Star Trek: Dagger

by MorbiusXX

This is a story of the Romulan war based on the Star Fleet museum website. You can view the types of spaceships on that site. I've used characters from Enterprise but the story departs that storyline.

26. Chapter 26

Second planet of Ross 128, earth year, Dec 2157

"Does he have any word on Miss Picard?" the captain asked Lieutenant Marcel Dieulafoy. H'Liq looked at Captain Michael Cromwell and issued a spate of sounds. Cromwell didn't consider that he was good with languages: English had been a challenge for him. But even he had become acquainted enough with the Ro'ha scientist to hear frustration.

"He says that no one has seen the alien woman," Dieulafoy chuckled. "I believe that he is still coming to grips with the idea of two sexes." Cromwell noticed that the archeologist had taken to referring to H'Liq as he; considering that the doctor was neither a he nor a she. "He has managed to introduce some of our design specifications for rockets among some engineers." Cromwell noted how the Frenchman's interest turned deeper as he read off the translation. "That was overshadowed by the introduction of a new device by Doctor M'Altz've."

"What is it?" he asked the archeologist. Cromwell's voice carried a note of impatience. They had been hiding in the doctor's residence for almost three earth days now. Cromwell felt that he needed to do something; anything.

There was an exchange as Dieulafoy keyed words into the translator machine. More time as the doctor listened to the slowly emitted words in his own language and even more time for a reply. Dieulafoy seemed about to answer then stopped and keyed in more words. Cromwell watched as the alien laid down a hand drawing that he had made on a large piece of paper.

"What the devil is that?" he asked.

"An old central processing unit," Chief Peter Custis spoke up. The chief rose out of the cot that passed for a Ro'ha chair and studied the doctor's drawing. "This looks like something Bill Gates or Henry Starling might have come up with." Cromwell let the man have his head: Custis was a genius when it came to electronics. "But I've never seen a design quite like this. It's like the early work in neural networks."

"Isn't that rather advanced when our hosts are in an early twentieth century stage of development?" Cromwell asked.

"Our own leap into computation and microcircuits took off in the last part of the twentieth century sir," Custis answered. "If you compare our development to other worlds we came pretty far in a short period; almost as far as the Pointies have in the last two thousand years captain."

"The same is true of Andorian medicine Olly," Schultheiss added. She had been standing watch near the entrance of H'Liq's residence. "Cellular regeneration, bone fusion and neural fiber repair were all discovered on Andoria less than two hundred years ago." She looked at Dieulafoy. "Nothing to report Marcel; we'll change places I suppose." Cromwell watched as she reluctantly took the translator from the archeologist.

"If it makes you feel any better doctor I believe that H'Liq likes you better than he does me." The lieutenant threw on his heavy shore coat and wrinkled his nose. "I believe that he associates me with a type of mollusk that is in their waters."

"Picard can't be supplying this M'Altz've with advanced information could she?" he asked the open room. "Make sure that you relay that to our host Trudy. I want no secrets here."

"Can you ask him if this thing has been designed or is it just a picture ma'am?" Custis asked Schultheiss. He looked sheepishly at Cromwell. "Sorry sir."

"You are on to something chief, please continue."

"I was just thinking of some of Marc's translations I was reading," the chief began. "I guess the competing ideas here have to do with how to save the population. Mister H'Liq here is searching in the physical sciences: Trying to reverse the environmental damage. This fellow M'Altz've: I'm beginning to wonder. It sounded at first like he was setting up one of those death cults like from the twentieth and twenty-first centuries on earth. But…"

"Speak up man," Cromwell said. "We won't laugh at you; not to your face anyway." Michael grinned at the chief.

"Well what if this other scientist is smarter than we think," Custis looked around obviously unsure of how to proceed. "I mean it sounded all mystical but what if the soul surviving forever means storing it in a neural network?"

"We can't even do that in the twenty-second century Pete," Schultheiss said.

"I know it sounds crazy—

They were stopped from further discussion by the hoots and whistles coming from the Ro'ha scientist. Cromwell looked on as Schultheiss monitored the translator's screen. She keyed in several inputs telling Cromwell that she needed the Ro'ha to either repeat what he said or to clarify it.

"The doctor says that M'Altz've proposes the death of the race," she read stiffly. "What he wants the race to submit to, is blasphemous. It is against the will of the gods. H'Liq goes on to explain that M'Altz've is parlaying a sudden knowledge of electricity and electronics into a popular position; seeking to build a cult of personality in spite of the impending disaster."

Sudden knowledge?" the captain asked. "Ask him to clarify—

"I already have Olly," Schultheiss answered. "I am getting to where I can read your mind." She winked at him making Cromwell blush a little. She grew serious again. "M'Altz've was a minor professor at a federal college until what translates into three of our years ago. The doctor was assigned as a technician working on a dig studying the origins of Ro'ha life."

"And he comes back with advanced knowledge," Cromwell mused.

"He could have been conducting research for a long time captain," Custis said.

"Perhaps," Cromwell answered. He remembered Archer's story about time traveling aliens coming to old earth. He asked Schultheiss to ask the Ro'ha where this dig was. After much button pushing on her part the scientist produced a map of his world.

"Looks rugged," Custis said after examining the chart. He was holding an infrared light over it to adjust for the color differences that would otherwise be invisible to human eyes.

"Nothing a shuttle can't overcome," he said. Daedelus had returned now that the solar activity had subsided. "What about this M'Altz've? I wish to meet with this doctor."

"You think Picard is with the alien," Schultheiss said. It was a statement and not a question.

"I do," Cromwell said. "Just a guess but I do not believe that a glowing two-legged alien could stay hidden among the locals unless someone was helping her. The question is what the alien is receiving in return."

There were some hoots and squeals from H'Liq. "The doctor says that going to M'Altz've's residence is risky at best. He suggests that we attempt it tonight." Schultheiss seemed thoughtful. "H'Liq is resistant to us going there. I believe that he is concerned about M'Altz've having access to the technology that we represent."

"He may have that somewhat through Miss Picard," Cromwell retorted. "The question is why." He called Daedelus and ordered Somers to land a team near the mountain dig.

"I'll send them off within the hour captain," she answered through the static. "Are you ready to trade places down there sir?" Somers asked.

"I'm having too much fun right now for that number one," he replied with a grin. "But I also want every bit of data we have on the electrical disturbance reexamined. This time I want all departments to look at it."

The Plains of Danoroc, Vulcan, earth year Dec 2157

The freighter was staying put. Lieutenant Tarang Gupta guessed that this automated base had been of interest to the Romulans. They seemed to be attempting to repair the fueling lines. Gupta took another long look through his field glasses, put them down and yawned. He was laid out flat against the warm rock. The group had separated to reduce their combined coherent heat signature. He started as he heard some pebbles roll down the side of a boulder.

"It is I," T'Pol declared quietly as she slipped soundlessly next to him. He slipped an arm around her.

"We should make our move soon," he said. "Where is Syrran?" She explained that Syrran was in a meditative state. "I think that we should consider leaving him behind." He did not feel her stir and could not see her face. Yet he wondered how she would react to his notion.

"Because he is the leader of this movement," she said rather than asked.

"Yes," he answered. "What happens if he were to be killed?"

"T'Pau would carry on in his place," T'Pol answered. "I wonder though at the credence they put into the Kir'Shara. We have followed Surak's teachings now for a long time. I just do not see how new information can change the face of our culture."

"You've all resisted my idea of logic as a faith," Gupta said. "But I can see some interesting outcomes in my culture were certain documents of religious figures to be exposed. Even today there are billions of faithful Christians and Muslims on my world, as well as the Hindi."

"We are not as humans Tarang," she asserted.

"You share some of our qualities," he retorted. "Right now your people aren't shooting at one another. But work has come to a standstill here and communications are completely closed off; all because of one Vulcan's ideas."

He felt her squeeze his hand. "I fear the changes that will come to my world; nothing will be the same again." He was amazed to hear her express an actual emotion. She apparently sensed his surprise. "Vulcan couples share deep feelings Tarang. This is not the world of my youth. Logic seems like a protective salve for my people; now we may face the end of that. Perhaps there is much to what Syrran says."

"My grandfather used to laugh and tell me that every generation thinks that it faces the pivotal challenge of its time. He said if that were true, then roaches would rule the earth because some generations of men were too weak to get out of bed. Somehow we muddle through the bad times T'Pol. Vulcan will survive."

"Maybe your human faith in the future is what we need," she answered.

"We're here," he said. He did feel light despite the dangers they were facing and had faced. "We should head for the base while Syrran is meditating."

"Agreed," she shifted in his arms. Their lips brushed and they kissed. "I heard what you told Syrran today. In some ways I fear that. Vulcan relationships became things of convenience and position in my society. I never expected to feel loved or to give it. I grew comfortable in the knowledge that I would mate for position; so our offspring would have a better life. But I realized that there was more: I saw it sometimes with my parents. I saw it on earth."

"I don't know what the future will hold for us T'Pol," he answered. "I do love you. It will not always be easy for us."

They kissed again. "It is too late to change things now. I sense in some part your thoughts now." He felt that was the Vulcan equivalent of a sweet nothing until he heard her speak; yet she was not speaking aloud.

Vulcan couples can sense one another's thoughts. Your mental abilities are weak but they are there.

He shuddered somewhat. He felt exposed in a way that he had never before felt. Gupta felt the warm blanket of her thoughts comforting him. The feeling of nakedness went away. Tarang saw her as she must see him. He felt her nervousness and fears as well as her love for him. Gupta descended further feeling as if he were outside himself; a new person seemed to exist: The product of the two of them. He was rudely snapped out of his feelings of bliss.

"I knew that I could expect you two to indulge yourselves," Syrran declared. Gupta hastily scrambled away from the woman. She did likewise. He sat up; feeling like he did as a teen being caught by his parents.

"We must leave quickly," Syrran declared. Gupta could hear shouting in what he knew was the Romulan language. They were agitated.

"What have—

"I told you that I served with the High Command long ago," the Vulcan explained as the trio scrambled out of the rocks and started running toward the next protective cover. "I served at bases like these. I entered the automated command center and obtained the data you sought Gupta."

Tarang stumbled but kept his footing. The night lit up with laser fire. He dived into a depression of the desert terrain. He waited knowing that there was no place to go. He pulled the Colt 2000 out of his electronically camouflaged cloak. He felt Syrran's restraining hand upon his own.

"They will cease Tarang," the Vulcan assured him. Gupta heard more shouts from closer to the base. The pursuit did indeed seem to drop off. "Let us increase the distance between that base and where we are." Syrran got on his feet and started a quick trot toward the refuge.

"Why; what is going to happen?" T'Pol called to the Vulcan male.

"I turned off the primary cooling unit for the base's fusion reactor and then removed the power leads to both the secondary and emergency units." Syrran spoke as if he were explaining how he got to his residence.

"You mean it is going to explode?" Gupta yelled, not really caring if Romulans heard him.

"That is the usual outcome of such a change in the reactors—

His voice was drowned out by the howling jets of the carrier. It roared overhead as it clawed its way skyward. Tarang was impressed at how quickly the Birdies had evacuated their people. Then he wondered if the suicidal Romulans had not abandoned their people their. He guessed that they were now four kilometers from the base's main generator. The saboteurs ran at a breakneck pace. Gupta's lungs felt as if they were on fire. He knew that he could not have run like this without collapsing before. The months spent on the high desert world had toughened him. They plunged through the night.

Gupta could smell the dampness from the edge of the refuge. He knew that less than six kilometers separated the base from the refuge. He had run that far and not collapsed. But would it be enough he wondered. He stopped short as he realized that a ditch from a drainage system lay before him. Only Syrran's eyes and sharp reflexes had prevented him from falling the five meters to the bottom.

Tarang bent over grasping at his knees. His lungs tried taking in great draughts of air. He was aware that Syrran was speaking. "Jump Tarang!" the Vulcan ordered. The air was knocked out of Tarang as he hit the bottom of the muddy ground. Someone covered his eyes as the night sky lit up in a temporary terrible dawn. Gupta passed out.

Romulan Imperial Cruiser Riitraxa, hidden on the third moon of Vulcan's gas giant Antinox, earth year Dec 2157

He turned the seal over and over in his hands. Valdore weighed tradition against the needs of the present. He saw the concerned look of his comrade Vrax. He counted himself as fortunate to have the senator as an ally. Valdore knew that so many would turn away rather than face the invisible hand of the Tal Shiar. Valdore looked again at the seal. He looked at the letter on the desk.

"Denaton was friends with my son," Valdore explained. "In happier times the two would come to our estate on their leaves from Norcela. Dalen looked at Denaton as another son."

Vrax looked at the letter from his seat across the desk. "Will you accept that?"

Valdore chose not to answer; rather, he pressed a touch pad summoning the waiting centurion from the outer passage. Denaton, adorned, in his formal golden battle helmet entered and saluted gravely. Valdore stood and returned the salute. He remained standing silently.

"My admiral; I failed in my duty," Denaton proclaimed solemnly.

"Yes," Valdore answered quietly. "But I cannot demand your life. I read your report on what happened out there. But I need to understand what happened." Valdore emphasized the last two words. Donator stood impassively for a while until Valdore snapped: "Well."

"My admiral; we used the sensor overload protocol on the relief group. They managed to send a brief warning message to the space station. When we were at the optimum range Star Fleet turned off their sensors. We were unable to take them by surprise."

"You had overwhelming force against a stationary target, centurion," Valdore snapped.

"We," Denaton stopped until he looked at Valdore's reproachful glare. "We broke upon them but it was like wind blowing upon a mountain. I sent an entire legion of fighters against them only to see my warriors annihilated." Denaton looked around in confusion. "Admiral we were told that these creatures were soft. How could the Tal Shiar have gotten it so wrong?" He looked around as if the walls had eyes; as indeed they often did these days.

"Be at peace Denaton," Valdore answered. The centurion's face assumed a look of shock as Valdore handed him back his family seal and the letter. "I need warriors now. It is pointless to kill yourself in some final act of contrition when the empire needs all of the live warriors that it can get. You discovered a basic fact about our enemy: They are more than any of us were told. And remember that it was my strategy that was defeated Denaton. They are not invincible. The empire shall prevail."

"It was almost like fighting—

Valdore merely looked at the young officer. He knew what Denaton had been about to say. "Like fighting what centurion?" the senator asked.

Denaton was so long in answering that Valdore finally bid him to speak. "It was like engaging our own people in the war games senator."

"That would explain your last act Denaton," Valdore said flatly. He waited until his son's old friend spoke.

"I ordered that we pass them in salute admiral," Denaton replied at last. "The aliens were worthy adversaries."

"Very well," Valdore said after a long pause. "I am dispatching you and your gekha force to Gozai. Use what you learned from the attack on their space station. They will attempt to destroy our new stationary plasma weapons; that must not be permitted."

"I have heard that the taerh Stiles is back in space, admiral," the centurion said.

"That is true," Valdore answered. "But rather it is she or Strategos Antor the challenge will be the same. Their Admiral Forrest is maneuvering his pieces wisely." He looked across the desk at Denaton. He reached across and seized the centurion's wrist strongly. "Sa'Urri nouhha Denaton, jolan tru." Valdore released the centurion's wrist.

"Jolan tru admiral," the warrior bowed and departed.

"It may be that his new task will be a death sentence, Vrax," Valdore said at last. He went over to a cabinet and removed a bottle of kali-fal. He looked at Vrax who opened and closed his eyes slowly. Valdore poured his friend some of the pungent drink as well as pouring one for himself.

"You don't believe that they will bypass Gozai, Valdore?"

"Their psychology demands retribution as well as assuaging Thorpe and Shran's political fortunes. Also I believe that Forrest will not allow us a base in what would be the rear of a new envelopment against Romulus." He handed Vrax the drink.

"This new federation," Vrax answered as he sipped the kali-fal. "It defies everything that we know. How can these aliens act as one?"

"It is the humans my friend. The Andorians and Tellarites, even the Vulcans have become homogenous. The humans were never so: Up until this war their warriors still wore the uniforms of their national homelands. Somehow despite outward appearances they turn as one against an enemy. Their Sons' of Terra; they are nothing more than screeching kilhe. They represent the stupid among the humans and yet enlightened humans tolerate their behavior. It says something about our opponents Vrax."

"Perhaps Perex was correct?"

"Killing Thorpe would anger the humans and solidify even the most craven of them against us; of that I am convinced. It could even cause this federation to become reality. I still hope that time will erode the Triple Alliance's desire for a stronger alliance. I hope that Perex does as I bid him; an act of sabotage against their industrial base could help the empire immensely."

"You spoke to Perex," Valdore could hear the warning in the senator's voice. "That was an ill conceived move, my friend. His family is well placed in the imperial court."

"He is a true believer," Valdore answered. Valdore had been a contemporary of Perex's father; a powerful general in the Imperial Legion structure. Rtalonè had fallen ill with a disease that ate away at his bones. His son Perex had seemed to be a mere slip compared to his father. But Valdore had always suspected that Perex possessed his father's guile. "He will resist my order at first, but he will come to see the wisdom in it."

"Then he did stay behind?"

"Several of the human augments rebelled. He was reported as dead. But I believe otherwise."

"I never felt comfortable using the humans." Valdore looked sidewise at his companion. "Oh I have no regard for them. They are to be conquered by us as all inferiors are. It is just that I believed that we would create a weapon that would turn on us."

"So it came to pass. But that danger is alleviated: A few whose loyalty proved to be beyond reproach were spared. The rest of their colony was turned over to the biology division for experimentation and dissection."

"That is well then. What of these attacks on Vulcan? We are no closer to Reunification."

"Gupta," Valdore pronounced the name like it was a curse. "The Syrranites are pacifists. These attacks are led by this agent; another error on the Tal Shiar's part: They completely underestimated their terran counterpart's abilities. But the time for recriminations is past. I must force V'Las to somehow involve Syrran in the government. Our logical brethren will cease questioning what is happening after such an offer."

Valdore watched as Vrax looked around the cabin as Denaton had done earlier. "You know that you may speak freely here senator."

"What of your other…plan?"

"I am considering several options. The successor to Karzan must be someone who will release the Grand Fleet to my control otherwise this assassination will be pointless."

Vrax winced at the open mention of the planned murder. "I reviewed the ship roster. It seems that some numbers were amiss. Perhaps you will not need control of the entire fleet."

"You saw the real roster Vrax. I long suspected more malfeasance from the Tal Shiar. I requisitioned ships based on losses that never occurred. I cannot mount an effective offense with what I concealed, but I can fight an effective holding action here."

Valdore was satisfied with his accomplishment. Humans called it embezzlement. He would face execution were his actions ever uncovered. But he doubted that would happen: The Tal Shiar had long ago marginalized the military. Valdore had taken that time to build his own network among his chosen warriors. He would win this war for the empire even while dragging the Tal Shiar along the road to victory with him.

Taskforce 25, UES Fearless, inbound to the Topaz system, Dec 2157

Commodore Pierre "Grizzly" Oulette stretched out his arms. The he was told, made him look like his nickname. The evening watch would end soon. Oulette was thinking of his warm bed. He was also thinking of the impending crew shuffle that was the result of some bed sharing.

Talas and Jeffrey Sutton had been married shortly after the battle of Deep Space One. Neither the Stellar Navy nor the Imperial Guard supported a policy of married couples serving together. That would soon leave Grizzly minus a first officer or perhaps an operations' officer; or perhaps both. Both services allowed the married couple the choice of a shore assignment. It was a reversal of a long standing policy but Grizz knew that some of those people were just as likely and just as quickly to become widows or widowers. Grizzly hated the thought of breaking in another stranger.

"Mister Guerrero," he called across the Pioneer class cruiser's small bridge. Lieutenant David Guerrero was serving in the operations' officer position. Oulette recalled when the American had been nothing more than a senior enlisted person. He had thought that Guerrero showed command potential then. But that had been a different navy where it was hard enough for an academy schooled officer to make it; much less an enlisted person.

"Yes sir?" the lieutenant asked.

"Did you submit your application to squadron officer's school?"

"Well sir," the reply came slowly; not in Guerrero's usual crisp delivery. "I meant to transmit that application when we put in for repairs at UP. But things happened and I hadn't seen my family in awhile—

"Yes, yes," Oulette replied tiredly. "And your foot hurt and you forgot how to enter your name on a Stellar Navy form and your parents' hound ate the wafer and you had to leave before it could be passed." Oulette grew serious. "Look David; you are a good officer. In all likelihood you will be brevetted to lieutenant commander and from there to commander. I understand that the Bastard has done that for his CAG. I received a communiqué from Admiral Buchanan on just how he bent the regulations to accomplish that feat. My point David is that you will end this war as an officer. If you go to SOS you may be able to retain your rank after it is over."

Guerrero looked around the bridge. Oulette could see that he was uncomfortable talking about his career before the bridge personnel. But Pierre had never been one for secrets on his ship. Personal tragedy or a request for privacy was one thing. Oulette believed though that in most matters whispers were not conducive to good morale.

"I hadn't really thought about the end sir," Guerrero answered. He looked at his feet. "I mean; I might not even stay in the navy," this last he added quietly.

"Being a civilian is not a sin," Oulette answered. "But if you do choose to stay then you should do so as an officer." Pierre hunkered down in his seat and added in a conspiratorial tone: "Holding the reins is really the best: Instead of constantly complaining about how things need to be done you can find out just how hard it is to accomplish anything." He laughed heartily. It really seemed that the navy bureaucracy could be as much an enemy as could the Birds. "Seriously though David; even as an operations' officer you can affect the lives of those you command in a positive way. Someone will step in to command. You have to ask yourself if you want that person to be a pretender or someone who can lead."

"Very inspirational," Chief Traz proclaimed sarcastically. "Why; it makes me want to go out and join the Stellar Navy. It is enough that we have to mix with you baldies in this Star Fleet."

"You may feel free to tender your application chief!" Oulette answered.

"Sir; I'm receiving a distress call," Ensign Peter Wilson announced. Oulette could barely make out his outline in the darkened communications' alcove. Grizzly waited for more information.

"It's convoy Thirty-five ten," he said slowly as he listened into his earpiece.

"That's a scheduled convoy in this sector captain," Guerrero reported. "They are hauling medical supplies out of Denobula. They were to be escorted by the Ironsides, Cherokee and San Jacinto."

"I have them at the edge of scanner range along the convoy route," the Tellarite said. "I'm seeing unidentified power signatures suggestive of pirate vessels."

"Strangle the subspace sensors and go to subspace radar chief," Oulette ordered sourly. The Birds had effectively found a way to not only jam but also to short out the new scanners. Star Fleet commanders were using subspace sensors now for only short intermittent durations. Oulette hoped that a fix came soon.

"Helm; coordinate with sensors and plot an interception course." Oulette turned to Guerrero. "Have the carriers maintain a standoff distance and launch fighters. Use taskforce formation omicron." Oulette would spread the carriers out beyond radar range. At least sciences had concluded that the sensor blindness was two sided. The Birds were keeping their scanners off as well. He listened as the helmsman returned with a new course. Ensign Yuri Katz was still wet behind the ears but, like most recent academy graduates he executed his duties flawlessly.

"Very good ensign," he answered "Relay to the taskforce; prepare to engage at warp 2.9 and execute on my mark." He turned back to Guerrero. "Sound general quarters David."

"The other ships are reporting back," Guerrero answered. The only indication of his ship's battle condition was a blinking light on Oulette's armchair. He didn't need the noise of a klaxon to remind him of the order he had just given. "They are ready sir."

"Engage," Oulette said calmly. He heard the bridge hatch trundle open. He needn't have turned around to know that the new arrival was Lieutenant Talas. "I believe that your time is getting better lieutenant," he said as he pivoted his chair around. "It looks like the Birds are harassing a convoy."

"Thirty-five ten is operating in this area captain," she answered as slipped into the first officer's position. He wasn't surprised that she had a mental roster of convoy assignments.

"We should be on them in twenty minutes," Oulette answered. "The carriers are spreading out according to formation omicron." Oulette pictured the triangular formation from which the carriers would launch their fighters.

"What is the point of attacking a medical convoy?" his Andorian first officer asked.

Oulette had been dwelling upon that very question. The Birds had been ruthless adversaries but they had not been capricious when it came to their supposed objectives. This attack would damage some morale but it would otherwise not hamper the allies' efforts. They surely had enough intelligence on the allies to recognize a medical relief vessel.

"Relay to carriers; one fighter squadron is to assume positions as radar pickets when we intercept the Birds." Oulette hated to lose the Minotaurs' firepower but without subspace sensors he had little choice. The rotating squadron of fighters would form a protective sphere around his taskforce should the Romulans try bringing in other forces in a pincer.

Talas acknowledged the order. The bridge hatch rolled open momentarily flooding the bridge with light from the outside corridor. Jeffrey Sutton entered and assumed his position relieving Guerrero as ops officer. Oulette ordered Guerrero to the auxiliary control room. He wondered if he should send Sutton there as well. But no; if anything were to happen on the bridge it would be dire straits indeed.

"Good day Mister Talas," he declared in a cheery tone. He smiled as he saw Sutton wince at the name: Andorian custom called for the spouse of the smaller household to assume the family name. Talas' immediate family was huge compared to Sutton's.

"Commodore," Sutton answered quietly. Oulette apprised him of the situation. "The group is under attack by five bogies. There are also returns suggesting Eightball activity." Oulette could see the man's tenseness in his shoulders as Sutton hugged the hood of his sensor screen. "What I'd give for a two second peep with subspace sensors!"

"We dare not try it," Oulette advised. He turned to Peter Wilson. "Are you scanning subspace activity in the higher ranges?" The ensign nodded in reply. "Star Fleet has at least been able to determine that the Bird jamming device bleeds over into the high subspace bands. We know it is there and we cannot yet counter it."

"Ten minutes till intercept," Traz said.

"All sections report in ready commodore," Talas reported. "All ships report ready. The Oriskany and Exeter are launching Minotaurs. The Oriskany group will run radar surveillance."

"I'm losing the radar picture commodore," Sutton reported. "I believe that they are using their version of mumbo-jumbo."

"Merde," Oulette declared. Mumbo-jumbo was the name given to micro fragments of refractive metals spread out over an area to obscure radar returns. "The Birds are on to us." Hackles ran down Oulette's back. This was looking like an ambush. He would have set up such a trap himself in the days before subspace sensors.

"Five minutes until contact," Sutton reported. "I'm getting weak returns. Their ships are laid out in strange formation."

"Correct our approach angle to a two degree higher azimuth Ensign Katz," Oulette ordered quickly. He was guessing that the Birds were laying in such a way as to hide their true numbers.

"Cherokee has been destroyed sir!" Talas exclaimed. "Ironsides is reporting that the San Jacinto is heavily damaged but still combat worthy."

"I have returns from three more unknowns commodore," Sutton reported.

There it was Grizzly thought. He looked over Katz's shoulder and saw that the time was now at five minutes. He had to squint to see the navigation chronometer. Oulette supposed that he should take one of those retinox treatments that he had read about. He ordered the radar display to be shown on the main viewer. Pierre looked at a series of mystery images. Sutton had assigned data to each which was scrolling beneath each contact.

"Two freighters have been destroyed," Sutton said. Grizzly's ops officer was quiet but he could hear the undercurrent of contempt in Sutton's voice.

"Commodore, I've coordinated the drop out point with Chief Traz," Lieutenant Sylvia Moran stated. "I can bring Narwhals to bear almost immediately."

"Very good; I want a series of random zigzags performed," Oulette said. "Jeffrey; inform the rest of the group. Chief Traz; prepare to implement evasive pattern beta."

"We will wallow like a tava whale," the Tellarite proclaimed. Oulette did not know to what creature his helmsman was referring; but the sentiment was true nonetheless. Oulette had prepared a series of attack patterns for his taskforce should sensors become inoperable. He supposed that this was as good a time as any to try some of them.

"Two minutes until contact," Sutton announced.

Oulette strapped himself into his chair. He knew that things were liable to be rough when the nukes started going off. He watched as his bridge crew did likewise. The enemy on the viewscreen became more resolved blurbs of information. They could not ascertain the Romulan cruiser's power levels but radar still told the story on course and speed.

"It is not last year you bastards," Oulette said under his breath. "Lay a spread out immediately Sylvia." Oulette wanted to sow as much confusion into the mind of the Bird commander as he could. He wondered briefly if the Romulans might possess some sort of dreadful group consciousness. Was what happened in a battle light years and months ago instantly transmitted to the rest of them? No he thought; he needed to stop reading ancient science fiction and horror novels.

"Dropping into normal space commodore," Traz reported.

"The rest of the taskforce reports in place," Talas added.

"Firing and away!" Sylvia Moran exclaimed.

Oulette's stomach knotted as Fearless' artificial gravity burbled. He didn't need Sutton to inform him that they had been struck. Oulette guessed that it was a well placed plasma cannon volley. Reports poured in but the gist was that Fearless was still in one piece and ready for battle.

"Incoming missiles!" his ops officer exclaimed. "Speed and evasive pattern suggests that they are Moolahs—detonation!"

Oulette wondered why the Bird missiles had exploded so far away. They had just entered Spider range when they went up. He soon had his answer as the environmental warning lights flickered on his armrest. The voice of the engineer intruded seconds later with the news of multiple hull breaches.

"Whatever was in that last missile was like getting hit with grapeshot," Lieutenant Commander Shato announced. It took Grizzly a moment to recall what that was: An ancient cannon shell packed with loose materials. He knew that the Andorian was an aficionado of old Andorian and terran weaponry. "It went right through most of the hull plating."

"Another Moolah sir!" Sutton yelled.

"Adjust Spider range to compensate—

Oulette didn't get to finish his last statement as the bridge emergency lights flickered. There was a flash as an explosion blew out several of the lights. Grizzly grabbed his emergency mask as he felt a telltale wind on his face. "Adjust missile defense system for these new tactics! Report!" he snapped.

"Spiders away!" the gunnery officer called out.

"We have decompression on several decks," Shato's voice called out of the bridge speakers. "We've had circuits cut but I've managed to reroute sir."

"Sound the decompression alarm," Oulette ordered in a firm voice. "Have the crew don suits." Oulette heard the warbling keen that was every spacer's nightmare. He was spun violently in his seat.

"Plasma cannon hit!" he heard the desperation in Talas' voice. Smoke started rolling out of several of the bridge consoles. Peter Wilson spun in his seat narrowly missing having his head blown off when the communications' alcove erupted into sparks and fire.

"Engineering, engineering!" he called. "What is going on down there?"

"Starboard nacelle," there was a blast of static. "Decomp--," more noise; then there was nothing.

"Bridge communications are out sir," Wilson said as he unstrapped and started spraying his panel with a nearby fire extinguisher.

"I've lost automated override over weapons sir!" Lieutenant Moran bellowed.

"Auxiliary control," Oulette said after he thumbed his direct feed into Fearless' alternate command center.

"Guerrero here sir," the lieutenant answered. "The status board looks like a Christmas tree commodore."

"Can the ship be commanded from there?" Oulette asked. When Guerrero replied after a moment that it could Grizzly gave the order that he had always feared: "Abandon the bridge. Traz transfer helm to aux control."

"Incoming missiles!" his ops officer warned. "It looks like the second cabbage is lining us up for a plasma cannon shot; fighters moving to intercept. They've completely blanketed the area with mumbo jumbo!"

An ugly thought occurred to Oulette. He had little time to entertain it as he cast aside his restraints and got up. He wondered about the status of his carriers. He returned to his chair only to see his armchair control panel erupt in an explosion. Grizzly stepped back as he heard the telltale pop indicating a blowout. He started to put on his breath mask when he noticed Traz still at the helm.

"Get moving chief!" he ordered harshly.

"We are bracketed you fool of a commodore!" the Tellarite answered. "Someone has to get us out before we are destroyed!"

Oulette threw the mask over his face. The deck pitched up as the artificial gravity fought to keep up with the sudden changes. Fire shot out of the navigation console. Grizzly realized with horror that the Tellarite was on fire. Oulette felt rough hands seize him and drag him away. His last vision of his bridge was of the burning Tellarite still maneuvering the great cruiser. The bridge hatch closed quickly. Oulette realized that the chief's suffering was over as the telltale showed pure vacuum on the other side of the hatch. Oulette started his way toward auxiliary control. He had little time for grief.

Grizzly moved like he was twenty years older. Everywhere he passed damage control teams were busy at work. The corridors were still pressurized. Oulette ripped the mask off of his face. "Talas; go and inquire of the engineer on our status. We need to get ready to go to warp." Oulette's last view of the battle had showed that the Star Fleet ships were winning. The Sabinus and Veronus cruisers were backing off after losing two of their number. But Oulette suspected that their target had been something else all along.

"Aye sir," Talas answered. The Andorian turned down another corridor and slid down a service ladder. Oulette watched as Sutton looked with concern at his wife. Grizzly was glad that his intended was safe at home and not on a warship. His thoughts turned to his future wife and his adopted child: The girl's parents had handed Katy over to Oulette when the former governor of Deneva had absconded leaving surviving families to the Romulan forces.

Oulette slid down a service stairway to the lower deck. He was in the most armored section of the Pioneer class cruiser. Sickbay was to starboard and the auxiliary command center was to port. Oulette led the bridge crew to the left. He stood before the bulky hatch and keyed in the correct code. The door slid silently aside. Grizzly saw David Guerrero fairly leap out of the smaller version of his bridge command chair.

A nervous enlisted file who looked to Oulette to be all of fifteen years old was manning the helm. The young man seemed to have more fear of Oulette than he did of his present situation. The weapons officer was an equally green ensign. The sensor operator was the oldest. A navy chief who Grizzly knew had put off retirement after the start of the war.

"Helm control just came on line a few minutes ago sir," Guerrero said. "Whoever was up there got our ass out of a royal sling." Yes Chief Traz had saved them. There would be time for tears later Oulette thought. "Warp drive is unresponsive and I've lost contact with engineering."

"Talas is rectifying that situation," Oulette responded in an optimistic tone. He turned to the young navy enlisted man. "Spaceman second?" he asked as he recalled the boy from his last new personnel briefing. He hated to think boy; but he could not see the helmsman as a man. The boy nodded. Oulette wondered if someone had not falsified some enlistment credentials. "You scored highly on ship handling. Your senior officers have reported that your performance has been exemplary. This is the real thing Spaceman McGivers. I need you to steer my ship where I command her to be."

"Aye-aye cap—commodore!" Grizzly put out a restraining hand to keep the boy from springing to attention.

He spun on his heel and stood over Ensign Peter Wilson as the communications' officer settled into his seat. "Raise our carriers ensign. I have a bad feeling in my belly and it is not from the cook's last meal."

"Nothing sir," Wilson responded after making a few hails.

"Talas to control," his first officer's voice called out of the control center's speakers. Oulette acknowledged her call. "The starboard aft section, mostly decks twelve through nineteen in gamma section have taken heavy damage. We can't go to warp with those sections hanging there."

"A call coming in from Oriskany sir," Wilson announced. Oulette looked on as the ensign listened to the information coming over his earpiece. "Captain Gardner is abandoning ship. He is reporting that Exeter is gone. They were ambushed by Birdies after they fell back from the radar interference."

"Those ambushing ships will be heading our way commodore," Guerrero said.

"Tactical plot on viewer," Oulette ordered. Oguma and Stingray were gone along with San Jacinto. Oulette bowed his head as Wilson reported that Badr had lost her warp drive. He studied the graphical representation of the Tannhauser. An unmarked radar graphic, a Romulan cruiser made a close pass on Badr. The track of the Star Fleet cruiser vanished off of the viewer.

"Muster our survivors for a withdrawal Jeffrey," he said sadly. Pierre could see the ghostly returns of six more Romulan cruisers bearing down on them. The reports from the other ships of his taskforce were equally bad.

Oulette assumed his seat. He selected the engineering call button. "Shato; we need warp speed in two minutes."

"Sir," the engineer answered. "I can blow those sections; that will restore our structural integrity. But I have people in those sections; at least one hundred are down there."

Oulette could hear jostling over the speaker. "Commodore; we need to assess our structural integrity after we blast away the damaged sections. We don't have two minutes to evacuate everyone and do that."

"Give those people a few seconds sir!" Shato's embittered voice exploded over the speaker. Grizzly took a deep breath. "Sir they are filtering out now; just thirty seconds please!"

Oulette looked at the graphic showing the approaching cruisers. "Smart bastards," he mumbled quietly. "Talas; do what it takes to save my ship."

"Aye sir," the Andorian answered.

Seconds later Pierre felt a sharp vibration through his boots. He knew that pieces of his ship were blown away. He knew that living people had been in those pieces. He vaguely heard McGivers reporting that warp speed showed available. As in a dream where he was an observer he saw himself giving the order for warp speed. This was one for the Birds he thought bitterly.

Star Fleet vessel Serendipity, approaching the Klingon border, Dec 2157

"Seems like a good reason to put one of these fancy conference rooms to use." Augustus Kirk examined his cards and then turned his attention to the other players. He casually dropped a jack of spades onto the table and smiled.

"I feel certain that you are attempting to obtain all of the point cards Kirk," the Vulcan Soval said.

"Who me?" he asked in a mock innocent tone. "Why; I'm just playing my cards as I've been dealt them, Smiley." Kirk had learned to read the Vulcan well enough to see that the moniker that he had assigned Soval still bothered the Vulcan. He had always been under the impression that Vulcans were emotionless machines. Kirk had learned differently under the sometimes impatient tutoring in Klingon that he was receiving from the elder Vulcan.

"Mister Kirk bears watching," Captain Marisa Morgan declared from across the conference table.

"Feel free to watch me as much as you'd like captain," Kirk answered. "I don't get much attention from lovely young ladies at my age." He watched as Serendipity's commander put down a ten of spades. Kirk was amazed that the queen had not surfaced.

"You humans;" Soval began. "You speak in ways that seem duplicitous. You captain, seem to indicate that Kirk is not to be trusted and yet he is granted standing as a defacto ambassador."

"And you Vulcans are an obtuse a lot as ever came along," Major Lasuda declared. The Tellarite had been a last minute addition to the former carrier's crew. He had chosen to retain his Tellarite Army rank rather than use a Star Fleet rank. The alien deposited a two of spades onto the tabletop. "Tell me Vulcan; why did your people never propose an alliance such as this federation?"

Kirk merely smiled. He suspected that the Tellarite was interested in acquiring Vulcan technology for his people should that race enter into the new alliance. Kirk had also seen a certain amount of contempt directed toward the Vulcan from both the Andorians and Tellarites who were aboard. He guessed that was the price of Vulcan standoffishness. Soval laid down a three of spades.

"We were satisfied to remain trading partners with the other races," Soval said. "I do not recall the Tellarites proposing to give up their sovereignty."

"Do you really think it is that Soval?" Morgan piped up and asked. "If there is anybody who should be afraid of losing our sovereignty it should be we humans. We have a long history of fighting over meaningless differences."

"And yet here we are Red," Kirk said as he tossed out the ace of diamonds. "But I think Smiley is concerned that his way of life will change. That is a legitimate concern for anyone."

"It will be different," Lasuda said. "But I do not fear that we will become human. That is ridicules. Do you fear that you will become Tellarite, Vulcan; though that would be an improvement?"

"Of course not," Soval answered. The Vulcan threw down a five of clubs after Morgan produced a nine of diamonds. "But it is not logical to think that nothing will change. You all have your cultures and traditions. Is it not logical to want those things to continue? We Vulcans merely want to preserve what we are. Our past was most violent; it is something we do not wish to repeat."

"Oh, we won't corrupt you," Morgan said in a serious voice. "Much," she added with a sly grin.

Major Lasuda issued a hearty laugh, "Well said captain. We shall soak up each others vices." The Tellarite looked at Soval. "Some vices will do your people good." He laid down a nine of hearts. "Right now cheating would come in handy. I believe Kirk is trying to get all of the point cards as you said Vulcan. I do not like this game. I wish that you would try to learn cravelza."

"I don't feel like having my fingers broken," Morgan said quickly.

"Ah!" the Tellarite exclaimed. "You've played before captain."

"Hearts are broken," Kirk said.

"I bet you did a lot of that when you were younger?" Morgan asked him.

Kirk decided to make his play. He led out with the ace of hearts. He winked at the redhead. If only he were twenty years younger—and single he reminded himself. "I still do."

"This banter," Soval said. "I have never understood the point of it. You all would be far more relaxed and alert if you sat in quiet contemplation."

Kirk raked in the cards. He started on down the hearts. He had a good hand and planned to take advantage of it. After a few times around the table he began to wonder where the last heart was. He tossed out a jack of diamonds with the sure knowledge that diamonds were run. The game went around and he was shocked when Soval tossed the queen of diamonds into the open.

"You cheated!" Kirk roared. "Diamonds were played out."

"You are mistaken," Soval answered in that characteristically unemotional tone. "I merely changed the conditions of the game." Soval pulled in the cards. He followed with the last heart.

Lasuda stood up abruptly. "Asfla'ga cheating Pointies!" he exclaimed.

"No one indicated to me that the so-called rules were fixed," Soval said.

"He has us there Kirk," Morgan said.

"You are siding with him?" Augustus asked. "And here I thought that me and you were an item."

The conference room communications' alert sounded. Morgan reached over to press the touch pad. Kirk was happy that he beat her to it. The bland New England accent of Lieutenant Commander Russell Hargreaves intruded on the group's card play with the news that Klingon vessels were on sensors. Morgan acknowledged the call and switched off.

"We crossed the border?" Kirk asked.

Moran looked at her chronometer. "Almost half an hour ago; but it was nothing to celebrate Mister Kirk. It is not like there are defined borders in space."

"Unless it comes to the Pointies," Lasuda said quietly.

"That'll be enough major," Morgan said as she stood up. She looked at all of them. "Let's see the face of the devil."

Odd choice of words," Kirk said as he rose and followed her out of the room. But he knew that she was right. The Klingons carried a sort of fear before them. Kirk could not put his finger on it yet he felt that Soval shared in some measure of that fear.

"Remember Kirk, this is a warrior race. They respect strength." Soval advised Kirk as the group made their way to Serendipity's bridge.

"I'm a little old for butting heads," Kirk answered. Soval had lectured him for hours on Klingon customs and courtesies. Augustus had concluded that Klingons had many customs; but few courtesies.

"Captain on deck!" the captain's executive officer bellowed. Hargreaves was a tall, thin officer who was closer to fifty than forty. Kirk knew that Morgan found her operations' officer a little on the stiff side.

"Yes, thank you Russ," Morgan said as she assumed the center seat; "for anyone who doesn't realize that I'm the captain after a whole month in this can." She motioned toward Kirk. "If you'll join me sir; I think that you are on."

"Radar range in two minutes," Ensign Karen Lockley declared. Kirk heard the young woman emit a low whistle. "They must be pushing their mams for all they are worth with power readings like these." Kirk looked at the presentations on the viewer. The data displayed beneath each meant little to him.

'As I indicated captain," Soval spoke up. "Klingons have been using matter anti matter for some time. However their safety protocols are questionable at best. A Klingon battle cruiser is just as likely to explode of its own volition in battle as it is to be a casualty of war."

"Drop out of warp and hail them using the frequencies that Minister Soval provided for us." Kirk felt no different as the ship stopped affecting the fabric of space before it.

"Video in twenty seconds captain," Lockley said. Kirk watched as Morgan caused the display to be changed to the blackness of space.

"A Vulcan ship can resolve sensor readings into a video image," Soval said. Kirk thought there was a certain amount of smugness in his statement. "Our ships can see an object from hundreds of thousands of your kilometers away."

"We're not on a Vulcan ship minister," Morgan answered tersely. "And your people have been reluctant to share that technology with anyone else."

"Except perhaps the pirates," Lasuda mumbled. Kirk could barely hear the Tellarite's words but he knew that Soval was more than able to hear them. Kirk was surprised to see the Vulcan outwardly wince slightly. He wondered what was happening on Soval's world.

"Text message," Chief Roger Calloway announced. "It is their version of linguacode. They demand to meet us. They want us to halt and stand ready to be boarded."

"Chief; answer the text with one of our own," Morgan instructed. "Tell them that we are here for our people; that a member of their High Council sent us information that we may enter their space to inquire after our people. Tell them that I'd be pleased to permit a small diplomatic party to board."

"Ten thousand kilometers captain," Lockley said.

"All stop," Morgan answered. "Let's see what the long range cams have for us."

"S'itola," Lasuda murmured. There were several other pronouncements of amazement from some of the others on the bridge.

Kirk saw what looked like a bloated, twenty-first century, jet aircraft. The only difference was that the nose as he guessed it was ended in a rather blunt protuberance; shaped like the head of an earth snake. Slung atop the wings as he called them was what he assumed were weapon attachment points: Each of the points had something mounted on them. Kirk watched as a bat-winged shuttle bolted from the craft. It gave him an idea of the size of the Klingon vessel. The shuttle rolled over in space as it got larger on the screen. The Klingon vessel executed a similar roll placing the plated wing section on top when viewed from Serendipity.

"Well that is one for the books I suppose," he said. "I always wondered how you people figured which side was up."

"That shuttle can't be carrying a large party," Lasuda declared.

"I would have some of those Star Fleet Marines of yours along Captain Morgan," Soval said.

"I doubt that shuttle could carry more than ten Klingons," Morgan answered. "You said they respect strength. I intend to show them that." She looked at Kirk. "You're with me." She said as she turned the bridge over to Lasuda.

"Same goes for you Smiley," Kirk said. "Next time we'll try poker again." Kirk grumbled; "change the condition of the game."

"I found that game most interesting," Soval answered. "But you changed the rules there yourself so I don't understand your distress over my approach to hearts."

When Kirk asked him what he meant the Vulcan explained: "Several times you lacked adequate cards to win the credits in the pot. Yet you continued playing leading the rest of us to believe that your hand was stronger than it really was."

"It's called bluffing," Kirk answered. He winced as his right knee started to throb. Shouldn't these cruisers have some more lifts he thought as the group descended the final ladder to the main shuttle bay?

Kirk rushed forward to press his face against the transparent aluminum of the bay hatch. He had to admit that he had a fascination with space travel; one that he did not know he had previously. He watched as the venomous looking shuttle entered the bay. It looked as lethal as the craft that had spawned it. Kirk watched as the outer pressure door closed and cavernous bay started pressurizing. Minutes later a tone announced that the pressure outside of the bay equaled that within.

Morgan led the group to the shuttle. A door slid open and out stepped a heavily armored Klingon. Kirk thought that the crinkled-headed alien wore a permanent scowl. Her long black hair was tied back in a severe ponytail. A Klingon male followed her. Kirk was not surprised to see the Klingons carrying sidearms. He was surprised, despite Soval's lectures, to see that the soldiers carried long knives. Kirk thought that whoever had said not to bring a knife to a gunfight probably had never seen a Klingon. A third Klingon was pushed out of the shuttle before another of the aliens.

Kirk heard a rough voice speaking and realized that he understood most of the words being spoken. The stresses were far more aggressive than those that had been employed under Soval's gentle tutelage. Kirk was picking through the strings of gutturals while he wondered if the Klingon that was being herded by the two others was one of their captured human marines. He looked at the man's heavy Asiatic features.

"Talk, Kirk!" the captain hissed.

"I'm Augustus Kirk—

"What have you humans done?" the male demanded rather than asked. The person who Kirk had taken for a human was flung onto the shuttle bay deck. Augustus determined that the being was not human. It was a male Kirk assumed; dressed in a cloth uniform that was somewhat similar in cut to the heavy armor that the two crinkle-headed aliens wore.

"What do you mean?" his reply was in the same voice that he would have used to respond to a bully; were he in the sixth grade.

"This abomination that your genetic castoffs have inflicted upon us!" the woman, a full head taller than Augustus bellowed. The Klingon was towering over him. Kirk could feel her hot breath upon his face; smell the last thing that she had eaten. Whatever it was didn't smell so bad.

"What do they mean? What is the meaning of this?" the captain asked sharply. Kirk could hear the frustration of her being excluded from the conversation by the language barrier.

"We have come for our warriors," Kirk retorted. "We know nothing of your troubles!"

"This pujwI' is the result of meddling human," the Klingon male asserted. The Klingon had pointed to the male who was slowly getting back on his feet. Kirk was still unsure what species the alien was. He fumbled over the Klingon's terminology.

"Weakling?" he asked.

The alien struck out at the male Klingon knocking him against the shuttle hull. The woman turned and swept the human looking male's legs out from under him. "I am Klingon!" the felled alien shouted defiantly.

"Enough!" Kirk roared back to them in their tongue. "I do not listen to the words of confused children; explain yourselves."

His abrasive exclamation and demands seemed to appeal to the Klingons who told Kirk the tale of the human looking Klingon. Kirk turned to Morgan after the Klingons had stopped talking.

"It never rains; but it pours," Kirk said to Morgan as she stood with her hands on her hips. "We've got a problem here."

The second planet of Ross 128, Dec 2157

"I've got Lieutenant Macpherson sir," Chief Peter Custis said. He handed Captain Michael Cromwell his handheld.

Cromwell listened to a transmission that he knew was being relayed from high atop a mountain to Daedelus then to the surface. "There was nothing out of the ordinary at first sir," the distorted voice of the head of that shore party blasted out of the handheld's tiny speaker. "But then we discovered a residual radiation signature—theta radiation." Cromwell immediately asked about the level; "Nothing dangerous; unless someone was to mill around here for thirty of forty years."

Cromwell nodded. That type of radiation was emitted by few naturally occurring phenomena. It was commonly emitted by warp engine throttle assemblies. Still; he had to consider other options. Custis had become more convinced that M'Altz've's neural network had to have come from outside knowledge. It certainly seemed a leap for a civilization to go from primitive crystal circuits to printed microcircuits.

"Theta radiation could be from other sources—sources we haven't considered." Cromwell knew that a captain's place was sometimes to exert restraint.

"Aye sir," Macpherson's voice returned. "We have been running up a mix of ideas and shooting them down. Then Chief Dawson discovered a piece of something that had come down here. It looks like the locals found the main impact site. But their methods didn't allow them to look further. We found a piece of a craft or device of some sort."

"I take it that it is not from here?" he asked.

"Definitely not captain," Macpherson answered. "The piece is heavily damaged; that is about all we can tell. The technology is something even superior to ours. It seems to have a power source; but what is generating it we don't know."

"Is it safe to take to Daedelus?" he asked. Cromwell had read enough speculative papers on what to do with superior technology. Much of it, written before the war, had emphasized a thorough examination of artifacts in preparation for exploitation. A more sober paper however had suggested caution: Who knew how a sophisticated alien device might react with their equipment.

"We've plugged it into the shuttle's test computer sir," Macpherson answered. Cromwell could hear the man's exasperation. "Sir; me and Ensign Lawson can barely recognize this thing as a device…probably electronic. I guess it is like a nineteenth century person examining one of our handheld computers. I think we could plug a rock into this thing with the same results if you get my meaning captain."

That disturbed Michael although it was something that every explorer had to face: One day they might encounter a race far in advance to those of the alliance. This seemed to pretty much confirm that M'Altz've's team had discovered something at the dig site. The trouble, Michael thought, was that just seeing a piece of technology did not mean that a primitive culture could start using it. His own Daedelus would be a mystery to nineteenth century engineers; just seeing it would not mean that a Horace Hunley could start producing fusion reactors.

"I understand," he answered at last. "If it is safe then take the object back to Daedelus. Do you have a decay rate for the theta radiation?"

"Just a guess sir," Macpherson replied. "The leakage could have started a thousand years after this thing was buried. But it looks like it was underground; leaking radiation out for at least two thousand years. It appears to be a two meter long object, maybe cylindrical."

"We'll look further Macpherson," Cromwell said. "Good job there. Continue poking around to see if you can find anything else—break Daedelus; did you do a radar search over this M'Altz've's estate?" he asked. H'Liq had once attended a function there and recalled that its rival's home did not hold any secret chambers; that H'Liq knew about.

Cromwell was examining the exterior of the Ro'ha scientist's place now. Much of it had been done in the typical ovoid type shell that the Ro'ha seemed to favor. The entire scene had a surreal gothic look to it: The small sun was sinking below the horizon of the blood red sky plunging the already dark landscape into almost total darkness. Cromwell adjusted the intensity of his night vision glasses.

"There is a large chamber beneath the main house sir," Lisa Somers voice replaced that of Macpherson's. "It is much larger than a basement." Dieulafoy had mentioned that the Ro'ha, like humans built basements in some of their residences. He inquired about radiation but knew that the shuttle's monitoring equipment was not precise enough to monitor low level theta radiation emissions.

"Very good," he answered. "We'll keep the link open commander. We are about to make a house call."

Cromwell along with H'Liq, Custis, Dieulafoy and Trudy Schultheiss were adorned in the long winter traveling cloaks favored by the Ro'ha. Michael was glad that the streets were relatively empty. Their appearance was masked under their cloaks and hoods but they did not move like Ro'ha. Schultheiss had suggested that they use a shuffling glide but after several clumsy attempts Cromwell had abandoned that idea. Schultheiss had chided him and told him that she would teach him to dance. They had only a few steps to go to the doctor's residence. They faded quickly into the darkness beneath the squat, yet thin umbrella like trees of the planet.

H'Liq made noises of exclamation. "I don't need the device to tell me that was a warning," Cromwell said.

"He said to look out for a m'louv'n," Dieulafoy answered at last.

"What the devil is that?" he asked.

A loud rustle was followed by what Cromwell mind's interpreted as a squat round land going shark. The snarling meter and a half long beast made a rush at the shore party until it was pulled up short by a chain. Cromwell and his people had run back and now turned to see the beast struggling against its chain to get at them.

"Don't bother with the translation Mister Dieulafoy," Cromwell said. "I believe dog will suffice." Cromwell looked around. Their hand stunners would generate a plasma charge that should quiet the animal: It would also create a light show. He watched as Schultheiss took a dark mass from her travel pouch. She carefully removed its wrapping. An odor of rotten meat nearly caused Cromwell to gag.

"This should put the hound to sleep," she said as she tossed the mass at the animal. It stopped barking, although Michael thought that braying might be a better term, at them. The beast looked rather than smelled the proffered food. Cromwell remembered Trudy telling him that many of Ross' animal inhabitants relied upon their vision over their olfactory glands. They waited until the animal ate. It keeled over a few minutes later.

"Splendid doctor," Cromwell declared. He took out the hand stunner as he led his party forward. He knew that, should he have to use it, the flash would attract attention. But an animal bite would not do. The beast had looked like it could do serious damage to a limb.

Cromwell was relived to see that his actions weren't warranted as the team approached a back entrance to M'Altz've's estate. No more guard animals threatened them. Cromwell peered into the dwelling's windows. A door slid open causing him to level the fist sized stunner toward the new threat.

"I have been expecting you Captain Cromwell," Mariel Picard declared quietly.

Dieulafoy stepped away from the group and angled toward the woman. "Giselle, I am happy to see you!"

She backed away from the Frenchman. Cromwell was struck by her gliding step. He put it down to being immersed in an alien culture. He had begun to pick up on H'Liq's grunts and twitters in the time he had spent with the alien. Cromwell stepped forward more hesitantly.

"You have some explaining to do Miss Picard," he said simply.

"Of course captain," she replied; "and do come in. We show as luminous beings to the Ro'ha. It is my hope that you meet M'Altz've and think about a different way of ensuring that the Ro'ha survive." She beckoned them to follow her into the residence. "Come this way."

"I'm not sure that we can ensure their survival miss," Cromwell said.

"Not with rockets and warp drives," she stopped and turned to Schultheiss. "I know that you have done the calculations doctor."

"We can also teach them hydroponics as well as advanced biochemical methodologies," Schultheiss answered. "That would perhaps give them the time they needed to build starships." They wound their way down a stony spiral staircase.

"Do you think that we can build starships in fifty years Doctor Schultheiss?" an odd melodious voice piped.

Cromwell stepped out onto the landing to allow the rest of his group into the large underground chamber. They were confronted by a Ro'ha slightly shorter than H'Liq. Two weeks ago Cromwell would have been unable to tell the two apart. Now the aliens looked as distinct to him as Schultheiss did to Dieulafoy or Custis. Cromwell realized that the reedy voice had come from the Ro'ha. He was astounded by the alien's obvious grasp of a terran language. How had that happened so quickly he wondered?

"What does fifty years matter?" Dieulafoy had overcome his shock at he alien's language ability.

Both Picard and the alien looked at Schultheiss. "My estimates are that major crop failures will start in twenty years." She bowed her head. "Food rationing will start shortly thereafter. The general pattern, if earth and at least Tellarite history are any indicators is that the various governments will exasperate the situation by withholding food from their people. The frequent famines in Africa stopped after democratic republics replaced the dictatorships. But earth and Tellar had the ability to grow food to support their populations. Ross will not have that. In fifty years there will be general planetwide famine. The crop failures will increase killing the surface animal life."

"My race has already fought a war over imperial ambitions," the Ro'ha declared.

"This is Doctor M'Altz've," Picard said in introduction.

"Miss Picard has told me of your brave crew captain," the alien said. It extended its tentacle-like limb in a most human gesture. Cromwell took the appendage after some hesitation. "Our speculative fiction writers have written of visitors from other worlds. Most mirror our own follies. You really have two sexes; amazing. It would be interesting watching you reproduce."

"Your command of one of our languages is most astounding," Dieulafoy said mirroring Cromwell's feeling on that matter.

"Personally I like reproducing in private," Schultheiss declared with a grin. "But the lieutenant is correct. Your skill in English is excellent given that you've had a little over a week to learn it."

"I share Miss Picard's gift for languages," M'Altz've answered. "But even were I to speak in Ant'lel it would not change the facts: My people are heading for extinction. We could possibly build ships to escape but do you Captain Cromwell think that we could build the vessels necessary to save more than the few?"

"Your system contains a series of asteroids," Cromwell answered. "You could make a space vehicle out of those. You could push out at relativistic speeds at first and use warp drives as you create them." Cromwell felt argumentative but he doubted that advanced science could save these people. He knew that he was anthropomorphizing but he suspected that the nation states' various politicians would not fall behind the effort that would be needed. "I take it that you have a different idea?" he asked.

The Ro'ha turned and glided over to a far wall. M'Altz've slid open a section of the wall which was much lighter than it looked apparently. Cromwell and his team were presented with the presence of a perfectly smooth cylinder; at least three meters tall and one wide. The device's metal skin was perfectly smooth. It was obvious to Michael that this was not a product of Ro'ha science.

"The alien device," Cromwell said quietly.

"Mariel told me that you had flying machines capable of settling atop Mount H'Mqlt'ze." The alien touched the side of the cylinder. The spot where its tentacle touched changed into what Cromwell suspected was an instrument panel. "But that would not make you the first visitors here; though I have come to suspect that this device has never held a living being in it."

"You learned to operate it?" Cromwell asked. He was beginning to rethink his idea concerning the aliens' abilities.

"You people from other worlds have a term; luck," M'Altz've explained. "The progression of random chance; I experienced some luck. The team discovered the object almost at the end of our expedition. Of course we could not activate. Truthfully I've only just established the device's purpose since Mariel joined me."

"It's a probe captain," Picard added. "Reminiscent of our Friendship One, only it is on a far more sophisticated level."

"Sophisticated enough to teach me some of its workings," M'Altz've said.

"You just told me you've only begun to understand how it works," Cromwell retorted. He wondered how M'Altz've could understand the English language as well as it apparently did. He knew that some Vulcan language masters had set about learning all of the earth languages in less than a terran year. Was this the case here he wondered?

The alien seemed to glean some of Cromwell's thoughts. "I learned less than you might imagine captain. I assumed that it was a sort of knowledge stone. I mean obviously we did not make it. I thought that the race that had may have intended the finders to learn from the machine."

"So you just walked up to the device and started learning," Cromwell said. He wondered if the alien could hear the irony in his voice. He tried to recall the name of the holovid remake of a twentieth century tale of space explorers and a scientist who had tapped into a database of alien knowledge.

"The device seemed to compel me to do so captain," M'Altz've answered. "Luck again; I fumbled about when I discovered this control mechanism. Miss Picard tells me it is an access port." Cromwell heard grunts and squawks from the other Ro'ha scientist in the chamber. Dieulafoy translated some minutes later. "H'Liq says that this must be the source of M'Altz've's speculations. I suspect that he is saying wild speculations. The doctor says that science must provide real solutions for the future of the Ro'ha and not vest their hopes in fantasy."

"But we can survive as a group consciousness." M'Altz've's tentacles were moving rapidly as it spoke. "Our nations will not use your advanced science in an attempt to build starships captain. It may well start the war again."

"Group consciousness?" he asked pointedly.

"The brain is a collection of electrical impulses," the scientist explained. "I believe that I can harness that electrical energy; the essence of the individual. Miss Picard tell me you call it soul."

"The soul," Schultheiss corrected. "But you mentioned a group mind; cannot the individual be preserved?"

"I see that I've sparked your curiosity doctor," M'Altz've answered.

Cromwell thought that the alien showed a positively human twitter. "You don't really believe that is possible, do you Trudy?" he asked her.

"You've read the Frawling report Herr Kapitan," Schultheiss answered. "We do not as yet possess the computers to do as M'Altz've suggests. But our computers are hundreds of times more capable than they were just a century ago."

"The doctor is correct captain," Picard said. "But M'Altz've's technique does not allow for the storage of an individual mind."

"Storage?" he asked. He was greatly disturbed by that term. "Is being stored, if that is possible, is that any kind of life?"

"I have done it captain!" the Ro'ha declared. Cromwell thought about that until H'Liq's exclamations arose. He realized that Dieulafoy had translated what M'Altz've had just said. "The essence of what we are will survive." The Ro'ha seemed to caress the alien machine. "This machine taught me how to build the circuits of an advanced neural network. We do not have the devices necessary to build storage vessels. But I came upon the idea of harnessing a self-sustaining reaction.

"The storms as we thought them captain," Picard interjected; "they are Ro'ha whose essences were converted. I believe that the matrix necessary to facilitate a group of single minds is beyond even the machine's knowledge. They are stored as co-mingled energies."

"And how is that you know they are even alive?" he asked.

He could not read M'Altz've's body language: He was still unfamiliar with Ro'ha intonations physical and non-physical. Picard's body language said much however. He gave her a hard look.

"Doctor M'Altz've has tapped into the group mind," she answered simply.

"So you ran off in support of the doctor's ideas?" Cromwell asked the woman.

She was awhile in answering. Finally she replied: "I studied M'Altz've's theories. I felt that you were not giving them a fair hearing. What I did was spurious; I admit that. But this is not an academic debate. In all likelihood the Ro'ha will be extinct in two perhaps three human generations. We have the power to save them."

"They are obviously afraid of being," Cromwell paused searching for the right word. "Absorbed," he said. His voice was dripping with disgust. "I do not know what the doctor here has done. But I do know that the Ro'ha deserve a choice." What would he choose he asked himself? Would he choose slow death and the death of his progeny over becoming a part of some group mind; never to have individuality again?

"I'm sorry that I ran away captain," Picard said, intruding on Cromwell's dark thoughts. "I will return now. I just want you to listen to what M'Altz've has to say."

"Yes captain," M'Altz've said. "I would ask that you listen to both me and my contemporary. Then ask yourself Cromwell; what gives my race the best chance to have a future."

Cromwell wasn't even sure that he should interfere. The camel's nose was under the tent for that, he thought: He had already given H'Liq paper charts and books detailing the process of fission. With those he had sent along data on rocketry and gyro control systems. He knew that those things had been designed by twentieth century earthmen: Those discoveries should be in reach of the Ro'ha of today.

"Very well," Cromwell answered agreeably. He turned to H'Liq. "Ask the doctor if he wishes to go off planet," he instructed Dieulafoy. The translation device started its task when M'Altz've intruded with a rapid stream of his native language. H'Liq soon replied.

"The doctor says that it would be his extreme pleasure to see his world from space," Dieulafoy read the reply carefully.

"Excellent," Cromwell answered. He eyed the alien device warily. "May we examine it before we depart Doctor?" he asked M'Altz've. When the Ro'ha answered in the affirmative he beckoned Schultheiss to his side. "If you would doctor; perhaps a medical approach to this strange machine will yield some answers for us." He instructed the rest of his party to prepare for departure. He and his surgeon walked behind the device. They were alone in the chamber as the rest of the group had made their way upstairs.

"You wish an examination of Miss Picard?" Schultheiss asked without ceremony.

"You've read my mind Trudy," he answered softly. He intended this conversation only for the doctor's ears. "Make it a most thorough one."

"Yah," she answered. She stopped looking at the device and looked directly in his eyes. "Is this wise Olly? I mean taking aliens aboard like this. I suppose you will allow them some freedom of movement?"

"Of course," he answered. Man had been introduced to the Andorians and Tellarites by the Vulcans. The Denobulans were encountered at a trade conference hosted on Tellar. With few exceptions Stellar Navy vessels were not set up for diplomatic first contact missions. "Consult with Taln: Make whatever environmental modifications you deem necessary. I'll vacate my quarters and have Lisa do the same with hers."

He chuckled. She asked him what was so funny. "We have the largest quarters on Daedelus and yet they are about the fifth of the size of a luxury hotel room; some VIP quarters!" Cromwell had been pleased with spaciousness of his cabin when he had first toured his command. He actually had three steps from his fold down bed to his desk.

"You can stay with me if you are uncomfortable, Herr Kapitan," Schultheiss said with a sly grin on her lips. Michael could feel his face heating up.

"Don't joke—I may take you up on that doctor!" he said. Cromwell had grown less restrained during this long voyage. He had begun to think of his crew as family. Of course he knew the dangers inherit in that: He may one day have to send one of his "relatives" to die.

"Seriously though," he started as he looked around to ensure that they were still alone; "Picard seems to have a thorough grasp of their language and this M'Altz've has a grasp of ours. Of course she does have a gift for language but…did you happen to catch how she moved when we first came to the house?"

Schultheiss nodded. "Of course she has been among the Ro'ha for over week now. But still I am suspicious as well. Her relationship with Crosby; she seems to be a person who might fall under the control of another quite easily."

"We should make our way up now," he answered. Crosby was an unpleasant reminder that humans still had a long way to go in some matters. He turned to her as they headed towards the curving walkway. "Would you prefer to survive at all costs Trudy?"

She sighed; "even if meant my soul? All I could think about was my Lutheran parents. They only attended church during the holidays but the values were there. The notion of surviving as some sort of floating electrical signal…" He watched as she shuddered. "What if there is an afterlife Olly? Will these Ro'ha move on to that or live in some sort of hellish perpetuity?"

"You were supposed to clear all of this up fro me!" he exclaimed. A slight grin showed on his face. Still; he was disturbed by what he had heard here today. He thought over Vulcan rules concerning first contacts and interference with primitive cultures. His primary mission here was nearly over: The harvesting crews had gathered more than enough plant matter for resequencing. He needed to get on his way to earth with his findings concerning the Birdies.

Instead Michael was facing a moral crux: Should he help a race that might well be extinct by the end of his twenty-second century? What would happen were he to have left the Ro'ha to their devices, he wondered? He sighed.

"That is why you are the captain," Schultheiss declared. She leaned over and stopped him; landing a kiss on his lips. He was impressed with how tall and lovely she was. They continued on to the top of the ramp.

Andorian Imperial Guard Cruiser Kumari, in the Beta Hydri system, Earth year Dec 2157

"Are they still within range?" Captain Gordon Albright asked. He ran a hand through his close cut black hair. He saw that it was becoming peppered with some gray these days.

"Radar still has them trailing us captain," Saln reported. Albright's Andorian first stood a full head taller than did the human. Added to that height was an impressive set of antennae.

Four earth days since Albright's Andorian Guard cruiser had tracked a large formation of Romulan warships. They could only be from Topaz. The large fleet movement was vital information for Star Fleet. Topaz, Albright knew, would be a tough enough nut to crack as it was. Star Fleet had still been unable to find a solution for the Romulans' ability to destroy the new subspace sensors. Albright knew that it was a matter of an infinite propagation of jamming signals. Subspace mechanics had given a younger Gordon his biggest headaches at his Ottawa military academy.

Gordon absently scratched at the growth of beard on his normally clean-shaven chin. "Time till Arethan?" he asked. He used the Andorian name for the star. Saln supplied Gordon with the data along with a question about their future.

"These five ships are herding us I suspect," Albright answered. "I want to turn and fight."

"Admirable," Saln said. "You will end up in the halls of Gurthwin captain. I hadn't planned on going there for sometime myself."

Albright chuckled at Saln's dry humor. "I don't intend on exploring space beyond either." He walked over to the bridge astrogation station. Albright liked the Andorian approach of a three dimensional viewer on a tabletop surface. It made planning far easier. He activated the station's controls causing an image of Beta Hydri to appear above the table. He caused the fourth planet to grow in size.

"Once past the fifth planet I want us to release drive plasma and slow," he explained his scheme to his first officer. The weapons' officer Zenna strolled over to listen as well. She was a short, squat Andorian: Unusual for an Andorian female. She had also made overtures towards Albright; also not unusual for an Andorian female.

"What speed sir?" Zenna asked.

"Confer with Monimos Graz," he replied. "I want the Birds to be in firing range of us when we arrive over the fourth planet. Prepare missiles tubes for rapid fire." Zenna went about her duties after an appraising glance at Albright. She left the bridge.

"She is very forward," Albright said.

"Not your typical pink-skin woman?" his first officer answered. "You should indulge sir. Such a thing is normal among Andorians."

Albright's eyes followed her path off of the bridge. It had been a long time for him in that department. He was stuck on human conventions however. It would be unseemly were a Stellar Navy officer to boff one of his subordinates. He chuckled as he recalled his grandfather's use of that ancient slang. It sounded like a similar word in Andorian that referred to an iceberg's hardness. He looked again toward the bridge exit hatch.

"We have a little time before I put my plan to the test," he said. He tugged at his Stellar Navy jacket and headed off of the bridge.

"Remember Doctor Cochrane's words sir," Chief Crowder. Albright knew that the sometimes boisterous enlisted man had a clever innuendo in wait. He sometimes thought about brevetting the man as a punishment. "To boldly go where no man has gone before."

"I would allow you to have a sexual fantasy chief," Albright answered. "But I plan on having a meal in the dining chamber—by myself." He looked at Saln. "The bridge is yours, first. Please advise me if there are any changes."

Albright planned on dining and relaxing for next two earth hours. He still found it hard to adjust to the slightly shorter Andorian time units. He had slipped into using that alien language though. The few humans on Kumari seldom used any of the terran languages; even among themselves. Albright stalked over to the small dining area. A few seats were strewn about as a courtesy to the humans as Andorians stood while eating meals. Albright, however found himself standing. He accepted a meal of Andorian needlefish and warm vegetables. He discovered that he was ravenous. The last four days of pursuit had taken its toll upon him.

He wondered how the war was going. Gordon had been relieved that Strategos Antor had assigned Kumari back to patrol duty for the new Star Fleet. Vulcan was probably feeling the heat from the new alliance. How long could Vulcan straddle this fence that they had chosen? He knew that President Thorpe was committed to the defense of Andor. The Vulcans should realize that as well he hoped. He finished the last of his fish and walked his dish to the recycler. He found this chamber with its bright blue lights to be one of his favorite places aboard his ship.

Crewmembers destined for the next watch poured in; a few at first, then in greater numbers. They crowded around Albright but remained respectfully silent. He found himself explaining his plan to engage the Romulans. Andorian captains were the rallying point for the crew. They were badly outgunned but they could soon find themselves both outgunned and squeezed between two engulfing forces.

"We have shown that we can out maneuver the pirates," Albright started in conclusion. He realized that the time was near at hand. "Our ships are better. But more than that, this is the finest crew of the Imperial Guard, of Star Fleet. We have survived to fight another time and we shall continue to do so. Let us send the pirates to the netherworld!"

Albright departed among much fanfare as the battle alert klaxon sounded. Gordon missed the bellowing sound of a Stellar Navy alert. Andorian ears were far more sensitive such that the alarm sounded to Gordon like a low note blown on a tuba. Albright dodged among the narrow passageways until he stood before the bridge hatch. It opened ponderously to allow him inside.

Albright seated himself in the center seat. "Calculate a low orbit entry over the planet Graz," he ordered. "Chief Crowder; please display the planet on video." The image of the barren soon dominated the bridge viewer. The system's yellow, orange sun reflected off of a surface of highly polished nickel iron.

"It is confounding the radar sir," Crowder reported. Albright knew that he meant the planet beneath. He had been counting on it. He asked about their pursuers. "They are slowing sir." He waited while Crowder studied the subspace radar returns. "Looks like the pirates are breaking up; maybe trying to flank us against the planet."

"They suspect something," Saln said.

"As would I," Albright said. He turned to Zenna after checking his ship's course and speed. "Missiles away!" he roared.

Seconds later she replied: "Missiles on the fly along programmed trajectory captain."

The elegant Andorian heavy cruiser vanished behind the rim of the metallic world. The bright sun revealed the small dots of three Sabinus and two Veronus class cruisers. The Romulan ships separated into a diamond-like formation. A Veronus and Sabinus split from the main group in an attempt to meet the Star Fleet ship as it rounded the planet.

Eight pinpoints emerged into the path of the oncoming Romulans that had broken from the group. The ships launched neutronium pellets into the flight path of the missiles but too late. The Romulan cruisers ended their existence in a blinding conflagration. More missiles came over the horizon of the small desolate world. The surviving Romulans avoided those with a combination of maneuvers and counter measures. Most of Kumari's missiles were shredded in flurries of solid neutronium while a few spiraled past their intended targets.

Kumari emerged over the world's northern pole; firing missiles as she approached one of the Romulan vessels. The Sabinus had become isolated from its mate in its commander's frantic efforts to avoid the Andorian missiles. Kumari blazed away with its rail guns. The green cruiser was severely holed. It rolled over gently before perishing in a blast of atomic fire.

"The last chowder has been hit." Crowder yelped in victory.

"They computed their time and distance triangles based on free space." Albright grinned.

"I never would have suspected the pirates to succumb to a kuma maneuver," Saln said. Albright searched his Andorian vocabulary; kuma was an ancient mariner term that referred a harpoon thrown with much accuracy. "This slingshot of yours has some appeal."

"Our old unmanned explorer craft used it a great deal," Albright answered. "Modern vessels seldom use it since engines have become so powerful."

"I suspect that they had just time enough to wonder how our weapons moved at a greater speed than they had thought possible," Saln said with some satisfaction in his voice.

"We needn't stay around to guess, first," he answered. "Proceed along a line tangent to our course for Deep Space One. Cruise out for one light year then we'll return slowly to our destination. My guess is that some more of the pirates are waiting for us if we follow our old heading."

"That'll take some time captain," his first officer answered.

Albright sighed. He had vital information for Star Fleet. He needed to deliver that; but more than that he had not been to earth in some time. His last voyage there he had stayed aboard his ship to help in the overhaul efforts. Albright knew the value that a port call for a fighting ship had. The Imperial Guard had left a store of Kez'rac missiles at Utopia Planitia. Albright had wanted to replenish his supply. But that had let little time for him to visit earth.

"There is nothing for it, first," he said at last. He knew that his Andorian crew had been away from their home as well. "Make the necessary course changes."