The following story is a sequel to my previous story Star Trek: Orion. Both stories are set shortly after Star Trek: Nemesis. I take my description of Romulus in a post-Nemesis era from the Star Trek: Titan novels Taking Wing and The Red King. This story may contradict other Star Trek novels, as I've only read a few; but I tried to make it consistent will all the television series and movies. Please enjoy

Star Trek: Orion

Intrigue

Starfleet: the great instrument of exploration for the United Federation of Planets. Over the centuries Starfleet has explored strange new worlds, sought out new life and new civilizations, and boldly gone where no man has gone before.

But in its secondary role as the Federation's defense force, Starfleet has seen its share of combat, and even during a few dark days: war. Balancing these two roles, exploration and defense, has always been a challenge for Starfleet.

Most in the Federation believe that the use of violent force is only a valid option as a last resort. But there is a minority within the Federation who think otherwise.

Six years previous

First Officer's log; stardate 52035.6: With the our new Romulan allies, the Alpha Quadrant forces continue to have success against our Dominion enemies, pushing them back into Cardassian space. The USS Woodrow Wilson and the rest of our task force are going to rendezvous with a fleet of Romulan Warbirds before launching a coordinated attack against a Jem'Hadar supply line.

The Romulans have proved to be extremely efficient allies, but I am still leery about working alongside them.

Commander Ser'rek Thrim stood on the bridge, staring at the stars as they flew by the viewscreen. His antennae were moving back and forth in nervous anticipation. It was as though the Andorian officer was in yellow alert, just as his ship.

"Commander, we are ten minutes from the rendezvous point. No sign of the Romulans."

Thrim smiled at the young human male at the operations console. Only a month ago the young man was a third year Academy cadet. But in this time of war many cadets were receiving early graduation and being pressed into service. "Ensign, I don't expect to find any sign of them until they want to reveal themselves. They keep their ships cloaked whenever they are in enemy territory. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they cloaked their ship in their own territory." Thrim regretted his last comment. It was unbecoming of a senior office to make disparaging remarks about any race, especially allies, in front of junior officers.

"Inform the Captain of our status. Maintain yellow alert. The Romulans are not the only ones who should employ caution. And keep scanning for Jem'Hadar or Cardassian ships."

A minute later, Captain Frederick Mayer came on the bridge; his presence being announced by a junior officer. "Captain on the bridge."

"Commander, what's our status?"

"Five minutes to rendezvous, Captain."

"Any sign of the Romulans?"

Thrim merely raised his right eyebrow and both antennae towards his human captain.

"I didn't think so," said the Captain. "Who would have thought it, Ser'rek?"

"Thought what?"

"Starfleet and the Romulans fighting side by side. Just a few years ago it felt like there was a cold war between us that could ignite at any moment."

"The Romulans are merely joining us to fight a common enemy," replied Thrim. "If we win this war, things between us and Romulus will probably go back to the way they were."

"Perhaps, but sometimes these kinds of things can lead to remarkable opportunities."

"Captain, your optimism never ceases to amaze me. In the midst of a war with the Dominion, you are able to see ah…what do you humans call it?...a silver lining?"

"I can't help it, Ser'rek. Why even this ship's name sake was an optimist. President Woodrow Wilson served his nation-state during a time of world war on Earth. After the war, he was instrumental in setting up a League of Nations, which was to serve as a peaceful cooperation on Earth."

"And you think we could have similar success with the Romulans?"

"Oh, I hope not!" Thrim gave his captain a confused look, which prompted the Captain to laugh. "Wilson's League of Nations was a failure. His own nation didn't even officially join it. And in less than thirty years Earth was plunged into a second World War which was worse than the first. A second attempt at uniting Earth was more successful, but it was only after our third and greatest World War that peace was truly accomplished. But Wilson's first attempt was a large step forward, a step towards peace on Earth and even, eventually, to the founding of the Federation. Of course, I don't have to tell you about that history. Andoria was there at the very beginnings of the Federation."

"Yes, it was. Perhaps, sometime, I will tell you of the Andorian history leading up to that great moment."

"Captain," said Lieutenant Melissa Haymore, the human helmswoman. "I am sorry to interrupt this history lesson, but we are about to arrive at the rendezvous."

"Good, Lieutenant. Prepare to drop to impulse."

"Yes, sir," replied the helmswoman in a carefree voice. Thrim watched the young woman as she returned her attention to the helm. Thrim found Andorian women physically more attractive than human women, but he still found Melissa Haymore's almost playful attitude encouraging. She was serious when she needed to be, but she had an endearing ability to lighten the mood when able. Thrim was grateful for the Starfleet regulation that prevented him from fraternizing with subordinates. It just might be saving him from a very awkward situation. Thrim attempted to dismiss his thoughts as the attractive human female worked the helm controls. "Dropping to impulse, Captain."

The stars came to a stop, and the viewscreen displayed empty space. "Any sign of our friends?" asked the Captain.

"Not yet, sir," said the ensign at operations.

"We're a minute early. Let's wait and see if they show up."

Five long minutes passed, and the crew became restless. So Thrim began issuing orders. "Ensign, scan for tachyon readings. If the Romulans are cloaked I want to find some sign of them. Lieutenant, do a long range scan. Maybe they are on route."

"I am picking up some tachyon readings, sir, but they are inconclusive."

"Do you think there are cloaked vessels out there, Ensign?" asked the Captain.

"I don't know, Captain. There may be any number of other expla…"

"I'm picking up ships on long range sensors!" shouted Lt. Haymore, no longer in a playful mood.

"Romulans?" asked Thrim.

But Lt. Haymore turned to him with a look of terror. "Jem'Hadar!"

"Red alert!" shouted the Captain. "All hands to battle stations! Alert the fleet! How many Jem'Hadar ships, Lieutenant?"

"Two, no three, no…" The young woman paused to look at her console. "I count twenty ships, at least. More, I think. This is no scouting party. It's a Dominion war fleet, and they're coming right for us from multiple directions."

"How long?"

"Thirty seconds!"

"Send a distress signal to Starfleet. And send a signal to the Romulans. If they are here, we need their help."

Suddenly the ship lurched. "Jem'Hadar warships are firing on us!" shouted the tactical officer.

"Return fire! Phasers and photon torpedoes!" ordered the Captain. "Evasive maneuvers, pattern delta!"

"Shields down to 40%!" shouted the ensign at operations. "Diverting power from…" The ensign's console blew up in his face.

"Commander, get to operations!"

"Yes, sir," shouted Thrim as he jumped to the upper level of the bridge.

"Signal the Gallant! We need assistance!"

"Sir, we've lost the Gallant!" answered Haymore from the helm. "They're dead in space."

"We must retreat, Captain!" urged Thrim.

"Agreed," said the Captain. "Lieutenant, make it happen."

"Warp drive is offline! We can't go to...Incoming Jem'Hadar fighter! Brace for impact!" shouted Lt. Haymore.

The whole bridge lurched, and Thrim was thrown over the operations console and down to the lower portion of the bridge. When he lifted his head, he saw a smearing of his own blue blood on the floor in front of him. He got to the helm and found Lt. Haymore lying on the floor; her head lay limp; her neck was clearly snapped.

"Captain! Haymore is dead. I'm taking the helm…Captain?"

Captain Mayer slumped motionless in his chair, a piece of the ceiling debris lay next to him, and red human blood covered his head.

"Commander, the Jem'Hadar are pulling back. Looks like they done enough damage," said a young Bolian officer Thrim couldn't recognize at that moment.

"Causalities?"

"Indeterminate. Sick bay was hit. The Emergency Medical Hologram is reporting that all hands in sick bay were lost."

"Ship status?"

"Ahhhh…We have hull breaches on multiple decks. Weapons offline, shields offline, propulsion offline, main power offline. Emergency power is holding, as is life support, but, Commander, we're dead in space."

"Communications? Can we send a distress signal?"

"Subspace communications are down, but short range comm channels should still work." The young officer showed renewed panic. "Sir! The Amerigo is reporting an imminent warp core breach. They are only 200 meters off our port."

Thrim tried working the helm. "The helm is not responding."

"The readings are spiking! Core breach on the Amerigo! She's gone! Brace for shockwave and debris!" shouted the ensign as he dove to the floor.

As the Wilson lurched one more time, the horror of the moment overwhelmed Thrim. The Amerigo was gone, and its entire crew was suddenly dead. The Wilson itself was full of its dead. Indeed, there may be more dead than alive on the ship.

Thrim couldn't help but feel that in those few brief minutes everything had changed. There would be no more polite history conversations with the Captain Mayer. No more wondering about the fittingness of racial discussions in front of subordinate ensigns. And no more mild fantasying about Melissa Haymore. They were all dead. And, in a way, Thrim himself had died. He would never again be the same Andorian.

And where were the Romulans?!

"Open a channel!" shouted Thrim angrily.

"To who?"

"To whoever's out there."

"Channel open on all frequencies."

"This is Commander Ser'rek Thrim of the Federation Starship Woodrow Wilson. We are extensively damaged and need assistance. Our sick bay was hit, and we have causalities. If there are any Federation or Romulan ships able to assist, we are in desperate need." There was no response.

"Romulan Warbirds! I know you are out there. If you couldn't help us fight, at least help us heal." Still nothing. Thrim pounded the helm. "Show yourselves, Romulan cowards! You are leaving us to die, you…backstabbing traitors! You don't care at all about your allies. You would see us all dead. Well, I hope you're happy! But know this…

"If I survive this war, my weapons will be trained on you!"

Chapter 1 - Present day (about one year after Star Trek: Nemesis)

Captain's log; stardate 57257.5: It has been two months since I took command of the Orion-A. We have been patrolling the Federation side of the Romulan Neutral Zone. It has been satisfying boring. There have been no major malfunctions during the Orion's initial shakedown; there have been no dangerous encounters with spacial hazards or anomalies; and, most importantly, there have been no unfriendly encounters with Romulan warships. I will take boring any day.

Unfortunately, today will not be boring. Today, I have another one of my regular meetings with my supervising officer, Captain Jean-Luc Picard. And I must admit, I am quite nervous about it.

"Commander, the Enterprise is read to transport over our visitors," said Lieutenant Selina Chaput.

"Understood, Lieutenant," replied Henry. He stood up from his chair on the bridge and tapped the Starfleet emblem on his chest which doubled as a combadge. "Lieutenant Commander Hickensen to Captain Lander. Our guests are ready to come. Are you ready to receive them?"

Lindsey's voice responded from his combadge. "Almost. Meet me at holodeck one."

Holodeck one? Thought Henry, but he kept the question to himself. He looked over at Selina who merely shrugged her shoulders. "On my way, Captain. Lt. Mikkelson, you have the bridge."

It only took Henry a few moments to get to the holodeck. "Computer, is Capt. Lander still in the holodeck?"

"Affirmative, Captain Lindsey Lander is in holodeck one," replied the Orion's onboard computer.

Henry almost walked in, but stopped and asked another question. "What program is currently running?"

"Lander, vanity 001."

"Vanity?" asked Henry quietly to himself as he walked into the holodeck. Whatever he expected, it wasn't what he found. He was in what looked like an elaborate dressing room, with three large vertical mirrors. But the surprise was seeing two Lindsey's standing with their backs to him. "Captain?"

The two Lindsey's turned in unison to face him, but only one spoke, "Cmdr. Hickensen, come on in."

"You made a hologram of yourself?"

"Yeah," said Lindsey as she made another adjustment to her hair. "So much better than a mirror."

"I suppose so," said Henry as he ruffled his own blond hair. "You ready for your meeting?"

"No," said Lindsey flatly. "But it is here whether I am ready or not. It won't pay to keep Capt. Picard waiting." Lindsey turned and faced Henry. "What do you think; how do I look?"

Henry evaluated Lindsey's new hair style. It was slightly reminiscence of their former captain Theresa Taylor's long black braid. Lindsey had begun styling her long blond hair with a pair of small braids near her temples. The two braids continued behind her ears and with the rest of her hair formed one large braid which went down her neck. This new hairstyle made Lindsey look older and more mature; an improvement over her previous cadet style bun.

"You look like a Starfleet captain." What Henry didn't say was that the new look was downright attractive. Of course, he always found Lindsey attractive. Henry tried hard to push those thoughts out of his mind. It was not appropriate for a first officer to think that way of his captain.

"Good," said Lindsey. "Now, let's not keep the good captain waiting."

"Captain, the Orion reports that it is ready to receive you."

"Excellent, Geordi. Energize." Capt. Picard braced himself for the familiar sensation of a transporter beam out. As it had hundreds of times before, the transporter disassembled Picard's molecules and reassembled him elsewhere. When the process was complete, Picard had another familiar sensation, the transporter room of a Galaxy class starship. For a moment, he allowed his mind to travel back to the Enterprise-D. Picard wondered if the Klingon standing next to him felt the same way.

Picard looked down to the officers before him. One was a human male. He had two gold pips on his collar with a third pip hollowed in the center, indicated his rank of lieutenant commander. The other was a human female with the three solid gold pip rank of a full commander. "Capt. Lander, requesting permission to come aboard."

"Permission granted, Capt. Picard. Welcome on board the Orion," said the female officer. Despite having only the rank of commander, Lindsey Lander was indeed the assigned commanding officer of the USS Orion NCC-26532-A. The old naval tradition made it appropriate to address her as Captain. She had earned this unique position by valiantly taking command of the origin Orion following the death of her previous captain. She managed to safely remove both the ship and its crew from danger, despite being hunted by a rogue Romulan warbird.

But since Lander was still a very young and inexperienced officer, being only a twenty-nine-year-old human, her promotion to the full rank of captain had been delayed. Until Starfleet Command felt she was ready for such a rank, she would be required to report to a senior supervising captain. And, for the moment, that captain was Picard.

"Thank you, Captain," said Picard as he stepped down from the transporter platform. "And it is a pleasure to see you again, Lt. Cmdr. Hickensen."

"The pleasure is mine," said the other office. Lt. Cmdr. Henry Hickensen had also served on board the original Orion when it was attacked by the Romulan Warbird. Currently he was the Orion's first officer.

"And I trust you remember my first officer, Lt. Cmdr. Worf."

"Of course," replied Capt. Lander. "I do not believe you have been on board the Orion before, Commander. If you would like, Mr. Hickensen could give you a tour."

"I would like that," replied the Klingon in his usual matter-of-fact voice.

"Good," said Picard. "While you do that, Capt. Lander and I will carry on with our meeting."

"Right this way, Capt. Picard; although, I assume you still know your way around a Galaxy class starship." Lindsey Lander spoke with a smile on her face, but Picard noted a hint of nervousness to her voice. She was not nervous at their last meeting, but Picard had a guess as to which topic she was least looking forward to.

"If one commands such a ship for nearly nine years it does leave a lasting impression," said Picard as he and Lander walked down the corridors. "I won't lie to you, Captain. The Orion does remind me of my previous command, the Enterprise-D."

"As opposed to the Enterprise-E? It must be strange, commanding a ship with the same name as a previous command," said Capt. Lander.

"I would have thought you of all people would understand. After all you commanded the original Orion, and now you are the captain of the Orion-A."

"I was only the acting captain of the Orion."

"But you did have command of it. You do realize that puts the two of us in an elite camp."

"What you mean?"

"How many Starfleet captains can you name that have commanded two different ships by the same name?"

"Ah…well, besides yourself, Kirk is the only one I can think of. Oh, and your former first officer, Capt. Riker, has been acting captain of both your ships; if you're counting acting captains." answer Lander.

"I suppose you're right. But even so, there are not many others," stated Picard. As he looked over at Capt. Lander, Picard noticed her new hair style. The young woman's blond hair was pulled back and braided in an elegant style. Prior to this Lander had preferred her hair in a bun, as the Academy had recommended. Picard took it as a good sign that Lander was differentiating herself from her early Starfleet days, even in such a little way as hair style. It reminded Picard of when Will Riker grew out his beard.

"Speaking of new ships," Picard continued. "How has the shakedown of the Orion been going?"

"I think it has gone very well. Although my acting chief engineer keeps telling me about all the things the manufactures got wrong."

"Theory doesn't always translate well into reality," said Picard. "When is your new chief engineer arriving?"

"We'll be picking up Lt. O'Hara next week at Starbase 54. I wish I could keep Lt. Kustov, but once the Orion's shakedown is done, I'm afraid that he will request transfer." They arrived at the turbo lift. "Deck 1," requested Capt. Lander.

"Why do you say that?"

"He loved working on the original Orion. She was an old Ambassador class ship. He took great joy in making the old components work with the new. He has implied that working on a brand new ship will eventually bore him."

"I see."

The turbo lift opened on to the bridge, and the two of them stepped out. As soon as they stepped off the lift an ensign announced. "Captains on the bridge."

"Very clever, Ensign," said Capt. Lander. "But I requested that formality to be dispensed."

"I just thought with Capt. Picard present…"

"It's alright, Ensign," said Picard. "All of us captains respect each others' polices when on board another's ship."

"But keep up your vigilance, Ensign. Just in case we ever host an admiral," added Captain Lander.

"Of course, Captain."

"Capt. Picard, please come to my ready room."

"Lead the way, Captain." The two of them came to the Captain Lander's ready room. Lander indicated a seat for Picard, but Picard choose to remain standing until Captain Lander took her seat. If Picard remembered correctly, Ms. Lander's former captain and teacher, the late Admiral Taylor, was a fan of old fashion chivalry. And to Picard's observant eye, Capt. Lander emulated her hero. "Shall we begin right away?"

"Of course, sir. Where would you like to begin?"

Picard decided it was best to start where it was going to hurt the most. "How about personnel, senior staff perhaps?"

Picard could see Lander's adam's apple move up and down as she swallowed nervously. He was right. This was the topic that had her nervous. "Sounds good to me."

"We already chatted about your dilemma over your chief engineer. You solved that one remarkably. I am also impressed how you filled out much of your roster. Creating a crew for a brand new Galaxy class starship is no small achievement. Trust me, I speak from experience."

"You are right, it is not," said Lander frankly. Her sigh told Picard just how difficult she was finding it. "The best source of officers I could find were those who have previously served on the former Orion. That ship had a reputation of turning not so great Academy cadets into fine officers. Many of its alumni and alumnae give greater credit to their years on the Orion than to their years at the Academy. And a few of them were happy to return the favor by serving on the new Orion."

"A clever tactic, on your part."

"Thank you. But that is not to say that I haven't run into to difficulties." Lander's hand moved subconsciously up to her three rank pips on the collar of her uniform and, for a second, rubbed the void where the fourth pip should have been before she caught herself in the nervous tic. Picard was curious. Lander was not the ambitious type, so it seemed unlikely that she was impatient for that fourth captain's pip. "Nor is it to say that I don't still have a difficulty or two."

Picard decided the time for dancing around the topic was done. "Your report says that your acting second officer is Lieutenant Junior Grade Johnathan Mikkelson."

"Johnathan…Lt. Mikkelson is a fine officer, who's abilities and potential are suited for such an assignment. However, Starfleet command does not think he has enough experience for such an assignment or for a higher rank." Lander's hand started back towards her collar, but she stopped herself. "And frankly I agree with them. A few more years of service would do him good."

"So how is your search for another second officer going?"

Lander sighed. "Horribly. Right now, you are the captain of the Enterprise, Starfleet's flagship. You probably have officers begging you for a posting on your ship. But perhaps you can remember when you were a junior captain, and just how hard it is to convince anyone to come onboard your ship. I have discovered that the world of Starfleet captains is a dog-eat-dog world."

"I do remember those days back on the Stargazer. But just to let you know, even the captain of the Enterprise can have difficulties. My first officer, William Riker, received his own command, and he took a few of my officers with him. Mr. Wolf is my acting first officer, and I am trying to persuade him to take the post permanently, but he can be stubborn." Picard leaned forward and spoke directly to Lander. "This is part of your first test as a captain. If you can successfully staff a ship of this size, then you will have impressed me, as well as Starfleet Command."

Lander stared at the blank wall to Picard's right. "I suppose so. But I have an additional handicap that even you didn't have on the Stargazer." Picard's interest was peaked. Lander looked back to Picard and put her hand to her rank insignia, this time on purpose. "I am under-ranked."

"A challenge to be sure, but not an insurmountable one. I think."

"It's not just me who's under-ranked for her role. I have a massive Galaxy class starship, and yet there are more gold pips on a smaller Intrepid class ship that this one. The Orion has always had a young crew complement, but in the past it has always had a senior staff of experienced and veteran officers. Now its senior staff is young and inexperienced.

"Thus, I have been searching for a second officer with years of experience in Starfleet; not only for the sake of the ship's young crew, but also for the benefit of the ship's young captain." Lander pointed to herself. "The chief trouble I've run into is that anyone who meets those qualifications is either already a captain or a full rank commander."

"At which point they would out rank your first officer, Lt. Cmdr. Hickensen," finished Picard, nodding as he finally understood Capt. Lander's problem. "That certainly is a dilemma, and one not easily solved." Picard leaned back again but still held his intent gaze on Capt. Lander. "Has it occurred to you, Captain, that who you're really searching for is not a second officer, but a first officer?"

"And replace Henry as my second-in-command?" Capt. Lander looked back at the wall before bringing her eyes back to Picard. "Yes, it has occurred to me. Mr. Hickensen is a man I deeply trust. I know that he always has my back and that he is both willing and able to question my decisions and make sure that his captain is thinking everything through. I would truly hate to place someone over him.

"However, I have given it extensive thought." Picard sat back and waited for Capt. Lander to explain. "In fact, I considered it when I got a scouting report on your first officer."

"You considered Mr. Worf for the position?" asked Picard with slight surprise on his face.

"Briefly, that was before I found out that he was set on serving on the Enterprise. And it occurred to me that it might not be a good idea for me to poach officers from my supervising captain."

"You said it yourself; it's a dog-eat-dog world," replied Picard was a smirk. "Was Mr. Worf your only possible candidate?"

"No," said Capt. Lander with surprising earnestness. "I came across the perfect candidate for the Orion's first officer. He had all the things on my 'need list' as well as everything on my 'wish list.' He is an over thirty year veteran of Starfleet; he was an instructor at the Academy; he has extensive experience as a tactical and security officer; he served under a diverse group of captains including Sulu, Akaar, and Janeway; and he had just finished an undercover assignment on Romulus, and thus familiar with Romulans…and he's a Vulcan," added Lander in an afterthought.

Picard knew of only one officer by that description. "You wanted Commander Tuvok. He would have been a good choice. Curious, Captain, why does his being a Vulcan matter?"

"It's been a long time since a Vulcan served on the Orion," replied Lander, implying that it was some sort of inside joke.

"Why didn't you try to recruit him?"

"I did!" said Lander with an exasperated sigh. "I lost an entire night's sleep agonizing over the decision between him and Mr. Hickensen. I finally decided in the morning to extend my offer to Commander Tuvok. His reply expressed his appreciation, but also stated that he had already accepted the second officer's position on the Titan."

"Riker got to him first," nodded Picard as he thought about his former first officer.

"Dog-eat-dog. I offered him a first officer's position, but he turned me down for a second officer's position." Capt. Lander had a defeated look on her face. "I had decided to take a break in my search three days ago. Tomorrow I plan on restarting the search with a fresh mind and fresh effort. Any advice you have, I would gladly take."

Picard smiled. Contrary to what Capt. Lander may think, Picard was actually impressed. She was truly in a difficult place, but she was working hard to solve her dilemma. Any officer could have been pulled from anywhere in Starfleet to fill the empty position, but Capt. Lander knew what her specific needs were on the Orion, and she was not afraid to pursue what she wanted.

"I might come up with an idea or two before we finish here, but perhaps we can move on to another topic. How about crew performance?"

Capt. Lander gave a sigh of relief and immediately launched into her reports. The meeting was long, but Picard found it refreshing to be able to assist a young captain, especially as Ms. Lander was frank about her struggles and direct in her problem solving. He knew that this woman had progressed far beyond the adventurous, carefree cadet she had been only six years ago. And that she had all the potential to be a great Starfleet captain.

The windowless and dimly light conference room set the mood for the clandestine meeting. Sitting around the table were a number of men and women wearing military style uniforms. But unlike Starfleet uniforms these bore neither ranks nor color codes. These uniforms were made of solid black leather. The leather doubled in the front and was fastened on each shoulder. Agent Shephard sat comfortably in his chair as the panel was preparing to begin their discussion. A simple tone singled the beginning of the meeting, and everyone fell silent.

One agent stood up and began. "You are all aware of the events that took place above Romulus." The agent began to pace as a large viewscreen displayed information against the backdrop of the Romulan home world. Among the faces were a pair of Romulan women, a Reman military leader, a Klingon General, a Vulcan ambassador, and one Starfleet captain. "Captain Riker, Ambassador Spock, and the Klingon's have created a unique peace arrangement between the Romulans and the Remans. Things are still tense there, but stability might be achieved. The Romulans are more or less united for the time being. A military coup might still happen, but I fear that the Romulan Star Empire may continue to survive."

"What about the war hawks?" asked a senior female agent. "Are they still a viable group? Could they destabilize the Empire?"

"I do not believe so," answered the agent leading the meeting. "Their leader was assassinated by the Tal Shiar. Both Praetor Tal'Aura and the military under Commander Donatra have denounced the rogue faction after one of their colonels attacked a Federation starship. Their political esteem is falling."

Agent Shepherd wondered if now was the best time to propose his idea, but the lead agent continued. "No, our best bet is still the Remans. If they escalate things we could see a civil war."

"How can we bring that about?" asked another agent.

"Perhaps such a war will inevitably occur. Romulans are highly illogical," stated Ta'Prim, a young female Vulcan agent.

"If a war would happen on its own, then we would not be here talking about it," replied the first agent. "Section 31 does not just observe, we act."

"The Klingons will keep their Reman allies in check."

"So, we remove the Klingons from the picture."

"Or we could just assassinate their new friend, Ambassador Spock. It should be easy to make it look like the Tal Shiar."

"Spock is harder to kill than you think. He has avoided the Tal Shiar for well over eleven years. That old Vulcan is slyer than we are."

Agent Shepherd decided this pointless brainstorming had gone on for long enough. It was time for a real plan. "No, a Romulan-Reman civil war is not our solution." All heads turned to him. Desiring to keep everyone's attention he stood up and began to walk around the table. "Now that we know the full might of Donatra's military, I think a Reman victory looks slim. And the Romulan set back would only be temporary. The empire will grow strong again, and when we are all old we will be gathered about this table again, discussing the same thing, but in a less ideal circumstance."

"I assume you have a plan, Agent Shepherd," said the head agent, slightly annoyed that Shepherd was taking over his meeting. Shepherd had completed his trek around the table and now stood beside the man leading the meeting.

"Yes, I do. The Remans can't defeat the Romulans, nor can the Klingons. But the Federation can."

"The Federation will never start a war with Romulus," objected one agent.

"And Starfleet will not fight a war," said another.

"On the contrary," replied Agent Shepherd with satisfaction. He couldn't have scripted their objections better. "Starfleet did fight a war against the Dominion. You are right, the Federation will never start a war, but they will fight one if one comes to them."

"So, we persuade the Romulans to start a war. How? Neither Tal'Aura nor Donatra would actually do so. Only a war hawk would do that, and we've already established that they are insignificant."

"There is still one significate war hawk out there. Computer, display information on Colonel Gaiath." The image of a Romulan military man appeared on screen along with the images of a destroyed Federation outpost and a crippled Federation starship.

"The Romulan who attacked the Orion?" asked the senior female agent.

"Yes, the not so good Colonel has been villainized on Romulus and exiled from his home. So, the disgraced military leader who is hated by his own people has turned to a life of terrorism. He and his small fleet of cloaked ships have escaped deep into Federation space. He is attacking Federation soft targets: a science station here, a supply post there."

"How does a Romulan terrorist in Federation space help us take down the Romulan Star Empire?" asked the lead agent.

Shepherd gladly took his opportunity to explain. "Starfleet Intelligence is just starting to react to Gaiath. Soon he will be a real nuance, and will need to be dealt with. If we are the ones to deal with him, then we will have the chance to tell whatever story we wish, including making these petty terrorist strikes look more like state sponsored attacks."

"And the Federation would have to respond," said the senior female agent with a smile. "It will look like the Romulans provoked the war."

"The problem is that we know the Romulan government has denounced Gaiath," said the lead agent. "Praetor Tal'Aura has labeled him a criminal and enemy of the state, and Commander Donatra has striped his rank."

"You of all people should know that when the truth doesn't fit our needs, we at Section 31…change it." Shepherd held back a smile. The lead agent was annoyed at him for usurping the meeting and was objecting for the sake of objecting. Such petty behavior would tip the board's favor Shepherd's way.

The elder female agent spoke again. "I like this plan. But there is one problem. This is too high profile for Section 31. If we do this, we need to make it look we were never involved."

"Agreed," said Shepherd. "We will cover our tracks with a face; a Starfleet face. Someone known well enough in recent months to get attention, and yet young and naïve enough for us to lead along as we will."

"Who do you have in mind?" asked the woman agent.

"Computer, who was the acting captain of the Orion following the first attack against it, and what is her current assignment?"

"The acting captain was Lieutenant Lindsey Lander. Ms. Lander is currently a commander and the assigned captain of the Orion-A." The image of Lindsey Lander displayed on the screen, and Shepherd let the agents feast their eyes on the young, inexperienced Starfleet captain, and Section 31's new puppet.