom, I need you to do this. I want the opposition thinking we're a half a million light years away while we're really in the backyard."

Riker grinned, "You can count on us." Danan nodded her support.

"I guess all that's left is grabbing your gear and stowing it aboard the Solstice. We lift off in six hours people. Whatever you haven't packed in that time gets left behind."

"All right, people!" yelled the burly Angosian, Rab Daggit, "Let's move!"

Riker looked back at Macen, "How dangerous is this one?"

Macen shrugged, "It's the SID. I'm assuming its life or death even if it is on paradise."

"Safe bet." Riker chuckled wryly.

"Take care of the ship and crew Tom."

"You know I will. They're my crew too." Macen's XO said and led Danan out of the hangar.

Macen could see why Tom Riker's doppelganger of a "brother" had already carved out a legend for himself amongst Starfleet personnel.

"Ready to pack?" T'Kir asked, wearing a coy smile.

"Why do I get the feeling we're not going to do much packing?"

"Because we're going to Risa and this is your lucky day."

"And last night?"

"You were still breathing. I had to reward you." she said as her smile blossomed. It was a testimony to the hazardous lifestyle they'd chosen for themselves. They exited the hangar hand in hand and headed for their flat in Barrinor's capital city.