Worker72: Without Shadow backup, the Centauri would have difficulties against the Narn. However, over the decades, entire fleets had been mothballed by the Centauri Royal Admiralty and Court. Reactivate them and the Narn would have problems...

The Romulans on the Raptor are trying to get into the Sol System without being shot down. We'll see if they survive this long...

Sati James: Yes good stories take long to write especially when you have two different stories to write and to balance the time for it with real life. I'm thinking of holding on to "Shadows and Dust in the Pattern" for later and focus on "Clash of Federations".

Onto the story! Enjoy!


Minbari Grey Council Command Ship Valen'tha

Delenn, in a gray robe, entered the Council Chamber which was now dark with only a single column of light. When she was standing in the pillar of light, she waved a hand towards the darkness and the darkness was replaced by a field of stars. A sun shone, made small-looking by the far distance.

Twelve stars flashed in a mini-nova effect and twelve ships colored in varying shades of red arrived in the system. Four of them looked sturdy, colored a rustic red, thick-armored and each had a blue-glowing ring held inside another ring as part of the main body. Two were also rustic red, but they appeared to be slender needles thrust through a thick ring. One vessel, cocooned in the center of the fleet, was exactly like the ship that they encountered at Epsilon 5. A bright red slender needle thrust through three interlocking rings.

Delenn wondered if it was the same ship, the one called Shirasna.

The remaining five vessels were the color of dried blood, dark red. Those didn't have rings, but their sides flared outward at the back to create blue-glowing engine exhausts that curved around the arrow-shaped body. They appeared to be capable of higher speeds than their larger colleagues. A word came into her mind to describe them.

Dartships.

Delenn watched as a jumppoint opened in front of the Vulcan fleet and a Centauri Primus-class battlecruiser appeared.

The circular door that served as the entrance to the Council Chamber opened, rolling like a stone at the entrance of a tomb. Coplann entered.

"Interesting, are they not, Satai Delenn?"

Delenn gave a small bow that acknowledged the age seniority of her fellow Councilor. "Satai Coplann. Yes, they are interesting. They are also unknown. We have been a spacefaring race for over a thousand years, yet we know nothing about this race. We have heard rumors of the humans before meeting them. This time, rumors did not prepare us when the Vulcans confronted us at Epsilon 5. It is as if they came out of nowhere."

Coplann studied the holodisplay of the Vulcan fleet facing the single Centauri battlecruiser. "We have stood and held our places of power while empires came and went over the centuries since the last great war. They are not different. The Garmak Empire and the Wen'Dan Hordes once appeared to us similarly. They challenged us and we met the challenge. Garmak is now a subject world of the Centauri Republic. The Wen'Dan…." Coplann shrugged dismissively. "They never appeared again."

Delenn nodded and continued to study the Vulcan ships. In spite of their very alien nature, they had…a strange elegance, if a bit frightening. "I…doubt they will…be gone like the Wen'Dan and the Garmaks. They appear to be sending embassies to key worlds throughout Known Space. Yet, we still do not know their origin."

Coplann appeared dismissive. "We will learn of their origin. Then we will teach them to return home. Teach them as we taught the Streibs. As far as we know, they have been appearing out of the Earthers' home system. Perhaps it is a condition of their agreement and secrecy. We will learn." He turned back to the image. The Centauri battlecruiser was now opening a jumppoint, turning around to enter it. His voice sounded once more, this time full of curiosity.

"I wonder what they are doing there in Centauri space. Reports tell us that the alien embassies have so far consisted of only one ship with two or more escorts. Why such a wastefully large fleet?"

Delenn watched as the Vulcan fleet began to move forward once more. "The Rangers report that they are attempting a solution for the Narn-Centauri crisis."

Coplann's face darkened. The aliens were interfering too much in local affairs. Soon, that will be corrected. Other things needed to be corrected. The Rangers, for example. "The Rangers…?"

Delenn gestured at the holodisplay. "This is the last recording received from one of their long-range ships."

"The last…?"

As an answer, she pointed at the holodisplay for him to watch. One of the Vulcan dartships separated itself from the fleet and moved towards Delenn and Coplann at an impossibly high speed. Bursts of energy flew from under the chamber floor and splashed against the dartship's force shields. Green beams lashed out from the red dartship straight at the two Councilors and the holodisplay deactivated.

Coplann continued to look at the darkness for a few seconds before turning to Delenn. Even the Rangers' sensor stealth has been defeated by the Vulcans! He took a deep breath. "Perhaps you are right, Satai Delenn. We must remedy the problem of our lack of knowledge concerning these particular aliens."

Hope blossomed in Delenn. "We will open communications with them?"

"We will…lure one of the alien ships, capture it for study." Coplann turned away to exit the Council Chamber as Delenn stared back, open-mouthed. Was there really no way to prevent this war from spiraling out of control and swallow more people?

UES Columbia, enroute to Procyon V

Captain's Starlog, February 2157: Admiral Gardner at Starfleet Command has ordered us to transport two Earth Alliance fighters, called starfuries, to Vulcan Space Central for study and upgrading by Major Talok. Lieutenant Jeffrey Sinclair has volunteered to come along as the EarthForce liaison. We will be stopping at the Vulcan colony on Procyon V to offload survivors of the Romulan attack on Qualor II.

Jeff Sinclair stepped through an opening door and he saw that Captain Erika Hernandez and Commander Charles Trip Tucker III were already sitting at the table in the Captain's Mess.

"Uh…sorry. I'm still not used to this ship."

Erika smiled welcomingly. "I understand. Come on in. The food's still hot."

Sinclair was relieved. He had noticed that the human military in this universe weren't as much a stickler for protocols and discipline as EarthForce. He had been surprised when Erika told him that Starfleet was not officially the military force for United Earth. She said that it was actually a civilian organization like NASA, albeit armed. Perhaps that was why every Starfleet vessel now had a whole squadron of MACOs for this war.

Trip smiled as Sinclair sat at the table. The Columbia's chief engineer took a sip of orange juice. "Settled in good?"

Sinclair had to restrain his own eagerness as he spooned food onto his plate. "You kidding? We never get real food out in space. We get synthetics or freeze-drieds at most. Real food is very expensive except on planets where you can raise the food easily. It's amazing you have this much real food on your ships!"

Trip chuckled. He forked a piece of meat and held it up for himself and Sinclair to look at. "We've come a long way, believe me. If it weren't for the Vulcans, we'd still be stuck on Earth, hauled into those nasty courts of the Post-Atomic Horror. Or worse." Trip was thinking about how the non-existence of Starfleet would have allowed the Xindi to send their planetkiller against Earth. He shuddered at the thought.

Sinclair nodded as he relished the taste of real orange juice. The stuff of the super-rich, of governors and politically well-connected people on Mars and other colonies that were not terracompatible or "class-M" as these people called it. He sighed as he thought of those colonies. If the new alliance with Starfleet didn't work, the Earth colonies, ships and stations wouldn't know the pleasure of real food, even if produced by those amazing protein resequencers. "All we have to do is keep the Minbari from destroying us. And the Romulans from destroying you, of course."

"Speaking of that," Erika said, picking up a datapad from the table and handing it to Sinclair. "We have been studying our Vulcan database very thoroughly. We have found something that might help both of us in our wars."

Sinclair looked at the datapad. "The planet Minos."

Captain Erika Hernandez glanced at Tucker nervously. The information about Minos in the Vulcan database didn't comfort her but they needed all the help they could get. "The Minosians call themselves the…'Arsenal of Freedom'"

Sinclair's lips twisted in distaste. "Gunrunners."

The captain took a breath. "Yes…. They do sell weapons. Advanced weapons. After we're finished with Vulcan Space Central, we can go there. It's far, but the advanced weapons we buy can be retro-engineered for both Starfleet and EarthForce."

Sinclair silently ate his food as he thought. EarthForce was doing all it could do to slow the Minbari advance. Starfleet was doing the same against the Romulans. Neither Earths could afford to start pulling many ships away from the fronts to help each other, but they must do it if both were to survive, even to win the wars.

If the weapons they could buy from this…"Arsenal of Freedom" make the mutual help easier, then both Earths would indeed be able to buy their freedom from war. His sense of ethics rebelled against that.

Sinclair swallowed his food and said, "I doubt we would need the Minosians."

Trip and Erika looked at each other. The chief engineer then peered closely at Sinclair. "How so?"

"I have to believe we can win both wars. I have to. If I didn't, I wouldn't be able to climb into the cockpit of my starfury."

Erika leaned forward, having stopped eating. "Beliefs won't keep the Romulans or Minbari from killing our people."

"Humanity will survive. At least my humanity."

Trip arched an eyebrow good-humoredly at that. "Have you been talking with Admiral Gardner? Not that I don't believe we will survive…."

Sinclair put down his fork and knife, and stared at his plate of food. "I…cannot…accept that everything humanity has accomplished, that everything we've aspired to, will simply come to an end. To be destroyed by a superior race just because they can. There has to be more to them, and more to us, than that." He turned to look out the window at the warp-illusion of stars sweeping by the Earth starship. "I've studied other races in my universe. The Vree, Abbai, Brakiri, Centauri, Narn, many others. Charted their progress. For almost every single one, their development has been far, far slower than ours. It's as if we're rushing, or even being rushed. As if we're intended for some great purpose that's coming sooner than we think."

Trip nodded. "He has a point there, Captain. I mean, look at the Vulcans and the Andorians. Both have been warp capable for much longer than us. The Tellarites have been in space for longer than we have before they found warp technology. We are catching up to them pretty fast. Hell, we scared the old Vulcan High Command into trying to hold us back, remember?"

"To say nothing of the attention we've been getting," said Erika. "The Klingons, the Sphere-Builders and the Xindi, and now the Romulans."

"Don't forget the factions involved in the Temporal Cold War."

It was Sinclair's turn to peer at Trip closely. Temporal Cold War? That didn't sound very appetizing. "Right…. Both humanities, it seems, have a destiny. I feel it. In my soul right here."

A faraway look came into Trip's eyes. "Now we don't know much about the future, but my old captain told me we're supposed to found a federation of planets in the near future and—"

A whistle sounded. "Captain Hernandez."

The starship captain pushed back her chair and leaned over to touch the companel on a wall. "Yes?"

"We're entering the Procyon System. We are being scanned by Vulcan sentries."

Erika winced. It meant transporting the nuclear attack survivors down to the medical facilities of the Vulcan colony. "Acknowledged." She stood up and gave Jeff Sinclair a reassuring smile. "Duty calls, lieutenant. Enjoy your lunch."

Andorian Imperial Warship Tamar

Captain Shran woke to a shrill noise, gasping.

Shran sighed, relieved. It was only the intercom signaling for his attention. He reached out from his bed to tap at the intercom.

"Captain Shran?"

The Andorian captain recognized the voice. "Commander Tholos."

"Sensors are picking up a vessel at long-range. We're not sure, but the records we got from the pinkskins say it's Minbari."

Shran quickly got up from his bed, his antennae stood rigid and quivering in excitement. It was time!

xxxxxxxxx

Shran strode into the bridge of the new Andorian warship. Glancing around at the bridge, he was satisfied to see the crew working efficiently. Commander Tholos was standing in the center with hands clasped at the back, studying the main viewer. One of his antennae swung towards Shran, letting him know that the commander acknowledged his presence.

The main viewer was showing an oblong cerulean blue vessel slowing skirting along the edge of a multi-colored nebula, fish-like fins flaring from its rear. Tholos stepped back to beside the command chair as Shran sat in it. "Huh. We don't exist in this universe, but these aliens managed to use our skin color for their ship hulls. Lieutenant Tarah, what armaments do they have?"

The Andorian woman spoke from where she stood at her station. "Minimal weapons. One neutron cannon. It's not a warship. I believe it is a transport. Or a science vessel."

Shran's antennae curved forward at the main viewer with interest. Tholos leaned to speak to the captain from the side. "It's ideal for our mission."

The captain nodded, although distaste simmered in the back of his mind. "The Imperial Command will appreciate our capture and interrogation of these Minbari…properly." Making his decision, he gestured at Commander Tholos who then stepped forward to give the orders.

"Lieutenant Tarah, arm particle cannons. Lieutenant Thon, increase speed to maximum warp then drop to one quarter impulse when we arrive at the Minbari vessel. Ready tractor beam. Commander Keval, prepare your boarding teams at the transporters."

Keval curtly saluted before he left the bridge.

Shran sat back as the Andorian warship warped to the Minbari transport. If the mission was this easy, they might be able to harvest some unknown technology for use against the Romulans. It would be nice if they figured out how the Minbari were able to make accurate pinpoint jumps. Such a technology would enable the Imperial Guard to jump safely into the Gamma Virginis System, surprise and destroy the damnable Romulans and recover Pvarto Colony. All without worrying about jumping out straight into the heart of a sun or planet.

Thon, at the helm, soon called out, "Coming up at the transport. Dropping to one quarter impulse."

"Locking particle cannons," reported Tarah as the Tamar came about for the optimal position and began to emit the tractor beam at the Minbari transport. "The Minbari are trying to transmit a distress signal over tachyon."

"Captain!" yelled Thon. "Subspace distortion forming astern!"

Blue-white light appeared to pierce through the fabric of space, quickly transforming into the blue vortex of an exit jumppoint. What emerged looked like a giant aqua-blue ribbed angelfish, frowning at the impertinent little Andorian warship. Emerald beams lashed out from the Minbari warcruiser. Once, twice, thrice, four times.

Tholos joined Tarah in tumbling around the bridge of the Tamar as the Minbari neutron beams struck at the Andorian shields, the massive power behind them allowing the kinetic shock to roughly plow through to the engines and hull. The tractor beam winked out, leaving the Minbari transport free. The light in the ship flickered as sparks blew from energy conduits.

Shran struggled hard to keep himself in his seat. "Report!"

Thon screamed out, "Primary systems hit! Primary reactors are down! Shields are buckling!"

Captain Shran twisted to squint through the smoke. Lieutenant Tarah appeared out of it, picking herself up to attend to her station. "Tarah! Launch the drones!"

The Andorian woman frantically fingered her console, then finally hitting it with her fists in frustration. "The drone rack is damaged!"

The warship rocked once more as the Minbari warcruiser came about for another strafing shot. The Andorians were just one already damaged ship against an admittedly powerful Minbari warcruiser. It was time for the better part of valor, as the pinkskins would say.

"Full power to impulse engines!" Shran pointed at the nebula. "Take us in there!"

The Andorian warship turned about and fled into the opalescent nebula, her shields glowing as the nebular particles hit them. The Sharlin-class warcruiser managed one more shot before they were forced to stop before entering it. Its crew knew that their scanners would be blinded by the nebula.

Once the smoke cleared, Shran was relieved to see that Commander Tholos was still alive. The second helmsman, however, was dead, painting his console with his blue blood.

Thon made sure that the Tamar was stationary deep inside the nebula, then summoned the ship's physician.

Shran stood up, glaring at the main viewer, imagining particle beams and weapon drones ripping the huge alien warcruiser to pieces. His antennae were nearly flat against his white hair in rage. His voice's calm was forced. "Order the repair teams to focus on the drone rack and the warp engines."

Tholos saluted and ran out of the bridge.

Shran glanced down at the slumped form of the second helmsman. He reached down to the side of his command chair, opened a tiny cabinet built inside and took out a tiny glass vial. With it, he went over the helm console and scooped up some of the spilt blue blood. "Tha'acal. The first Andorian to die in this universe. The first to be killed by the Minbari. Your blood shall be poured on the Wall of Heroes on Andoria. The Andorian Imperial Guard will avenge you!"

Vulcan

Tobin Dax gazed with wonder across the Fire Plains at the huge red carnelian statues of ancient Vulcan priests.

"Wow…this is nothing like the Tenaran Ice Cliffs on Trill!"

Skon impassively studied how the light shone and glittered in the carnelian stone of the statues. "I have not traveled to Trill. It is the planet that the humans call Trillius Prime, is it not?"

Tobin nodded. For once, he felt comfortable. Vulcans suppress their emotions and they wouldn't take offense at bad habits the way humans do as long as he respected the Vulcan ways. Or look at his inept social skills with contempt. "I remember one Vulcan visiting my homeworld. T'Pau. I remember T'Pau visiting the Trill parliament and convincing me that isolationism is detrimental to Trill development."

Skon arched an eyebrow. "I was not aware that you were a Legislator. I assume that was before T'Pau became active in the Syrrannite Movement. Many years ago. Were you not rather young to be a council member?"

"I…uhh…I…." Tobin widened his eyes and kicked himself. That memory was from the Dax symbiont. The legislator that T'Pau convinced was Dax's previous and first host Lela. He had inadvertently spilled a secret of the Trill people to an alien! Skon may be a good friend, but he's still an alien, a non-Trill. Oh what the Symbiosis Commission would do to punish him? He mentally kicked himself again. "I…I meant I was in the viewing gallery of the parliament when T'Pau spoke there."

Skon arched an eyebrow again. Tobin Dax mentally kicked himself again, this time for lying to such a good friend.

"Dax, perhaps we can go to the city of Raal. There is a conference for expatriates there."

Tobin Dax relaxed, relieved that Skon didn't pursue his apparent lie.

xxxxxxxx

Tobin Dax breathed deeply in the cool salty breezes from the Voroth Sea beside which Vulcan's Raal Province was, appreciating the coolness he had been looking for on Vulcan. The breath caused the memory of Trill's purple seas to flicker to life in his mind.

The breeze also allowed him to forget the almost cramped feeling of the crowd in the open-air columned forum of Raal City.

"Tobin Dax?"

Tobin jumped and turned around. He began to open and close his mouth at the person in front of him. The humanoid was clearly a woman, judging by the elaborate jet-black hairstyle, the feminine curves on the face, chest and body. Her skin was almost grey, and she had thick neck ridges running from her shoulder up into her hair. More ridges framed her forehead and made her eyes appear deep-set, and an inverted teardrop-shaped ridge was set in the middle of the forehead.

"Oh! Sorry. Ummm…yes?" Tobin couldn't help staring at the reptilian-seeming alien woman.

The alien woman smiled. The smile didn't make her look less intimidating to the Trill. "I understand you are an engineer on the Heisenberg. Skon over there told me of its escape from the Romulans. Impressive."

Tobin ducked his head, facing the daunting task of socialization by withdrawing into himself and letting instincts take over. He began to nervously bite his fingernails. "Yes, ma'am…. Sorry…it was in the Gamma Virginis System."

The alien woman chuckled, seemingly unaware of Tobin's nervous habit. Perhaps she dismissed it as a quirk of his alien race. "It's delightfully hot on Vulcan, isn't it? Too bad the sun's so dreadfully bright and there's no humidity in the air. Except for the temperature, it's nothing like Cardassia Prime."

Tobin dropped his mouth open. A Cardassian! He'd heard of Cardassians. They had begun to explore beyond their system only a few years before. He never thought he would meet one this far on Vulcan.

He swallowed, moistening his mouth. He felt the mangled splinters of his nails with his tongue, causing him to force his hand down to his side. He tore his eyes away from her grayish face, embarrassed, and stared down at the ground. "Uhhh…Sorry. I don't think we have been introduced…."

The Cardassian woman laughed and held out her hand for Tobin to shake. "My apologies! They call me Iloja of Prim."

She said her name as if he should have recognized it. "I'm…To— Sorry, you know me already, clearly." His eyes looked over Iloja's shoulder, searching the crowd for Skon. He felt the need to stick close to his friend.

Iloja gently laid a hand on Tobin's arm and began to lead him out of the forum toward the quays on the shores of Voroth Sea. "It's such a thrill to have someone not know who I am."

"A…thrill?"

"I delight in seeing people's reaction when they first read my poems. I'm a serialist poet, you see."

"That's…nice. That's why you're here?"

Iloja's face darkened. Tobin cursed himself. He must have offended her somehow. The way her eyes glinted in anger, this Cardassian must have a temper. If she was a diplomat, an envoy or ambassador of Cardassia…oh won't the Symbiosis Commission look kindly on his off-world behavior! Tobin prepared to run should she start screaming at him. "Sorry."

The Cardassian immediately went back to smiling. "Oh, it's not you. It's me."

Tobin just had to arch an eyebrow at her. As far as he could remember, no one had ever used that phrase on him. Not even on Lela Dax. Well, perhaps it was because Lela was a woman. The one woman who could have said that to him instead got married and gave him the little hellspawn named Raifi.

Raifi. Tobin smiled distractedly. He may be hell, but he's a hell he was proud of. Definitely not like Lela's son Ahjess. Raifi wouldn't climb into his parents' bed just to get attention. Like that time when—

"Ahem!"

Tobin started and found himself looking at the quizzical face of Iloja. "Sorry."

"Is that a behaviorism of your race?" She looked pointedly at his nail-biting.

"Sorry…. I guess I'm a little nervous…."

Iloja waved off the apology. "Please pardon my… reaction. I'm an exile."

Tobin forgot about his shyness as he studied Iloja closely. "Exile?"

"I…was something of a dissident. The Cardassian Republic decided it would be better for the welfare of the state to exile me to Vulcan."

Tobin smiled in mischievous delight by tucking in his lips and widening his eyes a bit. A habit picked up from the previous host Lela Dax. After all, by leaving Trill so far behind and participating in an alien war, putting the Dax symbiont in perpetual danger, he had become a dissident in the Trill government's eye. "What did you do?"

Iloja narrowed her eyes in instinctive suspicion, then smiled in ready affection. "Well…I think you're harmless enough." She then looked behind them at the crowd milling in the forum of Raal. "If there's any Obsidian Order agent back there, he should be out of hearing range."

Obsidian Order? That didn't sound appetizing. Tobin got nervous again. Surely, he hasn't entangled himself with a dangerous criminal…?

Iloja sighed and gazed out at the sea. "I didn't like the direction that the government was taking. We are a troubled people. And we were once a very spiritual people. When the famines began to trouble my homeworld…our spirituality began to be perverted into a reverence for the state. The government decided that the only way to solve the problems on Cardassia Prime is to explore beyond our homesystem. Look for rich worlds to conquer. As if colonization is not easier! As if what colonies we have couldn't supply us with the food we need!"

Tobin suddenly imagined alien warships filling the skies of Trill. It may be far from Cardassia, but one day this…expansion might reach it! A loud click sounded as he bit into a thumbnail. Iloja ignored the noise and kicked at the sand in anger. "They even began to open and plunder the Hebitian burial vaults to fund those voyages of 'discovery.' The Hebitians!" She said that name as if the tomb raiding was the ultimate in sacrilege.

"Sorry? Hebitians? I thought we're talking about your people, the Cardassians?"

Iloja waved the question away dismissively. "Doesn't matter. At least to non-Cardassians."

The Cardassian woman bent down and picked up some rocks and shells. She began throwing each object into the gently lapping salty sea for each point she made. "Grave-robbers! Tomb-raiders! That's what the glorious state of Cardassia has come down to!"

By now she was throwing the shells and rocks so hard into the water that Tobin found it difficult not to be grateful that she wasn't aiming for his head.

"Tret Akleen must be turning in his grave! He was the father of our nation, you know. If he came back, the state wouldn't like his way of thinking and drag him before the Supreme Archon!" Iloja finally ran out of things to throw viciously into the sea. She took a few breaths. "Anyway, I wrote serialist poems pointing all this out. They weren't traitorous. Oh, the poems protested the state's policies, but they were subtle!"

Her eyes blazed now with rage, causing Tobin to step back as if she suddenly turned into one of those man-eating sehlats that Skon talked about. "Then that…that…man! Nanpart Malor. He reported me to the Cardassian Institute of Arts. Me! Telling on a dear friend! Oh! I hope his…his stupid precious Valonnan School turns to dust! Then the Obsidian Order investigated me. The next thing I knew was the Supreme Archon sentencing me to exile on the farthest world we knew! Here, Vulcan!" She was now panting, taking deep breaths to calm herself.

Tobin stared at her, mouth open.

Iloja was now a calm, serene woman. "I must apologize. I do hope you will forgive me." She gave a wry chuckle. "We have an old saying: 'Confession is good for the soul.' I…guess this applies."

Tobin Dax beamed at her. He found a new kinship with this Cardassian woman, even if she had an impressive temper. She was an alien on an alien world. All alone, just like himself. A dissident, a rebel, a non-conformist just like himself! And just like Skon, too, if you consider his being involved in the Romulan War against the official policy of the Vulcan government as a form of rebellion. He drew on all the strength of Legislator Lela that his symbiont could offer to overcome his painful shyness. "Iloja of Prim. I have decided I like you. I would like to read your poems."

Iloja's eyes shone as she smiled brightly and gratefully.

Tobin held out a hand for her. When Iloja accepted it, he courteously led her back into the forum of Raal City. He was really thankful to Skon for bringing him along to Vulcan. Come to think of it, it would be fun to introduce Iloja to Skon!

Leaving Trill may have been a good thing after all.

AIW Tamar

Captain Shran watched the glowing opalescent fog swirl in the main viewer. They were still inside the nebula.

"Status of the Minbari cruiser?"

Lieutenant Tarah needed only a glance at her console for confirmation. She had been studying it for hours now. "The Minbari are still trying to locate us through tachyon scans. With this nebula, we'd be only a shadow, a sensor ghost at most, to them."

Commander Tholos' antennae wrung in puzzlement. "They're stubborn. Why haven't they called in reinforcements?"

"I agree," said Shran. "That's what we would do. These Minbari are arrogant, overconfident. They feel they can handle a warship of the Imperial Guard! How are the repairs?"

Keval checked the telltales on his console. "Nearly done." He gave Shran a wry grin. "Arrogant and overconfident. Not like us?"

The Andorian captain made a short chuckle. "We handled the Vulcans, didn't we? A Vulcan ship helped Captain Archer drive off two warcruisers at Epsilon 5." He waved dismissively at the fog in the main viewer. "We can handle the Minbari."

The bridge crew went back to focusing on their tasks. Shran sat back in his command chair, remembering the Battle of Regulus. It was a grueling battle, using only six Andorian warships against a Vulcan fleet of 12 ships, but it saved Andoria from a Vulcan invasion. That battle, and the incident with the Romulan telepresence drone ship, had pushed the Imperial Guard into researching the drone rack technology for its warships. Both events also caused the Imperial Guard to make Shran captain in spite of the humiliating loss of his old command, the Kumari.

The multicolored nebular fog outside the ship appeared to flash with lightning and the Tamar shook.

"Lieutenant Thon, I thought you said this nebula is not active!"

"No, sir. It's the Minbari. They're launching spatial charges into the nebula."

Another charge exploded dangerously close to the Tamar.

"Status of shields and drone rack."

"Shields at 84 percent," reported Tarah. "Drone rack back online."

Another explosion rattled his warship.

"Pour as much power as possible into the engines and shields—"

A spatial charge blew, this time hitting the ship directly.

"Direct hit…. Deck nine," reported Tarah.

Shran steeled himself. "Tholos, take us out of here."

Commander Tholos stood with legs apart and hands at his back. "Take us out."

The Andorian warship moved through the fog, among the clumps of matter and meteors, moving the multicolored strands aside. Soon enough, the Tamar emerged out of the nebula. The Minbari warcruiser had been waiting for this.

Emerald beams erupted from the front of the aqua-blue warcruiser, but the Andorians were ready for that. As the Tamar's shields glowed under the emerald assault, Shran gave the order.

"Launch the combat drones."

In the underbelly of the Andorian warship, a large panel slid open. Clusters of balls half the size of shuttlepods poured out of the now open bay and swarmed toward the Sharlin.

In quick response, Nial fighters poured out of the front of the warcruiser. The first Nial flew into the swarm of drones. It opened fired on the Andorian combat drones, one of which went under the fighter and shot a particle beam at its side. The Nial spun away, out of control, trailing sparks.

Shran watched the other Nials charging into the swarm of drones.

"Program the combat drones to lock on the Minbari one-man craft. Let's focus on that warcruiser."

"Yes, sir," complied Tholos.

Space between the two ships soon filled with neutron and particle beams lashing between the fighters and drones. Shran watched the spectacle while thicker beams were exchanged between the capital ships.

Where the particle beams touched Minbari polycrystalline armor, shards of crystal burst out into space. Some were sharp, glittering broken shards, others were melted globules that quickly froze and solidified in space. Meanwhile, neutron beams sought a breach through the skin-hugging Andorian shields. The kinetic shock of that search rattled and injured crewmen, and damaged devices within the warship.

"Tarah, target their main drive. Take it out."

The Andorian woman worked her console anxiously as the Tamar weaved its way around the swarm of drones and fighters, shocking the Minbari with its speed and maneuverability. Here was a capital ship that moved like a fighter.

Tarah played her instruments like a musical expert. Particle cannons fired. Blue beams drilled into the main drive fin at the rear of the Sharlin warcruiser and came out the other side in a cloud of broken crystal shards.

Just before this could be completed, the Minbari let fly a missile tipped with a 20-megaton warhead. The missile shot through the dwindling swarm of fighters and drones and impacted on the Andorian warship.

Everything became a brilliant white, overwhelming sensors, scanners and eyes.

Denobula Triaxa

Centurion Telvor studied the various types of vessels entering and leaving the Denobulan System and orbiting the Denobulan homeworld itself. Right now, most of the single continent of Denobula Triaxa was in the night side. It was dense with artificial light.

Cities crowding the continent.

"Status of the holoemitters?"

"Optimal. We're still a Rigelian scoutship."

Telvor nodded. They had remained a Rigelian scoutship all the way from the Topaz System. They weren't going make the mistake that Admiral Valdore and the scientist Nijil made a few years ago, changing holo-appearances with each encounter. Even so, the Raptor wasn't safely in. The warbird still had to bypass the main routes before entering the Sol System.

He continued to look at the light of Denobulan cities shining through the clouds of the planet. The Romulan centurion shook his head softly. So much light, much more than on Romulus. "How many people down there?"

"Approximately twelve billion, Centurion."

The centurion winced. Too many for one planet. It was perhaps a good thing that the Denobulans, being peaceful, were not a source of infantry or ship crews for their allies, the humans. Still…it would be in the best interest of the Star Empire and its goal of Reunification to make sure the Denobulans never decide to be such a source.

The crewman, who had scanned for the population of Denobula, added, "Centurion, this planet is geologically unstable."

Telvor arched an eyebrow. "Really."

Most habitable planets were in some degree or other geologically active. Otherwise, magnetic fields wouldn't be naturally created to keep the planet habitable in spite of space radiation. To have that activity be noticed meant this particular homeworld was more active than usual.

"Make full use of the passive scans. Encrypt the telemetry and send it to Romulus on subspace. Admiral Valdore will know what to do with the information." Telvor watched the main viewer as a Tellarite freighter warped away in the direction of Tellar five lightyears away. "Plot a course to the Vulcan System."

"Yes, Centurion."