Star Trek haz is belong to someone else. I haz iz borrowing it for fun. Rated General Adult whatever, there's nothing in here a kid couldn't read...yet...

INTRO:

Star Trek: Deep Space Infinity is my idea for where ST should have gone after Voyager returned to Earth. 25 years after that, ADMIRAL REGINALD BARCLAY is in charge of Starfleet's Stable Wormhole Department. Deep Space Infinity's HQ is Wolf 359. It looks like three Borg Cubes on a bar-b-que stick. It IS three Borg Cubes on a shaft large enough in diameter for 6 Sovereign Class starships to fly in side-by-side formation through it.

Wormhole A connects to the Andromeda Galaxy. Starfleet has determined that the aliens who tried to take James T. Kirk's Enterprise there are no longer a threat. The Andromeda Galaxy has very few individuals of that race left alive in it, the races once dominated by them are vigorously trying to figure out how to peacefully (or not...) live with each other.

Wormhole P connects to this universe's version of Stargate: SG1's Pegasus Galaxy. The Wraith were mutated by the Eraithis Bug, and wiped out the previously powerful dominant race of that galaxy.

Wormhole I connects to a super-galaxy that eats other galaxies. It is labelled IC1101 in the Abel 2029 galactic cluster, discovered in the late 20th Century. One billion light years from Earth, an elliptical galaxy, it is 6 million light years from end to end, containing 100 TRILLION STARS. The locals call it The Infinite Appetite. The I.A.'s gravity warps light around and into it, so that other macro-stellar objects "nearby" are extraordinarily difficult to see from millions of light years away.

One such object is the Dead Man Hyper-Nebula, 29 million light years from its Forbidden Galaxy eyes to the Bloody Boots. There is a 6 million light years long, half-million light years wide chest wound that has a super-cluster of galaxies beginning to pass through. Some of those galaxies are "bleeding" down one of the Bloody Boot legs. Both Bloody Boots have streams of red dwarf and red giant stars coming out of them.

The I.A. looks roughly like a cosmic kitchen knife. The "Knife's Point Sector" is spinning away and to the I.A. galactic north away from the Dead Man's chest wound, the blade's point stars a bare 250,000 light years from it. The "Knife's Handle Sector" is where DSI is located.

1 million light years galactic north of the I.A.'s galactic core is The Rainbow, a rainbow arc of one million galaxies spanning the width of the I.A. Half a million light years to the 'south' of the Rainbow is The Rapids. The Rapids looks like the Greek God Zeus' own disgruntled, tired, but still dangerous lightning bolt...clusters of neutron stars and black holes and distorted and destroyed galaxies. The locals think it is either proof of the meddling of multiversal ancient races combined under the name The Lords of Order...or a doomsday weapon that worked too well, and still works...

Half a million light years galactic south of the I.A.'s galactic core is The Phalanx Galaxies. 1000 galaxies flying in a roughly pyramidal formation at .5c, heading for the I.A.'s center mass.

Deep Space Infinity is also 3 Borg Cubes on a "God Rod" bar-b-que stick. The center cube is the command cube.

This is the playground I would love to have seen the elves at Paramount play with in the Next Next Generation of Star Trek. They didn't, they aren't, so I am...

GOOOOOOOOOOD MORNING DSI!

0755 Hours, Stardate 79001

Deep Space Infinity was, as usual, busy inside and out, Captain Gruz noted from his cutomary on-duty post just outside DSI Security, directly across the enormous Ops Center "Pit" from Admiral Nog's office. The morning assembly of new and veteran commissioned and non-commissioned officers was almost ready to begin. Admiral Nog was still talking to the station commander, Captain Zoltan Burns, in his office. Burns nodded at something the Admiral said, chuckling, no doubt, at some incomprehensible Terran or Ferengi (or worse...a hybrid) joke.

Captain Burns exited the Admiral's office. Gruz tapped the "Attention To Orders" icon on the control panel under his hand.

"Dooooo...weeeeeee...oooooop!"

The Ops crowd turned to face Burns, riding a skeleton elevator down the wall from the squared-off perimiter walkway above them. "Good morning DSI!" Burns shouted happily. Despite being an un-reconstructed Borged Klingon, Gruz was not a morning person. Burns emphatically was.

"Good morning sir!" Most of the Day Ops crew shared his early morning enthusiasm.

"We have several interesting near neighborhood items to take a look at today. The USS Intrepid-F has been assigned to us as another pure science vessel. One of the Remote Exploration Drones witnessed a supernova 3,200 light years away four hours ago. Intrepid is leaving to investigate it in five minutes. There are over 1,400 stars within 50 light years of the supernova and the level of local subspace radio traffic is up 200%. There are also some odd energy reactions in the area, good reasons for us to send someone there. Intrepid has experience with the Slipstream Drive, as the rest of our fleet does, so no one is playing techno-catch up today.

"In addition, we're sending a cloaked Defiant-X out there to back up Intrepid-"

"Brrrrrr-Ahhhh! Brrrrrr-Ahhhh! Brrrrr-Ahhhh!"

The alarm cut through Burn's comments like an axe.

"Starship decloaking outside the outer hull near Ops," the Ops sensor officer and Gruz snapped simultaneously.

A transporter beam deposited a tall, broad-shouldered, scaley-skinned humanoid near the Admiral's office door. Nog was exited as the alien turned to stare at Gruz.

"Welcome to Deep Space Infinity," Admiral Nog said. The alien turned to him.

"I am Tosk. I request asylum."

Admiral Nog nodded. "Burns, I need to speak with Admiral Barclay. Tosk, come with me."

"All right people!" Burns snapped, "I'll be talking to some of you privately later..."

0815 Hours

Mary Mudd sat in Loxan's Lounge, one mile from DSI's Ops Pit. The Vedic sitting across the table from her nursed a mug of Earl Grey Tea.

"Have you found quarters here yet?" Mary asked.

"Yes", the Bajoran said, "Captain Burns' staff is efficient."

"I can be too", she muttered, "okay Jahar, I'm taking EASY MONEY out to The Rainbow. I wish you good luck in your efforts."

The Bajoran hit her with a sad smile.

"There's an old prophecy I've been thinking about," he said, "'Beware the woman who lives in the rainbow. She owns the pot of gold. You never will.'"

"What does that mean?" Mary Mudd glared at the Vedic.

"I don't know. The Prophets never speak clearly. I'm hoping the Emissary will come to me and explain."

"I'll be happy if I never meet Cisco," Mary said. She tossed down the last of her Romulan ale.

"I'll see you around some day!" She left Loxan's Lounge.

0820 Hours

"We recently learned that some Tosk are, well, defective," Admiral Barclay's mini-me hologram on Nog's desk said.

"Defective?"

"Someone is producing Tosk not 100% happy with being the object of a traditional ceremonial hunt."

"How many have asked to become Federation citizens?" Nog asked.

"Two, before this one," Barclay said, "we call them Tosk One and Tosk Two."

Barclay looked at Tosk Three. "Tosk, I've sent a report to Earth. Federation policy is to give you citizenship even if you don't ask for it. If you weren't defective you would still give some of my people nightmares because they would still feel compelled to disobey orders about respecting the hunt. I'm sure you've heard of Miles Edward O'Brien?"

"Yes, Admiral Barclay," Tosk Three said.

"Admiral Nog will find you quarters at DSI," Barclay continued, "you aren't required to have a job or be part of Starfleet, but you Tosk seem to abhor laziness. Do you have a plan of action for yourself?"

"I am curious about this region of space," Tosk Three said, "I wish to explore it."

"Live well Tosk"

"Live well Admiral Barclay."

The little holo-image vanished.

Nog turned to Gruz, standing behind Tosk Three at the office door. "Please let your staff know about Tosk Three, Captain Gruz"

"It has been done sir," Gruz growled, "the file on Tosk is...interesting reading."

"Yes," Nog said, "I'd rather not have phaser resistant armor-wearing hunting fanatics running around my station."

Gruz nodded, thinking he was getting better at recognizing comments not meant to receive answers, and left. Another Klingon entered.

"Gnarsh," Nog said, "Tosk Three. Tosk Three...Security Officer Gnarsh. He will escort you to your quarters."

Tosk Three nodded and left with Gnarsh. Nog was beginning to understand Gruz' problem with mornings. This one was for the books, an old Hu Mon...Terran saying. He missed poking Jake Cisco with Ferengi aggressiveness, though he never did actually get upset at being called 'Hu-Mon'...

"BAAA-WOOOP! BAAAA-WOOOP! BAAA-WOOOP!"

The Red Alert alarm launched Nog from his office like a Disgruntled Admiral Torpedo. The "this is just a drill" phrase radiating from the holo-emitter on his desk didn't make the noise easier to take. He made a throat-cutting gesture at Gruz as he walked the perimeter. He stared up at the tall Borged Klingon.

"I need a few moments' warning of Red Alert drills Captain. My ears need that warning."

"My apologies Admiral," Gruz said, "I will warn you next time."

Nog headed back to his office. "I need to have my lobes examined," he muttered.

There was something off about the office. Where was his baseball?

THUD!

"Looking for this?"

"Jake!" Nog yelled happily, "how did you get in here?"

"Klingon pranks have more blood and bruises in them, I managed to convince Gruz to let me beam in while you were talking to him about loud Red Alerts," Jake Cisco grinned.

"Never a dull moment around here," Nog sighed, "even when you want one. Want a tour?"

"Yes!"

Nog gestured at the door.