Do not boast about tomorrow,
for you do not know what
the day may bring..."
PROVERBS 27
"Cry Havoc, and let slip
the dogs of war... "
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
PROLOGUE.
ROMULAN NEUTRAL ZONEThe freighter, Poynter's Hope, sailed through the newly demilitarised sector surrounding the Romulan neutral zone, it's battered hull glistening in the reflection of the local sun. The ship's captain, Quincy Newton was constantly pacing the deck, a nervous man to say the least. Hanging around the neutral zone, trying to evade not only the Romulan border patrols but also their Federation counterparts was proving to be extremely taxing on his nerves. I need to charge more latinum for this sort of thing, he thought to himself. His helmsman, Vargg was still grunting his blatant disapproval at the course heading that Newton had selected, but he didn't care. He knew where he had to go, and it wasn't Vargg's place or position to second-guess his captain. Newton sat on the edge of his chair, trying in vain to remain passive and calm in front of his crew as he re-checked his navigational computations. The smuggler who ran the sensors, what they were on the ship, slammed his fist on the screen as it flickered and blinked at him. Finally the screen came true and what he saw before him, caught his breath. He spun in his chair that hard, that he nearly fell clean off it.
"Captain, Romulan border patrol, bearing two seven six, mark five zero. They're practically on top of us."
"Damn it.", screamed Vargg in his native tongue.
"Calm down, all of you." hissed Newton in reply. "They're our contact."
"Our contact! What are you smuggling Newton?" demanded Tilly, the freighter's cargo handler and weapons operator.
"None of your business, Tilly." he replied evenly. "Open a hailing frequency, Vargg."
The Betazoid's fingers danced over the antiquated, manual throw switches, activating the ship to ship frequency. Although the surface switches were ancient, the software beneath the console was state of the art, when it was stolen anyway.
"Romulan vessel Storm Pride, this is the freighter Poynter's Hope, on secured channel."
The channel crackled and spat, putting Newton on edge.
"Warm the phasers up, Tilly."
"They're coming on line now." he replied, the bridge lights dimming slightly as the phaser generators kicked in. The view screen changed from the close up view of the Romulan ship to the impassive face of a Romulan naval officer.
"Newton, this is Commander Saran, of the Storm Pride. Are you ready to transfer your cargo?"
"Yes Commander. I will transfer on confirmation that the monetary funds have been deposited. Stand by."
Vargg closed the channels and looked at Newton anxiously.
"What's wrong Vargg? You look nervous," quipped Newton.
"What do you expect? It's not smart to sit this close to a Romulan warship in a dilapidated heap like this."
"Don't worry. Check our account and if the latinum has been deposited, we'll get out of here."
Vargg nodded his reply as he started to access their corporate account. While the Poynter's Hope crew wasn't the richest smugglers in the sector, they weren't strapped for cash either. They had been working the shipping lanes hard for several years and the rewards for their hard work were starting to pay dividends. Weapon and sensor updates had put a heavy drain on their finances, but the contract they were about to complete had promised to make life a little bit easier for them, after they changed the registry of the ship again. As the computer started to work through various layers of encryption on their accounts, Vargg couldn't help but stare at the monotone hull of the Romulan warship dominating the view screen. The ship's battle scarred durasteel skin suggested that the Storm Pride and her keepers were not a threat to be taken lightly. Finally the computer broke Vargg out of his thoughts, producing an answer to his request and Vargg nodded to Newton, signalling the transaction had been completed.
"Good. Activate the channel."
Switches were flipped as Newton sat upright in his chair.
"The deposits has been confirmed, Storm Pride. We are ready for transfer."
The computer started to input the numbers from the Storm Pride and the warship's shields were lowering. From behind the Storm Pride, a second ship de-cloaked, weapons powered up bearing down on the two that were stationary. The ship was of a design that Newton hadn't seen before, its hull was sleek, appearing almost paper-thin with its wide, sweptback wings tapering to a rounded edge. The engines were conventionally mounted at the rear, but the front of the ship and the wings were bristling with what the sensors identified as weapon pods. Its overall wingspan made the ship appear twice the size of its Romulan adversary.
"Bloody hell! Vargg, get us out of here!" screamed Newton, barely keeping his emotion in check. His navigator needed no second bidding as he wheeled the freighter veered sharply to the right, the internal gravity dampeners struggling to keep up with the radical manoeuvre. Tilly reached over his console; bringing up the shields while trying to fight the upheaval in his stomach. The alien vessel seemed to leave them alone as it opened fire with a nightmarish salvo at the unprotected Storm Pride. The Romulan ship didn't have a chance to defend itself, exploding into a fiery ball of debris, oxygen and munitions.
"They're coming for us, Quince." exclaimed Vargg, double checking the shield intensity.
"Break hard to port, stand by on phasers." ordered Newton, as the first phaser shots rocked the small freighter.
"We can't, steering thrusters were just blown off the hull." shouted Vargg, above the noise of more exploding panels.
"Weapons won't penetrate their shields." reported Tilly, matter of factually.
"You don't say." snarled Newton, frustrated that the deal had gone sour. The ship shuttered again, more panels exploding from the volley of laser fire erupting from the alien vessel.
"They have a tractor lock on us." advised Tilly again.
"And are trying to contact us." added Vargg.
"Oh great. Open the channel." rumbled Newton, wiping the sweat off his brow. On the screen appeared a thin pale skinned humanoid, with burning red eyes.
"The package! You have it, we want it." demanded the man, his voice resonating through the speakers.
"What package?" lied Newton staring into the alien eyes of his adversary.
"Don't play with me. We know you have it, we want it now." he hissed. Newton looked at Tilly nervously.
"Damn it. Lower the shields, Tilly."
"They'll shoot." he exclaimed.
"They'll shoot anyway. At least if we don't tick them off, we might survive this in one piece. We've been paid for it, I don't give a damn who picks it up.", reasoned the freighter captain. For once, Tilly completed the order without objection.
"Shields are down." announced Newton to the alien officer, his hands open in defeat. The faint hum of a transporter beam could be heard as the Poynter's Hope was relieved of its contraband.
"Thank you for your assistance, Poynter's Hope." cracked the alien. "The Doramian Collective is most grateful."
Newton smiled half heartedly, not quite sure on how to interpret the last comment. As the transmission was terminated, the screen reverted to its tactical display, showing the alien ship starting to move off. As the craft started to bank to port, a glow started to emit from its weapons pod and a deadly line of pure energy lancing across the hull of Poynter's Hope. The Doramian commander never heard the screams of its crew. Not that he really cared. The ship continued on its vector away from the explosion, and headed towards Federation space.
PART 1 – INVASION.
SAN-FRANCISCOCaptain David McCann stepped out onto the terrace of his San-Francisco apartment, inhaling the fresh sea air that blew in from the Pacific Ocean after the previous night's storm. It was hard to believe that two centuries ago, the entire western seaboard of the United States was covered in a perpetual haze and pollution induced smog.
It feels good to be alive, he surmised.
No, came the earnest reply,
It feels good to be able to afford this place.
Chuckling to himself, he walked back into the sunken lounge area of his apartment and admired the holo-photos that where attached to the wall. The photos were a visual history of McCann's life, both in his military service with Starfleet Command and his personal life, which quite often were intertwined. Pictures of his parents when they were still alive. The food replicater emitted a soft beep advising him that his hot beverage was ready, the exotic smell of warm chocolate catching his senses. He stumbled over to the processor, adjusting his robe on the way to the servery. As he sat down at the table, he activated the main holo-viewer, which was broadcasting a breakfast style news program. The serious and conservatively dressed anchorman was monotoning his way through the broadcast. The news of the hour seemed to be the loss of contact with several outpost worlds near the Rimworld sector; an area of space which bordered the newly demilitarised area near the Romulan neutral zone. The newscaster stated that loss of contact was the result of a technical glitch and that Starfleet personnel were addressing the problem.
Yeah right.
McCann scoffed at the anchorman as he drained his drink and rose to dispose of his cup. Technical glitch was another way of saying 'something has gone wrong and Starfleet aren't telling us what...'; especially out in that sector. The frown that was etched on his face from the news report subsided when his girlfriend, Nicola Leigh walked sleepily from the bedroom. Every time that McCann saw her, his breath was always taken away. Her body was well toned and lean; her full, firm breasts moved sexily under her satin teddy camisole; her form capable of hypnotising the most casual observer. The fact that she held a doctorate in astrophysics and a Starfleet commander seemed to cap of a great package. Leigh wandered across the foyer, her silk robe lazily draped around her shoulders.
"Good morning, sweetness", yawned the auburn hair beauty.
"Sleep well?" asked McCann, craning his neck to give her a slight, but sensual kiss on the lips.
"Not too bad at all. I don't usually sleep that well first night off the ship." She walked over to the replicater and leaned against it, ordering her breakfast drink.
"Mocha Kenya coffee. Seventy degrees; two dashes of whole milk."
The replicater emitted its soft beep again as Leigh grabbed her coffee and sat down next to McCann. She glanced at the viewer and nodded,
"What's that all about?"
"Don't know, I've only just turned it on. They reckon that they've lost contact with several outpost worlds near the Rimworld sector. Some sort of communication glitch."
"Yeah right", she scoffed, sipping on her beverage. Leigh was equipped with similar anti-bull capabilities as her partner.
"They have some pretty sophisticated equipment out there."
McCann rose from his chair and headed for the door to the bedroom. The door whooshed open as he approached then he reached for a button on the wall which held the door open.
"I didn't say I believed it, Nic. That's what they're saying. Besides, we have our problems on the Nemesis remember?"
Leigh nodded grimly. The vessel on which they both served was the USS Nemesis. The Nemesis was a Nevada class fighter carrier, attached to the 1st Pursuit squadron based at Jupiter. Leigh was its helmsman, McCann was its commanding officer. The ship has just returned from deployment at the Romulan neutral zone for the past six months. Normally border patrol work wasn't excessively stressful but for four months, the ship performed its mission whilst cloaked. The cloaking device was a type of shielding that made the ship invisible to sight and sensor. In company with its screen vessels, USS Conqueror and USS Vindicator, the squadron conducted the operation with distinction; but during the return trip to Jupiter, lost six fighters after a skirmish with a Borg vessel who were attacking an outpost settlement. Luckily the Romulans hadn't noticed the exchange and seized the opportunity to join in the fray. Luckily. Luck had nothing to do with it. Diplomatic relations with the Romulans were strained at the best of times but the rumours received from a friend of McCann's, who was the commanding officer of the USS Idaho, a Akira class missile frigate were disturbing. No one had had any contact; official or otherwise with any Romulan border vessels for over three months since the signing of the treaties concerning the newly demilitarised area surrounding the planet of Diginic. The Idaho's main mission was to stop and search the illegal traders and pirates who ran the neutral zones. When questioned, the same response was forthcoming.
We haven't seen the Romulans for ages.
The squadron's intelligence officer, Captain Reece Quinn had been investigating the issue for several weeks and was due to report his findings that morning. As McCann finished his sonic shower, Leigh was brushing her hair into a braid and applied a small amount of cosmetics. McCann dressed into a new Starfleet uniform, attaching his rank and insignia onto the collar. The couple had changed themselves from lovers into two of Starfleet's finest line officers. McCann looked at his beautiful partner in the reflection of the mirror and stated admiringly,
"You're looking mighty fine, Commander."
"Why Captain, are you flirting with me?" she replied in a fake Texan drawl. McCann walked up to her, tapped her lovingly on her buttocks and smiled,
"Yes I am." as he kissed her on the lips. He took her hand as they left the apartment and entered a hover-cab to the Starfleet Command headquarters.
The hover-cab whisked McCann and Leigh through the streets of downtown San Francisco at a reasonably rapid pace. The winds that the couple had experienced at their apartment had died down considerably in the twenty minutes since they had been in the cab and the drab morning had seemingly turned into the perfect winter's day. They arrived at Starfleet Headquarters, which stood tall against the silhouette of the Old Golden Gate Traffic Bridge. The cab driver stopped and after McCann paid him for his fare, released the door mechanisms so his passengers could enlighten from the vehicle. The driver grunted his thanks and then sped off. They both straightened their uniforms so they looked crisp and neat then proceeded to the entrance. The antique glass revolving doors looked old and frail but were designed to resist heavy phaser and terrorist attack. As they entered the main foyer, they approached the security desk where an over efficient lieutenant saluted them. Starfleet Marines were posted at various areas of the foyer, armed with phasers.
"Good morning sirs, what can I do for you today?"
McCann, who seemed to get a perverse sense of pleasure out of torturing young lieutenants looked at him down the length of his nose and addressed him.
"Lieutenant, My name is Captain McCann, this is Commander Leigh of the USS Nemesis. We are here to see Rear Admiral Tarikaza from Fleet Intelligence." he announced regally.
"Immediately, sir. I shall have the Admiral's aide de camp attend straight away." replied the officer not missing a beat. The lieutenant busied himself on an internal computer screen while McCann stared straight at him. Leigh shook her head slightly, reminding herself that this was the way that the two of them had met over five years ago. She has just transferred to the USS Sydney, a Galaxy class heavy cruiser on which McCann was the executive officer. She was assigned to the ship as a reserve navigation officer after her promotion to lieutenant and as executive officer; McCann was responsible for the assignments that were allocated to the crew. He picked up on her first day nerves and decided to test her mettle. She gave as good as she got and he was soon to discover that she was an extremely proficient officer. From that day on, McCann couldn't get her out of his mind. They became good friends on the Sydney, and when they were transferred to the Nemesis they took shore leave together in Hawaii and fell in love.
"Sirs, Lieutenant Flynn will be down immediately." announced the security officer.
"Thank you, Lieutenant." replied Leigh while McCann studied the various pennants and flags from the member worlds of the Federation that were hanging from the walls of the large foyer. She left the desk and approached McCann.
"You are so nasty, Dave. Why do you do that?" she asked.
"You have to keep these young pups on their toes, Nicky" he replied cheekily. Lieutenant Flynn arrived out of the turbo lifts on the opposite side of the foyer. Lane Flynn was a tall man, standing at two hundred centimetres, his baldhead and intense eyes portrayed an intimidating form, the consummate professional. As Flynn traversed the foyer, he always noted with pride the amount of planetary flags and alliance banners that lined the great hall. As his boots clapped the polished marble floors, he sized up the officers he was about to greet. Although he had never met the two officers before, their names preceded them. McCann stood at one hundred and eighty five centimetres, stocky, muscular build, his blonde short hairstyle providing a contrast to his burgundy fleet uniform. The female officer next to him was a sight to behold, her lithe body looking great in the command color. Well, thought Flynn, he certainly can pick them, beautiful and tough. The stories about the two in the Gorn sector when they served on the Sydney were bordering on the fantastic. Three Gorn cutters outside the treaty area near Rigel Six ambushed the Sydney. Not only did the Sydney defeat the raiders but they managed to capture the entire crew from the third Gorn vessel. Between the command skills of McCann and the piloting skills of Leigh, the combination was deadly in a confrontation. A vast amount of intelligence came from that battle but the cost of life was large. The captain of the Sydney was killed when the bridge collapsed after sustaining disrupter fire during the battle. McCann, Leigh and several others from the Sydney received Federation Stars for their heroic efforts during the battle. The Federation Star was one of the highest military accolades that could be bestowed onto its members, but the award left McCann disillusioned. He could never understand why they were being rewarded for the blatant loss of life that had been inflicted during the battle. The Sydney was scrapped on its return to the Terran spacedock, the damage to the ship was beyond repair. McCann and most of the Sydney's crew were transferred from fleet exploration to form a new arm of fleet operations called Tactical Covert Operations Command. This new section was formed to counter the new, violent wave that began to threaten the Federation mainly from the Borg and Thiolans. They were assigned the newly completed ship, USS Nemesis, and McCann had been her captain since her maiden cruise two years ago. As Flynn approached McCann, he brought himself to attention and extended his hand into a formal salute.
"Captain McCann, Commander Leigh; my name is Lieutenant Flynn, aide de camp to Admiral Tarikaza. Please follow me."
McCann and Leigh returned the salute and followed Flynn into the turbo lifts as Flynn spoke into the computer speaker.
"Intelligence. Security override Flynn, omega one seven zulu."
The computer recognized his voice command and beeped a response before replying.
"Override authorised."
The lift ride was quiet as the lift ejected the three officers onto the twenty-seventh floor of the building. The entrance landing was very Spartan, its only contents a small reception counter. Behind the desk was displayed a silk Federation flag and a silk Starfleet ensign. Past the flags were plexi-glass paneling which showed the operations floor and on the other side of that, the Intelligence section. A security officer stopped the party and Flynn spoke to her.
"Chief, this is Captain McCann and Commander Leigh of the USS Nemesis. They are here for the briefing with Admiral Tarikaza."
"Yes sir," the enlisted officer replied. She then turned to McCann and Leigh,
"Sirs, please wear these special tags on your collar, saves you from an ugly confrontation with the Marines." she smiled. McCann and Leigh attached the studs to their collars and followed Flynn through the door. The operations area was deceptively large, considering the space they had been allocated. On the furthest wall was a large incident screen, which displayed any section of space, planet or star system in the known galaxy at the touch of a button. At the moment, it showed several Starfleet vessels, their Co-ordinates and their current operational status. The centre seemed quiet for the time of day, communications specialists quietly conversing with each other or running systems checks on their computers. They walked through the operations area on an overhead mezzanine catwalk though to the Intelligence room. Two armed marines flanked the doorway but seemed to relax slightly as they saw Flynn approach. One of the guards pushed a button of his sleeve that opened the blast door behind him. Flynn tossed the guard a lazy salute, which the guard returned with an ever so slight nod. As they entered the foyer to the Intelligence area, a large motion picture poster stood before them, surrounded by an antique red wood frame and single overhead halogen light. The picture was of a man wearing a trench coat with a fedora hat pulled down low; his body silhouetted by road side street lamp he was leaning against. Below it, there was a sign which said 'Spooks… can't live with them, can't live without them!' McCann looked at Leigh and smiled.
"Why doesn't that surprise me?"
"The Admiral is a fan of the old fashioned spy movies." said Flynn, half explaining, half apologising, trying not to laugh at the reaction of McCann and Leigh. They continued down a corridor that was bordered by glass-enclosed offices. Various officers and civilian analysts were hunched over computer consoles and displays, similar to the ones in the Operations floor but smaller in size. As they approached Tarikaza's office, a civilian receptionist looked up and smiled at Flynn.
"He's expecting you all." she announced and waved them through at the same time.
"Thank you, Bree." replied Flynn as the door automatically opened. As McCann entered the room, he immediately recognised not only Rear Admiral Tarikaza, but also the Starfleet commander, Fleet Admiral Davis Winchester. The tall, black man was standing in the corner of the office, puffing on one of his trademark cigars. In his day, he had been one of Starfleet's finest starship commanders during a career spanning over forty years, after joining Starfleet as a cadet when he was sixteen years old. The fact that he was here was cause for concern, let alone the presence of the other two flag officers. The third flag officer was the officer in charge of the 1st Pursuit squadron and McCann's boss, Admiral Mandrey Cleave. Sitting next to Cleave was General Perry Reeve, commander in chief of Starfleet Marine Forces and Captain Quinn, the squadron's intelligence officer.
No, this isn't good at all, growled McCann's inner voice.
The three stood at attention in regimented cadence and issued a crisp salute. Flynn announced the officers.
"Captain McCann and Commander Leigh of the USS Nemesis;"
"Reporting as ordered, sir." finished McCann being the senior officer of the group. Winchester returned the salute then continued with his cigar.
"Have a seat." he rumbled as he puffed away. As they sat down, Quinn bowed his head slightly to McCann in silent greeting.
"Now that the Captain is here, we can start." announced the Starfleet Commander as he looked out of the office windows. He turned to Tarikaza and waved,
"Proceed."
"Thank you, sir. Due to this glitch in the Rimworld areas, we sent the closest vessel to conduct welfare checks of the capital world of Diginic. The vessel dispatched was the USS Learmonth, a Kiev class destroyer. As the Learmonth approached Diginic, she subsequently disappeared off the scope, and hasn't answered a hail for eighteen hours. The USS Intrepid and USS Fearless, both Sovereign class heavy cruisers, are on the way now, and approximately three hours out at emergency warp." He drew another breath and continued softly, as McCann shifted in his chair.
"The captain of the Fearless is Captain Ariel Piper. She has her head on properly and is one of our best starship commanders. So is Mike Watson on the Learmonth."
Admiral Winchester turned to Admiral Cleave and spoke through a cloud of smoke.
"I need your squadron to prepare for immediate launch. I am aware of the fact you are short of six fighters but they should be docked at your facility within two hours. Captain Quinn has the operational orders with him. To be completely honest with you all, I have a very bad feeling about all of this. I'm meeting with the Federation president this afternoon in company with General Reeve, so that we can bring ourselves to a state of readiness. Unfortunately, the other carrier groups are unavailable. The Domination and Excalibur are on the neutral zone covering the Romulans while the Vengeance is out near the Gorn territories. The Minsk task force is at Deep Space four and the Crusader and Atlantia task forces are on covert patrol. The Nevada is still in dry dock after it's collision with the Fenlon and the way things are going it'll probably be decommissioned. If for some reason you are overwhelmed, fall back and advise us. We can't afford to run the risk of losing your squadron to something which has already claimed one ship. Don't get me wrong, this could be all just some type of anomaly, but I would rather be safe than sorry."
"Any questions?" asked Tarikaza.
"No sir." replied McCann, his stomach really knotting up. Winchester took another drag on his cigar then waved them away.
"Good, you're dismissed. Remember, no heroics."
The officers from the 1st Pursuit squadron exited the office and made their way back to the turbo lift. McCann's mind was burning with questions but he held his thoughts until they were in relative privacy. They all handed back their collar tags to the security chief and entered the lift. As the doors closed, Cleave looked at his junior officers.
"Well don't you love this job?" he asked then added to the computer,
"Transporter Room."
"The crew is going to riot." replied McCann. "We have literally just returned from our own covert border patrol." Leigh nodded her head in agreement.
"That I know." answered Cleave. "But you must admit, this is a task designed for our squadron."
"Can't really disagree can we?" agreed Quinn.
McCann scratched his head, more out of frustration that discomfort before turning to Quinn.
"Do we know who is causing the problem, Reece?" asked McCann.
"Do you really need to ask?" Quinn replied, answering one question with another.
"Not really." sighed Leigh. "I was hoping against hope that the Borg had taken off for a while, but us beggars can't be choosers, can we?"
The lift doors opened and they returned to an air of authority and discipline. As they exited the lift, Leigh approached the petty officer that was in charge of the console while the others stepped onto the transporter pads.
"We will be transporting straight to NCC 26779, USS Gascoyne." she ordered.
"Yes, sir." said the young crewman. He started keying in the authorisation codes and advised the party when ready.
"Energise." authorised Leigh as they dissolved in a shimmer of light.
USS GASCOYNE - TERRAN SPACEDOCK
The party rematerialised on the bridge of the Rio Grande class warp shuttle, Gascoyne. The officers moved to the designated passenger seats in the vessel while Leigh approached the pilot, Ensign Neaves.
"Good afternoon Ensign. I'll take over thanks."
"Yes sir. I have started the pre-flight check which is on the secondary screen." advised the ensign. McCann watched Leigh as she settled down into the pilot's chair and the Ensign moved to the other console. Quinn sat down next to McCann and clapped his shoulder, looking at Leigh as she settled into her routine.
"How's it going, old buddy?"
McCann smiled slightly to Quinn. He knew what his old academy friend was referring to.
Better throw him a small bone otherwise he'll nag me all the way through this mission.
"Very good. I wouldn't have asked you to look at the Romulan predicament if I knew this was going to be the result.", trying to change the direction of the conversation.
"Yeah, well you know. I have a gut feeling that it is was going to be connected anyway.", taking the hint well.
"That's not going to surprise me either." admitted McCann. Cleave sat next to Quinn, secured his personal computer and joined in on the conversation.
"Just to change the subject, how are you and Nicola going?" asked the Admiral. He wasn't known to be a subtle man.
"Very well, sir." replied McCann as the shuttle moved into warp speed. "She moved into my apartment before we went on the covert patrol."
"Good for you, Captain. Good for you." Leigh turned in her seat as she secured the ship into warp speed and faced McCann. He smiled and winked at her knowingly. The question the Admiral had asked was a topic of discussion that the couple had been discussing in private for the last few months. While Cleave wasn't a difficult man to approach with problems, other officers who hadn't approached him properly ended up transferred to the other side of the galaxy as officer in charge of utensils and personal hygiene at some non-descript relay station. She returned her attention to the helm and continued to assist the ensign with a diagnostic program he was running. Fifteen minutes later, the Gascoyne was secured from warp speed and started its approach to Io, one of the moons circling the planet of Jupiter. Io was a small, desolate planetoid devoid of life; those very same reasons made it perfect for a covert military base. As the Gascoyne approached Io's horizon line, an orbital spacedock facility appeared, secluded in the shadows of the planetoid. The dock before them was approximately one third the size of the Terran facility, designed to accommodate six vessels and its support personnel. Leigh's ensign conferred with the dock, gaining permission to enter its secret labyrinth. As the runabout approached, the dock's blast doors opened, slowly revealing the starships Vindicator, Conqueror and Nemesis. Inside, several work drones could be seen hovering over the Nemesis, applying new lettering to its primary hull. Leigh looked over to McCann and smiled as she watched her captain and lover sit in awe and stare at his glistening command. The Gascoyne traversed the immense bay, finally arriving at its access-docking ring and started its automated landing manoeuvres. As docking latches and vacuum seals engaged signally an end to the flight, the group rose from their seats and started to exit the vessel as an engineering detail waited to board to start post flight maintenance checks. The boarding ramp gently descended into a large foyer. The Jupiter facility was built two years ago, incorporating the latest in covert technology and ship-borne defence systems, enabling it to be deployed into subjugated worlds or frontier systems that were constantly under attack. The dock could be moved by a Fremantle class warp tug, which was stowed inside the starbase during maneuver. It was equipped with spacious living quarters, several recreational venues for crew entertainment and relaxation; extensive workshops and storage bays for extended deployments. The atrium contained various 'shop fronts', giving it the appearance of an earthside shopping mall. Although the dock was a military installation, it was still a space-borne vessel with a crew of three hundred; from ship technicians to security marines to the executive staff and it also supported the seven thousand odd members of the Nemesis, Vindicator and Conqueror. It was equipped with sporting decks, pools, theatres, concert hall, officer and crew messes, as well as the usual amenities located on any Starfleet vessel. The detail had exited the Gascoyne and were walking towards the operation rooms when they were greeted by the second in command of the 1st Pursuit squadron, Rear Admiral Catherine Dennehy. Dennehy was only a small woman, standing at one hundred and sixty centimetres, but her platinum blonde hair made her stand out in the crowd. She smiled at the group as they approached.
"Do you want the good news or the other news?" she said, the expression on her face unreadable. She was well known for her deadpan poker face and today she was at her best. Cleave studied her puzzled face, looked at his junior officers and finally gave in,
"The good news I suppose."
"The new fighters have arrived as promised and both planes and pilots are settling in. The other news can wait until we get into the office." She turned to address McCann and Leigh.
"I assume that you will want to touch base with your ship. Commander Mullins has been readying the Nemesis while you were at the briefing. You can contact us later." With a dismissing nod of their heads, the two flag officers turned and headed for their offices at the end of the complex. McCann and Leigh, sensing the 'you may leave now' tone in the Admiral's voice turned and headed towards the access way that would lead them to the Nemesis. As they approached the hatch, Commander Reed Mullins was standing next to the main gangway, which was adorned with the starship's silk ensign, her coat of arms and on the other side, a silk flag of the U.F.P. seal emblazoned in white against the blue background. Mullins's face broke out into a smile when the couple approached.
"Well, well it's the weary travellers full of doom and gloom."
McCann smiled.
"Yes Reed, it's good to see you. What's the condition of the ship?" replied McCann. Mullins became serious instantly and started to read the ships status report.
"The Nemesis is approximately one hour from being fully operational. Six new Super-novas fighters are stowed on the flight deck and their pilots are settling in. Colonel Davis reports a full compliment of troops and operational equipment. As a matter of fact, you two are the only ones missing." he summarised, a hint of pride in his voice. It was a massive task to recall over four thousand crew for a starship, but McCann's second in command had come through as usual.
"Very well, X.O. Permission to come aboard?" asked McCann formally coming to attention, Leigh mimicking behind.
"Permission granted." replied Mullins, acknowledging the formality. McCann and Leigh boarded the Nemesis and proceeded directly to the bridge. The Nemesis was a three hundred thousand ton starship with over thirty-five decks ranging from crew quarters to the bridge, engineering, flight, pools and recreation decks. There were also quarters for visiting dignitaries and a fully equipped sick bay that would have challenged most Terran hospitals. McCann, Leigh and Mullins stood in silence for the short, uneventful journey in the turbo lift to the bridge. Leigh looked at McCann, knowing he was holding his breath, relishing the sight of the bridge. As the doors swished open, McCann took one step onto the bridge before the ship's navigator, Lieutenant Viktor Brezhnev stood to attention and announced,
"Captain is on the bridge." The entire compliment of the bridge stood to attention.
"As you were." McCann replied before anybody hurt themselves leaping to attention. Brezhnev approached McCann and snapped a crisp salute,
"The USS Nemesis is fully operational and at your command."
"Thank you, Lieutenant." said McCann. He noticed that Leigh was taking her customary place at the helm and that Mullins had taken his place in the seat next to McCann's command chair, studying the final battle readiness read outs on his swing screen. He cleared his throat and turned to face his Communications officer, Lieutenant Commander Dana Robinson.
"Commander, please open a ship wide channel please."
"Aye, sir. The channel is open." she replied. The two-tone coxswains whistle emitted from the speakers and silence followed.
"Attention please, this is your Captain speaking. I apologise for having to interrupt your shore leave. I was looking forward to some R&R as much as you all were. It appears that we've lost contact with not only the planet Diginic, in the Rimworld sector, but also the destroyer Learmonth. We have been ordered to attend the Rimworld sector immediately with the cruisers Intrepid and Fearless who are already en-route and investigate and rectify any problems in the sector. We will be launching in approximately one hour. That is all." He turned to face Robinson again.
"Get me the Conqueror and Vindicator also thanks."
"Aye, sir. Captains Risan and Cracken on stand by." she replied methodically.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen. Shall I say, 'Once more into the breach, dear friends'." stirred McCann, smiling at the main screen. The commanding officers of Nemesis's support vessels were worlds apart in nature, physiology and temperament. Risan was from Vulcan, a race known throughout the galaxy to be logic driven and devoid of emotion. On the other hand Cracken was Alpha Centaurian. The Alpha Centaurians were similar to humans but had the tendency to be both passionate and aggressive, both in their nature and attitude.
"That comment is very prudent considering the mission brief that we have received." replied Risan.
"You don't say!" blurted the Alpha Centaurian. While the pair seemed to argue, their attitudes and temperaments balanced out each other perfectly.
"But are you two ready for departure?" asked McCann.
"USS Vindicator is ready for operations." replied Cracken, his chest puffing with pride.
"USS Conqueror is available at your command." finished the Vulcan, his formal reply ending with a slight bow.
"Very well. Stand by." ordered McCann. The screens shrunk from the main screen to stand by mode on his personal screen as he leaned to the left hand side of his chair and to consult with his X.O.
"How is Commander Phelps going with the flight deck?"
"I checked with the C.A.G. about five minutes ago. She is in the process of having anti-ship ordnance loaded for a brace of V-22 fighters and for six F-26 fighters."
"Good." McCann lowered his voice to a hushed whisper for the rest of the conversation.
"I am going to be honest with you, Reed. The way Admiral Winchester was talking, we are in for a difficult time. Spread the work through the senior officers about my concerns."
"Aye, sir."
"Don't get me wrong. I think that the crew will perform as always, but make sure they don't take this cruise too casually."
"Understood, sir. Commander Phelps appears to be sharing the same concerns as yourself. She is drilling her crews rather diligently."
"How unusual." McCann replied, lightening the mood of the conversation. Mullins suppressed a laugh as he rose from his chair to supervise one of the new ensigns at the aft weapons console.
"Co-ordinates are laid in and ready to launch, sir." announced Leigh at the helm.
"Thank you, Commander." answered McCann. He rose from his chair, straightened his uniform and announced to his X.O., on the upper concourse of the bridge.
"Commander Mullins, you have the con. I'll be in my ready room, looking over the mission brief."
"Aye, sir." came the formal reply as Mullins moved towards the command chair.
JUPITER STARBASE FACILITY
Admiral Cleave and Rear Admiral Dennehy entered the squadron's command centre, which was attached to the main conference and communications suites. Once the door closed to their executive offices, the couple leapt into each other's arms, enveloping each other into a passionate embrace. After what seemed to be an eternity, they separated, not totally, their arms entwined with each other. She looked into Cleave's eyes, and smiled knowingly.
"Did she agree to the divorce?"
"Yes. It appears that she wanted to get out for a while." replied Cleave, a sigh emitting from his mouth as he rested against his desk. Cleave was approaching fifty-seven years of age, and today he felt every second of them. Dennehy, on the other hand at forty-five years of age, seemed to be blooming and positively radiant. The pair had been conducting an illicit affair for the past year, sneaking a moment together whenever practical. As far as the two flag officers were concerned, nobody knew of the romance and if anyone did, they didn't have the courage to say. Cleave had finally summoned the courage to ask his wife for a divorce and surprisingly, she accepted without batting an eyelid. Dennehy leaned against the desk next to him, not able to contain her news.
"Are you ready for my bit of news?" she asked. Cleave looked down at her sceptically.
"It depends on the news I suppose."
She took his hand before she continued.
"Well, you had better hold on to your hat, Admiral. You're about to become a father. I'm pregnant."
Cleave was glad that Dennehy had a hold of his hand. It stopped him from falling off the desk.
"You're what?"
"Pregnant." repeated Dennehy, deadpan.
"That's what I thought you said. Wow, when did you find out?"
"Three days ago. It was something I didn't want to tell you over sub space net."
"I thoroughly agree. Well when are you due?" probed Cleave, his face starting to break out into a smile and inadvertently looked at her stomach.
"Not until February next year. I'm approximately nine weeks into term." she replied, rubbing her flat stomach knowing the miracle that was growing inside her. Cleave put his hand onto hers looking into her eyes. Dennehy was approaching her forty-fifth birthday and was approaching the mature end of her reproductive days. She had never had any children, putting her career ahead of family. For some unknown reason now felt the right time to start with someone she truly loved. He looked into her eyes, and smiled.
"Excellent. Excellent," He murmured as he lightly kissed her.
USS NEMESIS - JUPITER
Commander Jane Phelps strutted around the flight deck on the USS Nemesis like a brooding hen. This was her domain where she was queen and look out anybody who thought otherwise. She knew that this ship was purpose built for her birds and that made her feel good. Her diligently support crews were functioning like clockwork and the new fighter jocks were settling in, which in itself was unusual. They usually liked to push a female C.O. just to see how far they could go. On the other hand, when the jocks found out they were serving on one of the few carriers in Starfleet they towed the line pretty quick as hundreds of other pilots were eager for their positions. She stopped to pause and observe her crews at work. Yes indeed, they are a fine crew. Before she permitted herself a private smile of satisfaction, her chief pilot, Commander Julian Carter approached. Carter was one of the best fighter pilots she had ever seen. He reminded Phelps of herself with his ability to lead his men into the fray of combat and in the way in which he ran his squadrons. He zipped up the sleeves of his flight suit and stood next to Phelps.
"Hard day at the office, Julian?" she asked sarcastically.
"No, just a satisfying day, C.A.G. And you?" replied Carter.
"Let's put it this way. It would be a good day to splash some bad guys," she answered with a huge grin on her face. The first brace of V-22's were lined up onto the catapult launchers, ready for take off. Phelps motioned for Carter to follow her into the crow's nest. The crow's nest was the control room that overlooked the launch area. From there, the flight combat controllers sat and ran the fighter operations. As they were walking up the ramp towards the nest, Phelps personal communicator beeped. The device was shaped the same way as the Starfleet symbol and was worn above the left breast. She tapped the badge with her right hand to answer the page.
"Phelps here."
"It's McCann. Grab Carter and meet me in my ready room as soon as possible." came McCann's voice from the tiny speaker.
"Aye sir. He's with me now. We're on our way. Phelps out." She touched the tiny device again to end the transmission and looked at the Carter.
"Well, Julian. Let's go find out who we fight today and why our shore leave was really cancelled."
"And if he knows about us yet," he winked in reply as he followed her up to the bridge.
The ready room, also known as the war room, was situated just off the main bridge. All of the senior officers were present, seated around an oval table. Each seat was equipped with a small computer console and screen. McCann sat down at the console and assessed each of his officers. To his left was Commander Reed Mullins, his executive officer. After Mullins, was Lieutenant Commander Dana Robinson, chief communications officer. She was a petite woman, only standing at one hundred and sixty centimetres, and a devotee of the ancient art of ninjitsu. Next was Leigh, Lieutenant Commander Reeber Takulac, the ship's weapons officer. Going down the right hand side from McCann was Commander Phelps; Commander Carter; Lieutenant Brezhnev, chief navigator; Commander Nathaniel Carey, the ship's engineering officer; Commander Madeleine Burgeon, chief medical officer and finally Colonel Perry Davis, officer in charge of the five hundred marines on board. He eyed them all one more time, drew a deep breath and started.
"First order of business is to apologise profusely for the sudden disruption of your shore leave. I must admit I wasn't particularly impressed myself but once the mission is over, I'll just have to arrange a bit more for you." The room rippled in polite laughter but it soon subsided. Everyone in the room knew they rarely had full shore leave whilst attached to the squadron.
"Secondly, the mission brief. By now, you should have read your copies of the Mission Brief Analysis. The MBA only contained, due to the extremely rushed nature of the incident, mission objectives and basic outline of events prior to the compilation. What I need from you people is detailed operational guidelines. Everything from standard mission protocols to reclamation parameters and possibly biological disasters. And we are going to need to do it quickly. The squadron leaves Jupiter within the hour. I'm going to tell you the same thing that the Fleet commander told me before we left."
He paused for effect and breath before continuing.
"The mission is going to be difficult due to the unknown elements involved and he feels ill at ease with the situation, so we will treat it as such. If we run into any huge problems that we can't handle, we are to withdraw and await assistance."
The room once again was deadly silent, the officers looking at each other in surprise. McCann continued.
"I know what you are thinking. What are we going to run into out there that the Starfleet commander tells the captain's of three capital ships to haul ass if it gets too much or that the situation might actually get on top of us. I need suggestions." Mullins started first.
"The crew of this vessel is ready to go. I think what is really blinding us at the moment is the lack of intelligence about the planet and surrounding sector."
"I concur.", agreed Davis. The marine's baldhead glistened from the natural light that came from the ceiling. He rose from his chair to address the meeting.
"We are going to be using a standard form of strike against whatever threat there is at the site, combining both transporter and the air arm. If we are unable to use the recon shuttles or send in a probe, then we may have to obtain authority to get one of the cruisers to perform a cloaked tactical and biological scan of the planet."
"You won't need to obtain permission." clarified McCann. He trusted Davis enough to give him whatever was in his power to provide. The view screen in the conference table lit up showing a live action three-dimensional shot of the flight deck. Phelps rose to address the group.
"Six V-22 fighters are already in the 'Alert1' position ready for immediate launch. I have pilots sitting in the fighters, waiting for confirmation codes. Behind them in "Alert5' are six F-26 fighter equipped with anti ship torpedoes just in case we run into any capital type ships. I also agree with Colonel Davis that we are running blind at the moment. Our set-up is all pretty standard until we receive additional intelligence."
"OK. What do we know about this planet, beside the usual tourist propaganda." asked McCann. On cue, Brezhnev rose from his chair and the view on the holo-screen changed from the flight deck to an image of the planet of Diginic. The Russian cleared his throat and started.
"As you can see from the image, the planet of Diginic is a singular class M planet which is capable of supporting carbon based life forms. It has two moons, Yur and Crie. Yur contains a forward base supporting their defence force while Crie is a desolate satellite. The main continent on Diginic is known as Freadn. The U.F.P. beacon that all planets are required to transmit constantly, located in the capital on Freadn, still hasn't been reactivated. The planet is approximately eighty percent fresh water which seems to be an endless commodity and its main export, and has a permanent population of thirty million people."
Brezhnev changed the image to the forest planet of Rimier and continued.
"The closest planet to Diginic is Rimier II, the capital world of the Rimworld sector. They haven't been able to contact anybody on Diginic either, but since they aren't aligned with the Federation, they were unable or unwilling to assist. Their space faring fleet is mainly civilian based and they haven't any real offensive capability."
Brezhnev sat down after his report and Mullins stood up to continue.
"Starfleet Intelligence have lost contact with their listening post on the planet surface. The only possible reasons that they have come up with and that I also agree with, is that either the whole planet has become the victim of foul play. Whether it's by internal or external reasons, or has fallen under the influence of a natural phomenena we can't be certain. If so this will change our mission parameter to a humanitarian relief role instead of armed assault."
"I agree. OK, we seemed to have covered all the bases. Continue with your preparations and we will organise a probe to be launched from a stealth shuttle when we rendezvous closer to the planet. If that can't be done, then we shall have the Conqueror provide cloaked recon. That will be all. Dismissed." Leigh approached McCann as the rest of the staff filed out to the bridge.
"I didn't know that Viktor was so well versed in the sciences.", she noted.
"It's a pleasant surprise isn't it." McCann replied holding her hand.
"You look tense."
"I am. The computations to get to Diginic weren't easy when you don't have a U.F.P. beacon to lock onto. I nearly got the old sextant out and climbed onto the hull." she laughed in reply.
"Would love to have seen that." he smirked as he kissed her lightly on the lips.
"Don't be naughty. We might get sprung."
"Give me a break. Everybody knows." he pleaded.
"Yeah, that's OK for you Captains but I've got to associate with the others you know."
"Oh, I'll remember that."
"I'll remind you later on, lover. That's a promise." she teased as she left the ready room.
"Damn," McCann muttered under his breath as he followed her out the door.
Naval Doctor, Commander Madeleine Burgeon was tired. She was just six months short of retiring from active duty, about to sign on at the prestigious Cedar Sinai hospital in Los Angeles when she received the transmission to recall to the Nemesis. She wasn't too impressed either when she found out about the mission that they were taking on either. Burgeon was going to approach the Captain about transferring off the vessel but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She had served with McCann on the Sydney, held the ship's crew together not only when the captain of the vessel was killed, but in the disaster's aftermath. She felt close to her captain, not like a lover but as a friend, considering she was nearly fifteen years older than him. McCann was an outstanding officer and looked after his crew well and because of this, she decided to stay with him until her last day. Burgeon dragged her index finger along one of the diagnostic tables in the sick bay, reminiscing. She had spent all her Starfleet career in starship sick bays, preferring to work at the cutting edge of military medicine rather than a million miles away at a starbase facility. But unfortunately, her mind was willing but her body was weak. She was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma approximately six months ago, and had managed to hide the symptoms from her peers and subordinates. Her chief nurse, Lieutenant Commander Kate Muldoon, approached her.
"The sick bay is ready." she reported.
"Thank you, Kate. Please have Doctor Salek join me in my office."
"Certainly Doctor," the nurse replied as she spun on her heels and left for the intensive care suite. Burgeon walked into her office and sat down. As she dialled up her computer, Salek walked into the room. Lieutenant Commander Salek was Burgeon's second in command, friend and confidante. She learned to confide in the Vulcan months ago when he found out about her disease. The tall man stood impassively at the door.
"You wished to see me?" asked Salek.
"Yes Salek.. Please, sit down."
The Vulcan moved into a chair near her desk. Burgeon fidgeted with her fingernails, then started.
"You are aware that I am retiring in six months."
"Yes I am." replied Salek, crossing his leg onto his knee.
"Well, I also applied for a job at the Cedar Sinai Medical centre in Los Angeles."
"A highly regarded facility.", commented the Vulcan.
"Yes it is. I received confirmation that I was successful in my application." she finished.
"Congratulations. Has Captain McCann been made aware of the situation."
"No.", she hesitated before continuing.
"The way the mission brief reads, I hesitate to advise him of the news as his plate will be full. After this mission is over, I shall speak to him."
"Of course." nodded Salek.
"I also wish to tell him that you would be my replacement. Your promotion is due again when we return from this mission and I am aware that you have declined your advancement for more than a year. You are more than deserving Salek and deserve to be rewarded." Salek raised a very slight smirk and bowed his head slightly.
"I would be honoured."
"Very well. Please continue to prepare the I.C.S."
"Yes, sir." replied Salek as he rose from his chair and left the room.
Robinson turned from her comms console and spoke to McCann, who was making notations in the duty log.
"We have received a priority one message from Starfleet Admiralty. They contain the launch confirmation codes."
"Any audio?" queried McCann.
"Negative, sir."
"Transfer them to the helm. Mr. Leigh, please verify and confirm."
Leigh keyed up her console. The codes flashed by and the computer beeped a response.
"Codes are confirmed, sir." she replied.
"Very well. Mr. Robinson, please issue codes to the Conqueror and Vindicator and have them ready for launch."
"Aye, sir and noted in the ship's log," Robinson replied as she commenced the transmission of the codes. McCann touched an icon on his screen, the boson's whistle sounded as the ship wide audio came to life.
"This is the Captain. We will be launching immediately. That is all."
He closed down the speakers.
"Conqueror and Vindicator are signalling they are ready, Captain." advised Robinson.
"Acknowledged." replied McCann. He straightened himself in his chair, and issued the order to depart.
"Helm, ahead one quarter impulse power."
Leigh confirmed the order.
"Ahead one quarter, aye. Detaching all dock umbilicals."
The ship lurched against its moorings and life-support cables that held the ship in its position inside the dock and supplied it with power, waste removal, environmental re-supply & essential services. The piping started to retract into their receptacles as the ships massive bulk slowly moving away from the interior wall of the spacedock. As if waiting for permission, the Conqueror and Vindicator mimicked the Nemesis's actions and started to stir within their pens, waiting to fall in line behind the carrier.
"Moorings are cleared. Shipboard systems are active." advised Brezhnev.
"Very well. Once we have cleared the dock, warp eight on our pre-selected course."
"Aye sir." replied Leigh. The Nemesis began to move fluidly towards the blast doors of the spacedock. Once the Nemesis moved through the entrance doors and into open space, the starships Conqueror and Vindicator followed suit. As the Vindicator cleared the blast doors and slowly came into formation, her captain signalled the Nemesis.
"USS Vindicator advises in formation and ready to depart." reported Robinson.
"Thank you. Commander Leigh, ahead warp nine." ordered McCann.
"Aye, sir. Warp nine.", replied Leigh, noting the change in speed. The small armada hurdled into the abyss of warp, not knowing what they would meet at their destination.
Commander Nathanial Carey sat in the officer's lounge of the Nemesis a happy man. Although he would never admit to it in public, he loved being on the ship immersing himself in the engine room and tinkering around with the most expensive toy in the galaxy. He considered the ship his baby and when she broke, he tended to her wounds. He swirled the last dregs of his cold brown Altarian ale, as he noticed McCann and Leigh approach him. He had known the couple since they served together on the Sydney and he enjoyed their company, especially Leigh's and rose from his easy chair when they stopped at his table.
"Howdy. Having a drink?" he asked.
"O yes." replied McCann. He turned his head to his partner.
"What would you like, Nic?"
"Bourbon and dry, thanks." she replied.
"Carey, you OK with yours?" asked McCann.
"No, I'll go again." he replied draining the remainder of the glass, giving his captain a thumbs up sign and his empty glass.
"I'll be back." said McCann as he strode off towards the bar. He had been looking forward to his off duty hours since he got on board. The whole fiasco they called this mission and the pure lack of information was starting to grind on his nerves. Doesn't matter, it was now the problem of Lieutenant Commander Reeber Takulac, the Officer Of the Day. As McCann waited at the bar for his order to come through from the replicater, he turned around and watched the various officers in the lounge area. The Nemesis had several lounges that were used for the non-commissioned officers and marine personnel. Those areas were larger than the officer's lounge and were known to be a lot rowdier. He noticed a couple of fighter pilots in the corner was using a popular version of an arcade game that required participants to fly old fashioned, prop driven Mosquito's used during the Earth's World War II against German Messerschmitt 109's. Essentially, it was a dog fighting game and the graphics generator made the two planes dive in and out amongst the crowd. He thanked the steward for the drinks and carried the serving tray back towards the table. As he approached the table, he noticed that the two fighter pilots having the dogfight captivated Carey and Leigh.
"They aren't bad are they?" said Leigh.
"I'm just glad they are on our side." replied McCann as he put the respective drinks in front of his friends. He sat down and sipped his drink, the tension in his shoulders slipping away.
"Ah, that's good." groaned Carey.
"Amen." agreed McCann.
"Listen to you two. You sound like you have been on a alcohol free junket for the past ten years." scolded Leigh. The two officers looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders simultaneously and continued with their drinks. Leigh shook her head in amazement and continued to watch the holographic planes. The mood of the evening remained the same, with several other officers joining the group. After two more hours, McCann and Leigh said their goodnights, left the lounge retreating to McCann's quarters where they both fell into each other's arms and into a fitful sleep.
USS NEMESIS - RIMWORLD SECTOR
The next day was not the bearer of good news. In fact, the reports from Diginic gradually became worse. The USS Intrepid and USS Fearless arrived in the system and subsequently disappeared without a trace. Starfleet Command issued the squadron with an order to return to Jupiter, much to the chagrin of those on board. McCann successfully argued that, as the squadron was only fifteen hours away, it would be a fruitless exercise withdrawing since there was an obvious problem in the system. The Admiralty finally relented its argument and the squadron was given permission to continue on. As they approached their destination, McCann ordered the ships out of warp speed and to engage the cloaking devices on all vessels. The cloaking device caused the ship it was fitted to, to disappear not only from visual view but also from all known types of scanning and detection equipment. On the flight deck, Phelps and Davis were supervising the loading of a R3 type probe into the rear of a ZH-55 recon shuttle. The shuttle's pilot, Lieutenant jg Edward Steele was receiving a final briefing from Carter while the payload technician, Chief Petty Officer Jonah Hill was assisting the marines storing the probe before he started to load the final sequences into its processor. McCann entered the flight deck via the C.A.G.'s lift, located near the Combat Control Centre. As he approached the shuttle, Phelps noticed him and met him half way. She flipped McCann a crisp salute.
"Good morning, sir." she said starchily.
"Good morning, C.A.G. I see the loading of the probe is proceeding well?" McCann asked.
"Yes, sir. Commander Carter is relaying a final brief to the pilot and the payload tech has stowed the probe, ready for deployment."
"Very well." McCann replied as he noticed Carter walking up.
"Good morning, Carter." said McCann.
"Good morning, sir. Good night last night." returned Carter, referring to the previous night's joviality.
"You can say that again.", smiled McCann, suppressing a laugh, but quickly changing the subject.
"Who is the pilot that is going on the mission?" continued McCann, trying to see into the shuttle.
"Lieutenant Edward Steele. He is one of the best shuttle pilots on the roster and both him and his mission handler have done this sort of insertion mission several times before." replied Carter.
"Good. We can't afford to have any mistakes. If our cover is blown, and we lose the element of surprise, we might as well fold our tents and go home."
"He is aware of the gravity of the situation."
"I'm sure he is, Julian." reassured McCann. He came to attention and saluted both his sub-ordinates.
"Carry on."
The two Commanders returned the salute as the Captain left the flight deck. As McCann entered the turbo lift to return to the bridge, his personal communicator beeped on his chest. He lifted his hand to activate the press to talk.
"McCann here."
"Bridge, sir." came Robinson's tiny voice through the device. "Flight deck is reporting the shuttle is ready to launch."
"Acknowledged. I have just left the flight deck and returning to the bridge now. McCann out."
He shut down the communicator and waited for the lift that would take him directly to the bridge. Within a minute, he was back on the bridge, as the lift deposited him into a hive of activity. To the untrained eye, one would think it was uncontrolled pandemonium, but everything worked to a specific if not hasty order. As he approached his chair in the centre of the room, Mullins vacated it and moved into his own previously vacant position.
"Is the Nemesis in launch position?" McCann asked.
"She is just coming about now, sir." replied Mullins.
"Nemesis is in launch position now." confirmed Leigh a heart beat later.
"X.O. Advise flight deck they may launch when ready." ordered McCann. Just as Mullins relayed the order to Phelps, the passive radar came up onto the main screen. A moment later, a red icon in the shape of the shuttle it represented appeared on the tactical display leaving the Nemesis, showing its invisible position with its precious cargo, hurtling forward towards the planet of Diginic.
USS HALYCOM - DIGINIC
The ZH-55 shuttle slowly hovered off the deck, slowly making it's way to the entrance at the mouth of the flight bay. Inside, its pilot, Lieutenant junior grade Edward Steele and payload specialist Petty Officer Jonah Hill completed their flight checks before moving off into the vacuum of space.
"Launch systems are showing green, Eddy." advised Hill, his fingers a blur over the various consoles. Steele nodded his head in silent reply before he opened a channel to speak to the flight controller on the Nemesis.
"Nemesis, this is Phantom one on tactical three. Commencing our run now."
"Acknowledged. Enjoy your run."
"Thank you." He closed the channel and looked at his mission handler.
"The load is secure?"
"Affirmative. Cloaking device is holding perfectly also." Hill replied, his white teeth flashing over his dark face. They both looked over their shoulders to the rear of the shuttle, staring at the tall missile standing on the transporter pad. Steele smiled at Hill, before returning to the screen.
"Let's do the deed."
USS NEMESIS - DIGINIC
Barely two hours had passed after the probe's deployment before it started to return information to the Nemesis. The news that the probe sent back was grim and disturbing. Initial survey results suggested that the entire surface of Diginic was scorched burnt beyond recognition. Not a living entity, either humanoid or vegetation was present on the planet. Comprehending this information was hard enough, but trying to estimate where the three starships that arrived before them had gone sent a cold shiver done everybody's spine. The probe started scanning the surface for the missing ships and not before long, the answer everyone on the bridge had been dreading finally arrived. On the visual scan that came from the probe, the unmistakable outline of a warp nacelle came into view. As the probes imagery closed on the nacelle, a ship's call sign emblazoned on the wreckage's side was clearly visible. NCC 2775 - USS INTREPID. A cold shutter went down McCann's spine as he sat back down in his command chair.
"Robinson, send to Starfleet Command with that footage. 'Have found wreckage of USS Intrepid and also evidence of mass destruction on planet surface. Am searching for possible trail of offending ships and or entity. McCann, CO Nemesis.' Get me the Conqueror and Vindicator immediately then have engineering start to recover some of that wreckage for analysis." said McCann, his mood going from good to bad in a short space of time.
"Conqueror and Vindicator are on line, sir", replied Robinson, almost immediately. The rest of the bridge crew stared at the view screen in a perpetual daze, almost daring their composure to crack and let their emotion break through. The faces of Risan and Cracken came onto McCann's console screen.
"Did you see the footage from the probe?" asked McCann, already knowing the answer.
"Affirmative." replied Risan. "We can assume that the fate of the Fearless and Learmonth is the same as the Intrepid."
"The sheer power of whatever caused the destruction of both the planet and the three ships is staggering." replied Cracken, clearly shaken.
"Precisely, I'm bringing the squadron to red alert." replied McCann. "We are obviously dealing with an unknown hostile."
"I concur." replied Cracken. "Keep in touch. Vindicator out."
"We are following your lead, Captain. Our engineers and /scientific staff with liaise with yours to start a recovery detail. Conqueror out," finished Risan as his image disappeared.
McCann turned to Mullins and nodded his head.
"X.O., sound red alert."
"Aye, sir."
Mullins signaled to Leigh to carry out the order. The klaxon howled and the bridge was bathed in a blood red light, bringing a hellish ambience to the entire ship. The ship's defence fields activated, bringing two out the three layers of shields on line.
"X.O., I want a briefing in the ready room in ten minutes and bring all the probe data. I'll be in the ready room, trying to contact Admiral Tarikaza", concluded McCann as he strode out off the bridge.
McCann walked into the ready room and strode directly towards the communications suite. He switched on the intercom and Robinson's voice came through the speaker.
"Yes sir .", she replied, acknowledging the hail.
"Dana, please contact Admiral Tarikaza at Starfleet Intelligence." asked McCann as he rubbed his face wearily.
"Aye, sir." replied Robinson. McCann brought up all the information he had, including the new probe reports, MBA and the department readiness reports and had them ready for his brief to Tarikaza. His computer console beeped and Robinson's voice came through.
"Rear Admiral Tarikaza is on secured channel, Captain." she announced formally.
"Patch it through." answered McCann, straightening in his chair. The screen came up.
"Good morning, Captain." greeted the Asian officer.
"Good morning, sir. The news here is not good." replied McCann.
"Before you continue, Captain, I must advise you that also listening in on our conversation is Fleet Admiral Winchester and The President of the United Federation of Planets. Please continue, we are eager to hear your report."
"Yes, sir." replied McCann, unperturbed by his lofty audience and continued.
"The situation is grim. With this report you will be receiving visual data from our probe, which we are still breaking down for analysis. You can clearly see the mass destruction on the planet surface. We have also located some partial remains from the USS Intrepid. We are still looking for any indication of the Fearless and Learmonth but we aren't holding high hopes. No survivors have been detected."
"Are there any signs of whom or what did this?" asked the President, his bearded mouth agape with dismay.
"No, sir." replied McCann. "To be honest with you Mr. President, the whole area was once a busy populace and is now completely devoid of life, both advanced and biological. The sheer magnitude of destruction is quite overwhelming. We will know more about the situation at the end of the day. I suggest that efforts be made to contact the Romulan Empire. From the direction of the destruction and the fact that no one has heard from them in a while, they too may have fallen prey to whatever caused this."
Winchester drew in a breath and nodded in agreement.
"We have brought the whole sector to yellow alert. Contact us when you have any more information. At this stage, you are running the operation out there, Captain. You have all the ranging powers that are tabled in the Starfleet Emergency Parameters and Invasion Contingency and the authority to carry out whatever is required. Starfleet out."
McCann leaned back in his chair as his senior departmental heads walked into the room. He considered the hidden message that was buried in the conversation from Winchester. The powers incorporated into S.E.P.I.C. were wide ranging from commandeering of vessels to invasion of foreign sovereign territories to pursue and destroy whatever parties were responsible. He motioned for his staff to sit down at their positions and various officers loaded information into their consoles, ready for the briefing. McCann straightened in his chair and began.
"OK. I have just relayed to the Fleet Commander and the U.F.P. president an analysis of the situation. They have advised us that we have a free hand at this stage and are now authorised to adopt battle conditions under S.E.P.I.C. Please, your thoughts and ideas."
Mullins rose first, cleared his throat and proceeded.
"Initial recon of the planet surface has revealed complete devastation. The geological scan indicates that the sub-surface has remained intact. As the Conqueror is better equipped with scientific personnel, they are preparing scientific away teams to beam to the surface to start an investigation. After obtaining geometric and atmospheric samples, we should be able to determine what type of weaponry was used. We have also started recovering several pieces of wreckage from the Intrepid, including part of the impulse drive. Engineering are readying the maintenance bays to receive the wreckage that they are now starting to recover. I have also ordered Major Weeslier to send his forensic detail. By far the best lead we have so far is the vapor trail from the planet. At the moment, the Vindicator is plotting a course to find whatever is leaving this trail. Unfortunately, the trail doesn't belong to a Starfleet vessel."
McCann nodded his head and faced Carey.
"What have your engineers discovered?"
"At this stage, very little. After analyzing the wreckage footage, the computers had only just identified some components. The parts are from the port dorsal fin, the computer shielding on the eighth deck, and the coolant piping for the port torpedo tube. These pieces appear to have only been subjected to a singular explosion only, which would have been when the ship was destroyed. The only other part left, the warp drive intermix casing seemed to have dual scarring on it, which is where the ship was possibly hit, the first scorch mark is from the weapons fire and the second from the resulting explosion. If that is the case, they never had a chance. Whoever destroyed that ship, knew of its only weakness and exploited it straight away. We should be aware, just in case we come across whoever did this."
"OK, that's a start. Commander Phelps, launch a combat patrol, consisting of flights of four. I don't want any of the fighters to be compromised. I also want them to be around the clock and encompassing the two remaining vessels. The group will remain at red alert for the foreseeable future."
McCann turned to Davis and continued.
"Colonel, I need you to send squads onto the surface to protect the geological teams on the ground. I also want you to ready the zero gee troops. We may need to board a vessel at any time."
"Aye, sir. I shall have them ready immediately.", replied the marine officer. McCann turned to Carey again. The engineer was writing into his electronic scribble pad.
"Carey, I also need to know if the cloaking device will hold for an extended time. If it can't, we may need to high tail it out of here."
"The cloaking device is fully operational, Captain." nodded Carey.
"We now know that this is not a mercy mission. If we do come across any undesirables, we are under orders to dispose of the threat. Although it hasn't been proven, there is a conspicuous lack of diplomatic contact from the Romulan Empire. Starfleet Intelligence is trying to contact any of their operatives and the President is trying to contact the Romulan Praetor. Keep that information in mind at this stage. That will be all."
The group started to file out of the ready room, when the reserve communications officer, Lieutenant Rippler called on McCann's communicator.
"Sir, I have a priority message from Starfleet Admiralty. It is secured." McCann motioned for the group to sit back down in their chairs as he touched his chest.
"Send it through to the ready room viewer, Lieutenant."
"Aye, sir." The viewer lit up as they sat down and the face of Fleet Admiral Winchester emerged, obligatory cigar in hand.
"Good morning, Admiral.", started McCann.
"Good morning, Captain. I see your bridge crew is here also so I'll get straight to it. We were advised a short time ago that the Praetor of the Romulan Star Empire was killed along with his entire cabinet consisting of the leaders of the Homeworld clans, by an unknown entity. Apparently, the new representative, Praetor-Elect Galhomn has stated that they have the situation under control and don't require the assistance of snivelling Starfleet infidels, so we obliged him and promptly terminated the call. One hour later; an unidentified vessel near the Romulan border overtook the patrol frigate, USS Idaho. He pursued for two hours at warp twelve before his ship slowed as the warp intermix chamber started to disintegrate."
McCann suppressed a laugh but couldn't stop the smile. The captain of the Idaho, Samuel Tan was known to brag about how fast his ship could go, and that no one could get away from him. He made a mental note to tease Tan mercilessly when he spoke with him next.
"The last known Co-ordinates for the vessel was one five seven, mark two three nine. It appeared that it was heading towards Tholian space."
"Was it Borg?", asked McCann.
"The vessel was not consistent with being of Borg design but that doesn't mean anything either. We are sending the Domination group to the Tholian neutral zone."
"I agree. Captain Andrevich is a good commander."
"Keep us informed on the analysis on the recovered debris. Winchester out."
The screen faded to black as McCann pivoted in his chair to face his subordinates.
"It appears that the offending party is on the other side of the proverbial galaxy. We shall keep the combat patrols going for another twelve hours. If they haven't engaged an offensive target by then we shall de-cloak the squadron, which will enable us to use the ship's sensors more effectively. I shall secure us from general quarters once we are de-cloaked. Dismissed."
The group once again rose from their chairs and started to return to their individual departments. McCann sat down into his command chair and took a deep breath. The puzzle wasn't getting any clearer. He opened a channel to his screen vessels and advised them of the changing situation. The two captains agreed with McCann's ideas. The tension in the squadron started to reduce and the crew's uneasiness seemed to return to normal. The day after the meeting in the ready room, McCann received a call from Commander Carey as he observed Mullins and Robertson deciphering a set of communiqués they had obtained from eavesdropping on a Romulan spy satellite nearby. He tapped his communicator to respond.
"McCann here."
"Commander Carey, sir. Can you please come down to engineering? We have found something interesting in the wreckage."
"On my way. McCann out."
He leaned down to Robinson and spoke.
"Keep going on with those communiques. We need to know what's going on in there. Reed, you're with me."
He raised his voice towards Leigh.
"Commander Leigh, you have the con. Commander Mullins and myself will be in main engineering."
"Aye, sir." replied Leigh giving McCann a quick wink as she settled into the command chair.
McCann and Mullins walked down the aisle of deck sixteen, past the maintenance workshops towards the main engineering deck. The area was expansive, covering all the engineering, propulsion and power requirements on the ship. As they looked through the engineering bay, the vast intermix chambers stood over four decks in height, dominated the bay. The steady throb of the intermix chamber and warp drive resonated throughout the ship, giving the ship a heartbeat, the sense of being alive. Next to the chamber at right angles, the glow of the dilithium crystal storage facility cast an eerie shadow across the bay and into the specialist workshops. These workshops contained various tools for repairs from simple electronic work on processing boards to warp and impulse engine overhauls to manufacture of replacement parts. There also contained the weapons workshops, where the various weapons on the ship from the simple hand phasers and rifles to the fighter mounted phaser banks could be repaired. They found Carey with several of his engineers with four marine's specialists in the analysis room. As McCann and Mullins approached Carey turned around and smiled, cleaning his hands with a piece of cloth.
"Having fun, Commander?" asked McCann, as Mullins chuckled to himself.
"Well yes I am sir. We have come up with something quite unusual.", replied Carey, walking into his office with McCann and Mullins following him. The chief engineer's office was full of various pieces of antique machinery that he had collected during his career. On his desk was a model of the first warp drive shuttle built by Zefram Cochrane and hanging on the wall behind him was an oil painting of the USS Nemesis, completing an impulse turn with the Earth and moon orbiting behind it, braced by a pair of V-22 fighters escorting. McCann and Mullins sat down on the sofa lounge opposite his desk, as Carey accessed his desktop computer console. He drew a deep breath and started his summary, clasping his hands together while propping himself on his left elbow.
"OK. We already know that the Intrepid was destroyed by a single shot. We now also know that the sample of the phaser burns taken by the geo. team from the Conqueror matches the phaser burns from the samples out on the floor in the workshop. We have matched that with both the sample packs that we have on record and records that the marine intelligence officer has on her computers, we have determined that the pattern does not match that of any Borg weaponry."
"That's a relief." sighed McCann.
"Not really. The weaponry patterns appear to be typical of Cardassian design. The only problem is that we know who built it, but not who is firing it."
He pointed out of his office, through the plexiglass wall to a female marine officer who was studying a piece of wreckage with a large tricorder. The tricorder was a computer-scanning device that was used to measure varying types of weather, objects, topographical layout and the entire light spectrum from normal to infrared and ultra violet. The tricorder that the marine was using was a specialist machine that was used for measuring weapon signature and residue.
"Major Mackenzie, she's the new marine intelligence officer who transferred from Deep Space Seven. As you know, they've been butting heads with the Cardies for years. Anyway, she practically drooled when she confirmed the readings."
McCann and Mullins looked in the direction of Carey's finger. Mackenzie appeared to be in her thirties, and was very attractive to the eye. McCann raised his eyebrows and turned to look at Mullins, who seemed to be in a state of delighted numbness.
"Reed, I think I'll elect you to ask the major her opinion on the evidence at hand."
"Thank you, sir. I shall endeavour to do my best.", replied Mullins as he squared his shoulders, straightened his tunic and started to walk out the door.
"I'm sure you will; but before you go you should wipe the drool of your chin. It's unbecoming for a Starfleet officer." laughed McCann, with Carey joining in chorus behind him.
"Oh hah, hah!", scoffed Mullins as he stormed out of the office with added theatrics.
Sallyanne Mackenzie looked at the blackened piece of durasteel hull before her. The tricorder in her hands told her that the hull practically reeked of Cardassian disrupter fire. But her mind couldn't comprehend why they would come so far into Federation space. She turned her head to the right and noticed an officer approaching her. His burgundy uniform signified that he was a command officer, and the three circular pips on his collar told her that the wearer had the rank of full commander. She raised her eyebrow as he stood next to her.
"Good evening. I believe you're Major Mackenzie."
Mackenzie put the tricorder down on the floor and extended her right hand.
"That I am. You must be Commander Mullins. I have heard a lot about you from Colonel Davis."
Mullins shook her hand and smiled.
"I assure you Major, It's all lies."
"No doubt. Please, call me Sallyanne."
"I'm Reed. So, I'm told a Cardassian weapon took the Intrepid apart." asked Mullins, as he turned to the charred hull fragment on the deck. Mackenzie nodded her head in reply.
"Yes and on a magnitude which is, quite frankly, unheard of."
She turned her head and noticed Carey and another officer approaching. The officer wore the same colour uniform as Mullins but his collar held another circular pip. There was only one person on the ship that wore the four pips. She pulled herself to attention and saluted.
"Major Sallyanne Mackenzie, Marine Intelligence, sir." McCann returned the salute.
"At ease Major, before you blow a diode."
"Yes, sir."
McCann turned to Mullins and continued.
"Well X.O., what's the story?"
Mullins shot McCann a quick cross-eyed 'what a knock out' look before replying.
"Not much more that what Commander Carey reported to us, sir. We were just discussing the magnitude of the blast."
"Yes, well from what we have seen on the planet surface also, I'm not surprised. Speaking of the surface, we have been asked to go to the forward base on Diginic. I also think that it would be a good idea if the Major accompanied us on the detail. What say you, major?"
Mackenzie's eyes lit up as she replied.
"Yes, sir. Shall I advise Colonel Davis of the situ?"
"Negative. He is already aware and has approved. Grab your field kit and meet us in transporter room four in ten minutes. Dismissed." finished McCann and threw a lazy salute on the end of his sentence. Mackenzie returned the salute and headed for the turbo lift. As she left the deck, McCann looked at Mullins.
"Interesting marine wouldn't you say, Commander?"
"Very interesting, Captain." replied Mullins as they both headed towards the lift.
Transporter room four, located between the primary hull and the flight deck was a busy transporter pad, since it was so close to both the crew quarters and the flight deck. When Mackenzie walked into the room, she noticed McCann and Mullins standing to one side of the room, checking their hand phasers. Instead of wearing their usual ship uniforms, they had redressed into Starfleet battle fatigues. The fatigues were dark bone in colour, made of a Kevlar and cotton combination that not only kept the wearer cool but also protected them from small arms fire and penetration of crude weapons. Over the top of the drill pants and shirt was a woollen jumper and an all weather anorak. The anorak, which contained Kevlar inserts had a built in heavy duty communicator on the left breast pocket, rank and insignia pins on the left hand upper arm with sectional color stripes beneath it. Red was command section officers, tan for engineering services, aquamarine for sciences and charcoal for marines. On the other arm was the ship's emblem, embroided into the sleeve in the same color as the jacket. The pants were tucked into heavy-duty boots, which completed the uniform. The uniform was based on the marine battle fatigues, but the marine fatigues were a darker shade and had khaki flashes through it. As she approached the duo, they holstered their sidearms on a Velcro holster under their jackets.
"Your timing is impeccable, major. We are just about ready."
"Thank you, sir."
McCann looked at Mackenzie, who in turn was looking at Mullins. Oh brother, he thought, he's got it bad. He cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence.
"Well Commander, lets go. If you'll do the honours, please." Mullins looked at McCann absently for a second, then realising that he was speaking to him, quickly turned to the transporter operator, Petty Officer Larson.
"Three to go, Mr. Larson."
"Aye, sir." replied Larson, with a thick Swedish accent. With the touch of a screen, the three officers disappeared into nothingness.
BASE ALPHA - DIGINIC
Lieutenant Reanna Brown, one of the duty geological sciences officers from the USS Conqueror, frowned at the gale force winds that were whipping the now desolate planet of Diginic. To think that barely two weeks ago, the planet supported a teeming metropolis with a population in excess of thirty million people, but now was nothing more than a worthless pile of rock. In her initial survey, she reported that the devastation on the planet surface was caused by a space borne vessel, but now she wasn't so sure. Her teams, comprised of both geologists from the Conqueror and marines from the Conqueror and the Nemesis, were finding unusual pieces of evidence from different points of the globe. One of the first teams found two Cardassian long rifles, a disruptor weapon used by the Cardassian Imperial army. Then approximately two hours later, one of the recon shuttles from the Nemesis on a survey mission, picked up readings for a carbon based life form, nearly five thousand kilometres from the base camp. Once the pilot landed, he confirmed that the reading was in fact remains of a body. Medical teams, specialising in both alien and Terran biology from the Conqueror and the Nemesis and a marine compliment from the Nemesis beamed down to the site. What greeted them was disturbing. The initial report stated that the body was Cardassian, but seemed to have several implants. When one of the surgeons tried to remove one of the implants it exploded, reacting with the surgeons DNA and killed him instantly. The marine platoon commander, Lieutenant Ring, fearing more explosions, declared the area off limits and hustled the teams back to the shuttles for protection. He had also suggested that the situation was turning into something more than a field recon and that McCann should be contacted. She readily agreed, after all she was geologist, not a line officer. As she completed her analysis reports, the communications console beeped for her attention. She leaned over, pressed the receive button and spoke.
"This is Base Alpha. Lieutenant Brown."
"USS Nemesis here, sir. Captain McCann's party is on the way down."
"Thank you, Mr. Larson. Alpha out." She shut the receiver off, straightened her fatigues, and walked through the air lock towards the small entry foyer. As she approached, the shimmering forms of three people appeared before her. As they solidified, Brown brought herself to attention.
"Good evening, sirs. I'm Lieutenant Reanna Brown, USS Conqueror, I'm the duty officer at Alpha base." giving the obligatory salute as she finished her sentence. McCann tossed her a lazy flick in return and stepped forward.
"At ease, Lieutenant. I'm Captain McCann. This is Commander Mullins, my executive officer and this is Major Mackenzie from Marine Intelligence. I believe that you have some interesting information for us."
"Yes, sir. Please follow me." replied Brown as she led the party through the command dome towards a second dome, which was serving as a holding bay. She withdrew a status force field and a covering sheet that protected the evidence from dust and contamination. When the sheet was removed, Mackenzie drew in her breath sharply.
"You found these here?" she stammered.
"Yes, sir."
She activated a schematic of the planet on the computer. On the schematic, a small red dot on the globe. She pointed at the dot with her finger.
"The rifles were found at that location, near the ridge."
The four of them studies the rifles. Mackenzie picked one up and looked it over.
"What type of weapons are they?" asked Mullins.
"These are Retni long rifles. They're a customized version of the Cardassian disrupter rifle. It has a longer barrel and these personalised inscriptions on the side. They also have this bayonet affixed that's more ceremonial than practical. These rifles belong to the Bandoliers, one of the most feared and covert orders in Cardassia. Entry is only obtained into the order if you have displayed honor to the Gul or commander. They are treacherous against all enemies and have a high level of courage combined with an ugly, brutish attitude towards life. The Bandoliers are second only to the Obsidian Orders from the ninth fleet. As a matter of fact, the Bandoliers were with the Obsidian Order in the sixth fleet until they were transferred. So not only do they have skills for planet fall operations while in the sixth but the covert, nightmare style tactics of the ninth." The history sent a shiver down McCann's spine. Mullins shook his head in disgust.
"Great, that's all we need."
McCann nodded his head in agreement.
"What about the explosion site?"
"I know very little about that situation, Captain. As soon as the device detonated it became a security operation, not a scientific one so Lieutenant Ring took over command at the site. Apparently, one of the surgeons died at the scene."
"Yes, so we were told. Thank you for your help, Lieutenant. When will the rifles be transferred to the Nemesis?"
"They will be escorted back to the ship with me on the next relief."
"Very well. We'll leave here and head out to the site." concluded McCann, satisfied with the situation so far.
"There is a shuttle waiting for you, sir. Lieutenant Ring sent it down for you just before you beamed in.", advised Brown, pointing out into the compound. In the sealed and confined area that served as the landing compound, was a matte black insertion shuttle. It's pilot and payload specialist leaning against it nonchalantly.
"Oh, just what I like to see. Thank you once again, Lieutenant." replied McCann.
"No problems, sir. I shall have my reports to your office at the end of the day." The three officers walked out of the domes and proceeded across the compound towards the awaiting shuttle. The pilot pushed himself off the shuttle, stood at attention and straightened his flight suit. As they approached the shuttle, McCann cleared his throat and rumbled.
"It's good to see, Lieutenant that you know how to use a lull in proceedings to maximum effect. If I see you leaning against the vehicle again, you'll be piloting a barge out of the Asteroid mines."
"Yes, sir." replied the pilot stiffly.
"What your name and squadron?" demanded McCann.
"Lieutenant jg Edward Steele, sir. VFS-1, 'Night Ghosts'." he replied.
"Small world, Lieutenant. I was told by Commander Phelps that you were one of the best pilots that she has. I hope that this won't continue." continued McCann.
"No sir!" confirmed Steele.
"Good. You know where we are going, now let's get there."
"Yes, sir." replied Steele as the senior officers bordered the shuttle. The flight to the body site was uneventful, the three officers looking out the observation window at the destruction of the planet surface. Twenty minutes later, the shuttle set down near two other shuttles being battered by a violent windstorm. As McCann's party walked down the gangway of the shuttle, medical teams were in the process of recovering their fallen comrade. A marine lieutenant walked over to them and saluted crisply, shouting to be heard above the wind.
"Good morning, major. I'm Lieutenant Ring, fifth squad, seventh regiment. My battalion leader, Major Griffin has asked me to escort you to the command dome." Since Mackenzie was a marine officer, it was officer's etiquette for her to address Ring, instead of the naval officers.
"Thank you, Lieutenant. This is Captain McCann and Commander Mullins. You have the lead." replied Mackenzie. The three officers followed Ring through the sand towards a set of prefabricated domes that had been set up near the explosion site. One of the domes was emblazoned with a large red cross, the symbol for the medical relief teams. They walked inside, welcome to be out of the weather and the howling wind. McCann brushed his hair with his hand and looked for Griffin. He found the burly marine looking at a reading provided by the unit's computer. He raised his head when the group entered.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in.", he boomed.
"Yes, and greetings to you too." replied Mackenzie, unperturbed and continued.
"I believe you know Captain McCann and Commander Mullins."
"Certainly do, how are you, sir." as he saluted McCann.
"I'm well, Major. What's the situation here now." asked McCann.
"The situation is in hand at this stage. The bomb techs have removed all the explosive devices, and the medical team is having a look now at the body now. The medical team is a marine medivac team, not any of the naval doctors. I figured we couldn't afford to loose any more surgeons."
"You can say that again." added Mullins.
"Tell me about it. Anyway, I'm about to go over." added Griffin.
"Good, let's go." replied McCann. The group, consisting of McCann, Mullins, Mackenzie and Griffin walked towards a force field enhanced area, which was guarded by several armoured marines. Two of the marines noticed Griffin and lowered the field for them to enter. As the group approached the corpse, they noticed three officers were working over the body. Mackenzie circled to the other side of the scene while the others stood next to Griffin. The officer near the body turned around to face Griffin.
"Just about ready to go, major."
"Thanks, doc. Captain Josef Rennel, please meet Major Sallyanne Mackenzie from Marine Intelligence. She's a full nut on the Cardassian military." said Griffin as Rennel nodded a greeting.
"Yes, we've met before. How are you, sir?"
"Fine, Josef. This is Captain McCann and Commander Mullins from the Nemesis."
"I would shake your hand but you'd hate me forever, sir." smiled Rennel holding out his hands that were emitting a quite rancid smell. McCann smiled in return as Mackenzie and Mullins bent over the body, looking intently at the dead body.
"Is this the position that you found him in?" she asked.
"No. We moved him twice, and the blast from the anti personal device moved the body also." Rennel replied.
"The uniform on this soldier isn't from the Bandoliers. This clothing is for an Obsidian Order soldier, possibly the same rank as one of our non commissioned officers." She rose from a crouching position before continuing.
"When I get back to the ship, I'll need to get a closer look at the bionic parts that were removed, it's practically impossible to assess from the damage the blast caused." McCann looked at Mullins, who raised his eyebrows in bewilderment, the same question going through his mind. What was going on? What would make the Obsidian Order want to invade all the way into Federation space? McCann's communicator beeped as they continued to inspect the body, and he activated the device with his hand.
"McCann here."
"Commander Leigh, sir. The USS Idaho has arrived and is in orbit. The commanding officer wishes to see you as soon as possible."
"Understood. Can you beam us out from your position?" asked McCann.
"Affirmative. We have cleared the horizon, your Co-ordinates are locked in and we're ready when you are."
"Stand by." McCann muted the channel and turned to his officers.
"Are you two requiring any more information? If not, we'll beam up and continue from the ship." Mullins and Mackenzie looked at each other, then at McCann. Finally, Mullins spoke.
"I think we have finished here, sir. The rest of the inquiry can be completed on board."
"Oh good." said McCann sarcastically. He hit the communicator on his chest and spoke.
"McCann to Nemesis."
"Nemesis, Leigh here." responded Leigh, her voice tiny from the speaker.
"Three to beam up, Commander."
"Aye, sir. Beaming now." McCann turned to Griffin and spoke quickly,
"Carry on, Major. Your team is doing well."
"Aye, sir." replied Griffin as McCann and the others disappeared. Griffin turned to his team and barked.
"You heard the captain. He thinks you're great but don't stop now, we've nearly finished."
USS VINDICATOR - TELARIAN SECTOR
On the bridge of the USS Vindicator, Captain Dalian Cracken was bent over the science console, intently studying the screen in front of him. Next to him, his executive and science officer, Commander John Langley shifted in his seat, trying to get a better reading from his equipment. A periodical bleep was coming up on the screen, which was putting everyone of edge.
"Any identification?" asked Cracken, already knowing the answer.
"Negative. We're too far out." replied Langley, taking a sip from his beverage cup.
"Any energy readings?"
"Affirmative. Consistent with a destroyer or small outpost."
"There aren't any outposts near here are there?" asked Cracken, hoping for a miracle.
"Negative."
"Damn it. Have they picked us up?"
"No. The cloak was activated before we came across them. It's holding perfectly." replied Langley, checking the status screen for the cloaking device.
"Very well. Slow to one half impulse power." ordered Cracken to the helm officer, Lieutenant Chang.
"Aye sir, slowing to one half." replied Chang. The Vindicator slowed the throb of the impulse engines ebbed to virtual silence. Cracken leaned against the console and stared at the main viewer as Langley worked the sensors. The Vindicator was essentially a muscle ship. While it had a standard array of scientific equipment, the ship was also bristling with weapons. If they came into a fight, she could easily defend itself. Since the two days that they had been looking for the Learmonth and the Fearless, the sensors had picked up the vapour trail of an unidentified vessel and they had been following that trail for two days at warp eight. On the second day, they had finally found the unidentified ship emitting the tell tale trail, in orbit near the gaseous planet of Zurlov. Cracken turned to his communications officer, Lieutenant Sawyer.
"Send a tight covert pulse to the Nemesis, advising them of the situation, and of attempts to confirm the unknown's identity."
"Aye sir, coding and sending now." replied Sawyer, his fingers flying over the console.
USS NEMESIS - DIGINIC
"It's good to see you again, Sammy. I heard about your race with that ship the other day." said McCann, waving his friend to a soft chair in the Nemesis's officer lounge. Captain Samuel Tan blew out his breath in exasperation and sized up the drink that McCann handed him.
"I kid you not; we nearly shook the Idaho apart trying to catch whatever it was. As it stands, it took my engineer nearly a full day to repair and he is still doing the finishing touches."
"I'm glad I'm not your engineer, pal." needled McCann, swirling his glass, then draining it contents. The doors to the officer's lounge slid open and Leigh walked in with two other female officers. She smiled at McCann as she approached the bar and ordered a drink. She received her drink, excused herself from the other officers she walked in with and stopped at McCann's table. McCann stood, kissed her on the cheek and helped her with the chair.
"You finally made it.", said McCann. Leigh let out a small sigh and smiled again.
"Finally. My relief, Lieutenant Polston broke his fingers in the door to his quarters. Doctor Weston had problems resetting his last finger." She settled into the chair, and smiled at Tan. Tan returned the smile and looked at McCann quizzedly.
"You greet all your staff like that?" McCann and Leigh laughed at him as he replied,
"We're in a relationship, you lug head."
Tan drained the rest of his drink and frowned.
"Figures. Well Commander, my name is Samuel Tan, captain of the valiant USS Idaho and esteemed friend of the good Captain McCann.", as he swept his hand majestically through the air. Leigh bowed her head and replied, with equal amounts of grandeur.
"I am Commander Nicola Leigh, pilot of this illustrious and noble vessel the USS Nemesis, consort of the good Captain McCann and could probably fly rings around your flying phaser barrel out there anytime." McCann roared out in laughter, not only at Leigh's comical response, but also at the way Sam's jaw dropped at the reply.
"I bet you could, Nicola. I bet you could." he conceded. The three laughed again and started to tell stories about how one met the other. The conversation turned from swapping tall stories to the current situation and chain of events occurring in the sector.
"What I don't understand is what the Cardassians hope to achieve. It's just plain weird." said Leigh.
"I don't think it's the Cardassians." ventured McCann. Tan turned to McCann, a look of concern on his face.
"What do you mean by that?"
McCann leaned forward, inspecting his fingers as he spoke.
"Think about it. We find a couple of long rifles on the surface, which in reality could be used by anyone. Then a dead Cardie turns up, literally propped up against a rock in the middle of nowhere. The mass destruction on the surface would not have left these nondescript bits of evidence lying around for all to see."
"I suppose, but who's going to go to that much trouble to plant the evidence." asked Leigh.
"Don't know. Sallyanne is down in sick bay with Maddie, observing the autopsies." replied McCann. The three of them nodded their heads in silent acknowledgment. McCann's communicator beeped, breaking the uneasy silence.
"McCann here." he sighed. I need a holiday, he thought.
"Major Mackenzie here, sir. We have some more evidence from the body. Can you attend main sick bay, please."
"On our way, Major. McCann out." replied McCann and closed the channel. He looked at the other two.
"Do you two want to come?"
"Why not." replied Leigh, as she and Tan rose from the table and walked out of the officers lounge.
Mackenzie and Mullins stood back while Burgeon and Salek worked on the Cardassian corpse, as McCann, Leigh and Tan walked into the sick bay. McCann and Tan were finishing their conversation on the size and the amount of personnel on the Nemesis. Mullins saw Tan and started smiling.
"Captain Tan, long time, no see. I here you ship..." Tan cut him off with a gesture of the hand.
"Don't start on me, Reed. I've already been teased about it." grumbled Tan as Burgeon chuckled while checking a wound on the Cardassian body. McCann turned to Mackenzie and Mullins, who were tabulating information onto a desktop monitor.
"What have you got?"
"You are going to love this. The body is up to two weeks old. The implants that we found on his body were actual working parts." She picked up the implants out of a container and showed the group.
"This part here was attached to his skull, near his temple. By the looks of it, it's an optical enhancer, possibly used to enhance both optical and visual targeting. It was connected to this long hydraulic tendon, which ran down the length of his right hand, to his wrist. The wiring harness was hard wired into the muscles, under the skin, and we assume that it would take over the muscular control in the arm, giving him a near perfect ability to target whatever he was looking at." She dropped the contraption onto a table and held up another piece.
"This other piece of fiber-optic ran down from the head unit to something that looks like an antique hard drive. I suppose that it is a crude type of recording device." She placed the pieces back into the tray and dusted her hands off. McCann rubbed his chin, trying to process the information that Mackenzie had told them. Leigh walked over to the autopsy table, looking at the corpse of the Cardassian.
"So the bionic equipment that was attached to him actually worked?" stated Tan, clearly impressed.
"Yes, and it worked well." replied Burgeon. Salek continued.
"The hardware is antiquated, but whoever did the coupling of the flesh to the electronic devices was pretty good considering the gear used. It can be done easily now, with modern bionic prosthesis's but not with this gear." McCann stopped rubbing his chin, hesitating to ask but knowing the next question wasn't going to be received well.
"Who's made the devices?" Burgeon looked at Salek nervously then ventured an answer.
"We believe that the actual implants are Borg, but whoever attached the implants were not Borg. They weren't done with the usual finesse that you would associate Borg technology with." Tan put his hands up in resignation.
"Well gentlemen, this is where I get off. McCann, good to see you again. If you need another ship to assist you give me a yell, I'll be glad to help."
"Thank you, Sammy. I hope it doesn't get to that but if it does, I'll lean on you, my friend. Do you want me to call an escort for you?" Leigh turned to them and spoke.
"I'll take him down to the transporter room. Then I'll go turn in for the night."
"Thanks, Nicola. I'll catch up with you in a while." said McCann as Tan and Leigh walked out of the sick bay. As the doors closed, he turned to address the group.
"OK, you lot. Finish what you are doing now and turn in yourselves. You have done extremely well. It appears that we are dealing with something else besides Cardassian marauders." Mackenzie and Mullins nodded their head in agreement, and then McCann's communicator went off.
"McCann here."
"Lieutenant Preston, sir. O.O.D. We have received an urgent call from the Vindicator. Captain Cracken appears to have found the ship that left the warp trail from Diginic."
"Recall the senior bridge officers, Lieutenant. I'm on my way. McCann out." He closed the channel down and spoke to Mullins, who was already cleaning his hands.
"You're with me, Reed."
"Aye, sir." replied Mullins.
McCann and Mullins stepped onto the bridge. The Officer Of the Day, Lieutenant Preston stood up from the command chair, at attention. McCann sat down into the chair, as Mullins made himself comfortable next to him, dialling up the status panel on his screen. The turbo lift doors opened, ejecting Lieutenant Commander Robinson, Lieutenant Brezhnev, and Leigh. Robinson looked a little blurred from sleeping, but she was ready to go.
"Status report, Lieutenant." commanded McCann.
"The ship is still at yellow alert. Senior bridge personnel are making their way up now. We have the message from the Vindicator on stand by for your viewing."
"Thank you, Lieutenant. That will be all. Dismissed." finished McCann. "Commander Robinson, can you replay the Vindicator message, thanks."
"Aye sir. On screen now." replied Robinson. the main viewer changed from the brown planet of Diginic to the scratchy vision of Dalian Cracken. The face talked, but no sound came through. The recording then stopped and screen went blank.
"Where's the audio, Commander?" asked Mullins.
"It came through but was garbled. It appears the computer was unable to rearrange the signal. Basically, it said that they had found the ship and were going to observe it from a distance, cloaked."
"Contact Major Griffin on the surface. I need to know how long it will take for him to clear out. ", ordered McCann, as Mullins showed him a readout of his screen.
"Aye, sir." she replied, adjusting the receiver nodule in her ear. McCann felt for the communicator on his uniform and activated the transmitter.
"McCann to Phelps." he called sternly.
"Flight control, Phelps here." replied Jane, sounding a little tense herself.
"What's your status, Commander? We maybe flying into a problem soon,"
"We're at your disposal, sir."
"Very well. We're pulling stakes and bugging out. The Vindicator has appeared to have found our mystery ship."
"Just say the word, Captain."
"The word is given, Commander." replied McCann, a smile coming to his face. Robinson motioned for Mullins to approach her console. Mullins moved to her side in long paces. McCann watched them murmur amongst themselves.
"Thank you, Commander. Stand by." He nodded to Mullins, who caught his attention as he finished talking to Robinson.
"Major Griffin will have the camp broken down within five hours. But by the way we are preparing for departure; I would think that we don't have five hours. I am going to suggest that he leave the domes behind. They aren't going anywhere and if someone steals them, it's a fairly cheap and replaceable commodity that isn't really important in the grand scheme of things." McCann nodded his head in approval.
"I thoroughly agree. We need to be out of here immediately. Proceed with the plan, and obtain a revised evac time."
"Aye, sir", assured Mullins as Robinson encoded the orders. The computer beeped practically straight away. Mullins turned to McCann, a slight smile on his face.
"Major Griffin advises they will be back on board in thirty minutes." McCann nodded his approval and stood next to Leigh and Brezhnev.
"Lay in a course to rendezvous with the Vindicator, maximum warp. Engage once the flight deck has advised that all the shuttles are stowed."
"Aye, sir. Plotting a course now." acknowledged Leigh, as she and Brezhnev started to input the various Co-ordinates and weights of the ship. McCann turned to Mullins again, who had made his way back to the centre seats.
"I'll be in the ready room, Commander. The bridge is yours." McCann started walking to his ready room, preparing for the confrontation ahead.
McCann sat down in his high back chair in the ready room, contemplating the scenario that was unfolding. He wondered silently in his mind, what chain of events would unfold over the next couple of days, what horrendous atrocities would unravel before them and what unspeakable acts of both horror and heroism would come to surface? Both he and his crew had seen a lot, and been forced to perform a lot in unbelievably stressful times over the last three to four years. It made him wonder how much the human mind and body could take. The fact that whatever had been before them had quite easily disposed of the other Starfleet vessels that had been before them played a big part on his mind. Should they go forward with all guns blazing, out simply to destroy whatever menace they would find, or should they try a slower more passive path, trying to reason with the entity. He pivoted in his chair and looked out of the large window at the breath taking, but sad view of the planet below. The door chime emitted a soft tone, announcing that someone was waiting to see him. He turned the chair around to face the door.
"Enter.", he commanded. The door opened to reveal Burgeon. She popped her head in through the doorway.
"Can I come in?" she asked inquisitively. McCann motioned with his hand.
"Come in, Maddie." as he rose from his chair to order a drink from the replicator.
"Drink?"
"A coffee would be fine, please." she responded as she settled onto one of the sofa lounges that were against the adjoining wall, near a model of the Nemesis. McCann nodded and spoke to the machine.
"Coffee, Royal blend, seventy degrees, with three dashes of skim milk and one teaspoon of sugar. Also a Ceylon breakfast blend tea, seventy degrees, two dashes of whole milk and two teaspoons of sugar." The replicator proceeded with the order and ten seconds later, two hot cups appeared on the servery dispenser. He carried the cups over to Burgeon and handed her the coffee.
"Thank you." she whispered, trying not to spill the full cup. McCann sat on the sofa next to her, blowing on his drink before he sipped it.
"A penny for your thoughts, Captain?" Burgeon probed, as McCann stared into his mug. He got up and stood next to the observation window. The view still captivated him after all these years.
"I was just thinking about the mass destruction on the planet below. You know, we've been here for nearly four days now and I still can't help but stare at the devastation on Diginic each time that I walk past a window or a view screen. What's also starting to drive me to distraction is what has happened to the other three vessels. They were three extremely capable and well-armed vessels, with some of the best commanders that Starfleet have and they've literally disappeared off the face of the galactic plain. I don't want that to happen to my people or anyone else in the squadron." He shrugged his shoulders and continued.
"Just last minute nerves, I guess."
Burgeon shook her head in disagreement.
"No it's not and you know it. Look, I've seen this in starship captains before. Everyday, we are continually pushing the envelope with our lives. Everyday. You can't dismiss those nerves. That means you're still in touch with reality. If you didn't have those feelings, then we would have to start panicking because you would be sending us on a one way ticket to hell."
"But I may still have to do that." he replied.
"Do what?" replied Burgeon.
"Send us on a one way ticket to hell." sighed McCann, taking another drink from his cup.
"Maybe. But at least we know that all other avenues of choice were followed first. Have you talked to Nicola about this?" answered Burgeon with another question. McCann nodded his head in reply.
"Yes. We have had this conversation last night. She said to me that not only would she follow me to the end but the rest of the crew would as well. I wasn't quite sure if that made me feel better of worse." Burgeon stood up off the sofa and strode over to the window, next to McCann and continued.
"You know that you can make the hard decisions. Look what happened on the Sydney when the bridge collapsed on top of us. The captain was trapped under the support railing, we had to get the rest of the crew off the bridge before the anti-containment system suffocated us and then we had to defend ourselves from the other two Gorn ships. You decided that the rest of the ship was worth more than the captain. To coin a phrase, the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few. Yes, he died on that bridge but you did your duty, without hesitation and the rest of us survived. If you didn't, not only would you have felt bad about it, they would have court martialled you as well, if we survived."
"Gee, thanks for bringing that up, Maddie." cracked McCann, trying to lighten the conversation.
"Well, it's true. You are one of the best starship commanders I have ever come across." assured Burgeon. He looked at the doctor, and they both smiled at each other.
"Thanks. I needed to hear that." She smiled a broader smile, and put the cup on his desk.
"No worries. By the way, Nicola was right what she told you last night." McCann frowned at her as she walked near the doorway.
"What's that?" She paused and looked at him, deadly serious as she walked out the door.
"We would all follow you to hell and to the death." McCann stared at the door as it closed, realising that not only did he work with a group of good friends but they were the most loyal crew a captain could ask for. His desktop computer beeped softly, advising him that a call was coming through. He drew a deep breath and touched the icon on the screen.
"McCann here." It was Mullins.
"Sorry to disturb you, Captain. Commander Phelps reports that the last shuttle has landed and is secured. We have also received a private message from Admiral Tarikaza's office." McCann sat down at the console, straightening his uniform.
"Send it through, Commander." he replied.
"Aye, sir. Mullins out." The view of Mullins gave way on the screen and was replaced by the oriental features of Rear Admiral Tarikaza. McCann bowed slightly at the flag officer.
"Good evening, sir."
"Good evening, Captain. I'll be brief as we are in the middle of something here. The Fleet Commander has asked me to contact you for any more information in regards to the planet surface." McCann called up his summary reports from the field base, and started his report.
"Yes, sir. We found several pieces of evidence, which somehow survived the surface bombardment. The pieces included two Cardassian infantry rifles, possibly belonging to the Bandoliers. The third piece was the remains of a Cardassian soldier. Unfortunately, the body was booby-trapped and we lost one of our surgeons. He tried to remove a triggering device, which caused a tertiary detonation. The Cardassian was rigged with prosthesis's that have been identified as Borg. They were removed eventually and have been confirmed to be working pieces. We believe that the devices are cannibalised Borg implants." McCann looked at the reaction of Tarikaza, and judging by the response it wasn't the answer he was looking for.
"So what you are saying Captain, is that the Cardassians have somehow been able to obtain and successfully use Borg technology?"
"Yes, sir. We are, however, unable to confirm if it is indeed Cardassians using this technology or someone trying to cause problems by using this equipment and framing the Cardassians." Tarikaza raised his hands in exasperation.
"Great, this is all we need. We are meeting the President this afternoon and asking him to raise the issue through diplomatic channels as soon as possible. The Domination task force will be arriving at the Tholian neutral zone in twelve hours for an intercept with the ship that buzzed the Idaho." McCann nodded his head in reply.
"The Vindicator has been following a vapour trail from here for the past several days and has come into contact with a suspect vessel. They're keeping the ship under observation at this stage. We are leaving here and going to assist them. Their Co-ordinates are six three seven, mark zero zero four, out near the Badlands. We're not going to get there for fifteen hours, but we're going to shake the ship apart to get there."
"Understood, Captain. The USS Belknap, a Quantum class science vessel is on the way with the USS Farragut, another Sovereign class cruiser. They won't arrive for another three days so I'll advise them not to meet up with you. Good luck with that vessel, Captain. Tarikaza out."
McCann switched the screen off and sat back in his chair. The pieces of the puzzle were going to be handed to someone else and he couldn't be happier. The mission objective for his group was to pursue offending vessels and neutralise the threat, which his crew enjoyed. He got out of his chair and walked over to the replicator to make himself another drink. The machine processed the order, which he retrieved and headed for the door to return to the bridge. As he approached the door, it slid open to reveal Mullins standing there. McCann raised his eyebrows at Mullins, who in turn was surprised to see McCann so close to the door.
"Were you eavesdropping?" asked McCann, half joking and knowing full well that all the rooms on the ship were sound proof.
"I was just going to ask the same question, sir." replied Mullins. He smiled and continued as they both entered the bridge.
"The marines are on board and we're about to depart."
"Very well. Mr. Robinson, please contact the USS Belknap. They're inbound in company with the Farragut to continue the investigation. They'll need access to all our Diginic files and tell them the domes on the surface are ours and not to lose them." smiled McCann. Yes indeed, he was glad to get away from this place. He turned to Leigh, standing behind her chair at the helm.
"Mr. Leigh, are we about to get under way?"
Leigh brought up the course settings for McCann to see.
"Yes, sir."
"Very well. Engage the course, maximum warp."
USS VINDICATOR - THE BADLANDS
Dalian Cracken wasn't enjoying his predicament one bit. Sneaking around wasn't his forte, especially when the offending vessel was practically in front of him. The Nemesis had contacted him, advising that they were on the way but they wouldn't be arriving for another eight hours from now. His crew was getting anxious, both from the waiting and the anticipation of the possible battle ahead. He turned to his X.O., Commander John Langley, who was accepting a hand over from his subordinate, Lieutenant Commander Welby. He walked up the concourse to Langley.
"Good morning, Commander. Nice day for it." Langley looked at Cracken in agreement.
"Aye, sir. I understand the rest of the squadron is meeting us here."
"Yes, finally. Once they get here, we can approach that ship and board it. Do we have any more information of the unknown yet?" Langley accessed his computer, bringing all the information onto his main console screen.
"Negative, sir. All we have is that it's still producing power consistent with a destroyer or outpost; appears to have no weapons powered up, and is slightly smaller than this vessel. It's definitely not Federation or any other known ship on our recognition charts. The shape of the vessel is conventionally designed - engineering section at the rear, command pods etcetera at the front but note how thin the ship is. I would estimate the interior of this vessel to be only a singular deck. One thing that concerns me are these barrel-shaped blisters here on the bow. I think they are sensors but the blisters here, further down the neck are weapon pods. Another item that is causing concern is amount of power is produces. It either packs a huge offensive punch or it's terribly inefficient. My money is the former." Cracken nodded his head as he drunk his Altarian Runth root tea, a sweet drink which nearly bordered on a religious experience for Altarians. The vapour that emitted from the drink was quite potent and tended to capture your attention.
"Did you actually sleep last night?" he asked.
"Yes, sir. I just have a good relief officer." Langley smiled in return.
"Very well. Have the torpedo room start loading the Quantum torpedoes and confirm with weapons that the ion particle beam will work this time." The particle beam was a weapon whose beam broke down whatever it touched down to the molecular level, using high amounts of neutron energy to eliminate solid matter. During a recent deployment on the Romulan border, the beam failed to engage at a crucial moment in an operation and nearly cost the ship and its crew their lives. A combat patrol from the Nemesis was the only thing that saved them. The weapons officer was ribbed mercilessly for the failure, even though the weapon didn't fail through negligence on his behalf. Cracken lips let a smile sneak through as he finished his drink. Suddenly, Langley spun around in his chair, a look in his eye that defied explanation.
"Sir. The vessel is moving." Cracken turned around to look at the main screen. Sure enough the unidentified ship, its steel grey hull glistening in the nearby star's light, moved off from the barren moon.
"Course?" demanded Cracken. Langley was silent for a second as he computed the ship's co-ordinates then spoke.
"Course reading is six seven seven, mark two two one. It's heading straight for the Badlands."
"Helm, plot a course to pursue." commanded Cracken. He looked over his shoulder to Lieutenant Sawyer.
"Get me the Nemesis."
USS NEMESIS - RIMWORLD SECTOR
The Nemesis and the Conqueror raced through space, preparing for confrontation. McCann and Mullins were hunched over the X.O.'s slave console, checking on the status of the ship. On the flight deck, personnel were dashing to and fro like ants in the desert, preparing not only the fighters but the marine's special purpose zero gee armour suits. These suits were used by the space-borne marines; specially trained troops used in open space situations, from defending the ship from space borne terrestrials to boarding hostile vessels. The suits are heavily armored; equipped with rocket backpacks, laser cutters, hull piercing grenade launchers and heavy-duty phasers. Robinson spun her chair to face McCann and Mullins.
"Sir, I'm receiving and an alert call from the Vindicator." McCann looked at Mullins with concern as Mullins ordered the message onto the main viewer. The screen changed from the streaked stars that raced past to the serious face of Dalian Cracken. His blue skin had changed to a deep purple, as the red alert lights on the bridge flooded the deck. He nodded his head in greeting.
"Good morning, Nemesis."
"Good morning, Vindicator. I believe you called?"
"Yes David. The unidentified vessel has moved off from its orbit, and is currently on a heading of six seven seven, mark two two one. We're pursuing, currently at warp nine point nine eight, and are still cloaked." McCann looked at Leigh and Brezhnev, who were busily computing the new Co-ordinates into the navigation computer. Brezhnev turned to McCann.
"New course laid in, Captain. Estimated time of arrival is nine hours, maximum warp."
McCann nodded his thanks and turned towards the screen.
"We're changing our course, Dalian. We should be there in nine hours. Hopefully they won't be able to maintain that speed forever so we can close in. Advise us if anything changes."
Cracken nodded his head again, and an evil smile grew over his face.
"Maybe. It depends if I let you play. Vindicator out."
The screen went blank, and then reverted to the streaked star field from before.
"Helm, change course to intercept the Vindicator, maximum warp." commanded McCann.
"Aye, sir." replied Leigh. McCann turned to Mullins and continued.
"Contact the flight deck. Advise them we're going head to head in nine hours."
"Aye, sir." Mullins smiled, relishing the thought of finally dealing with the enemy.
USS VINDICATOR - TELARE SECTOR
Eight hours of pursuit had left Dalian Cracken both short fused and annoyed. He knew that his ship was teetering on the edge of break down, the combination of running the cloaking device and travelling at maximum emergency speed was taking a toll on the engines. All this and they hadn't attempted to engage the alien ship ahead of them. Thankfully the unidentified ship had started to slow its break neck speed, allowing the Nemesis to close. He looked at his X.O., who resembled the devil hunched over the console, the bridge still flooded in red alert light.
"Is it slowing down yet?" asked Cracken.
"Negative, sir. Unfortunately. Still maintaining warp seven." replied Langley, shaking his head in disgust. Cracken spoke again.
"How far away is the Nemesis?"
"Ten minutes, present speed." advised Langley. Thank god, thought Cracken as the Vindicator groaned a bit more.
USS NEMESIS - TELARE SECTOR
The bridge of the Nemesis was bathed in the same hellish ambience as the decks of the Vindicator and the Conqueror. Crewmen moved with a sense of urgency, an urgency only produced by a group of people who were about to risk their lives in battle. Some of them completed console diagnostics, making sure that the equipment they were responsible for wouldn't fail in the heat of battle while others locked down unused devices and portable gear. On the flight deck, Commander Phelps was inspecting her bridge, the Combat Control Centre, or the 'C3' as it was fondly known. She sat down in her high backed chair and adjusted her micro earpiece; a device used to listen to the flight controllers, the pilots in space and also the bridge. From her chair she could observe the recovery and launching bays as well as the large screened tactical display. She watched the two lead fighters already strapped into their machines, helmets fastened ready for immediate launch. Her earpiece emitted a beep, advising her that someone was calling her.
"C3, Phelps." she answered. The responding voice was minute, but unmistakable.
"McCann here, Jane. All set to go?"
"Yes, sir. The pilots are ready for immediate launch."
"Very well. McCann out." She leaned forward and murmured, half to herself, half to the controllers below her; 'OK, let's bag ourselves some bad guys'.
In main engineering, Carey supervised the squaring away of the last of the loose engineering monitors in the refit workshops. Gravity fields were activated in the dilithium chambers and around the warp core, providing the engineering staff and the ship an extra seal of protection in the case of a hull breach. The sick bays were waiting for their first casualties and the torpedo rooms were busy loading and activating racks of various types of torpedoes in the launchers. McCann looked around the bridge, as the ready to go calls came onto the slave panel near his chair. He drew a breath of air, issuing the order that everyone had been waiting for.
"Mr. Robinson, contact the Vindicator, advise them to de-cloak and lock on a tractor beam to that vessel."
"Aye, sir." replied Robinson as she started to transmit the order.
"Helm, prepare to de-cloak. X.O., synchronize the de-cloak of the Conqueror."
USS VINDICATOR - TELARE SECTOR
Lieutenant Sawyer spun in his chair to face Cracken.
"Captain, we've received confirmation from the Nemesis to de-cloak and prepare for tractor lock."
Cracken looked above him, thanking the gods.
"Finally. Helm, de-cloak and stand by on tractor beam. Mr. Sawyer, contact that vessel and advise it to heave to and announce our intentions."
"Aye, sir." replied Chang and Sawyer in unison. Sawyer touched several icons on his screen and spoke into the console voice pick up with authority.
"Unidentified vessel. This is the Federation starship Vindicator, Captain Cracken in command. Stand down your engines and weapons and prepare to be boarded." The only response they received was static. Sawyer turned to his console and tried again as Cracken rose from his chair and walked to Langley's console.
"Well?" he asked.
"She's still running. It's going to be neat trick stopping her." Cracken nodded his head in agreement.
"Any response, Mr. Sawyer?"
"Negative, sir. I am trying on all frequencies and emergencies channels. I think they can hear us, but are refusing to reply." Cracken shrugged his shoulders.
"Fair enough. Mr. Chang, engage the tractor beam."
"Aye, sir." smiled the Asian officer as he activated the tractor beam. As the blue wedged shaped beam touched the alien ship, the Vindicator shook violently, then the Conqueror and the Nemesis de-cloaked next to them. Hopefully, the show of force would overwhelm the alien vessel and make them give up the fight. Cracken gripped the console railing near the rear of his chair, and shouted above the shaking of the ship.
"Reduce speed to warp four, Mr. Chang." his voice shaking in unison with the bridge.
"Aye, sir." responded Chang, pushing several buttons on the helm console. Langley's voice came over from behind Cracken at the rear of the bridge, his voice an octave higher than normal.
"Sir, the ship is powering up its weapons." Cracken barely hesitated the next order.
"Raise the shields now and prepare to fire at my command, engine section only." as he strode to his command chair.
"Shields are up, sir", replied Chang. The navigation and weapons officer, Lieutenant jg Graham Masters seated next to Chang added quickly.
"Phasers locked on target!"
"Fire.", ordered Cracken, as he held onto his chair. The blue wedged beam was joined now to by a thin red line that came from the lower saucer section of the Vindicator, touching what the targeting computer analysed to be the engineering section of the alien ship, slicing into its hull which caused several explosions. The beam stopped as Cracken ordered a ceasefire.
"Helm, slow to warp two. Let's see what happens now." added Cracken.
"Warp two, aye sir."
USS NEMESIS - TELARE SECTOR
McCann looked in disbelief as Takulac spoke from his station, next to Robinson's communications console, behind him.
"The alien vessel is powering up its weapons array. Vindicator is powering up its phasers and returning fire." McCann turned to Mullins, who was already anticipating the order.
"Launch the fighters!"
"Aye, sir. Bridge to C3."
"C3, Phelps." came the tiny voice.
"You have a 'go' for launch, Commander." ordered Mullins.
"Aye, sir." Jane replied, her voice letting the excitement slip into her voice. She switched off her communicator and spoke to one of her controllers, Ensign Wanda Piesse.
"Launch those birds, Ensign."
"Yes, sir." she replied. Two seconds later, the first brace of V-22 fighters leapt off the deck of the Nemesis into battle. Ten seconds later, a second and third pair launched and headed into the fray. The six fighters from VF-79 squadron, the 'Crusaders', raced from the Nemesis. The 'Crusaders' was a squadron steeped in tradition dating back over three hundred years, when the squadron was a army air squadron during Earth's World War Two serving out of England. On board the lead fighter, Commander Julian Carter, called his wingman, Lieutenant Peter McGrath.
"Are you with me, Pete?"
"On your seven, boss." he replied, settling his fighter onto the left, rear quarter of Carter's ship.
"Roger.", he replied. The four other fighters came along side Carter and McGrath, settling into a loose delta formation. The second brace contained Lieutenant Carlisle and Lieutenant Metcalfe. The last two fighters contained Lieutenant Warnock and Lieutenant Kingston. Carter looked back at the other fighters as they streaked towards the Vindicator and its captured prey.
"O.K. gentleman. Just a nice and easy flyby then if the offending ship hasn't taken the hint and heaved to, one burst to the engineering section only." The fighters were loaded with K-16 'Quantum' torpedoes, Starfleet's premier anti-starship torpedo. They were also armed with K-12's, a fighter borne missile with a smaller warhead used for precision targeting.
"Roger that, boss." replied Carlisle. Warnock double clicked his mike in acknowledgment.
"OK, let's have a bandit day." ordered Carter as they put the ships into a hard left turn to intercept the alien ship. Carter dialled up the intercept channel for the Nemesis and called the communications officer.
"Nemesis, this is Crusader one zero one. We're outbound, flight of six with an e.t.a. of zero three minutes." The voice of the communications officer from the Nemesis came through his helmet, loud and clear. Good, he thought, no comm. problems.
"Roger, one zero one. Nemesis on stand by." The channel went silent as he brought his fighter to military speed, towards confrontation.
USS VINDICATOR - TELARE III
Cracken leaned forward in his chair, anxiously watching the main view screen. The six fighters from the Nemesis raced into the picture towards the alien ship that was held by the tractor beam from the Vindicator. The Nemesis pulled along side into the distance while the Conqueror came between the Nemesis and the Vindicator, providing a physical shield from the alien ship. Langley scrutinised his console, trying to obtain an accurate analysis of the alien ship's capabilities.
"It appears the ship is losing power. The weapons systems appear to be still powered, but are not targeting any particular object. The phaser shot appears to have disabled or destroyed some sort of device inside because we can now obtain life form readings."
"How many inside?" asked Cracken, still staring at the screen.
"Approximately thirty. I can not detect any mines or sabotage devices." replied Langley, still manipulating his equipment.
"OK. Contact the Nemesis. Advise them we'll come to a full stop so that the marine teams can board the ship and to stand down the fighters. Well done people, we can chalk another ship onto the tally board."
"Yes, sir." replied Sawyer, as the bridge crew and probably the whole ship broke out into a smile and relieved laughter at a job well done.
USS NEMESIS - TELARE III
Colonel Perry Davis walked down the passageway of deck thirteen, which contained the main marine staging dock. The staging deck was connected via large cargo lifts, making movement between the staging and launching areas on to the main flight deck easier. Inside the staging area two platoons from the 27th regiment, numbering approximately sixty marines were preparing their equipment to perform a force entry on the alien vessel. The officer in charge of the two platoons, Captain's Johnson and Kelly were speaking to the officer in charge of the 27th regiment, Major Geoff Cusack. The three officers, noticing Davis approach came to attention and saluted him crisply. Cusack spoke first.
"Good afternoon, Colonel." Davis returned the salute before speaking.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen. Are you ready to chew on some Cardassian tail?"
"Yes, sir." replied Cusack. "We're able to beam into the ship direct as there are no defensive shields in place. The thirty life forms on board have been confirmed as Cardassian. We'll perform a simultaneous beam in onto the bridge and the engine room." Davis nodded his head and as he observed a pair of helmeted marines check their rifles.
"I noticed that you're using full environ gear?" queried Davis.
"Yes, sir. We believe that they may try to evacuate the atmosphere in the ship. It's happened before. Since they've used implants to facilitate and enhance their weapons they may also have implants designed to survive in an oxygen depleted environment." replied Johnson. Davis nodded his head in agreement as he surveyed the deck.
"I assume that you've liaised with Major Mackenzie?"
"Yes, sir. She has been most helpful." smiled Kelly.
"No doubt. I'll buzz you from the bridge when we're ready to beam you in.", concluded Davis as he saluted the three sub-ordinates.
"Aye aye, sir." they answered and returned the salute. Davis turned and headed for the lifts. As he entered the lift, he noticed Major Mackenzie and Commander Mullins already inside.
"Good afternoon Commander, Major." he nodded. Mackenzie saluted her senior officer, but Mullins who was on even ranking but in a different branch of the service to the Colonel, nodded a greeting and stood next to him.
"All ready to go, Perry?"
"Yes, thank goodness. Sixty marines should be enough to take over the ship. Apparently there are Cardassians on board."
"Yes. It certainly scuttled the Captain's idea." replied Mullins as he raised his eyebrows. "He was under the impression that someone was playing with us by planting suspect evidence at the scene." As the lift slowed and opened onto the bridge, Mullins noticed that the fevered activity had calmed down considerably since the alien ship was stopped. The six fighters had been recalled and the Conqueror was in the process of taking over picket duties that the Vindicator had been performing, so that the Vindicator could start repairs without the added burden of holding the alien ship. McCann turned around and motioned for the three officers to approach the centre chair. They walked down the left-hand access ramp to the command area. Mullins sat down in his chair next to McCann's, who in turn motioned to the other two remaining chairs for Mackenzie & Perry to sit on.
"The troops ready?" asked McCann. Davis nodded his head.
"Yes, sir. Major Mackenzie has briefed the senior mission officers and they are aware of possible problems."
"Very good." commented McCann, pleased with the results obtained so far. Mullins touched his screen twice then turned to McCann.
"Conqueror has control of the alien ship. The Vindicator has pulled away to start a minor overhaul on the warp core. Major Cusack's team is also ready to board the ship, awaiting permission."
"Thank you, X.O. Commander Robinson, contact the alien ship. Advise them we're boarding."
"Aye, sir." replied Robinson, activating her consoles. She frowned for a moment, and then slowly turned in her chair.
"Captain, I wasn't completely expecting this but I've received a visual response." McCann returned her surprised look with one of his own. The first contact he expected to have with the occupants of the ship was in the brig of the Nemesis, not inter ship just as the marines are about to breach the airlocks. Mullins looked at him also, clearly as surprised as he was. McCann drew in a breath then replied, as he sat down.
"On screen, Commander." The screen changed from the vision of the captured ship to a face he wasn't expecting. He had seen over the period of his career, a fair share of arrogant invaders and wannabe conquerors, even the hideous face of the Borg. But instead of lizard like features of a Cardassian warrior, he saw the pale, ashen white skinned humanoid dressed in normal clothes, albeit imperialistic in style and cut. He had long white hair, thin build and a pair of evil red eyes that seemed to glow and burn through the screen. McCann returned the stare that the alien commander gave him, daring the man to turn away before he did. The person spoke, the universal translator circuits processing the dialogue.
"Who are you and how dare you seize and attack my ship." he demanded, his voice resonating through the translator. McCann struggled with his inner self to restrain the smirk on his face, but he let the contempt and sarcasm bite through.
"One could easily ask the same question of you, sir. Your vessel has been followed for several days; the vapour trail from your ship puts you at the scene of the destruction of one of our member worlds. I suggest that you start answering some questions before I lay waste to that tin can you call a starship." The alien commander smiled at McCann then settled back into his chair.
"Your mettle is commendable, if somewhat arrogant. I am Jikta, commander in the Imperial Doramian Fleet and captain of this vessel, the Thaxtere." he announced as he bowed his head slightly. McCann raised his head slightly, continuing the role of arrogance.
"My arrogance comes from taking apart beings a lot tougher that you, Jikta. My name is Captain David McCann, commanding officer of the USS Nemesis, and squadron leader of these three starships. You and your crew can consider yourselves under arrest. We demand entry to your vessel to search and seize evidence for crimes against the Federation. What is your response?" Jikta paused for a moment as if summoning an inner strength.
"I don't appear to have a choice do I, Captain?"
"Quite frankly Commander, you don't. Stand by for instructions." McCann turned to Robinson and motioned with his hand to terminate the transmission. He drew another breath, feeling a quality headache brewing.
"Who on earth is that?" blurted Mullins.
"They are Doramian, a very military and militant race. They were only rumoured to exist though some intelligence reports from Romulus. The only problem is that for them to get to us, they need to go through the heart of Romulan space. Very unusual to say the least." commented Mackenzie.
"All right. I want all senior officers in the ready room in five minutes. Colonel Davis, monitor the boarding closely and make sure they aren't compromised. If necessary, use of force is authorised. Mr. Robinson, wake up the Admiralty and get them as well as Cracken and Risan for a secured conference in the ready room."
"Aye, sir." acknowledged Robinson.
"Mr. Tabulak, I understand you're the O.O.D.?"
"Yes, sir." he replied.
"Very well. The bridge is yours." McCann replied as he strode into the ready room, as the others were replaced by their sub-ordinate staff and followed suit. As McCann sat in his chair in the ready room, he felt some of the tension drain from his shoulders. Leigh entered the room and sat down next to him. She rubbed his arm while he stroked both his temples.
"You look tired." she whispered.
"I am, but aren't we all. Got a huge headache also." he replied in hushed tones. She stopped rubbing his arm, and let her own arm drop onto her lap.
"You can say that again," she said honestly. The others sat down at the table with their beverages they ordered from the replicator and Mullins put a cup of Rigellian coffee in front of his captain, its exotic brew permeating through the room. McCann nodded his head in silent thanks as the main viewer came alive with the face of the Lieutenant Rippler staring at them.
"Yes, Lieutenant?" asked McCann.
"Sir, I have Captains Cracken and Risan on the split screen now for you, and Admiral Tarikaza is answering his hail."
"Thank you, Lieutenant. Put them through now please." said McCann as he motioned with his hand for his staff to pay attention. Just as his hand lowered to the table, the vision of Admiral Tarikaza and Admiral Cleave filled the screen. In the corner were the faces of Captain Risan and Captain Cracken.
"Good evening, Admiral." started McCann.
"Good evening, Captain. What's your status?" asked Tarikaza, as Cleave sat forward in his chair.
"Sir, at approximately 2120 hours the 1st pursuit squadron stopped and detained an unknown vessel near the perimeter to the Badlands at a planet called Telare III, for breaching Federation borders and possible mass genocide after following its vapour trail from Diginic. The vessel was tractored by the USS Vindicator, which was summarily called to defend itself when a weapons build up was detected. One phaser shot was fired at its engine section, crippling the vessel." As McCann spoke, Rippler was supplying the Admiralty with recorded footage from the computer of the weapons exchange and containment. Tarikaza nodded his head, motioning for McCann to continue.
"The commander of the vessel is Doramian, a humanoid species from the far side of the Romulan Empire. The name of the vessel is the Thaxtere. The marines are about to board the vessel and transfer its captain and crew to the brig on the Conqueror and the Nemesis. Engineers and computer technicians will beam over to start the investigation. The Vindicator has had a rough time pursuing the Thaxtere; they have taken the main engines off line and will be performing an overhaul for the next twenty four hours." Tarikaza nodded his head, taking in the report.
"Your group has done well, Captain. Once the Thaxtere crew is secured, try to ply some more information from the captain. If anything of importance comes up, let us know. Tarikaza out."
"Yes, sir. Nemesis out." finalised McCann. The screen faded, and returned to the tactical display of the barren moon, and its surrounding ships. The faces of Cracken and Risan remained, as McCann took another sip from his drink and began the meeting.
"OK people. Things have developed since yesterday which you will need to know. We now know that the occupants of the vessel are not Cardassian but are Doramian, a race of humanoids from the far side of the Romulan Empire. They are very war like and cock sure to say the least. Why the biological scan gave a Cardassian reading, we aren't sure, but that's life. The Thaxtere crew will be transferred to the Conqueror who will tow the ship back to Earth for the intelligence guys to pull apart. At this stage of the game, we could be back at the Jupiter yards in approximately three days." The officers in the ready room cheered in response. McCann broke into a grin also. The crew deserved the break and in three days time, he was going to make sure they received it. Once the cheering subsided, McCann noticed that the desk communicator was beeping. McCann pressed his screen and the face of Colonel Davis looked at them stoically.
"Yes Colonel?" he replied to the page.
"Sir, the boarding crews have just made contact from the Thaxtere. I think you had better come see this footage sir, it's quite disturbing." McCann looked at Mullins, then at Leigh. The way that Davis spoke sent it a shiver down his spine. The experienced marine was rarely disturbed by anything that he saw, which put a more urgent pace into McCann's steps as he exited the ready room with the other bridge officers in tow. He looked at the main viewer, and was stunned. Attached to the ceiling of the bridge of the Traxtere, were the barely alive bodies of several Cardassian soldiers. As the others diverted their gaze to the screen, he could hear Leigh struggle to keep her composure, and Dana blatantly turned her head away from the screen.
"What the hell is that, Colonel." demanded McCann.
"According to Captain Kelly, the Doramians have literally bolted these barely alive Cardassian soldiers to the roof of the ship. Two of them are attached to life support machines, but the rest of them are alive by their own means."
"I have seen some weird things done by Borg or the Klingons, but this truly takes the cake." stammered Mullins, clearly shocked and getting pale.
"Have the crew been removed?" asked McCann.
"Yes, sir. I took the liberty of contacting Commander Burgeon, and she is preparing a team to transport over now."
"Good. Is that Jikta in the brig yet?" asked McCann as he walked up the catwalk towards the turbo lift, his mood darkening with every step.
"Yes, sir." replied Davis.
"Good. X.O., you have the con. I'll be in the brig." stated McCann, as the doors to the lift closed behind him.
"Aye, sir." replied Mullins to the closed doors. He turned to Leigh, who had replaced her relief officer at the helm.
"I'm glad I'm not him," said Leigh. checking her display. Mullins nodded his head still looking at the closed door. He started to walk up the catwalk, in the same direction that McCann took.
"I agree. Commander Leigh, you have the con. I'll be heading to the brig.", said Mullins as he walked into the turbo lift, only marginally slower than what McCann had done.
As McCann stormed out of the lift, his brisk walk made the crews that were on the deck move aside, as if Moses was parting the sea. As he entered the main brig, the duty lieutenant stood to attention.
"Good afternoon, sir." he said.
"Which cell is the prisoner Jikta in.", McCann demanded.
"Cell four, sir. On the left hand side." replied the guard, taken aback by McCann's abruptness.
"Thank you, Lieutenant. That will be all." McCann marched down the access ramp towards the sunken cellblock. He stopped at cell four, to see Jikta lying on one of the bunks. McCann manipulated the control panel to lower the force field that guarded each cell. As he entered the room, the force field re-engaged. Jikta rose slowly from his bunk, staring at McCann as he moved. McCann held his stare, feeling his rage boil through his body.
"Yes, Captain. You seem to have something on your mind?" asked Jikta innocently. McCann forced his clenched fists open, forcing himself to some self-control.
"I must admit that I have seen some exceptionally violent acts during my career, some borne out of desperation, others by blind rage, but what I have seen; Cardassian soldiers literally bolted to the ceiling of your vessel borders on an act of barbarism." Jikta smiled at him, rising from the bunk towards the edge of the force field, looking out at the hallway. McCann continued.
"I also have to admit to having absolutely no love at all for the Cardassians but no sentient being should be subjected to that form of torture." Jikta turned to McCann, a cold calculating look spreading over his face.
"They are mere casualties of war. The fact that it turns you off your evening meal doesn't bother me in the slightest. You should be more concerned with what is going to happen to you, a lot sooner that you realise. You think that you have captured the ship that destroyed that feeble planet you call Diginic? Well, I hate to tell you but you are sadly mistaken. There is an entire fleet waiting on the other side of the galaxy coming to your pitiful Federation. Not in peace, but to destroy you. We started with Diginic and we'll finish at Earth." McCann looked at Jikta coldly, the desire to relieve the alien of his throat with his bare hands almost became too much to bear. As he turned away, he heard the click of boots and noticed Mullins standing next to the cell.
"Get me the hell out of here, Reed." growled McCann. Mullins caught the attention of the guard on duty who immediately disengaged the force field. McCann moved out of the cell and the field re engaged. Jikta moved to the extreme edge of the force field, getting as close to McCann as he could. He smiled, and then returned to his bunk, ignoring the two officers. McCann walked out of the brig with Mullins close behind him, not knowing or understanding what was going on. Mullins stopped next to McCann, griping his arm to stop him.
"David, what happened in there?" he asked, the concern in his voice rising to fever pitch. McCann turned to him, an ashen look spreading on his face, his voice low and gravely.
"Jikta has just told me that his ship wasn't responsible for the destruction of Diginic. He has stated that a whole fleet of vessels are waiting to strike into the heart of Federation space." On this news, Mullins's jaw dropped, the blood draining from his face. He looked to the floor in disbelief, not wanting to believe the words that McCann had spoken.
"Do you believe him?" he stammered.
"It's hard not to. He was too cocky to be bragging. We need to contact the Admiralty immediately." replied McCann, heading once for the turbo lift. Mullins followed him into the lift and they both headed to the bridge. They stood in silence as the lift accelerated upwards, both of their minds in turmoil, planning and trying to comprehend what was happening. As the lift delivered them onto the bridge, McCann turned to Robinson, who was in the process of relaying intelligence information to the central computer from technicians who had boarded the Thaxtere.
"Mr. Robinson, contact the Admiralty on emergency channel. Make sure it's secured and patch it through to the ready room." ordered McCann, walking straight through to the ready room with Mullins in tow. Leigh pivoted in the command chair and looked at Robinson, who raised her eyebrows.
"I wonder what that's all about." Leigh turned to face the view screen.
"No idea, but I don't think it's going to be nice."