Chapter One

"You have one hour to decide," Donatella coldly proclaimed.

Macen made the "cut" gesture with his hand and the main viewscreen reverted to its image of the 3 Warbirds. He turned to Riker and Zyrain. Zyrain was an easy read. He wanted to capitulate. What was P'ris' life when his own was on the line?

"Suggestions, Captain?" Macen inquired.

Riker's expression was rueful, "They waited until the rest of the Outbound Ventures ships deployed."

Macen looked to P'ris, "Actually, I think that was her idea."

P'ris was totally abashed, "I thought privacy would be necessary."

"Why?" Macen was insanely curious as to her reasoning.

"To insure that my debriefing was conducted in secret," P'ris explained.

Macen's expression was pained, "Let me reiterate something I seem to have to explain to the entire quadrant: I am not Starfleet. Standing, lawful procedures dealing with Romulan defectors, that's you by the way, stipulate that all defecting personnel are to be debriefed and interviewed by Starfleet and the Federation Security Agency."

"But I am requesting asylum," P'ris had a slightly hunted look in her eyes and with good reason.

"P'ris, I don't have the authority to grant it," Macen hated to admit.

"Then you will have to turn me over," P'ris barely whispered.

"Sorry, but that's not an option," Macen suddenly interjected.

Now it was P'ris' turn to be utterly curious, "What do you mean?"

"I may not have the legal authority to grant you asylum but I have the legal authority to grant you protection," Macen declared.

"But how?" P'ris wondered, confused by the intertwining list of rules, regulations, and by-laws within the Federation. In the Star Empire she was considered something of a lawyer but here? The Federation had conflicting laws that negated one another and they called that reasonable.

"You hire me," he said simply.

"Excuse me?" P'ris was completely boggled by now.

"I can protect you if I have a contract," Macen explained, "The Federation and Starfleet will back virtually any move I make in protection of a client. I don't usually take on bodyguard work but in your case I'll make an exception."

She caught the teasing tone of his final words, "Why, thank you."

"Now we just need to settle on a price," Macen said with a mercenary gleam in his eye.

"I have very little. I had to leave post haste and could not retrieve all of my intended provisions," she explained.

"Do you have a slip of latinum?" he inquired.

"A few thousand," she admitted.

"I only need one," he replied. She fished a slip out of her pants' pocket and handed it over.

Macen shook her hand, "All right, now we work for you."

P'ris adopted a bemused expression, "I could get used to that idea."

"Don't," Macen advised, "We're here to protect you, not take orders from you."

"As long as we're not taking orders, can we at least take some advice?" Riker urged.

Macen shot him a wry glance while P'ris gently laughed, "I would suggest that you deploy the Obsidian. By adjusting your weaponry's harmonics to that of the station's shields, you should be able to double the station's firepower until Starfleet arrives."

"I'll get Bryce onto recalling the crew. You get the weapons data," Macen instructed.

"Have Bryce recall Shannon and Jaycee first," Riker requested.

Macen gave him a quizzical look so Riker elaborated, "I need Jaycee in place so she can adapt the weapons and Shannon needs to organize the recall until I can come aboard and help her."

"Will you be going aboard as well, Commander?" P'ris asked pointedly Macen.

"I don't know if it'll be necessary but I'd like to be aboard in case we have to draw off the Warbirds from the station," Macen admitted.

"In order to accomplish that you will need me aboard as well," P'ris said logically.

"I don't know how effectively I can guard you aboard the Obsidian," he confessed.

"Where you go, I go as well," she decided.

That amused Macen, "That could get quite awkward later this evening. Supposing we get to rest at all."

P'ris wore a sly smile, "Because of the nature of the relationship between you and Detective Rockford?"

"There is that," Macen confirmed it, "And she goes by 'Celeste'."

"I prefer 'Detective Rockford'," P'ris obstinately replied.

"Ooo-kay," Macen digested that, "If you're going where I go then we need to get to my offices."

P'ris waved him on towards the turbolift.


Macen found Bryce still at her desk. She'd assumed that a recall would be underway and had already set the wheels in motion. Shannon Forger had left instructions to be passed on to any wayward crewmen. Despite her show of bravery and resourcefulness, Macen could tell Bryce was scared out of her mind.

"It's going to be okay, Bryce," He assured her in a gentle voice.

"Is she a Romulan?" Bryce wondered with a mix of awe and fear.

"Yes, she is," Macen confirmed it.

"She dresses like T'Kir," Bryce noted.

Macen grinned, "T'Kir got her customary attire from the Tal Shiar. P'ris is a Commander in the Tal Shiar and therefore entitled to wear it as well."

"Tal Shiar?" Bryce hesitantly whispered, "Isn't she here to spy on us?"

"Relax, Bryce," Macen urged, "P'ris is a friend and she's here so she can defect."

"That's why we're surrounded. So they can stop you from leaving and getting her to Earth," Bryce surmised.

"You were born for the business," Macen complimented her.

"I suppose you're the cause of this?" Rockford bantered as she entered the office.

"You could truly say I am," P'ris allowed.

"Oh, get the industrial sized wedgie out of your knickers," Rockford demanded, "I'm only teasing. Someone's gonna confuse you for a Vulcan at this rate."

"Elements forefend," P'ris dryly remarked.

"Is that where you got that expression?" Rockford suddenly inquired of Macen.

"Actually, she stole it from me," Macen defensively asserted.

"You truly wish," P'ris huffed.

"All right!" Rockford snapped, "You two remind me of my brother and sister. Don't make me get mom, that's all I'm saying."

Macen knew that last statement was the result of a major breakthrough. Celeste Rockford had never had brothers or sisters. She had no memories of them because she hadn't existed until ten years ago and had emerged into the world fully formed.

Rockford was one of a plethora of personalities that Annika Ryst had created. As an Angosian Augment Infiltrator, Ryst had utilized the personalities to accomplish her wartime missions. She and the rest of the varying personalities had recently been fused together, into the template that was Rockford. Whereas, Rockford had always possessed gaping holes in her memory from moments when other personalities controlled their shared body, now she remembered everything. Truth be told, they weren't even Rockford's siblings but Ryst's. But she had those memories now as well as the emotions that went with them.

Most of Ryst's personalities had been developed to infiltrate Tarsusian installations and had been crafted so as to pass the psy-scanners. Once she was inside, her orders were simplicity itself. She was to kill every man and woman that occupied that post and clear the way for other Angosian units to sweep it.

Needless to say, all of those memories were harsh and brutal. Rockford was having a hard time coping with them. She'd been the gestalt's sole non-combatant and now she had a lifetime's worth of memories of the most savage forms of violence.

Still, she was grateful. If this was the price to pay for her continued existence, then she would bear this burden and carry on the memories of her fellow "sisters". Annika Ryst had been the template but the poor broken down creature sacrificed her existence so Rockford could live. All of the other personalities had willingly let go in order to preserve Rockford.

Rockford had a noble purpose in life, she was well respected amongst her peers, and she had the love of one Brin Macen. None of the others could even marginally compete. She was chosen because she simply had the most to live for.

P'ris knew nothing of any of this. Romulan Intelligence records regarding Celeste Rockford suggested a connection between her the then-fugitive, and now presidentially pardoned, Annika Ryst. Rockford's professional credentials and background checks had been easy to obtain. Her client list, obtained from a disgruntled employee, had proven illuminating. Her agency was one the most prestigious in Federation space and she herself was among the most highly sought private investigators.

Her selling a 49% share in the company to Outbound Ventures' banner had only brought the Rockford Agency under the corporate wing, which gave them access to resources that they'd only dreamt of before. The only catch, Rockford herself was on permanent retainer and worked for Macen's Special Investigations Division team. That could hardly be called an onerous burden now.

Rockford would soon be on the receiving end of far more scrutiny from the Tal Shiar and the Typhon Pact's intelligence organs. She'd single handedly saved the Alpha and Beta Quadrants from the scourge of the prickly Argyn. That Elder Race had nearly wiped out half of Starfleet's assets. The Klingons had lost nearly a third of their forces. The Cardassians got off comparatively lightly with a quarter loss of forces. The Ferengi merely lost less than a quarter but they were yelling to anyone that would listen that they bore the brunt of the conflict.

P'ris knew the situation for the Typhon Pact nations had been just as devastating. The Star Empire had suffered a loss of over fifty percent of their forces. The Tholians survived with a 25% casualty rating. The Tzenkethi bore little of the weight, having only lost a few hundred ships. The Breen were reeling from a loss of a third of their fleet. The Kinshaya wouldn't even share their data but it was considered to be catastrophic. But perhaps the greatest blow was dealt to the Gorn.

The Gorn were still seeking a crèche world for their warrior caste. No new hatchlings could be nurtured until a world with very precise requirements was found and so far the Gorn had searched for three years with no success. When the current generation of warriors died, the Hegemony would be left with no more protectors. That's why their loss of half of their fleet was a national crisis. The Hegemony had been placed on high alert until further notice.

They felt that the Federation would launch outward from Cestus III and ravage the Gorn worlds, taking them by force against their mortally weakened foe. So in preparation for this "certain" event, the Gorn were preparing invasion plans of their own. Cestus III would be theirs again even if the Metron had to be damned. Almost twenty border worlds were in the crosshairs.

P'ris had tried to exert her considerable influence into allaying the Gorns' fears. Her superiors saw another scenario. They saw a weakened and shattered Gorn Hegemony as a client nation. Stripped of status as a founding member of the Typhon Pact, the Gorn would become the Empire's proxy. Of course, in exchange for favors, the Romulans would secure the Hegemony's borders and would aid in the search for a crèche world. Of course, none would ever be found.

P'ris had begun to be disillusioned with the Tal Shiar's policies with the Gulag episode and the utter betrayal of the Rihannsu movement. She'd founded those colonies and thousands had followed her only to be slaughtered by the very government that had promised them safety. A true survivor, she managed to move beyond that episode and removed the blot from her record.

Koval had personally persuaded her after the government had once again been found complacent in wholesale illegalities and treacheries. He'd been a mentor to her and she'd sensed that there was a discreet message behind his words. She hadn't known it at the time but he was grooming her to take his place, not as Chairman of the Tal Shiar but of his "other life".

Later he'd revealed that he was an informant and occasional operative for the clandestine Federation agency known as Section 31. He urged her to pick up his banner for he only had a decade left to live because of his being afflicted with Tuvan Syndrome. Little had he realized that Shinzon's coup would take his life before his life naturally expired. It was just as well, she supposed, for the Hobus incident would have killed him even if Shinzon had spared him.

Truth be told, she'd only survived because she'd reviewed the "treasonous" data that Starfleet had provided Macen and he in turn had handed over to P'ris. It predicted the supernova that later destroyed her birth world.

P'ris had formed an underground that got several million Romulans off of Romulus and to the colony worlds. Initially the colonies nearly lost viability under the strain of so many new settlers but her people had not only survived, they now flourished.

Rather than received accolades for her efforts, P'ris was hauled aside and told to toe the party line or perish. She'd inquired as to which party line needed toeing. A meeting with Proconsul Sela soon brought to light that her sympathies for the Gorn and her objections to the Imperial plans for them were seditious.

Barely escaping Sela's offices alive, P'ris contacted Admiral Amanda Forger through a back channel Macen had provided her with. She unveiled all of the Star Empire's plans and ambitions. She then turned a disruptor onto her comm/comp and ran for her life. Seeing peace forcers waiting for her at her domicile, she slipped away and left in a military shuttle she's "acquired" during the Hobus exodus. Its ID transponders and locator devices were all disabled. She'd only made it to Serenity first because she'd left Imperial space several days before her pursuers.


"Stay strong, Bryce," Macen urged, "You can do this."

"What...what if the Romulans board the station?" she tentatively asked.

"Head for Sickbay," Macen grinned, "Kort'll chop off the head of any Romulan trooper who tries to molest you. And the Infirmary is near the Security Office, so the security team will deploy from there."

Her face suddenly blossomed into a grateful smile, "Thanks."

"Remember, we'll be aboard the Obsidian," he reminded her, "If things get too hairy, give us a call."

Bryce shuddered, "I thought that Lantillian incident was bad. I've heard horror stories about the Romulans."

She looked to P'ris with some embarrassment, "No offense."

P'ris wore a predatory smile, "None taken. And the stories are all true."

"What?" Bryce yelped.

Macen ushered P'ris out of the room, "See you later. Take care."

But in the corridor, Macen began to lecture P'ris; "That was uncalled for. She's a very frightened young woman."

"Like you would not have done the same under the same circumstances," P'ris scoffed.

Macen knew she had him, "It was still rude."

"Children," Rockford suddenly said, "do I have to separate you?"

"Perhaps," P'ris sniffed.


Riker placed the Strategic Affairs Officer in command and the Tactical team manned the weapons and prepared for the worst. He left Ops and headed for Upper Pylon 2 where the Obsidian was docked. He caught Macen, Rockford, and P'ris at the hatch.

"Brin, Commander P'ris, I'd like you to come to the bridge and serve as advisors to the Senior Staff," Riker requested.

"My knowledge of Romulan tactics is negligible at best," Macen admitted.

"Yes, I know," Riker admitted, "But she won't come to the bridge without you."

Macen looked to P'ris, who merely smiled and said, "Precisely."

Macen barely resisted an exaggerated eye roll, "We'll go to the bridge then."

"What about me?" Rockford asked impishly.

Macen's expression turned quite mischievous, "You're coming too."

Rockford smiled as P'ris' jaw dropped. Macen gave her a victorious smile, "You said you wanted to protection. Celeste will double the amount of your coverage."

"I'm so certain she will," P'ris was heard to mutter.


The bridge was a flurried hub of activity. Forger had everyone at their stations. Riker was pleased to see his wife at the Sciences station.

Lisea Danan was a Trill with eight lifetimes worth of experience. One of Danan's previous hosts had been a Starfleet Intelligence analyst. Using that background, Danan had successfully convinced Starfleet to assign her to Macen's infiltration mission into the Maquis. Like Macen, she'd been swayed by the Cause and swiftly became a double agent.

She'd joined the troika that made up the Ronaran cell's Intelligence Unit. In fact, she was Macen's second-in-command. T'Kir had been the third member of their particular Trinity. She'd also been the splinter that severed Macen and Danan's romantic relationship.

Danan had left the Maquis mere days before the Jem'Hadar struck. She'd become disillusioned with the Maquis' increasingly reliance on terror tactics. Eddington's use of biogenic weapons had inspired the reflections that led to her decision to part ways.

She'd been swept up by the romance of the Cause. The romance had ended some months earlier, not lasting much longer than her relationship with Macen. She saw him as being increasingly instable. His reactions to the Cardassian violence were escalating into an increasingly disproportionate response. She couldn't endorse it nor could she approve of it.

The ultimate irony was that she joined him again when the SID was formed. She'd drifted away for a time into academia but that was short lived. The Magna Romans and the Omicron saw to that. She'd served as Macen's conscience for a time but she'd eventually relinquished that role as she adapted to his methods and even began to see them as being necessary.

P'ris immediately recognized Danan. The Trill had accompanied Macen when they'd first met P'ris during the Gulag investigation. That investigation had led to the birth of the SID and to Danan's brief venture outside of its ranks. P'ris had been very impressed with Danan and had long wondered why the El-Aurian and the Trill had separated.

Of course, the underlying reason behind it all had been T'Kir. When P'ris had learned of T'Kir's death she'd wondered if Macen would ever recoup. Then, eighteen months later, to learn of his union with Rockford had come as quite a shock. The subsequent knowledge that T'Kir now lived, and was severed by law and choice from her former husband and was quite content to be so, had initially alarmed P'ris. Now, she immediately saw the connection between the pair of Macen and Rockford.

It was similar to the connection that he had shared with T'Kir. Only He and T'Kir had started as mentor and student and evolved into equal footing. But they were essentially both lost souls. That truth held sway over Rockford and Macen. She couldn't define it exactly but she knew Rockford was an Angosian Augment and all Augments were cast offs. However, Rockford didn't seem to suffer from the behavioral conditioning imbalances that other Augments, say Rab Daggit for instance, seemed afflicted with. Rockford had managed to assimilate into the human culture. It was a foreign culture to be sure but she had managed it. P'ris wondered what the difference was.

Danan lit up when she saw P'ris, "Commander! It's so good to be on the same side again."

P'ris accepted this with a wry smile. The last time few times she'd encountered this SID team she'd been serving the interests of her native government. That had placed her at cross purposes with the team. Once one encounter had even devolved into a shooting match.

Of course, this encounter might turn into one major conflict as well. Commander Donatella was likely under orders to retrieve if possible and execute if necessary. Given the Typhon Pact's latest litany of complaints against the Federation, Donatella would likely destroy this station in event of a firefight. It was a civilian installation and therefore it was easier to deny culpability. Particularly with the list of enemies that Outbound Ventures had earned. Once elements of the Iotian Federation, under the employ of Solarian Security Systems, had razed the corporate headquarters on Barrinor and destroyed or crippled nearly every Outbound Ventures affiliated starship.

The Corporation had risen from the ashes and even established the Security Alliance Academy on Barrinor with other privateers and security agencies. With the destruction and deaths of so many Starfleet assets, private security firms were raking in the largesse of abundant contracts. The Federation needed its gaps filled and civilians were the only ones available to do so.

Outbound Ventures, already awash with government contracts, found itself overwhelmed and taking on new help. They'd once boasted two SID approved teams but with Riker's return to the Obsidian the SID had revoked its second license and now the Corporation only fielded one SID team. Of that team was also the original SID team and still considered the best. They drew the most difficult assignments and therefore also earned the most lucrative rewards.

One of those perks was that Outbound Ventures received decommissioned Starfleet vessels to fill its ranks. Most of these ships originated from the turn of the century up until the 2350's. Outbound Ventures fielded Newton-class science ships with weapons and sensors intact and upgraded to current standards. The same true for the Emden-class escorts that the corporation boasted. The Emden-classes were particularly tough ships despite only accommodating a crew of 22. In many ways they were reminiscent of the Archer-class scoutships that were popular in the 2250's and 2260's. Their crew complements were filled with cross trained specialists just like those early scouts.


P'ris slid all of this aside, "Indeed, Commander. It shall be good to work beside you once again."

Danan's smile only grew, "Please, it's Lisea or Lees."

"Indeed?" P'ris looked surprised, "It is rare for one in my culture to share a familiar name with a former foe."

"I believe former is the operative word," Danan said brightly, "I don't consider you a foe. Since our first meeting I've always seen you as a friend. A sometimes misguided friend but a friend nonetheless."

"Very well, Lees. I accept your terms," P'ris mused.

The deckplates shuddered and P'ris suddenly looked worried. Danan allayed her fears, "It's all right. We've just unlocked the docking clamps and applied thrusters. Tom took your advice and now we moving to the center point between the upper pylons in order to achieve a better firing solution."

"So we are expecting a fight?" P'ris asked.

Danan was somewhat glum as she answered, "It looks that way. The Burnett has been delayed and the deadline is five minutes away."

"So the die is cast," P'ris predicted despondently.

"Don't worry, if there's a way out of this Tom will find it. If he can't, Brin'll pull some miracle out of thin air."

P'ris suddenly cocked her slight to one side, "You truly married, Captain Riker?"

Danan was decidedly amused, "Yes, why?"

"You never reconsidered your romance with Commander Macen?" P'ris wanted to know.

Danan's expression was warm but chiding, "That ship had taken flight a long time ago. Besides, it wasn't as though Brin was vying for my affections."

P'ris seemed to ponder this, "I suppose not."

"Captain, both the Obsidian and Serenity are receiving a broadband hail from the Romulans," Jaycee Miller reported.

"Put her on screen, Jaycee," Riker ordered.

Donatella appeared on the viewer. She saw a split screen where she viewed both Riker and Serenity's Strategic Affairs Officer; "Well, what is your answer?"

Riker had agreed to take the lead on this one, "I think you know already but besides that you're awfully short on courtesy."

Donatella's face flushed emerald and she grated, "Yet your answer is?"

"The answer is 'no'. But you already expected that, didn't you?" Riker queried her.

Donatella's smile was ruthless, "Very well. Hail us when you want to surrender. We may be feeling generous and might take prisoners. Maybe not."

The screen went dark and all three Warbirds commenced firing. Interestingly enough, one concentrated on the station while the other two tried a crossfire to pummel Serenity's shields. Riker knew even if they penetrated the station's shields they still have to punch through the surveyor's,

Serenity's rotary photon torpedo launchers worked over time as did her weapons sail mounted phaser strips. But the raw truth of the matter was that even between them, the Outbound Ventures units were simply outgunned by ships of the line. Miller reported that Serenity's shields were failing when Danan suddenly called out.

"We have a vessel in bound," she reported.

"Afraid to hope, Riker merely asked, "Who is it?"

Danan turned from her sensor displays and smiled, "It's the Burnett."


Chapter Two

The Burnett rushed into the system at full impulse. As soon as she was in range, the Cheyenne-class cruiser unleashed a volley of quantum torpedoes. They bracketed a single Warbird. The other two Warbirds separated away from the stricken Warbird to minimize oncoming weapons' fire and to bracket the Burnett in a crossfire. Serenity and the Obsidian joined in the fray. The Warbird closest to the station broke free from the loose formation angled for a better attack on the space station.

"That is Commander Rejik's ship," P'ris informed Riker, "He is Donatella's second. He's the most experienced in ship to ship combat next to Commander Donatella herself."

"Who's the weak link?" Riker asked grimly.

"The wounded ship hosts Commander Sheyla. She is new to her post and most adept at boarding and occupation maneuvers," P'ris supplied the requested information, "She is Tal Shiar, not Imperial Fleet. She is best suited to skullduggery not open combat."

"Jaycee?" Riker suddenly said.

"Yessir?" she rejoined.

"Did you catch all of that?" he inquired.

"I was a little busy shooting at the enemy, sir," she quipped, "You'll have to run it by me again."

"Commander, will you?" Riker asked with a pained expression.

P'ris smiled warmly, "Of course."

She moved to Miller's station and began giving her instruction. Soon, Miller was focusing on the ship otherwise protected from the Burnett and held back from the station. The two gunslingers were meant to batter the station's defenses and pave the way for Sheyla's ship to move in and transport an occupation force aboard.

As Serenity's shields became increasingly porous, the more the Obsidian began to feel the incoming barrage. The Outbound Ventures crews were under another constraint as well. Starfleet regulated how many photons could be stored aboard a civilian station, even one run by a security agency. The station was desperately low on ordnance by now. The truly sad part was that the Obsidian had begun with more torpedoes than the more vulnerable station could be called a travesty.

As it was, the Obsidian was purposely built as a scientific vessel. Its description as a surveyor was completely accurate. The Nova-class had replaced the venerable, but long lived, Oberth-class science ships. While it was true that the Nova-class was better protected than the nearly unarmed Oberths, it was still lightly armed compared to a ship of the line. The entire class was designed to conduct in depth surveys after the exploration ships had passed through and other cruisers had secured the operational theater.

The Obsidian had faced unspeakable forces and triumphed over impossible odds while surviving horrendous damage. The truth was, she's simply been lucky to survive Macen's captaincy. The El-Aurian had a rather checkered past when it came to command. He'd lost the Hydra-class escort USS Odyssey, the Blackbird-class scout SS Odyssey, the Ju'day-class raider SS Eclipse, and the Blackbird-class SS Solstice. That didn't include the original Danube-class runabout SS Corsair. The Obsidian had just proven tough enough, and stubborn enough, to endure until Riker assumed the captaincy.

Of course the original Corsair had been replaced by a namesake. The Solstice had also been succeeded by the Solstice-A. The runabout served as the Obsidian's primary support craft while the scoutship was Macen's personal ship. She was housed in a massive underground hangar complex at the Outbound Ventures HQ.

With her had been the Skylark-class SS Idiot's Delight. Macen had shipped the craft off to Vulcan. It was the one tangible link T'Kir had with her past and Macen felt she should retain that since the ship had been her personal baby. Of course, the newly dispassionate T'Kir would probably be revolted at the emotional connections that the ship would replay for her but Macen didn't care. He couldn't bear to have the ship nearby if T'Kir wasn't there with it.

All said and done, the surveyor was giving as best she could but she was caught in a crossfire and taking a beating.


"Jaycee, firm up those damn shields!" Riker ordered.

"Don't yell at me!" Miller squawked back, "Chew on Parva's ass for a change."

Riker shot a disgruntled look towards Forger. His XO decided to take matters into her own hands and commed the ship's Orion Chief Engineer. After a moment, she signed off with a resigned expression on her face.

"Parva's got her hands full," Forger reported, "She has as many damage control teams deployed that she can spare. The warp core's starting to hiccup and she's even called in McMasters to help.

"Ouch. That had to hurt her pride," Riker winced.

"That's why I'm not pressuring her. She's getting the job and no one else can do it better," Forger reminded him.

Riker knew that was certainly true. The Obsidian had had three Chief Engineers so far. Parva had been the first but she'd stepped down when Hal Dracas rejoined the team. She stepped up again when he resigned and rejoined Starfleet. She stepped down after being gravely injured. Her physical wounds had healed fairly rapidly but brain damage had been inflicted and it took a long series of re-education course to restore her skills. In the interim Dracas' clone, Joachim Dracas, had assumed the mantle.

Joachim's death coincided with Parva's return to the ship. Truth be told, Riker was happy to have her back. Hal Dracas had been competent and Joachim had been inventive but Parva was inspired. The ship was running better than ever. Of course, Parva had swallowed her pride on occasion and asked for the SID Engineer's help on occasion.

Eric McMaster's may not possess Parva's intuitive genius but he was a wonder to behold when it came to drive and weapons systems. This is what had made him the Maquis' chief refit artist. After serving his stint on a penal colony for his part in the Maquis, he'd set up shop customizing racing platforms and hot-rodding shuttles and runabouts. If anyone could offer Parva fresh insights on how to keep the warp core intact, he would be the one to do it.


Riker began issuing order to Miller. P'ris watched the activity with obvious disapproval. Macen noted this.

"You disagree?" he asked.

"We need to maneuver," P'ris replied, "If we stay in this crossfire we will be destroyed."

"What was that?" Riker asked sharply.

P'ris hesitated and Riker used a softer voice, "If you have any suggestions, Commander, I'm open to hear them."

"Sitting here is going to get us all killed," P'ris ventured, "You need to maneuver, not only for your sake, but also to draw off fire from the station."

"Jaycee, what's the status on Serenity's shields?" he inquired.

"They're collapsing as we speak," she grimly reported.

"Rhiann, get us the hell away from her and see if you can get both Warbirds to follow you," Riker ordered, "Jaycee, fire at will."

"Why would I take a potshot at your brother?" she asked.

Riker glared at her. She turned back to her console, "Try to have a sense of humor, geez."


Rhiann started accelerating right for Donatella's ship. At the very last second she veered off and made a pass at Sheyla's. Miller unloaded phasers and photons at both ships. She laid into Commander Sheyla's Warbird. The Obsidian broke free and headed for the Warbird engaging the Burnett.

The Cheyennes were designed as light cruisers. She was giving the Romulan hell but like the Obsidian, the Burnett was heavily outgunned. A volley of torpedoes from the surveyor caught the Warbird cold. Her commander had rerouted all power to the forward shields and left his aft quarter undefended. The unprotected hull ruptured under the antimatter bursts of the photons and the Warbird was venting atmosphere as the Obsidian raced by.

The Warbird's shields faltered and the Burnett's next salvo inflicted heavy damage. By this time, Donatella was in pursuit of the Obsidian. The Burnett engaged her and the battle resumed while the damaged Warbird desperately tried to make repairs.

Sheyla's Warbird engaged Serenity again. The Obsidian came about and hammered the beleaguered ship driven by an inexperienced commander. Rhiann literally flew circles around the Warbird. Riker was desperately trying to give the station's engineering staff time to erect the shields. If Sheyla got troops aboard, things would get ugly.


"Tom!" Danan yelled, "The Warbird has initiated transporters."

"Damn it!" Riker snarled, "Rhiann, take us in close. Jaycee, unload everything you have."

The Obsidian flew down the Warbird's throat and made it choke on several photons. Rhiann pulled away and made to come about. Riker asked Miller for a damage assessment.

"Of us or them?" she asked.

"If I wanted a report on us I'd be talking to Edwin," he snapped, referring to Edwin Zimbalist, the senior OPS Officer, "What's going on in that damn Warbird?"

"Their shields are fluctuating," Miller began to report, "We may be able to squeak some torpedoes through the gaps and really do some damage."

"Do it," Riker ordered.

"But there's a problem," she warned.

"And that is?" he calmly asked.

"We only have a dozen warheads left," she explained, "We were never intended for such a prolonged engagement so our magazines are teensy weensy."

"Just get ready to do some damage," Riker counseled.


He looked to Forger, who was barely able to contain her mirth. He still saw her in a different light than before. He didn't mean to but it totally changed his whole outlook on her. Fully transitioned transgender woman were one thing, he had several amorous encounters with such woman, but a pre-op transsexual? He hadn't known people stayed that way.

It wasn't like he'd entertained fantasies about sleeping with her, but still; such a thing was totally out of the question now. It wasn't so much that he'd wanted an opportunity as an opportunity had died with his newfound knowledge.

Danan had told him that some men preferred women like her. He'd found that hard to believe until McMasters had apparently hooked up with her over their recent vacation time. Both seemed blissfully happy with whatever had happened between them. He was happy for them, especially for Shannon because she'd been waiting it out waiting for just the right man to come along and McMasters might very well be the candidate she'd hoped for.


"Rhiann, set 12 mark 5," Jaycee requested.

Rhiann set the course and barreled in. They began taking disruptor hits she couldn't evade. The Romulan gunner became bolder and began to lay in particle beam fire. Jaycee suddenly released four torpedoes.

"Break away! Evasive action," Riker ordered.

Rhiann pirouetted away and then jigged and jagged her way away from the Romulan ship. Explosions rocked it near its engine compartment.

"Yes!" Miller cried out, "They're now on auxiliary power. Wait...even that's failing due to secondary explosions. They're running on fumes, sir."

"Meaning they're down to battery power," he surmised.

"Exactly," she said with self congratulatory pride.

"Good shooting, Tex," Riker praised her and also referenced her origins, "Now hail Serenity and find out if they need help containing the boarding party."

"Oh shit," Danan suddenly exclaimed.

She took over the viewer and switched its view to further out in the system. Two more Warbirds decloaked and began their approach.

"Oh, man. They are pissed," Miller commented.

"Belay that," Riker commanded, "What's their status?"

"They're running weapons hot and their targeting sensors are looking to acquire," she summarized. A ding from her console made her swear, "They've locked onto us."

"Waitaminute!" Danan cried out, "We've got a third ship decloaking and coming in hot. It's the Defiant!"

Riker was incredulous. For the Defiant to transit across two sectors in this amount of time meant that Captain Ro Laren had stripped off the safeties and nearly overloaded her engines. Still he could believe it. Macen and Danan were family to Ro. Her cell had supported his abortive venture into Cardassian space but he hadn't met the woman herself until years later after signing up with the SID.

"How many torpedoes do we have?" Riker wondered.

"Eight," Miller said with her usual gusto.

"Rhiann, take us in. Let's show Captain Ro that we've still got some fight left in us," Riker instructed.

Rhiann wore a Cheshire grin, "Yes sir!"


The Defiant opened up with pulse phasers and quantum torpedoes. The closest Warbird was completely pummeled. The starship kept at it, never relenting, and the Warbird's shields soon buckled. Rather than finish off the Romulan ship, Ro opted to rescue the Obsidian.

Riker had unleashed every last photon at the remaining Warbird. The phasers continually fired afterwards to keep the pressure on. However, the Obsidian was swiftly reeling as the Warbird concentrated all of its formidable firepower on her.

The Defiant intervened and finished off what the Obsidian had begun. The two ships were damaged but they still had auxiliary power and their impulse engines. Nearby, the Burnett had severely damaged Donatella's ship as she committed to riskier and riskier moves as her desperation mounted. The Defiant's pulse phasers made short work of her.

Ro hailed the Burnett's Captain. After conferring with her, she turned her attention to the Obsidian, "Hello Tom. Is Brin around?"

"Let me shift the viewer pick up to wide scan," Riker said, "Better?"

Ro peered at P'ris, "So you're the reason I was dragged two sectors away from my designated patrol zone."

"A distinct pleasure to meet you again, Ro Laren," P'ris smiled gratefully; "I see you have made Captain."

"I have the feeling you already knew that," Ro retorted. P'ris didn't deny it so Ro persisted, "Nechayev has been chewing my ass off. She wants you to accompany me and head for Sector 001."

"You're kidding," Macen remarked.

"No," Ro grated, "She was quite insistent."

"What about Serenity?" Macen wanted to know.

"The Burnett will be on station. Elements of the 9th Fleet are en route to relieve her," Ro replied, "We're to depart post haste."

"The ship's damaged," Macen informed her.

"Can she make warp speed?" Ro wondered.

Macen looked to Riker. He in turn looked to Zimbalist. The OPS Chief nodded.

"I guess we can," Macen said, "But we still need to make repairs."

"Then you can make repairs while you're underway," Ro countered, "Let Parva live up to her reputation as a miracle worker."

"I might be motivated to persuade Tom to send her to your ship and dismantle it," Macen threatened.

"And who'll bail your sorry butt out of trouble next time?" she asked facetiously.

"You're just fishing for a thank you," Macen teased.

"So what if I am?" Ro asked indignantly, "I think I deserve one."

"So you do," Macen conceded, "Thank you, Laren."

"Now that that's settled, are you ready to get the hell out of here?" Ro asked.

"Tom, I'm picking up subspace wakes," Danan suddenly called out.

"How many?" Riker asked.

"Five, and before you ask, they have a Breen signature," Danan informed him.

"Where the hell is the 9th Fleet?" Riker demanded of Ro.

"There're on their way," Ro replied coldly, "They're tracking an entire Typhon Pact armada massed at the border, "The Barrinor system is lucky to be getting any ships at all."

"What about the surviving elements of the 7th Fleet?" he wondered, "They're stationed at Bajor."

"What's left of the 7th, which is made up of three ships by the way, has been reorganized into Picket Force 47, which I command," Ro tersely explained, "Now we don't have time for this bullshit. Go to your maximum available speed and follow me out of the system."

"Hold on," Riker tapped his comm panel, "Parva, I need maximum warp."

"Are you frinxed in the head?" the Orion demanded.

"No," he said dryly, "It's literally a case of life or death."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," she huffed.

"Parva, five Breen warships are bearing down on us. No one's in a position to fight them so we've been ordered back to Earth," Riker explained.

"Who the hell can give us orders?" Parva protested.

"Brin can and he's ordering us to Earth," Riker lied.

"Tell him I'm going to kill him if we end up dying," Parva growled, "I'll give you Warp 9 but not a microcochrane faster."

"You're a goddess," Riker praised her.

"I know," she said mater of factly.

"Rhiann, lay in a course for Sector 001 and engage for Warp 9," Riker ordered.

"Aye sir!" she crisply replied.


The Defiant followed suit and both ships raced out of the system. The Breen slowed to impulse and traversed the system at sublight. Donatella angrily told them that two starships had escaped and were vectored for Earth. The Breen force set out at their maximum spewed. Fortunately, they'd been slowed by their deviation out of subspace and they'd also been burning their engines at maximum warp for twelve hours to get here on time. They had to reduce speed in order to avoid critically damaging their engines. This ensured that though they would burn the brush and chase the foxes through the fields that they would still arrive after said foxes had made it to their dens.

Ro alerted Home Fleet and the Home Sector patrols. The Breen were running cloaked. Their access to the Romulan cloaking tech was a condition of their joining the Typhon Pact. Little did they realize that the Romulans had given away an older generation of the cloaking tech. The latest generation was being reserved for Romulan ships and would hold the Romulan fleet in good stead should the Typhon Pact splinter.

The Defiant was on its last leg arriving at Earth. Ro had indeed run the engines well past their safety ratings in order to arrive at Barrinor in such record time. Nog was screaming at Ro to drop out of warp for the last thirty minutes of the journey while Ro merely replied with, "Five more minutes."

Those accumulated five minutes had gotten the Defiant within the safe embrace of the the Home Fleet. The Fleet was deployed in order to utilize a tachyon web to detect cloaked vessels. They were prepared for the Breen to try and penetrate the web despite certainty of discovery.

The Obsidian was minutes away from a warp core breach when she finally switched to her relatively stable impulse engines. Parva had threatened to blow the core just to spite them all if they didn't drop out of subspace. When the event finally happened, she angrily commed the bridge.


"It's about time!" she yelled, "Now I can clean up your frinxing mess!"

Riker glanced over towards Forger, "I think I should avoid Engineering for a while."

"Safe bet," she snickered, "And you might want to check the settings on your sonic shower the next time you use it."

"She wouldn't," Riker refused to believe it.

"Eric's down there with her," Forger reminded him. He gleefully noted her usage of McMaster's first name.

"Captain, we're getting a hail," Miller chimed in.

"Put it on screen," Riker instructed.

Admiral Nechayev's hardened features appeared. The blonde woman's hair had started to gray after the Borg invasion. The Argyn debacle had accelerated the process. Riker knew this latest event couldn't be helping matters any.

"Admiral, what a pleasant surprise," he jovially greeted her.

"Spare me the crap, Captain," Nechayev replied, "Is Commander P'ris secured aboard your vessel?"

"Yes, she is," Riker's voice lost all its friendliness.

"You're to put in at Spacedock. I'll have people waiting for her," Nechayev commanded.

"Civilian vessels aren't allowed in Spacedock," Riker archly reminded her.

She gave him a withering glare, "Civilian craft aren't allowed at the Utopia Planetia yards either yet you get tended there all the time on our nickel. You've been cleared. Just dock your damn ship where you're told, Captain."

The screen reverted back to its view of the Sol system. Riker squirmed in his seat. Macen came to stand beside him.

"It isn't worth fighting over, Tom. Alynna is right. We need to make port and make repairs," he tried to smooth things over.

"All right but she'd best remember who it is she's dealing with," Riker huffed.

"She does," Macen dryly replied. Seeing Riker's accusatory glare, "She looks at it this way: she's the boss of our employer, therefore her authority supersedes all others."

"Awfully shortsighted if you ask me," Riker grumbled.

"Have no fears, she won't," Macen remarked.

Riker's expression soured, "I'll let you know when we've docked. You know she'll have a team standing by to retrieve your little friend."

"You do remember the acuity of T'Kir's ears, don't you?" Macen idly wondered.

"Yes, so?" Riker was leery of where this was going.

"P'ris has those same ears," Macen warned him.

"Good. I want her to hear," Riker sniped.

Macen sighed and returned to P'ris and Rockford, "Ladies, I believe we have a date with an airlock."

P'ris looked slightly discomfited while Rockford appreciated the humor to be found there.


The airlock opened to one Commander Michelle Prentiss and a trio of Security officers. Prentiss was an SI agent, formerly in the SID's employ. She'd come up through Internal Affairs, just like Admiral Amanda Forger herself. The Director of the SID had been IA before being recruited by Nechayev to SI. Prentiss had been IA, then SID, and when the SID went over to civilian assets alone, she'd transferred to SI.

"Hello Commander," Macen said peaceably, "I hope you're not here to investigate us again.

That brought a slight smile to Prentiss' lips. Her investigation of Macen's SID team had been one of the most unorthodox experiences of her life, "No, I'm here to collect Commander P'ris."

"Commander Macen and Detective Rockford are coming with me," P'ris insisted.

Prentiss frowned, "That's highly irregular."

"Nevertheless, it will be a fact," P'ris demanded.

"May I ask why?" Prentiss chose to play along.

"Macen is my advocate. Where I go, he goes. Where he goes, I go. Detective Rockford feels the same towards Commander Macen so where he goes, she goes. Simple, no?"

"Hardly," Prentiss snorted. She returned to Macen, "I thought you were married to the Vulcan psi-witch?"

"I was. She died," Macen replied.

Prentiss blanched, "I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"It's okay. She's alive now and living on Vulcan," he assured her.

Prentiss just stared at him, eyes bulging.

"Trust me, you do not want to try and unravel that particular enigma. I was there and I still don't get it," Rockford offered, "Suffice it to say, T'Kir's out and I'm in."

Prentiss knew Macen would literally fight to the death over this. For all of her relaxed, nonchalant demeanor Rockford had to be the same way or she wouldn't be with him. She knew nothing regarding P'ris but she could easily see the Romulan's steely resolve.

"Let me make some calls," Prentiss relented.


Minutes later she approached the trio, "All right. We'll play it your way but when we debrief her we'll do it without your participation."

Macen knew the comment was directed at him, "May I ask why you said 'we' just then?"

"Because this is my debrief. Admiral Nechayev is sitting in but I'm running the show," Prentiss proclaimed.

Macen knew Prentiss was in for some heartache when Nechayev finally pulled rank.


Chapter Three

The trio was taken to a briefing room. One wall faced a second room that mounted displays for the sensor feeds. Several specially trained Security techs were present. Macen and Rockford were invited to witness the proceedings from there. P'ris was brought into the briefing room and sat down at the table.

Two security officers maintained position by the door while Prentiss stepped outside to alert the Admiral that P'ris was at her designated location. Afterwards, Prentiss rejoined P'ris. The room was shielded against subspace frequencies so comm badges were neutralized while inside the room. Prentiss explained this and explained that it would take Admiral Nechayev a moment to settle her affairs so she could "step off the grid".

That moment turned into several. Prentiss asked if she could offer anything to P'ris. The Romulan requested a liter of water and some lyra crackers and r'lihj cheese. Knowing that these were Romulan cuisine, Prentiss consulted the diplomatic databases. Seeing that former Romulan ambassadors had programmed the replicator networks with those items before being recalled in lieu of the Typhon Pact Ambassador Tezrene, Prentiss happily presented them. P'ris seemed impressed.

She snacked away in silence while Prentiss observed her. The Tal Shiar agent was remarkably composed, as though she were still in control rather than Starfleet. Prentiss knew it was her job to disabuse her of that notion.


Meanwhile, Nechayev was consulting Macen, "What's her state of mind?"

"Why're you asking me?" Macen wondered.

"Besides the fact you've just spent the last five days with her getting here, you've also the most experience of anyone in Federation circles with her," Nechayev dryly remarked.

"She won't admit or show it but she's scared. She's afraid her request for asylum will be rejected," Macen informed her. Nechayev wore a predatory smile. Macen warned her off, "Don't use that against her." Nechayev gave him a querying glance so he elaborated, "She'll only fight you and you won't get the information that she promised Amanda."

"Does she have it?" Nechayev wanted to know.

"She has something of value," Macen expressed his impression of the situation, "She's not talking to me but on the way here she alluded to possessing information that could radically alter not only the Typhon Pact but also our relations with them."

"And why does she wish to share this information?" Nechayev inquired, "The attempt has branded her a traitor and up until now she's been a patriotic Romulan."

"A patriotic Romulan that pursues the best interests of her people," Macen amended her statement, "If she feels that doing this will benefit the Romulan people, she'll pursue this course without hesitation."

"I'd feel a lot better about this and her if it weren't for her involvement in that Rihannsu affair. She set those people up for the slaughter. The Tal Shiar rid itself of the bulk of the dissident movements in the Star Empire in one fell swoop," Nechayev complained.

"Yet she also assisted us in the Chandillan Affair," Macen offered.

"She told you it was an interstellar conspiracy which you already suspected," Nechayev coolly responded.

"But her confirmation saved me hours of wondering," Macen tersely replied.

Nechayev could tell that Macen was going to defend P'ris regardless of their firefight on Harbinger, "Why are you defending her?"

"I'm defending her because she is a Romulan patriot," Macen shared.

"This is because of T'Kir," Nechayev surmised.

"Not at all," Macen assured her, "Starfleet sent us to Romulus and Remus and P'ris wholeheartedly helped us track down the Romulan leaders that were supplying third parties with trilithium warheads. In doing so she confirmed my suspicions of her."

"And those were?" Nechayev was filled with morbid curiosity.

"That's she's a decent, honorable woman," Macen stated.

Nechayev gave him a dubious stare and he explained, "She's gone out of her way to avoid violence especially on Harbinger. Our success with cooperating with the Tal Shiar was entirely up to her. She doesn't necessarily see the Federation as an enemy merely as a competitor."

"But the Romulans have been known to kill or enslave competitors," Nechayev dryly pointed out.

"There is that," he conceded.

"If I might bring up a point?" Rockford suddenly asked.

Nechayev nodded in her direction so she spoke, "I may not have the history with Commander P'ris that Brin has but I am a good judge of character. She takes the Star Empire's allegiance to its fellow Typhon Pact members very seriously. When she sees the Empire moving against its fellow members and it worries her. Seeing us as a fairly neutral third party, she wants to enlist our aid in pressuring the Empire into honoring its treaty stipulations. She desires this because she sees a repeat of the Rihannsu betrayal underway."

Even Macen stared at her incredulously. Rockford shrugged, "There is such a thing as girl talk."

"She wants us to keep the Typhon Pact from falling apart?" Nechayev was incredulous.

"She looks at the situation as being composed of checks and balances. The Star Empire sees us as imperialistic and subversive," Rockford continued to explain, "We are the check. The tension between the Khitomer Accords nation and the Typhon Pact is the balance."

Nechayev looked distinctly displeased with that notion, "Thank you very much, Detective. I suppose you will be joining Commander Macen in his observations?"

"Oh, you can rest assured of that," Rockford's tongue in cheek reply just shot out of her.

Nechayev scowled as she left. She reappeared in the room Prentiss and P'ris occupied. Unexpectedly, the admiral dismissed the security contingent. She went to the replicator and ordered breakfast tea and then she sat down.

"Well Commander, I hear from Admiral Forger that you have something to say to me," Nechayev said with far more warmth in her voice than she had just displayed a moment before.

"First, I wish to formally request political asylum in the United Federation of Planets," P'ris dispensed with the formalities.

"And why is that?" Nechayev asked.

"My government wishes to kill me," P'ris replied.

"I repeat my question, Nechayev retorted.

"I am going to reveal certain state secrets to you, Admiral. For this intent I have been branded a traitor," the Romulan agent proclaimed.

"Are you?" Nechayev wondered.

P'ris cocked an eyebrow her way and Nechayev wore a slight smirk as she asked, "Are you a traitor, Commander?"

"No," P'ris replied with a steady smile, "I am a true patriot."

"Then can you appreciate my dilemma?" Nechayev inquired, "The Star Empire is hardly the Federation's friend."

"But neither is it your enemy," P'ris adroitly pointed out.

Nechayev snorted, "Even though the Typhon Pact is nominally united it still has divisions within it. Divisions that keep it from attacking us as a single entity."

The analysis greatly amused P'ris, "A tad naïve, even for a human."

Nechayev's expression read Oh really? P'ris chose to elaborate, "While the majority of Romulans choose to live with a 'cold war' between the Federation and the Star Empire there is a growing minority that urges a first strike option. They feel it is only a matter of time before the Federation egresses into our affairs and our territories. This group increasingly has the ear of the newly crowned Empress and especially of her Proconsul."

"I understand Sela's position but why Donatra?" Nechayev asked.

"The crown weighs heavily upon her head. There has not been an actual imperial ruler for a millennia. Many throughout the empire see her as a usurper of the natural political order. She needs to unite the empire under her flag and what better way than a war in defense of the realm?" P'ris rejoined.

"Indeed," Nechayev dryly agreed, "Now, about this information you claim to possess?"

"What guarantees do I have that you will grant me safe harbor once I hand over my information?" P'ris countered.

Nechayev's smile was cold and predatory, "None."

"That is most unsatisfactory," P'ris commented.

"See it from my perspective," Nechayev urged, "You're here to essentially betray your people for their own good. You have admitted you have no love of the Federation. Point in fact, you still see us as potential enemies and I'm willing to bet that you'd sell us out if you thought it benefited your own native people. Am I wrong?"

P'ris had the decency to blush a little, "No, you are correct."

"Then you understand my dilemma. If I allow you access to the Federation and its worlds you'll probably have access to some of its gravest secrets," Nechayev laid it out.

"I do not understand how I would have access to your secrets. Do all Federation citizens have access to Starfleet's classified material?" P'ris wondered.

"No, they don't. And you wouldn't be a citizen which should theoretically limit your access even further but we have a problem," Nechayev revealed.

"And that is?" P'ris had to know.

"Your protector," Nechayev said quite coolly.

It took P'ris a moment but then it dawned on her, "Ah, Commander Macen."

"You should go easy on the 'Commander" bit," Nechayev counseled, "Macen's retired. Just as you theoretically are."

"Why would my relationship with...Mr. Macen be a problem?" P'ris sought clarification.

"Brin is protective of you despite your somewhat turbulent history with him," Nechayev explained, "In fact; I think he sees you as a friend. He is very loyal to his friends and would quite literally lay down his life in their defense."

P'ris seemed inordinately pleased by this concept and Nechayev tried to strike her down...hard, "That wasn't meant to put ideas in your head. Now I could make it a stipulation that you avoid Macen but I know you'll just break it. Brin won't be a help in that department. I objected to his recruiting T'Kir and he not only brought her into the team, he ended up marrying her. I voiced objection regarding Detective Rockford and he made her his 2nd in command. Do you see the problem now? I say 'no' to you and you become catnip."

P'ris obviously struggled with the last word, "I do believe the translator is having a conniption over your last turn of phrase. Why would I pose a problem if I have been transformed into an herb?"

Nechayev looked exasperated and snapped at Prentiss, "Have someone from Starfleet Communications run an overhaul of the damn translation matrix into High Rhihan!"

P'ris intervened; "I understand your reasoning, Admiral. However, let me express my concerns. Agenst of my own Tal Shiar and other Imperial agencies will be after my head. I intend to keep it and in pursuit of that goal I will be eschewing the services of Starfleet Security and the Federation Security Agency. Brin Macen is my employee, contracted to provide for my safety. Since I am still in mortal peril, that contract still holds."

Nechayev stiffened and P'ris wore her own thin smile, "You and Commander Macen can review the terms of the contract that elaborated on her initial verbal agreement. No time frame was set only the stipulation that I be in need of services. Well, I am in need and I expect service!"

P'ris imagined that Macen's unseen and unlamented groan matched Nechayev's much more visible one. She decided it was best that she throw the Starfleet admiral a bone, "The nature of Commander Macen's activities is well known to me. One need only read between the lines of his corporation's public announcements and be able to make those deductions. And then of course, there are my personal experiences with the man. All of which led to my discovery of the Special Investigations Division."

Nechayev flinched, even though she controlled it well. Satisfied, P'ris continued; "On yes, I am quite aware of Admiral Amanda Forger's Directorship of the SID, and of her sister Shannon's duties aboard the SS Obsidian, which is in turn assigned to support Macen's SID team. I have known all of this and more yet have kept my suppositions to myself."

This visibly surprised Nechayev, "Why would you do that?"

"Friendships amongst my people are deep and abiding. As Commander Macen values me as a friend, I too value him as one. I would have been on Romulus during the Hobus crisis if not for him warning me years in advance. Millions of my people would also be dead. Do you repay such a gift by betraying their confidence? I think not!" P'ris insisted.

"My superiors, such as there were, knew of my early theories regarding Macen's allegiances but they never received confirmation of such. All they do know for certain is that Macen is a privateer and he is licensed to accept contracts issued by Starfleet. They do not realize that Starfleet is primary employer through a division of Starfleet Intelligence that only works through civilian assets for covert operations." P'ris cocked an eyebrow Nechayev's way, "Have I summed up the scenario adequately?"

"A little too adequately," Nechayev confessed.

"So, I have the data you require. You have the legal means to grant the status that I desire and we are at an impasse," P'ris' quizzical expression returned, "Or are we?"

"Give me the data and I'll make some calls," Nechayev promised, "How long do you have to wait?"

"I am obviously at your disposal," P'ris ruefully remarked, "Provided such a condition does not result in my disposal."

Nechayev actually smiled at that, "You'll continue to be confined in this room. Commander Prentiss will run you through the routine questions. If you have to use the restroom, you can use the facilities attached to this room. Understood?"

"I believe so," P'ris acknowledged. She pulled a data rod out of her sleeve and reached across the table to hand it to Nechayev, "This contains everything of interest to you."

Nechayev held it up to the light as though she could read the data on the isolinear rod by eye, "I'll be back."

"Feel free," P'ris remarked, "I am obviously not going anywhere."

Nechayev smiled at that. The obvious equanimity behind the words indicated that P'ris was not only serious about the process but was committed to it. That would go a long way when Nechayev presented her case to Admiral Jellico and President Bacco.


Starfleet Commander-in-Chief, namely Admiral Edward Jellico, and The United Federation of Planets President Bacco, met Nechayev's news with grim finality.

"So there's no doubt that Commander P'ris' information is valid and accurate?" Bacco asked.

"No doubt whatsoever," Nechayev affirmed it, "Sources outside of Starfleet have confirmed that readiness plans have been drafted by the Romulan Imperial Forces to enact such a contingency."

"I suppose that information comes from sources that will remain unnamed?" Jellico half asked, half directed. He'd learned of the machinations of Section 31 during the Cell 51 crisis and just as soon they remained in the shadows where they'd belonged. Discovering upon examination that section 31 of the Starfleet Charter did indeed create a clandestine agency to secure the safety of the Federation, he left it at that. Jellico's time and experience with the elusive Council of 5 had been clandestine enough.

"I suppose you've informed your peers of this as well?" Jellico wondered. He had to be vague, since the President herself didn't know of the Council or S31 in order to grant her plausible deniability.

"They will be if you grant Commander P'ris' petition for asylum," Nechayev replied.

"If we grant it?" Bacco mused, "You do realize that woman will be dead within 24 hours if we don't."

Nechayev turned to the viewer that Jellico occupied, "I've been incommunicado. What's the status of the Breen squadron?"

"They're holding and so are we," Jellico said grimly, "We've ten ships monitoring the Breen with the remaining forty deployed throughout every approach into the system. The Romulans are doubtlessly going to make another grab at her so we've had to blockade our own solar system."

Bacco could see Nechayev's obvious displeasure at that news so she added, "I've had words with Ambassador Tezrene. She and the Typhon Pact governments she represents know full well that this incursion and the strike against Outbound Ventures are tantamount to an act of war."

'Forgive my saying so, Madame President, but we are in an undeclared state of war. The Romulans actively engaged two Starfleet starships while assaulting a civilian station and a privateer," Nechayev pointed out the fine print.

Bacco did the same, "A privateer who frequently works for Starfleet."

"That's beside the point. Numerous civilian assets contract with Starfleet, especially since we have lost 60% of our active service vessels over the last three years," Nechayev pointed out, "That fact alone shouldn't make Outbound Ventures a target."

"No, but it seems to have," Bacco retorted.

"I think any station or starship that Commander P'ris presented herself to would have become a target. Commander Macen and Outbound Ventures just happened to draw that fate," Nechayev postulated.

"Well, I've already decided to grant her request. She can have safe harbor within the Federation," Bacco announced.

"You don't think our own allies will grant asylum as well?" Nechayev asked.

"The Cardassians may and the Ferengi will depending on the profit margin in it for them," Bacco summarized, "But the Klingons will not support a Romulan, whether they are a defector or not."

"I was just thinking that because of the importance of the information and its theoretical impact upon the cohesiveness of the Typhon Pact that it might sway them into doing so this time," Nechayev offered.

Bacco smiled slyly, "Are you certain you aren't a politician, Admiral?"

"There are times I thought I was," Nechayev said ruefully.

"I'll present the argument to the Klingon Ambassador but Chancellor Martok probably won't weigh in until the information has a positive impact," Bacco warned.

"And how, exactly, are you going to present this information to the Gorn when they no longer have a diplomatic presence on Earth?" Nechayev wondered.

Bacco's sly smile returned, "I have a few old friends from my days as Governor of Cestus III. The information will be disseminated."

Nechayev accepted the assurance at face value, "How will we arrange for security for Commander P'ris?"

"We don't," Jellico said curtly, "She wants Macen's help and Macen's help alone? Let him deal with it."

Nechayev knew the bad blood between the SID operative and the C-in-C was as contentious as ever but that was no reason to risk a woman's life and she said as much. Jellico snorted.

"You've entrusted this clown with the fate of worlds on occasion and now you're worried that he can't protect one lone Romulan?" Jellico baited her.

"Eddie, you know how he'll protect her. He'll incorporate her into his team," Nechayev felt compelled to warn him.

"So?" Jellico sneered, "He's already got a mercenary, three former terrorists, which doesn't include Macen himself, two Angosian Augments, a Kelvan spy, and a hologram with a sex addiction. Have I missed anyone?"

"Amanda would know better than I off hand but I think you've covered it," Nechayev grated.

"Then I say more power to him," Jellico declared smugly.

"Eddie..." Nechayev began to protest.

"Case closed," Jellico said forcefully, "Or am I not being clear enough?"

"No," Nechayev said angrily, "You've been perfectly clear."

"What's the status of Macen's ship?" Jellico suddenly asked.

"Well, technically it's Captain Riker's ship..." she began to explain.

"Spare me the details of their convoluted chain of command. We all know who's really in charge," Jellico snapped at her, "Now what's the status of their damn ship?"

"It's undergoing assessment for repairs inside of Spacedock," Nechayev reported.

"Good, I'll see that the repairs take a week or so," Jellico mused, "That'll give 3rd Fleet time to report in and scare off the bloody Breen."

"Are we done here?" Nechayev asked.

Bacco was amused, witnessing the interaction between Nechayev and Jellico. She knew very well that Nechayev had seniority in grade as an admiral over Jellico but she had declined the top slot while Jellico had jumped at it, to his seeming regret now. Jellico was grooming Akaar to take over for him, assuming of course that Nechayev turned down the position again. Reading the Russian descended admiral, Bacco thought that outcome to be likely.

"I'm done," Bacco cheerfully announced.

"Yes," Jellico replied tersely, "Just remember what I've said."

Jellico's screen reverted to the Starfleet symbol. Bacco gave Nechayev a pitying smile and signed off to be replaced by the UFP seal. Nechayev snorted at Bacco's attempt to console her. She was used to Jellico by now. They'd once been friendly acquaintances and then he'd moved up the ranks and become a sitting member of the Council of 5. Learning the true scope of her activities and how she accomplished them had permanently damaged their friendship. The creation of the SID had only been the final nail in the coffin.

The Special Investigation Division had been born with a single team in play and that team had all been Starfleet regulars or irregulars given brevet ranks and run through basic training. The need for hiring irregulars had come from Macen's court martial and early retirement.

Nechayev mentally hiccupped at that thought. Macen had served in Starfleet since 2296 if you didn't discount his time infiltrating the Maquis from 2370-73. His return to active duty in 2373 to fight the Dominion had resulted in his promotion to Captain in 2375. His captaincy had been short lived. In 2376 he was permanently reduced in rank to Commander and two of his commands were practically vaporized.

He'd been convinced to retire and a Letter of Marque was presented to him. It was that Letter that the SID operated under. Although technically given to a captain of an individual ship, Macen was the ultimate master of his vessel. He'd simply hired a ship driver to fill the captain's role. Nechayev had to admit that had been a wise move on Macen's part.

Riker's aptitude made him a natural starship captain even if said starship was only a surveyor. The Obsidian had not endured nearly the punishment under Riker's watch. Under Macen's command, the poor ship had been rammed into the outer walls of a terrestrial fortress. It had taken Starfleet two weeks to extract the ship off of the surface, a week to tow her to the SPYards, and three months for the yard dogs to repair her.

Macen's proclivity towards destroying ships had earned him a very nasty reputation amongst the engineers at Utopia Planetia and especially amongst the SPYards personnel. Even the Obsidian's Chief Engineer shuddered at the thought of Macen retaking direct command.

And now the crew is going to be an open target for any Typhon Pact fleet captain that decides to settle a score, Nechayev thought bitterly. Although it wasn't like the SID team and the crew weren't used to being targets. The Omicron had made a special case out destroying Macen's commands, succeeding with the Eclipse. Bertram Sindis had also made Macen's team and ship objects of his wrath. Throwing the combined weight of the Orion Syndicate and the Meirkus Conglomeration at Macen, the Iridian had nearly killed Macen on more than one occasion and set up him for murder.

But no one had rivaled the Typhon Pact for sheer numbers and firepower. Except for maybe the Omicron, she reflected. And it wasn't as if he would abandon P'ris to the mercies of her former comrades. Macen would be fully dedicated to ensuring her safety all while making her as productive as possible.

Oh, what the hell? It's Amanda's purview. She's his employer and he's her asset. I'm just the one who gets yelled at when Amanda makes one of her rare mistakes, Nechayev mused. P'ris would be the SID's responsibility. She hated foisting the problem off on Forger but both P'ris and eventually Macen would insist upon it.

Nechayev idly wondered if Macen's unorthodox approach to life was about to catch up with in a major way?


Chapter Four

Thanks to Jellico's intervention, the repairs did indeed take a week to complete. Parva went from keenly interested to spastically frustrated. Daggit coaxed her off of the ship for her own sake as well as that of the yard dogs. They decided to enjoy Barbados and call it good since there were only two days left to their estimated stay. Daggit had possessed an open reservation on the island for over a year so it was a perfect opportunity to utilize it.

Hannah Grace met up with her husband. The USS Intrepid was in port and her Chief Tactical Officer availed himself of a weeklong leave in order to meet up with his Kelvan born wife. While Grace appeared utterly human on the exterior, Delaney was still beginning to appreciate how alien she truly was. It made her an exotic creature that he utterly adored.

The SID pilot had met Delaney while he was on a mission to Risa to support the SID team. She'd deftly disarmed him on their first encounter and it had taken him weeks afterwards to deduce how she'd done it. Her inhuman reflexes helped of course and that had been the part of the equation that had taken him the longest to figure out. At first he'd assumed she was genetically enhanced somehow but when she'd revealed her true origins Delaney had not only reacted positively but he'd also reacted amorously.

McMasters and the younger Forger sister went out for a weeklong tour of Europe. McMasters had been born on a colony world fated to be included in the Demilitarized Zone between Cardassia and the Federation. The DMZ was dismantled now and fully ceded to Cardassia in order to secure their support during the Borg and Argyn invasions. It was a decision that still rankled McMasters.

Forger had her own clouds in the past. Born Sean Forger, Shannon had faced intense scrutiny and pressure to fully transition into womanhood. Her pre-op status worried some and disgusted others. But then again, she occasionally found a man like McMasters that was seriously turned on by her sexuality. She was enjoying every spare moment even if it might be destined to ultimately come to a close. She'd at least enjoy the time that she had.

Riker and Danan enjoyed Kyle Riker's hospitality in Alaska. The elder Riker, now reconciled with both versions of his son, had grown increasingly feeble as he aged. His years abroad and battling foreign illnesses weighing heavily on him as their ultimate toll became revealed. He still easily had a few decades left to him but his doctors only speculated on how much time he had after that. At the end of the week, Danan reported to the Obsidian while Riker joined Macen on a long delayed quest.

Macen and Rockford showed P'ris and Radil the sights of Belfast and the surrounding countryside. Radil Jenrya was the Obsidian's Chief of Security and the SID team's Tactical Specialist. The truth was her skills were employed as P'ris' minder. This was a relatively easy duty since they were on Earth but still, things had been known to happen on Earth as well as any other planet.

Rockford led the other two women back to Spacedock and Macen scurried off to his other appointment with Riker. He'd shared his ambition and Rockford had merely bemoaned the fact that she'd known this day was coming. He'd remarked that she deserved a good spanking to which she inquired when?


Riker waited for Macen in the lobby of Utility Procurements Central in Nigeria. The clothier was the chief supplier of replicator patterns for Starfleet uniforms in all shapes and sizes. Macen had acquired several surplus patterns from them in the past and the crew seemed content to wander about in Starfleet surplus but he wanted to modernize the look of Outbound Ventures. He also wanted to homogenize the corporation's appearance across crews. He'd warned the other ships captains of what was going to transpire so that they could warn their personnel. Those working at Serenity Station would retain their use of the Starfleet Field Duty Uniforms of 2280-2340.

In the end, Macen played fast and loose with the rules governing the uniform choices. He opted on the pattern of the Starfleet Class B uniform of 2366-73 if not the color. It had been Macen's favorite uniform. Made famous by the crews of DS9, and especially Voyager, whose crew had retained the uniform choice 4 years longer than any other Starfleet personnel.

The jumpsuit's primary color remained a base black but the colored shoulder panels were altered into a forest green. The grey mock turtleneck undershirt remained untouched. Rank insignia for the collar were opted from the brevet tabs that Voyager's Maquis officers and crewmen had worn. Macen had acquired dispensation from Admiral Forger for that along with Captain Chakotay's blessing.

The two Command officers changed into their uniforms to model them for the crew. Accordingly, Macen wore a Commander's insignia while Riker alone bore the Captain's rank insignia. There couldn't be a divided command structure aboard a starship. They'd both learned that the hard way. Fortunately the lesson finally seemed to stick after the confusion while dealing with Solarian Security Systems.


The pair arrived aboard the Obsidian fashionably late. Macen uploaded the replicator patterns while Riker made the announcement of the uniform's adoption to the crew. There were some good natured groans but the crew realized that there had been a uniform code albeit a somewhat loose one. Everyone was given an hour to settle in and change attire. Afterwards, the Obsidian set sail.

Grace was flaunting her curves at Rockford, "Poor Ian got recalled just as I was leaving."

"At least he'll be busy so he won't have as much time to worry about you," Rockford consoled, "Is it permitted to ask where he's headed?"

Grace laughed, "It's okay. You're cleared for it since you're a member of the team. The Intrepid is delivering Admiral Johnson and Ambassador Picard to Andoria."

"I'd heard things were getting tense between the Federation and the Andorian Empire. The news feeds were full of horror stories of how thousands of Andorians had abruptly resigned their positions and jobs within the Federation and returned to Andoria," Rockford shared, "The chaos that created extended to daily life down on Earth."

"Tell me about it," Grace ruefully agreed, "Ian almost didn't get to take his leave because Jim and Jonathan are trying to shore up the personnel openings. Luckily, Ian had a couple of candidates firmed up and BuPers cut their orders the morning we set out."

"I take it McKinley and Stryker aren't having as easy a go at it?" Rockford mused.

"Not with the losses Starfleet's endured over the last 3 years," Grace replied, "Everyone is essential and everyone is needed at their current post."

"So how did Ian manage to convince the Bureau of Personnel to free up his transfers?" Rockford wondered.

"He threatened to put his entire department in for promotions. That would effectively transfer his entire unit off of Intrepid since their newly achieved ranks would require them to assume more responsibility and that could only be achieved at another posting," Grace described the situation with a mirthful twinkle in her eye.

"I am sooo happy I never joined Starfleet," Rockford gratefully admitted.

"Didn't they approach you when they needed Augments to fill the commando units?" Grace asked, knowing that Rockford had the newfound ability to answer such a question.

Rockford grinned ruefully, "They did. However, I was smart enough to say 'no'."

"You do seem to have an attitude when it comes to Starfleet," Grace wryly observed.

"They wanted to use me. Hell, they wanted to use all of us. What was the reward? A potential treatment for the psychological conditioning and physical enhancements. And they'd grant membership for Angosia to the UFP. It was because they created us and abandoned us that the Angosian government's petition for membership was denied in the first place," Rockford angrily recited, "At least as a mercenary I was well paid for being used."

"But you weren't a mercenary," Grace pointed out.

Rockford's expression became rueful, "No, I wasn't but Annika was. Sometimes I think I have a serious title problem ever since her various psyches were merged into mine. I remember everything all of the various personalities did as though I did them but it wasn't me. Not really."

"I suggest you talk to Lees. Joined Trills know all about this stuff," Grace offered, "She can probably offer you a world of advice."

Rockford's grin turned wry, "I just may have to do that."

"So, where was Captain Ro during our festive shore leave?" Grace wondered.

Rockford smirked, "Ro got called back to Bajor. Starfleet Command was worried the Typhon Pact might get past the 9th Fleet and make a push for the wormhole."

"Okay, that's fine and dandy, but you two seem to be getting on better since the Argyn crisis," Grace observed.

"Actually, the breakthrough occurred before the crisis by a couple of days," Rockford shared, "We had a meeting of the minds."

"Oh really?" Grace said teasingly, "With T'Kir that could be taken literally. But you? How exactly did your minds meet?"

"We had a chat," Rockford said meekly.

"A chat chat or an I'm gonna throw you out an airlock chat?" Grace wondered.

"Do you really think I'd do that?" Rockford was affronted.

"In a heartbeat," Grace laughed.

Rockford was slightly abashed, "I'm not sure if I would've before the Argyn but I sure as hell would now."

"Just out of curiosity, what did you do with Commander P'ris while the rest of us frolicked and played?" Grace wanted to know.

"We showed her the sights. Jenrya kept tabs on her so we actually got to relax most of the time. I think little Miss Jenrya even put the moves on her once or twice," Rockford shared.

"That wouldn't surprise me," Grace chuckled, "According to Lees, P'ris swings both ways."

"Really?" Rockford was surprised, "That wasn't my impression."

"What was your impression?" Grace wondered.

"That she sees everything non-Romulan as a bug," Rockford stated.

"Everything except Brin, you mean," it was Grace's turn to smirk.

"Yes, I had noticed that," Rockford replied dryly.

"So, what're you going to do about it?" Grace was dying to know.

"Nothing," came Rockford's simple reply.

"Nothing?" Grace couldn't believe her ears.

"If I do anything, it'll just reinforce her fixation," Rockford explained, "But she'll grow out of being enamored if Brin doesn't respond."

"And if he does?" Grace pointedly asked.

Rockford frowned, "Then I kill him and space her."

"Amen to that, sister," Grace laughed.


The Breen had withdrawn when a dozen more Starfleet vessels arrived. The units assembled outside of Sector 001 and then entered as a squadron. There were one Himalaya-class heavy cruiser, two Venus-class light cruisers, two Tanganyika-class light cruisers, three Splendor-class destroyers, and two Pacifica-class light cruisers. The difficulty lay in the fact that all of these starships had been decommissioned over the last twenty years. They'd all been constructed between 2330-2350. Other classes pressed back into service included the Ambassador-class, the New Orleans-class, the Centaur-class, the Springfield-class, and the Niagara-class. Older runabouts such as the Mosquito-class had also been returned to active duty.

Starfleet's losses over the course of the Borg invasion and the Argyns' "litmus test" had necessitated the reactivation of mothballed ships. Personnel shortages and created a swelling need for enlisted crewmen with fewer officers. The bulk of Starfleet was now comprised of enlisted men and women. Experienced officers were in staggeringly short supply.

The bulk of the experienced crews were aboard the Sovereign-, Vespa-, and Luna-class explorers deployed on extraterritorial exploration. Most of the Luna-class ships were exploring the Beta Quadrant with the USS Titan, captained by Will Riker, leading the charge.

The Vespa-class ships were primarily deployed beyond the Bajoran wormhole in the Gamma Quadrant. Their slipstream drives made it easier for them to return to safer borders if recalled. Captain Ezri Dax and the crew of the USS Aventine were the leaders in that pursuit.

The vaunted flagship of the fleet, the USS Enterprise, was now commanded by Captain Data. Data's memory ingrams had surfaced within the framework of his older sibling B4 and he'd redesignated himself as Data upon his "awakening". The Enterprise was the leading edge of a squadron of Sovereign-class vessels that had journeyed beyond Cardassian territory and were delving deeply into the Alpha Quadrant.

The bulk of the Galaxy- and Nebula-class ships were assigned to short range exploration and defensive patrols. The chief examples of this were the USS Excalibur and the USS Trident patrolling Sector 221-G. Their siblings were spread across explored space working primarily as troubleshooters.

The Saber- and Steamrunner-class vessels were primarily assigned to border patrols. Interior patrols were carried out by starship belonging to the Akira-, Defiant-, Challenger-, Cheyenne-, and Freedom-classes. Yeager-class starships patrolled individual sectors backed by the reinstated older ships.

When it came to individual commands, the USS Hood was currently operating in support of Deep Space 3. The Defiant patrolled the Bajoran sector while the Monitor and the Merrimack were up to their usual skullduggery. The Intrepid had reported to Andoria.

The only ship that seemed to have fallen off of the grid was the Voyager. During the Borg crisis, a new race had been inadvertently contacted. The self proclaimed "Children of the Storm" had successfully beaten back centuries' worth of Borg incursions. These "Children" resided in the Delta Quadrant.

A small group of three starships had been sent to contact the Children and potentially sway them into an alliance with the Federation. Those three ships had fallen silent on the advent of contacting the Children and hadn't been heard from since. Voyager was being sent in on a potential rescue operation.

It was felt that Captain Chakotay's experience in the Delta quadrant would grant him some understanding into the Children's mindset and the imperatives that drove it. While only his XO, Commander Tom Paris, and his 2nd Officer, Lt. Commander Harry Kim, were from the fabled "lost" crew that still meant the majority of the Senior Officers had the necessary experience and adapted skills at dealing the Delta Quadrant species. Added to their knowledge this time however were Macen's exploration logs when he'd been an A & A Officer with the El-Aurian Expeditionary Forces. These logs not only covered species that Voyager had directly encountered but also over two hundred more that they'd never approached.


All of this meant that the Obsidian's path was unimpeded when she departed Spacedock. Still, she was escorted by the Splendor-class USS Tsunami. The destroyer accompanied the surveyor to the Bajoran sector. Ro and the Defiant traversed the sector. When they reached the accompanying sector, an Outbound Ventures ship intercepted them and took up escort duties while the Defiant returned to her patrol of the sector.

The Shogun-class SS Spearhead took up her duties without complaint. Her crew had just completed a contract that required them ward of pirates near the Aelyn system. The Spearhead had tracked down and destroyed the pirates' lair and crippled three pirate craft. They'd been collected by the Aelynee security forces. Unfortunately, two of the pirates had escaped.

The Spearhead stayed on station for two weeks but the Aelynee government tired of paying Outbound Ventures when there was no imminent threat. The light cruiser had withdrawn, much to the relief of the crew, and returned to Serenity. There they found the station in the midst of repairing itself and the USS Burnett keeping close tabs on the solar system.

Outbound Ventures had recently spent latinum and gift credits to acquire several ships. They were all decommissioned Starfleet vessels built between 2307-2330. There was the Spearhead. And then there was the Lancelot-class SS Guinevere and the Sirius-class SS Dog Star. All of these ships were light cruisers and were rated for crews between 180-292. Excluding the scientific specialists brought those numbers down to 120-200. This had required a massive hiring drive to meet the necessary numbers.

Two more ships were also acquired. The Andor-class transport SS Lug Nut joined the corporate fleet as did the Newton-class research vessel SS Copernicus. The Lug Nut often pulled convoy duty and additionally carried valued cargo as well. The Copernicus acted as a mobile sensor platform and scientific support ship. When another Outbound Ventures unit needed their specialized skills they were dispatched to the scene. Both starships were minimally armed and didn't even boast photon launchers.

Unlike the Obsidian which had been overhauled by the SPYards in order to exceed its original design specification maximum speed of Warp 8, the Spearhead still maxed out at the design limited Warp 7.5. Initially intended as an exploration vessel, it utilized components from the Franklin- and Miranda-classes. Only four ships had been constructed post 2307 and the last one had only recently left Starfleet service as a member of the interior defenses. The other three ships had been acquired by rival security firms. Even the restructured Solarian Security Systems corporate entity had been allowed to purchase two.

The bulk of the Lancelot- and Sirius- class ships were mothballed but some also went into the ranks of security services. Solarian had acquired three of each. Meanwhile all of the decommissioned Andor-class transports entered civilian service. Most were taken by shipping concerns for dealing with especially valuable cargo. Most of the retired Newton-class ships had their sensor platforms gutted out of them and were redesignated as transports. Some scientific foundations used intact examples to replace their venerable Oberth-class ships if they couldn't rate a modern Nova-class surveyor.

Jonathan Pryce, the CO of the Spearhead, commed Riker. Riker took the signal in his Ready Room, much to the chagrin of Forger. Pryce's image filled Riker's screen and he knew the other man was situated in his personal cabin. Starfleet vessels from the turn of the century didn't boast amenities like Ready Rooms. Pryce seemed amused by something so Riker asked what it was.

Pryce waved it away, "I was just remembering when you commanded the Indomitable. You were pretty shaken up from the loss of the George Kelly but you were chewing deuterium to get the Indie into action."

"And this is amusing because...?" Riker knew this had to be going somewhere.

"We, that is the rest of the Outbound Ventures captains and I, always felt your true place was on the Obsidian. It was good of Macen to finally step aside," Pryce explained, "That man is a singular menace when he's in command of a starship."

Riker shared Pryce's amusement, "I'm not going to disagree."

"Where is Brin? Is he still aboard?" Pryce asked. There seemed to be something on his mind.

"Of course he is," Riker said good naturedly, wondering where the pitfall lay, "We're just laying into port for a couple of days before setting out on a new mission. We have a rather interesting contract to fulfill."

"I suppose he's babysitting her while you return to port?" Pryce asked

Aha, Riker thought but he decided to play dumb, "To whom would you be referring?"

"That Romulan," Pryce nearly spat, "I talked to Zyrain. I know the whole story. Macen risked the lives of everyone on this station and your crew for some Tal Shiar bitch."

"That 'Tal Shiar bitch' provided Starfleet with vital information that will prevent a war and possibly tear the Typhon Pact apart," Riker replied in steely tones, "Millions of lives may be owed to her and now she's branded as traitor and a wanted criminal by her own people because of it. You may want to judge less and thank her more."

Pryce's face lost all its color, "I didn't... I mean, how were we to know?"

"You weren't supposed to," Riker answered, "The information is so classified most of us don't know it."

"Do you?" Pryce wondered.

"Brin decided I needed to know since her presence might affect the safety of the ship and crew. P'ris shared some information with me and all I can tell you is it's a damned good thing she defected," Riker shared.

"You call her 'P'ris"?" Pryce wondered.

"It's her name," Riker said drolly, "Besides it's not like she's a Commander in the Tal Shiar anymore."

"But the way you said it, it's like you expect her to be around for awhile," Pryce observed.

Riker's expression turned rueful, "Brin signed a contract with her for her own protection. As long as she's in danger we have to protect her. The problem is, she's in permanent danger until the Empress pardons her or there's a change of government that decided to do the same."

"But why does that affect you?" Pryce wanted to know.

Riker took a deep breath and plunged on in, "Because Brin's making her pay for the privilege. In order for her to afford our services she has to work them off. In lieu of giving her a meaningless desk job, where we wouldn't be able to protect her anyway, he's put her on the SID team where her experience can count."

"He's put her on the team? He's willing to trust a Romulan when the company's captains don't even know what the hell you people get up to?" Pryce fumed.

"She already knew," Riker dryly commented.

"I'm going to have to meet this Romulan and tell her what I think of her," Pryce snapped.

"I wouldn't if I were you," Riker advised, "She's liable to take your head off."

"We'll just see about that," Pryce cut the connection and left Riker grinning.

Yes, we will, he mused.


Chapter Five

The Captains and First Officers of the corporate "fleet" gathered in the briefing room dedicated to the Obsidian's crew aboard Serenity. Pryce was there along with his XO, Felicia Kendel. Also present were the Guinevere's Captain and XO, Jennifer Gardner and Anastasia Slutskaya respectively. Captain Anyer Forgoen and Jarro Wen represented the Dog Star while Captain Bek vac Fok and Krysta were on hand for the Lug Nut. Rounding out the crews were Captain Marta Haggit and her XO, Deidre Wash. An unexpected, but equally concerned, guest was Station Administrator Ephrim Zyrain.

Macen faced them all down. Rockford sat next to him in order to provide moral support and her own expert opinion on P'ris. Her evaluation would be highly regarded because of her experience establishing the Rockford Agency as a premier private investigation firm. Riker and Forger represented the Obsidian and would speak for the ship's crew rather than the SID team.

At the epicenter of the attention was P'ris herself. Macen felt it was only fair that she get to face her accusers. Although he could effectively pull rank and try and force her presence down their throats he knew it was far more effective, and reasonable, to allow P'ris to plead her case and sell her own solution. P'ris knew the stakes involved yet she seemed unperturbed. She'd had previous dealings with the Reunification Movement, perhaps she'd learned something from them?

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is P'ris. She's an expatriate from the Romulan Star Empire and a former Commander in the Tal Shiar," Macen announced. There was a lot of stirring and accusatory glares sent his way upon this revelation, "P'ris has been assigned quarters aboard both Serenity and the Obsidian. I've made her a member of my SID team and I expect you to treat her accordingly."

There were defiant stares at that request. Macen sighed, "Why don't you address your questions directly to her and get this over with?"

"Just who the hell do you think you are, lady?" Pryce fired the first salvo.

"I do believe I am all of the items that Commander Macen listed as well as the bearer of one other notable distinction," P'ris replied.

"And what is that?" Gardner wondered.

"Commander Macen has authorized me, on behalf of the SID, to share my account with you. This information is not to be disseminated," P'ris warned them. She then explained the Star Empire's overtures urging the Gorn Hegemony towards war and the Empire's plans to second the Gorn as a client race. She shared with items in her past, such as the abortive Rihannsu colonies, the prevention of the sale of trilithium devices, and her own efforts in defiance of the Praetor's wishes to save as many of her people as possible from the Hobus disaster.

"At first I saw Empress Donatra as a moderate, if not a progressive, but since the rise of Proconsul Sela the government has became increasingly polarized against the Federation. The Typhon Pact was intended to mitigate the need for saber rattling yet here we are, being even more intransigent than ever," P'ris described her situation, "The Star Empire and the Federation may never be allies but at least we can be respectful of one another's wishes and territories. I have witnessed the Federation's efforts in this area over the last fifteen years as marked by your standard stardates. The Empire has been aided and assisted by the Federation during the Reman coup and the Hobus incident. Countless billions of lives have been spared privation and death yet the Empress, who was witness to all of these events, turns her back on even an uneasy truce. This cannot stand."

"But why take such a drastic measure?" Slutskaya asked, "Are you that friendly towards the Federation?"

P'ris' lips twisted up in a wry expression, "Admittedly no."

Fok, letting his Tellarite cultural inclinations get the better of him, demanded to know why she'd bothered then. Krysta, his Orion XO, concurred. Forgoen, Gardner, and Pryce all jumped on that bandwagon to be swiftly followed by their First Officers. Finally, even Haggit and Wash joined in agreement with the others.

P'ris was decidedly amused, "You are all so blind."

That comment did nothing to endear her in their hearts and minds. Seeing their reluctance to move past their biases, she decided to encourage them, "You have all lived within the Federation for so long you do not see its seductive power."

All the little noises and whispered comments ceased so she pressed on, "Oh yes, the Federation is the ultimate seductress. Guaranteed rights, freedom of ideas, speech, and expression. The goal of peaceful exploration and eventual assimilation of other worlds through friendship and mutual respect, this is what my government fears. If the common people were to ever know the truth about you, they would wish to join you in your noble pursuit. This would threaten the power structure of the Empire, which is built on fear and repression. The Code of Orthodoxy would be repealed as it was discovered that each citizen could remain uniquely themselves and Romulan to the core while embracing our brothers and sisters amongst the stars."

"I did what have done for the good of my own people. We would demean and belittle ourselves with this course of action," P'ris let that statement sink in; "The side effect that this can also drawn our two nations closer together is a secondary benefit."

"You admit that you're a Romulan patriot yet you have no love for the Empress. How can you reconcile those facts?" Kendel inquired sharply.

"Do you always approve of your elected officials?" P'ris sparred with her, "I do not approve or disapprove of the Empress. I will state however that my people successfully did without a monarch for over a millennia so I do not fathom the need for one now."

"I will also baldly state that the Typhon Pact is doomed to failure, whether sooner or later, it will fracture and implode. We shall all be lucky if its various members do not end up in a state of war with one another. Such a war would inevitably draw in the Khitomer Accord nations and then chaos and havoc would win the day," P'ris predicted.

"I cannot allow this to happen," she boldly declared, "If you object to any part of this say so now for I am committed to my cause."

A hush fell over the room as they each pondered the full import of her words. Finally Jarro Wen broke the silence. The young Bajoran had been stigmatized back home for her kinsman's role in the Circle conspiracy. She'd left Bajor to seek her own destiny free of Bajoran society's prejudices.

"I think you should stay," she proclaimed.

Every eye turned in her direction and she swallowed hard, "I can completely relate with your motives and your reasoning. I agree that our peoples need to learn to look past our misperceptions of one another and learn to get along. You may be reviled back in the Star Empire today but I think you'll eventually be vindicated in the eyes of your people."

P'ris was touched and it showed, "Thank you...truly."

Haggit ushered the other officers out of the room. Before she herself stepped out she turned back and faced P'ris, "You'll have our response momentarily."

"Well, this has certainly been a day of surprises," P'ris bleakly remarked.

"Don't give up yet," Macen counseled.

"You've got Jarro Wen on your side and Captain Forgoen is no fool. He knows enough to trust her instincts," Rockford added.

"And the others?" P'ris ruefully asked.

"Anyer holds a lot of weight with Jonathan, Jennifer, Bek, and Marta," Macen revealed, "Like all of them he's ex-Starfleet. However, unlike the rest of them, he turned down a command to turn privateer."

P'ris' eyebrow arched and she wore a very droll, Oh, really? expression.

"Amanda and Christine helped me recruit the captains and crews that are now members of Outbound Ventures. We used to have more ships and crews but the Iotians took care of that at the behest of Solarian Security Systems," Macen explained.

"Word of your struggle against Solarian even reached our borders," P'ris shared, "Of course; the Fleet would have nothing to do with that information. They blindly insisted it was a dispute between rival corporations and left it at that."

"It was," Macen agreed with that summation, "But something was motivating Solarian and I do mean besides Ezexial."

"Was he not the Omicrons' advance scout?" P'ris asked.

"Yup," Macen confirmed her suspicion, "He promised them technology transfers in exchange for our destruction."

"Yet you feel that there was more to it," P'ris surmised.

"Solarian risked more than a slap on the wrist. They risked everything. Their entire livelihood came from Starfleet. Why bite the hand that feeds you by blatantly violating every law governing privateer operations and their Letters of Marque?" Macen inquired.

"I see your point," P'ris conceded, "The reward must be worth the risk. Enough to supplant Starfleet's employment if need be."

"Celeste has had her agency discreetly looking into it," Macen chose to reveal.

"And what have you found, Detective?" P'ris wondered.

"There wasn't a lot to go on but my people are tenacious," Rockford answered, "They've recently found a paper trail but it contains material way over their pay grade."

"Most unfortunate," P'ris offered insincere condolences.

"That's where you come in," Macen said with a mirthful grin.

"I come in where?" P'ris hoped her translator was having difficulties again and Macen wasn't suggesting what she was fairly certain he was implying.

"You're going to help Celeste track down the trail and find out where it ultimately leads," Macen's expression only grew more amused by the second.

"Will she take direction?" P'ris wanted to know.

"I don't think you're quite grasping the reality of the situation," Macen's grin was truly becoming insufferable she thought, "You're following her lead."

"What?!" P'ris indignantly exclaimed, "I am a Commander in the Tal Shiar not some congested rookie."

"I hate to be the one to break this to you, P'ris, but you aren't a Commander in anything anymore. You're not even a legal resident. The best appellation that can be applied to you is civilian. That is, of course, if you leave out the whole fugitive issue," Macen said gently.

Macen could see that P'ris had fire in her eyes and in her belly but she slowly reasoned it out. Comporting herself with as much dignity as she could, she addressed Rockford; "Very well, Detective, how shall we proceed?"

Rockford's grin was just as insufferable as Macen's, "Well, assuming you aren't tossed out an airlock in the near future, I thought we'd gather round at my office and I'd brief you on what we have so far."

"That is...agreeable," P'ris hated to give an inch but it was Rockford's due.

"Good, then we'll take you to your assigned quarters and then..." Rockford paused as the doors to the briefing room slid open. The starship commanders entered in. Haggit stood in the center of the crowd facing P'ris. It seemed she was the designated spokesperson.

"We discussed it and we've reached a consensus. Before I relay that to you, I think it's best you understand why we had to," Haggit stated, "Your presence here places our lives in jeopardy. Risk is something we live with everyday but usually we know the 'why' of it. You've shared the why, and in turn, implied how grave that risk is."

"In turn you've pretty much risked or given up everything to be here today," Haggit conceded, "Yours is the life in primary jeopardy. You sacrificed your career, your standing, and presumably your family to do our worlds a service. We, in turn, can do no less. We support your continuing presence and will place ourselves in harm's way in your defense."

P'ris was on the verge of being choked up, "I thank you."

Macen rose, "If that's all, we have to get P'ris to her new quarters and I have a several meetings to attend to."

"Where are you headed now?" Fok asked.

Macen grinned, "It's better that I don't tell you at this point."

There was a collective groan at that. The Outbound Ventures captain and XO's went their separate ways. Macen asked Riker to accompany him to their station-side office. Forger volunteered to help show P'ris to her quarters while Rockford gathered her files in her office and waited for P'ris to arrive.


Later in her quarters, the Romulan looked around and finally said, "It is so Cardassian."

Forger laughed, "Purportedly that's what T'Kir said upon seeing her new quarters."

A cloud passed over P'ris' face, "Does Commander Macen miss her?"

"Not as much as he used to," Forger confessed.

"Because of Detective Rockford?" P'ris wondered.

"There is that but I think it's more because of the fact that T'Kir is back to being alive," Forger revealed.

"Truly?" P'ris' eyes lit up.

"Yeah, it all had to do with a katra and something called a fal-tor-pan," Forger related, "Frankly I don't know what to believe."

"Yes, the Vulcan mystics are purported to be able to convey the essence of one being into another's body," P'ris stated, "Where is T'Kir then?"

Forger shrugged, "She's on Vulcan mastering the art of something called kohlinar."

Recognition lit up in P'ris' eyes, "Ah yes, the so-called art of purging all emotion."

"Anyway, Macen says she looks pretty happy. Hannah agrees with him so I guess everything is fine," Forger shared.

Amusement laced every one of P'ris' words, "Isn't happiness and emotion?"

Forger looked flummoxed, "Okay. So the exact word they used was 'serene'. Happy now?"

"Giddy," P'ris chuckled.

"So, are we getting the rest of your belongings now?" Forger wondered, "I mean, we stopped by your shuttle but that can't be everything."

"I am afraid that it is," P'ris admitted, "Running for one's life only allows you to gather pre-prepared items."

"Well, we'll have to change that," Forger declared, "There are some excellent shops on the Promenade. We'll hit a couple of clothiers on the way to Celeste's office. Sound good?"

"It seems I have little choice," P'ris wryly conceded.

"First things first," Forger decided, "We need to issue you a company uniform."

P'ris was shocked, "Really?"

Forger grinned, "Macen said you were a member of the team. The team wears the corporate uniform, at least it does now that we have a corporate uniform."

"I just assumed that I would be excluded," P'ris admitted.

"Honey, you're going to be a tempting target in that get up. Everyone will know who you are," Forger consoled her.

"Hmmm...I suppose you are correct," P'ris conceded.

"Stand here," Forger directed her. She activated the replicator. Requesting the desired pattern, she activated the replicator's sensor grid and P'ris' measurements were taken using the room's internal sensors. It then fabricated a jumpsuit, a mock turtleneck, underwear, boots, and a utility belt. P'ris began to change, first stripping out of her old attire, showering, and putting the new.

As she slid the underwear on, Forger grinned; "You're lucky. I have to customize mine. Same with my swimsuits.

"Yes, how do you account for your..." P'ris faltered and then she recovered, "You were born male were you not?"

"Back in the dark ages," Forger shared, "That was a literal lifetime ago. I barely remember those days."

"But how do you accommodate your genitalia?" P'ris wondered.

"Through stuffed panels to make the area flatten out and seem proportional," Forger explained, "Don't you have T-Gurls in the Star Empire?"

"There...are a few," P'ris said cautiously.

"So what happens to them?" Forger wanted to know.

Although P'ris had expected the question, she dreaded the answer just the same; "If they are discovered they are imprisoned...or worse. In prison they are forced to assume the sex they were born into and no accommodations are made for them. They generally die from sexual abuse from the other prisoners."

Forger was appalled, "That's barbaric!" Forger struggled with her outrage for a moment and then a decidedly nasty thought crept into her consciousness, "Have you ever rounded up any transsexuals and sentenced them to that?"

"No," P'ris assured her, "But then I had a personal motive. My elder sister was once my brother. I established new identities for her and several of her friends on a colony world. No one ever reported them so it is best assumed that she is all right."

"Why haven't you ever visited her so you'd know for yourself?" Forger coldly asked.

P'ris sighed, "It would only draw attention to her."

Seeing Forger didn't understand, P'ris elaborated; "My contacts and visitations were carefully monitored. If I visited a strange woman on an outer colony without provocation they would investigate her and her secret might come out."

"They spied on you?" Forger was stunned; "I thought it was your job to spy on everyone else."

"It was," P'ris shared, "All the members of the Tal Shiar place each other under surveillance. It ensures loyalty.

"No wonder the Tal Shiar is comprised of paranoid bastards," Forger cracked and then she blanched, "Sorry.

"Have no fears, I am not offended. Quite the contrary, I quite agree with you," P'ris said.

Something finally clicked with Forger, "You seemed awfully interested in T'Kir's whereabouts. Was that idle curiosity or is there something behind that?"

P'ris wore a rueful smile, "It is a matter for another day."

"P'ris, we're not leaving until I get an answer," Forger warned.

That amused P'ris, "I even believe you would put up a fair fight. Very well, did you know T'Kir is a member of the Noble Families of Romulus?"

"I thought she was Vulcan," Forger countered.

"She is but her stepfather was a Romulan. A highly placed Romulan directly descended from the Imperial line. When he adopted T'Kir, he made her his heir in Romulan eyes as well as Vulcan," P'ris explained.

"Oh. My. God. You want to put T'Kir on the throne!" Forger suddenly grasp the gist of it.

P'ris shushed her, "Shhh. This is a conversation for another day. Promise me you will not speak of it with anyone else."

"Not even during pillow talk?" Forger squirmed.

"No one, especially not Macen," P'ris requested.

"Fine I won't tell anyone. Not even Eric or Macen," Forger agreed.

Amusement tickled P'ris, "Why do you refer to your fellow officers by their given names except for Commander Macen? I though you and he held the same shipboard rank?"

Forger look discomfited, "Commander Macen outranked me in Starfleet and he was my Captain before Captain Riker took over. And he is the Mission Commander so even Captain Riker answers to him in that capacity."

Seeing P'ris' droll expression, Forger huffed, "It just seems wrong to call him by his given name."

"In that we are agreed," P'ris reassured her, "Now, we have very little time before my meeting with Detective Rockford and you were saying something about clothiers?"

"Right! Follow me!" Forger led her out, "After you're done with Celeste, you can have Radil issue your equipment."

P'ris' lips twisted into a wry grimace so Forger asked, "What? Does this have something to do with Radil?"

"Your Radil has made several suggestive offers to me since I came aboard the Obsidian and during out time on Earth," P'ris divulged.

"Yeah, but she's aboard Serenity now so that won't happen," Forger assured her.

P'ris' words were laced with dry humor, "And what difference does the location bring?"

"Her husband is stationed on Serenity," Forger shared.

"Elements! She's married?" P'ris didn't believe it.

"Well, they have an understanding," Forger tried to explain without going into detail.

"What kind of understanding?" P'ris grated.

Forger sighed, "She can sleep with any woman she wants to but he's to be the only man for her."

"And what kind of emasculated simpleton agrees to such terms?" P'ris was truly disturbed by this.

"Actually, you've met him. He's the station CMO," Forger shared.

"The Klingon?!" P'ris stopped abruptly as she let loose of that outburst. They'd exited the crossover bridge and were now on the Promenade. Several other pedestrians turned at the sudden noise and seemed amused by the flummoxed Romulan.

"Keep it down, will ya?" Forger hissed, "Kort's not your average Klingon. He thinks with something other than his mishveks."

"He doesn't think with them at all," P'ris hotly declared.

Forger dragged P'ris into the closest clothing store, "They're happy with the arrangements. If you have a problem with it or the attention you're receiving I suggest you take it up with Radil personally. Understood?"

Forger realized she'd used her "command" voice and demeanor. P'ris actually seemed relieved by this.

"Yes, Commander. I shall heed your advice." P'ris assured her.

"Good, now let's look at their catalog," Forger suggested.

P'ris readily agreed.


Chapter Six

Forger took P'ris to the Rockford Agency's station-side office. It had transformed into the hub office when Rockford herself moved from Laos IV to Serenity. Since the various agencies were now reporting the Outbound Ventures it made sense to move their support staff as well. Only two other investigators of the roughly two dozen detectives employed by the Rockford Agency worked out of the Serenity office. However, next to Rockford herself, they were the best.

Her two detectives had put countless billing hours into researching the Solarian document trail before they unearthed the elusive link to their mysterious backers. Those two agents were greatly relieved to hand off the case to their boss.

One of the office's aides intercepted P'ris and Forger. Forger explained the scenario and the aide was relieved. She was beginning to think the former security services agent was going to run a little late. Forger wished P'ris well and the Romulan glanced back with a rueful smile.

Now comes the true litmus test, Forger thought as she headed for Quark's. Everyone had noticed the tension P'ris felt around Rockford. No one was entirely certain as to why, except for the possible exception of Hannah Grace, but Forger felt as though Macen had thrown P'ris to the wolves in a case of sink or learn to tread water.

Inside Rockford's inner office, P'ris took a moment to gaze around. When she'd finished her assessment she noticed that Rockford was observing her carefully. She looked rather bemused.

"Am I a source of amusement, Detective?" P'ris had to ask.

"Not really. I'm just waiting to see how long you'll dangle before you ask me to throw you a life line," Rockford confessed, "I have a feeling we could be here for a long time before that happens so I'm going to save us a little time." Rockford's eyes bored into P'ris' with a rather unnerving intensity, "I'm not out to get you. I'm not even going to run interference between you and Brin despite your obvious fixation on him." She held up a hand to ward off a futile protest, "Face facts, Commander. You are fixated. It's perfectly reasonable even. Brin is literally the only person you know and trust within the Federation."

Rockford's gaze intensified, "I'd like to offer you a hand, if not in friendship then in camaraderie. Our lives are going to depend upon one another and I want you to know that yours rests comfortably with me."

"Yet you say nothing of yours resting with me," P'ris noted.

"To be fair, I don't know you well enough to trust you with my life," Rockford admitted, "And before you use that argument with me. You know Brin and you know the esteem he holds me in. Would he lightly place his faith in anyone?"

"No," P'ris conceded.

"And in perspective, he places a measure of trust in you. Which is why I'm willing to sacrifice my safety for you," Rockford shared.

"It seems we have an accord then," P'ris realized.

Rockford was pleased, "Then take a seat at the secondary desk. I've already punched up the necessary files and highlighted which ones I want you to explore."

"Do you always have an auxiliary station in your offices, Detective?" P'ris wondered.

"It saves time when you're working with someone if you can converse with them directly while you network a united front against the problem," Rockford shared, "And it's Celeste."

A slight smile tugged at P'ris' lips, "Very well, Celeste. I shall get started."

"Will you have any difficulties with Federation databases?" Rockford asked.

"No, I am quite comfortable with them," P'ris confessed as she sat down too work.

"I just bet you are," Rockford murmured to herself. She missed P'ris' smile at the comment.


Leera's image filled Macen's viewer. Riker was eavesdropping by piggybacking the signal, seeing but unseen. Orions were known for their strikingly beautiful women. Parva could literally take your breath away and the Lug Nut's XO, Krysta, was not ugly by any stretch of the imagination. Leera beat them both, hands down. She had a beauty rivaling a Tzenkethi female's.

The Tzenkethi were all ethereal and soft curves and Leera was also graced with supple lines and gentle curves. She'd made her way to the pinnacle of the Orion Syndicate only to be superseded by Robhurt B'nner's rebellious act of appointing Bertram Sindis his heir. Sindis had proven immune to her pheromone laced charms and Leera had been left out in the cold.

Sindis' death provided a window of opportunity and Leera took overt control of the Syndicate. Possessing no proxy with whom to maneuver, she steered the Syndicate's interest openly. This generated great unrest amongst the Syndicate's dons. While they appreciated the Syndicate being returned to control of an Orion, they balked at a female flaunting herself for the entire Quadrant to see.

Only Jonathan Archer had ever been confronted with the truth behind the Syndicate's power structure and those findings had long since been buried through discreet bribes which afforded the Syndicate's purges of the official records. During the Vanguard mission, an Orion trader habitually docked at Starbase 47. The truth behind its Orion master and his mistress was suspected but it was never confirmed.

Leera needed to solidify her position and she needed to do so immediately before the traditionalist faction toppled her. She had no desire for a proxy. Slaves, certainly, but no one to stand in her place. She would take what she wanted when she wanted it and the consequences be damned.

When Leera ousted her rival for the Syndicate's throne, Enrick Gaston, returned to the Meirkus Conglomeration and tightened his hold on Mityr and left The Orion Confederacy to Leera. This wasn't to say that they didn't compete. The Conglomeration's agents began to crop up everywhere within the Syndicate's traditional markets. The grumblers within the Syndicate immediately took issue with Leera and she in turn gathered her most trusted lieutenants.

The Andorian, Shar, offered the current operational plan. The Orion forces and free traders would gather outside of Conglomerate space and then stage an invasion. While there was widespread support for such an option, there was one caveat. Shar's plan called for hiring Outbound Ventures. More the point, it specifically called for hiring Brin Macen and the crew of the Obsidian.

Many quailed at this requirement. Shar argued that Macen and his team had successfully penetrated the Citadel complex that Gaston operated out of. That experience would prove invaluable since Gaston was to be taken alive and bartered for certain concessions and an infusion of latinum.


"So, you've decided to accept my offer," Leera exuded charm and sensuality. The word "offer" was loaded with innuendo.

"I'll be happy to accept in exchange for the terms agreed upon," Macen countered.

Leera pouted, "Yes, it will be done."

"What will be done?" Macen wanted to be certain they were agreeing upon the same terms.

"In exchange for your help the Syndicate will suspend and halt all agent provocateur agreements with the Typhon Pact. We will no longer act as their proxy within Federation space," she recited.

"I believe the agreement stood for all the Khitomer Accords nations," Macen reminded her.

"Yes, very well," Leera sulked. It wasn't getting her anywhere so she stopped, "The terms are agreed upon in the contract we sent for your review. Have you imprinted it and transmitted it back?"

"Just now while we were verifying the agreement," Macen informed her.

"You mean while you were verifying the terms of the agreement. I already knew I was telling the truth," Leera huffed.

"So you did," Macen allowed, "When do you want us on station?"

"In three days time," Leera decided, "Our forces are already gathering and should be fully assembled by then."

"We'll be there," Macen promised. He cut the transmission and turned to Riker, "Well Tom, that only gives us a few more hours in port.

Riker sighed as he rose from his desk, "I'll tell Bryce to begin the recall. I'll inform Shannon personally. She's going to hate your guts for a while."

Macen was surprised, "Really?"

"She and McMasters have a special evening planned," Riker informed him.

"They still can aboard the Obsidian," Macen replied.

"Apparently not this special," Riker retorted.

"Just get her going. Blame it all on me," Macen insisted.

"Oh, I plan to," Riker chuckled.


Macen decided to personally inform Rockford that the hammer had fallen and it was time to work with the Syndicate. Her mixed memories were filled with recollections of working for the Syndicate. In fact, she'd been the one to convince him to accept Leera's contract.

Rockford saw the inevitability behind the rise of organizations like the Syndicate and sought to curb it rather than eliminate it. If the Syndicate were eliminated a new, potentially fiercer organization, would arise to take its place. Perhaps it would be the Meirkus Conglomeration; perhaps it would be one of the Syndicate's lesser competitors that littered the stars.

With the Syndicate partially tamed it would become predictable in its larceny and illicit offerings. Gone would be the covert operations on the Typhon Pact's behalf. It would be fully committed to criminal activities and once again leave politics to purview of stellar nations.

Macen tapped hit the shield-like comm badge affixed to his belt. Privateers, private investigators, and security agents were issued police-like badges that doubled as comm badges. All of the SID team and the crew wore them. The only true distinction between the team and the crew, besides duties, was the fact the team was habitually armed.

Riker and Danan shared membership in both the team and the crew and therefore neglected to wear their holsters and utility belts. Danan would retrieve hers if she was called to a planet or ship-side assignment. But otherwise she never wore it aboard the Obsidian.


"Macen to Rockford," Macen said for the computer's benefit.

"Rockford here," she said a moment later.

"How's it going?" Macen inquired.

"Do I have news for you," Rockford's voice was laced with anticipation.

"So I take it P'ris is working out?" he asked.

"I feel a helluva a lot safer with her on our side than having her loose with the Tal Shiar," Rockford admitted.

"I'll keep that in mind," Macen dryly noted.

"Is there a reason you're bugging me?" Rockford asked.

"It's time to pack up. We're headed out," Macen warned her.

"Right," she said skeptically.

"Hey, this was your plan, Macen reminded her.

"I know, I know," she defensively replied, "I just hate to give up while we're on a roll."

"You don't have to give up. You'll just be relocating to the Infosys Center," Macen encouraged her.

"So, we're giving P'ris the empty desk?" she asked hopefully.

"That's the plan," he affirmed it.

"I love it when you think like me," Rockford teased.

"Just get ready and make sure P'ris makes it to the right airlock on time," Macen urged.

"I don't know. Which pylon are we docked at again?" Rockford facetiously asked.

"Trust me; you'll get yours," he playfully threatened, "Now scoot. I'll see you there."

"You never got our bags out of the ship, did you?" she inquired wryly.

"Pays to plan ahead," he remarked.

"We'll see who gets what once we're aboard," Rockford played along.

"Oho! A challenge," he quipped.

"Or a promise," she said suggestively.

"It'll be interesting to see what happens then. Later," he signed off and gave Fanning some final instructions. After that, he headed for Upper Pylon 1.


Rockford met him in their quarters and pounced on him, "C'mere you!"

She playfully growled as she wrestled him to the ground. Her training as an Augment made her even more skilled than Macen in hand to hand techniques even though he'd been mentored by Daggit. He fought back but he knew it was a lost cause even as she finally landed him on his back.

"Now you're mine to toy with," she declared haughtily.

"What if I don't want to be toyed with?" he defiantly asked.

She draped herself over him and leaned into his ear and whispered, "You're my love slave, remember? You won't want to resist."

Macen wasn't surprised to discover she was right.


They were retrieving their clothes from all across the living room, bedroom, and bathroom when the door chimed. Macen had on a pair of boxer underwear and was slipping on his uniform shirt while Rockford was just sliding on her panties.

"I'll get it," he grinned.

"Just close the damn door on your way out," she insisted.

Macen ordered the door to open to reveal Kalista and P'ris waiting outside. Kalista wore a knowing grin, "I told her to give you two at least an hour but here we are."

"It's all right, Kally. Have you given her the tour?" he inquired.

"Everywhere but the bridge, engineering, and the security office," she reported.

"Any particular reasons why behind those exclusions?" he wondered.

"Well, the official line is that they're too busy to entertain guests right now but the plain truth is they just don't want her in those particular fiefdoms. Jenrya was a little more honest when she simply declared, 'Oh hell, no!'"

Macen scowled, "I should have expected this. I'll take care of it."

P'ris intervened, "Please Commander, do not trouble them. I must earn their trust as I have earned yours."

Even though Macen asked if she was certain, she could tell he was pleased with the sentiment. He asked the two ladies in. Kalista was still very amused. She wasn't used to seeing Macen in his underthings. He was still sans socks and boots besides not having his uniform jumpsuit on. The bedroom door opened and Rockford stepped out completely clothed and uniform. However her hair was a tousled mess.

"Okay, it's your turn," she advised Macen. He retreated into the bedroom as Rockford began greeting the other two women.

"It seems you two had a bit of fun," Kalista happily observed.

"What makes you say that?" Rockford asked innocently.

"Do you normally hang your underwear off of the arm of the couch?" Kalista observed.

Rockford took a step over to the piece of furniture and snatched up her errant underthings, "If the moment serves."

P'ris decided to take the high road, "Did you have an opportunity to present our findings to Commander Macen?"

Rockford's eyes twinkled merrily, "I presented him with a lot of things but that certainly wasn't one of them."

P'ris' cheeks rewarded Rockford by burning a bright emerald.

Macen emerged from the bedroom, "Shall we be going?"

Rockford smirked, "I need a minute or two to get a little more presentable."

"Scoot," he urged.

A few minutes later she returned with her hair in a sloppy up do. It didn't take much imagination to wonder how her hair had gotten so tousled. Rockford didn't care. She figured everyone deserved a bed head moment now and then.


Later, in the Infosys Center, P'ris was reunited with Grace. Knowing of Grace's creation of a phasing field that saved the Obsidian from renegade Warbirds, P'ris was curious as to how the pilot had accomplished that. Upon learning of Grace's Kelvan origins, the pieces began to fall together. Grace explained that her people had stripped her attuner from her but she'd developed "a few tricks since then."

At first P'ris was slightly apprehensive about having Grace present for the briefing. After all, her skills as a pilot were renowned but did she have a head for intelligence work and tradecraft? At a nod from Macen, Grace shared her story. Sent amongst humans as a spy infiltrating Starfleet, her obvious talents attracted the attention of Section 31 who recruited her as an agent with the same goals and agendas that she secretly had as an operative of the Kelvan Concordant.

P'ris relented at this obvious display of resources and talent. She saw Grace in a whole new light and that light slightly frightened her. Signaling Rockford to begin, she waited while the Angosian presented the bulk of their investigative findings.

"The funds transfers that led to the Solarian attack on Outbound Ventures derived from the 1st Bank of Ferenginar. I called in a favor to determine where the trail went next. It went from Ferenginar to Anodis, from Anodis to Croav, and so on and so forth until it landed smack dab in the middle of Mityr and ended there," Rockford reported, "That places the blame squarely in Bertram Sindis' lap. He'd been in place as ruler of Mityr and the leader of the Meirkus Conglomeration for roughly a year when the funds transfer began to flow."

"How can you be sure the funds targeted us?" Macen wanted to certain.

"All of the funds transfers were earmarked with the code phrase 'Immolation'. That's the same internal code name Solarian used for the operation," Rockford explained.

"So Sindis brainstormed this 'Immolation' and Ezexial just jumped aboard," Macen summarized.

"That's what it looks like at this time," Rockford stated, "However, thanks to my esteemed colleague we were able to go further."

Macen turned to P'ris, "You found something?"

"The Star Empire and the Tal Shiar share certain...relations with the Meirkus Conglomeration," P'ris shared, "Utilizing the backdoors built into that relationship, I was able to determine that project 'Immolation was only the beginning of a large scale plan."

"I hate to ask this but what was the plan?" Macen cringed.

"Sindis used the Conglomeration to scout out worlds to annex and others that would be amenable to his cause," P'ris revealed.

"And what was his cause?" Macen wondered, "He'd professed a desire to expand the Conglomeration's political clout but he didn't have the resources to do so beyond accepting volunteers willing to side with him."

"He was going annex worlds by force," P'ris declared, "They would be annexed under the aegis of the Iridian Enforcers and Sindis would serve as the territorial governor. This plan is still in effect."

Macen was puzzled but then he swiftly realized the why of it, "Because Enrick Gaston is stepping into his shoes."

"Yes, the Lantillians are a client race to the Iridians. Gaston was Sindis' lieutenant so he is being allowed to proceed with the Conglomeration's part of the operation but only the Conglomeration's part," P'ris described the machinations.

"That's got to sting," Macen mused.

"P'ris and I uncovered a wealth of contingency plans Gaston has prepared for the big day. The first order of business is seizing the Iridian appointed governor and setting him up as a proxy while he plays the Gray Cardinal in the shadows," Rockford added.

"So, it seems that leaving Gaston in place will throw a curve in the Iridians' plans while removing him will just speed up their designs," Macen surmised.

"Got it in one, Boss," Rockford quipped, "So now the question is: what do we do about it?"

"Unfortunately, we already have a contract in place that spells out our part in the affair," Macen said in resignation.

"We could always break the deal," Grace suggested.

Both Macen and Rockford gave her scathing looks. P'ris was rather bemused. Grace looked around, "What did I say?"

"In case you forgot a little speech I gave one time, we signed a contract so we have a job. We do the job regardless of cost. Period," Macen asserted.

"The Tal Shiar is not so rigid. We move with the circumstances and we adapt our strategies accordingly," P'ris said smugly.

"We aren't the Tal Shiar and we aren't Starfleet. If we were we never would have taken this job," Macen lectured her, "And since we're neither, all we have to promote ourselves with is our code of honor and our reputation. Both will take a severe hit if we back out now."

"If you say so," P'ris relented but there was plenty of fight left in her.

"So what do we do?" Grace wondered.

"We do the job but before we do, I have a little chat with Admiral Forger and forward these findings to her. They are in the computer?" Macen asked.

"Of course," Rockford said smugly.

"I'm going to use the holo imager so you and P'ris stand by to answer Amanda's questions," Macen instructed.

"What a thrill," Rockford groused.

Macen didn't chastise her. Unlike Nechayev, Forger had come to accept Rockford's presence on the team, especially now that she'd won the Medal of Freedom. Saving known civilization had a way of winning friends and influencing people. It had even softened Nechayev's rather bellicose manner.

Although, it did seem as though there was always one teammate that the SID wanted to get rid of. First it had been T'Kir. Radil had filled that role next. Joachim Dracas took over from there and Rockford had been his successor. Now P'ris got all the love, or lack thereof.

Every one of Macen's "strays" had redeemed themselves in the eyes of the SID and Starfleet Intelligence so it was only a matter of time before P'ris won accolades. They just had to keep her alive until then.


Chapter Seven

Forger listened to Rockford and P'ris report their findings. When all was said and done her image was rotated so that it faced Macen. She was understandably livid.

"Dammit Brin! This is why you were originally restricted from taking private contracts," She lashed out, "My God! The Orion Syndicate? How could you stoop so low?"

"Listen to what's on the table," Macen urged. He explained Leera's agreed upon 'payment'. That cooled Forger down somewhat.

"Interesting. Most of the Typhon Pact's covert operations inside of Federation space are accomplished through the Syndicate," her gaze was sharp as she asked Macen, "Will she live up to her bargain?"

"There's a contingency in place. If she reneges, she loses her position and she probably won't survive that," Macen informed her, "Her opponents will hold her to the deal just to make her life miserable."

Forger mulled it over, "It is true that you're a private operator. That's why we made you an independent, so we'd have plausible deniability."

"So does this mean you approve?" Macen wore an amused expression.

"Let's just say I won't object," Forger countered.

"So does this mean I'll get paid?" Macen inquired.

"What are you? A Ferengi?" Forger retorted.

"Hey, the only thing I'm getting out of this is Leera's agreement to suspend Typhon Pact deals," Macen duly informed her, "Everything else is out of pocket."

"Brin, you know I can't sanction this, even unofficially," Forger lamented.

Macen quirked an eyebrow and wore a bemused expression.

Forger relented, "All right, damn you. I'll see if I can free up some discretionary funds. But this had better not bite me in the end. Got it?"

Macen grinned, "Clear as crystal."

"What a comfort," Forger quipped.

"Stop it or I'll have Eric spank your sister," Macen teased.

"Hah! She'd enjoy it," Forger rebuffed the idea.

Macen smirked, "That's why I suggested it."

"Fine," Forger sulked, "Just be careful and don't tell me what else those two get up to."

Her image disappeared and P'ris asked, "Why would Admiral Forger not want to hear what her sister is up to?"

"Amanda is a bit of a prude," Macen explained.

"How so?" P'ris inquired.

"Well, while we were on Earth Shannon introduced Eric to her sister and she asked him how he was enjoying his time with Shannon. Eric replied that no one had ever 69'd until they 69'd a T-Gurl," Rockford explained.

This only added to P'ris' confusion, "69?"

Rockford chuckled and explained the basics to her. Then she elaborated with the physiological adaptations required for a pre-op transsexual woman. P'ris was rather wide-eyed.

"Oh my," she said, "Have you ever done this?"

Rockford grinned naughtily, "Well, not with a T-Gurl."

P'ris' eyebrows shot up, "Yes, but are you a transsexual?"

"Now that would be telling," Rockford replied mirthfully.

P'ris desperately looked to Macen. He was nearly beside himself with appreciative humor. He did, however, grant her a boon and shook his head 'no.'

P'ris gave Rockford a smug look and the Angosian turned to Macen, "I had her going and you ruined it. That's coming out of your hide, mister."

"Promises, promises," He said blithely.

"You'll think 'promises'," she warned, "You'll have to work it like a new boy should."

"I see you've been sampling Eric's collection of 20th Century musicians again," Macen mused.

"You know that one?" Rockford was amazed.

"ZZ Top is one of his favorite bands. He listened to them constantly while in the Maquis," Macen shared.

"Do you like them?" she wondered.

He shrugged, "I like a couple of their songs. I much prefer his collections of Evanescence, Delain, and Leaves Eyes. Of course, my favorites from the 20th and 21st Centuries were Sarah McLachlan, Delirium, Dido, Anna Nalick, and Tara Maclean. Kelly Clarkson wasn't bad either."

"Don't you think for a moment that I haven't noticed every one of those artists is a woman or a band fronted by a woman," Rockford advised.

Macen grinned, "So I'm biased. So what?"

Rockford rolled her eyes, "Oh please."

"I really hate to interrupt," Grace said with a tone that indicated she wasn't, "but we need to decide on what we're going to do about Gaston."

"We bag him and hand him over to the Syndicate," Macen said with a tone of finality.

"But..." Grace began to protest.

Macen cut her off, "Hannah, we made a deal."

"But what about the Enforcers?" she managed to get out.

"The Conglomeration is surrounded by non-aligned worlds," Macen reminded her, "Unless they formally petition the Federation for military assistance there isn't anything Starfleet can do."

"But what about us?" Grace asked.

"Hannah, we're one ship and a surveyor at that," Macen squashed her idea, "This ship is made for in depth scanning of sectors of space and planets not combat."

"You certainly sent her into combat often enough when you were in command," Grace hotly retorted.

"Then it's a good thing I'm not in command anymore," Macen flashed back.

"There's gotta be something we can do," Grace plaintively insisted.

"There is," Macen's stance softened, "We can contact the governments bordering the Conglomeration and warn them."

"Now you're talking," Grace enthused.

Macen looked pained, "They'll probably ignore us."

"That's fine," Grace said dismissively, "As long as we try."

Macen and Rockford exchanged a wry glance before Macen spoke, "Okay, we'll divide our efforts into four astrographical delineations. Lees can divvy up the sections."

There was a general nodding of heads. Even P'ris felt compelled to assist. Unfortunately, as Macen warned, it was too little too late.


"Idiot!" Grace signed off from her last conversation with a planetary official.

"Problems?" Rockford mirthfully asked.

"What's wrong with these people?" Grace exclaimed, "We show them the proof of the invasion plan and they breezily dismiss it."

"The reading I got is they figure they're safe since Sindis is dead," Rockford shared.

"I concur," P'ris sighed.


They'd been at it for two days now without a single success. Rockford had only garnered that opinion recently when one official confided her reasons for ignoring the warning. Adding to the bleak outlook was Macen's absence from the Infosys Center. Grace had finally had enough of that.

"Where the hell is Brin?" she wanted to know.

"He's trying to reach Admiral Forger to try and get her to convince the Diplomatic Corps into mobilizing and trying to warn everyone since they seem determined to ignore us," Rockford shared.

"Yes, they do not see us as a credible source of information. The Federation can flex its muscles and perhaps some will finally be persuaded," P'ris added.

The door to the Center suddenly opened and Macen strode in. He was obviously frustrated and that frustration was quickly transmuting itself into anger. Rockford knew that an angry Macen was not one that they wanted right now. They were supposed to be planning their "snatch 'n grab" of Gaston.

Macen's anger was the type that simmered. It burned cold rather than hot and made him a ruthless bastard. The worst parts of his psyche were fully realized at those moments. Starfleet had been so concerned over this trait that they had suspended all contracts with the team for a year following T'Kir's death. Fortunately, that had proven unnecessary but Rockford privately thought that was only because Macen had been the carrier of T'Kir's katra. That fact let him slowly say goodbye over the next six months until it was removed from his mind.

"I take it the news is bad," Grace said in a defeated tone.

"Starfleet has 'assessed' our data and found unsubstantiated," Macen said in a low voice. Rockford could see just how dangerous he was at this moment.

"And how did they 'assess' our findings?" P'ris asked. Rockford could tell the Romulan recognized all of the same symptoms that she did. Only Grace seemed immune. She also knew that wasn't because Grace was ignorant of the facts it was just as a Kelvan she was probably immune to just about anything he could do to her.

Although she did tell me that he hospitalized her on one occasion, Rockford mused.

"They asked Solarian Security Systems if any of it was true," Macen almost spat.

"What?" Rockford and P'ris yelped at the same time. The two women exchanged a quizzical glance and then returned their full focus on Macen.

"Why would Forger do that? More to the point, why would Nechayev?" Rockford needed to know.

"It wasn't either one of them," Macen informed them all, "The data was handed off to Starfleet Security which meant that it landed in Edward Noyce's lap."

Rockford had heard of the Chief of Starfleet Security but she'd never dealt with him, "Noyce asked Solarian?"

"Yes," the answer was nearly a snarl, "Noyce is friends with several members of Solarian's Board. So he thought he would make an informal query."

"The Board was reorganized after the mass arrests following Solarian's attack on Outbound Ventures, wasn't it?" Rockford inquired.

"Yes, the Board of Directors is now made up of former Starfleet admirals and captains," Macen said in disgust.

"Maybe they don't know about the plans," Grace offered.

"Or perhaps they know full well and are seeking to escape culpability," P'ris ventured.

"I think that's the case," Macen admitted, "Solarian has broadened his contract base but Starfleet still provides the bulk of their work."

"So why didn't Noyce take our information seriously?" Grace wondered.

"Outbound Ventures is Solarian's chief competitor for both Starfleet and non-Starfleet contracts," Macen explained, "In short, it probably seemed as though we were trying to sabotage Solarian."

"Noyce should know us better than that!" Grace snapped.

Macen looked pained so Rockford took over, "I don't know Noyce personally but I know his reputation and I also know his activities within the Council of 5."

P'ris' ears perked up but Rockford ignored her. It was up to Macen to decide if their newest member would get briefed on the secrecy shrouded Council. Then again, she probably knew more about it than Macen.

"Noyce can be flexible if the occasion warrants it but his first instinct is to operate by the book. He has mixed feelings regarding the SID in general and our particular team specifically," Rockford shared, "He feels his Division should be able to accomplish what we get assigned to."

Grace snorted, "As much as I love Ian, he's Starfleet Security and I can tell you that he's about the only Security Officer that I think could join us without having a coronary."

Grace had shared her husband's darker past with Rockford so she agreed that Delaney stood a chance of assimilating into the team, "That being said, Noyce is career Security and that colors his every perception. Added to this fact is that his old friends are on the Board of Directors. They couldn't possibly be involved with anything illegal."

Rockford turned to Macen, "That about sum it up?"

"Yes, unfortunately," he agreed. He was cooler now but that could be a bad sign rather than a good one.

Macen's comm badge chirped and he touched it. Radil's voice came through, informing him that she, Daggit, and McMasters were waiting for the intel unit in the team's dedicated briefing room. Macen told her they were on their way.


As the rest of the team, Riker and Danan were fashionably late. Riker explained that Captain Alfonso Reyes, the CO of Deep Space 3, had signaled his greetings as the Obsidian skirted the station's periphery. Despite Starfleet's refusal to sanction their current mission, Forger had, with Nechayev's blessing, signaled Reyes and put him on standby should the Obsidian require assistance.

Unlike his lover, Reyes didn't have a divided command between a station and a starship. Ro Laren's command extended to both the currently being rebuilt DS9 and the Defiant. Reyes directly commanded DS3 but he did have three starships under his nominal control. Its primary mission was supporting the Federation colonies that were pushing the frontier ever further out.

Usually the prospective colonists hired a privateer to escort their transports as they pushed beyond Starfleet's jurisdiction. Outbound Ventures was a popular supplier of such services. They also engaged in contract antipiracy patrols as well. Of course, Solarian Security Systems was also a major provider of such services and had been operating out here for slightly over two decades while Outbound Ventures was a relative newcomer with only fifteen years experience.

Reyes had eagerly pledged his support for the team's mission. He had expressed some qualms regarding cooperating with the Orion Syndicate but when he learned of Leera's offer to rescind the Syndicate's involvement in Typhon Pact schemes he immediately recognized the weight of the potential rewards. Located near the uppermost end of the Neutral Zone, DS3 was host to many Romulan efforts to destroy the station. The Syndicate had been working overtime recently, engaging in a multitude of nefarious schemes to undermine the station's safety.

Other efforts had been dedicated to drawing off Starfleet's support of the colonies so that raiders could pillage them. Fortunately, Starfleet Command had seen this one coming and stepped up contracting privateer patrols. Seeing as how the privateers had no conflicting duties near their assigned solar systems they were allowed a far greater measure of operational latitude.


After Riker passed on Reyes' well wishes he got down to business, "So what's the plan?"

The holo emitter projected a 3D map of Mityr's solar system. Prominently featured was the massive debris field that dominated the edge of the system. It had been created by Mityr's natives as they exterminated one another. No evidence of survivors from that last great war had ever been found. The Conglomeration had settled on Mityr, and the surrounding worlds throughout the sector, and utilized the derelict structures and adapted them to their purposes.

The SID team had penetrated the Citadel, the defense center and "palace" of Mityr's ruler. The Citadel possessed capital ship grade shielding as well as three planetary defense phaser banks capable of destroying a starship in orbit. Last time the team had been on Mityr they'd disabled the Citadel's main reactor but it had undergone repairs since then. Not only had it been repaired but it had been replaced and upgraded.

In the same sense, there had only been one phaser bank before and that number had also grown. It was estimated that the shields had undergone comparable augmentation. These improvements would be problematic since the SID team needed to be able to get past the phaser arrays and penetrate the shields.

That effort would have to be accomplished by means of the team's runabout. The Corsair would deploy beyond the Lagrangian point where the Obsidian would stay on station. The surveyor would only enter orbit, and risk the wrath of the planetary phaser banks, if the Corsair ran into more troubled than it could deal with.

Radil called up the schematic Dracas had acquired of the Citadel, "This is the layout as we knew it. Times have changed and so it may have too. But unless they've sealed it off, there is a backdoor on the surface level. Starfleet's Special Operations Command encountered heavy resistance coming in the main entrance. SOC Team One entered through the landing pad on the upper levels just as we did."

"Entry through the landing pad will be virtually impossible. As it is, we're going to be flying through a storm of phaser fire," Radil stared at Grace.

The pilot just smirked, "Not a problem."

"By landing some distance from the Citadel we'll be able to approach by stealth," Radil suggested, "That will allow us to reach the backdoor, which is located some 5 kilometers from the Citadel proper. Once we're in, then we just have to keep the sentries from sounding the internal alarms.

"I should be able to disable the internal sensors and alarms from the inside," McMasters promised.

"Well, we know that Gaston will be in or near his office in the command center on Deck 2," Macen added, "So we have to concentrate on getting there."

"Once we control the command center, we can shut the defense grid down and begin recalling our personnel with the Corsair's transporter," McMasters offered.

"But we can only grab two at a time," Daggit reminded everyone, "That means one of us will to initially transport with Gaston and then the rest of us will return in a staggered process."

"We only have one little glitch in all of this," Radil suddenly warned, "What do we do about her?"

P'ris was surprised to find herself at the receiving end of Radil's glare, "Whatever do you mean? Am I not a member of the unit?"

"Yes, she is," Macen said sternly before Radil could reply, "And she'll be with us when we penetrate the Citadel.

Storm clouds rolled through Radil's eyes but they subsided. Seeing that there would be no further objections, Macen declared; "Now that we have the basics down, let's move on to the specifics."


Chapter Eight

The following day, at 0830 ship board time, the Obsidian reached the Keloris system. The solar system consisted of 14 lifeless planets orbiting a binary primary. There, the Syndicate's forces had gathered. Just out of curiosity, Riker had his Tactical Chief, Jaycee Miller, run a scan on the ships as they entered the system.

"Lord Almighty, this reads like a who's who of Starfleet's Most Wanted," Miller whistled, "Heads up; we're being hailed by the Shatterstar."

"Put it on the main screen," Riker instructed.

Shar appeared. The wiry Andorian still possessed his aura of lethality. Shar offered a half smile.

"Greetings Captain Riker. May I inquire as to where Commander Macen is?" Shar asked.

"He's indisposed. Which means you're stuck with me," Riker retorted.

Shar's smile became one of appreciation, "Very well, Captain. I can transmit our deployment plans. I shall be leading the strike force that will cover your entry into Mityr's periphery. Those plans are laid out and should be relatively simple to follow."

Riker felt a pang of pique, "Shouldn't I have been consulted?"

"No," Shar said flatly, "You're being informed now. Make no mistake about this Captain. This is a Syndicate operation. You are here for your investigative team's expertise in penetrating the Citadel. You and your ship are being excluded from the fighting. Point in fact; we are taking great pains to protect you. So a little gratitude and considerably less attitude would be appreciated."

While that certainly ruffled Riker's feathers, he could honestly see Shar's point. The Obsidian crew, and especially her captain, wasn't used to engaging on coordinated efforts. They primarily acted on their own authority. Even during the Argyn crisis, the Obsidian acted independently throughout.

The Syndicate was the primary mover and shaker in this event. They would be the ones engaging the Conglomerate's forces. They would be engaging the Citadel's defenses in order for the Corsair to slip into the planet's atmosphere and make its landing near the edge of town. The Syndicate would also be providing escorts to assist the Obsidian as it stayed on station at the Lagrangian point and waited to extract its deployed runabout.


"I see your point," Riker finally allowed, "Please transmit the tactical plans. My officers and I will review them and I'll get back to you if I have any questions."

Shar finally wore a ghost of a genuine smile, "You're an intelligent man, Captain. I doubt you'll have any questions. The plan is straightforward and presented in plain and simple language."

Knowing the general educational requirements to get into the Syndicate's services, namely none, Riker was forced to dryly reply, "I'm sure they are."

Shar recognized that Riker knew the reasoning behind the clarification and his smile became more and more apparent, "I knew you'd understand. The data squirt will piggyback this transmission as I converse with Commander Macen."

"I told you..." Riker began but Shar cut him off.

"We both know you're just being territorial, Captain. I need to discuss the ground assault with Macen. As I understand your chain of command, that has nothing to do with you," the Andorian elaborated.

"No, it doesn't," Riker gruffly agreed.

"Then, to be blunt, why am I still speaking with you?" Shar asked mildly. Still the hidden barb was felt.

Riker turned to Miller, "Please transfer Mister Shar to Commander Macen's comm unit."

"Stand by," Miller interjected and then to Shar's delight, he was transferred.


"Hello Shar," Macen said to the holographic image in the center of the briefing room.

"Why do I sense we are not alone?" Shar bemusedly asked.

"My entire staff is present as well. I'll be sharing whatever we say with them anyway do it just made sense to cut out the middleman," Macen remarked.

"I see your point. Besides, even if I didn't you wouldn't alter your approach," Shar drolly realized.

"See? Our working relationship is already off on the right foot," Macen quipped.

"We'll truly see," Shar obliquely commented, "Have you decided on a plan for your approach?"

"Yup," Macen confirmed it and then he described the plan.

"Ambitious but very risky," Shar opined.

Macen's reply was very wry, "We stand a better chance this time then we did the last. Last time we didn't have the element of surprise. They knew we were coming and where we were coming from. This time they won't know where we are coming from."

"Unless one of the guards sounds the alarm," Shar dryly countered.

"We won't let that happen," Macen assured him.

"Are you bringing the Romulan with you?" Shar asked.

"The Romulan has a name," Macen replied icily.

Shar barely refrained from an eye roll, "Yes, of course. Will Commander P'ris be joining you?"

"She's a member of the team so of course she'll be joining us," Macen coldly replied.

"She'll betray you," Shar declared, "If not now then eventually."

P'ris bristled and Macen gave him a chilly glare, "We'll just have to see. Won't we?"

"Would you care to make a wager?" Shar mirthfully asked.

Macen fell silent and Shar gave him a knowing look, "I thought not."

"When are we setting out?" Macen abruptly changed the subject.

"Tomorrow at your 0645," Shar answered and then he flashed a sinister smile, "This system is negligible so we should remain undetected. We are still expecting five more ships to arrive before the deadline. Of course, if they're late we'll proceed without them and take it out of their hides later."

Macen knew he meant that in the most literal sense, "When we first laid out the basics of the plan during the contract negotiations you said the Obsidian would get a three ship escort. Have you decided which three that will be?"

"The Crapgame, the Longshot, and my flagship the Shatterstar," Shar answered, "And with your update I have decided that our three ships will provide a distraction for your insertion."

"What kind of distraction?" Macen inquired.

"We shall temporarily engage the Citadel's defenses so that their concentration is on us rather than you," Shar explained.

"That may not be necessary," Macen hedged.

"Not to disparage Hannah Grace's flying abilities but it is virtually impossible to evade three phaser emplacements while all three are locked onto you," Shar said emphatically.

Grace was miffed but she wisely kept her counsel to herself. Macen merely nodded, "We accept your generous offer. May I ask what inspired it?"

"Leera ordered me to give you anything just so it increases your chances of success," Shar admitted.

"Remind me to thank her," Macen said.

"Just be successful. That will be thanks enough," Shar reiterated. The Andorian looked away as a subordinate's torso appeared in the image. Shar nodded several times and then the torso disappeared.

"I will leave you until tomorrow morning," Shar signed off and his image faded. As if timed, the door chime sounded. Macen released it and Danan stepped in. She wore a mischievous grin.

"Tom would like you to attend the briefing with the ship's senior staff," she announced.

"All of us?" Macen asked with a cheery gleam in his eyes.

"Just you, stupid," she smarted off.

"I suppose he thought I'd respond better to a pretty face than his ugly mug?" Macen inquired.

Danan smiled, "Basically."

"Alas, he knows me too well," Macen theatrically caved in.

"Stow it and follow me," she commanded imperiously.

"Guess what guys, you're dismissed," Macen said jovially as he followed Danan out of the room.


Radil and Daggit proceeded to the Security Office to discuss ship's security with her deputy, Gerrit Gren. The possibility of someone overwhelming the shields and boarding the ship was very real. She wanted to drill the squad in the cargo bays. The holoemitters there would serve to create recreations of the ship's corridors as Radil and Daggit threw different scenarios at them.

Grace and McMasters headed for the shuttlebay to run a final set of diagnostics on the Corsair. McMasters had retooled the runabout so performance wouldn't be an issue. After leaving the Maquis he'd owned his own performance upgrade shop. He'd been amongst the most popular engineers for refits and retooling of performance shuttles and runabouts. The Corsair now ranked among his greatest creations. Grace looked forward to the challenge of the insertion.

That left Rockford and P'ris headed for the Team Room to enjoy some coffee and discuss P'ris' role in the upcoming strike. Rockford understood P'ris' dilemma. As a Private Investigator, Rockford had no real place in an assault. However, she now had access to Annika Ryst's memories and Ryst had been an Angosian Augment and well versed in the arts of combat. That mean Rockford had the ability to draw on those skills. But it was a choice and quite frankly she wasn't certain it was one she wanted to make.

So to, P'ris had been trained in combat tactics by the Tal Shiar. She rivaled Radil in combat proficiency. She'd fought beside Macen and Danan on the mission that introduced them. Of course, she'd also led the Romulan forces that engaged in a firefight with the SID team and the Vulcan Starfleet archeologists on Harbinger. It had been Donatra who'd commanded the Valdore as it engaged the Obsidian. P'ris had thought that she and Donatra were natural allies. It still saddened her to discover the lie in that assumption.

Macen and Rockford had developed a strategy to deal with the varying skill levels of the assorted teammates. Of the ten SID agents aboard, only seven were currently descending to the surface of Mityr. Riker, Danan, and Tessa were staying behind. Tessa for obvious reasons and the same held true with Riker but Rockford couldn't imagine a reason why the Trill stellar cartographer couldn't come down as well.

Rockford said as much and P'ris smiled, "Lisea Danan is a truly formidable warrior."

Rockford wore an indulgent smile, "She may have been 13 years ago but she's pretty much stayed in her labs or manned the Science station on the bridge for the last 4 years. Things may have changed. My own personal opinion is that she's lost her taste for it."

"Hmm...we shall see." P'ris mused.

"Look, Rab and Jenrya are going to lead the charge. Brin is going to be right behind them with Hannah trailing him. Eric comes next and then you and I play rearguard," Rockford divulged.

P'ris made a face, "I do not appreciate being left behind. I can comport myself as a soldier should, as Macen well knows."

Rockford wore a wry expression, "P'ris, we have the rearguard because of our skills. Brin needs a strong reserve that can repel any opposition that comes up on our rear."

That seemed to pacify the Romulan, "Very well then."

She swirled the contents of her mug, "This is excellent by the way. What is it?"

"A vanilla caramel latte," Rockford said proudly, "I've got Brin hooked on them now too."

"Truly, it could happen. This is quite addictive. A veritable riot of flavors," P'ris enthused.

"Wait until you try Kahlua," Rockford assured her.

P'ris handed her mug over, "I am done. Can I try this beverage now?"

Rockford's answering smile was warm, "Follow me. I'll show you how to use the drinks replicator."

"It would be most appreciated," P'ris confessed.

The ship's staff broke up. Forger, Miller, Parva, the OPS Chief Edwin Zimbalist, the Bridge Engineering Officer Christino ard'Vret or "Chris", and Riker headed back to replace their relief officers. Danan lagged behind with Macen.

His curiosity was piqued by her lingering presence, "Something on your mind, Lees?"

"I think I should go with the ground team," she suddenly blurted.

If that startled him, he hid it well; "Any particular reason why?"

"You usually try to have an even number of people so they can partner up. Right now you have no partner," she explained.

"I won't argue but you haven't been there before. Also, there's the matter of the fact you haven't deployed with the team for a while or even practiced with us," Macen tried to let her down gently.

"Dammit Brin!" she snapped, "You, of all people, know I can handle myself. And as for the 'not being there before' bullcrap, neither have P'ris, Eric, Hannah, or Celeste for that matter," she argued.

"Celeste may not have been there personally but Annika Ryst was and she has all of Annika's memories now. You, of all people, should be able to appreciate that fact," Macen rebutted.

"I do," Danan growled, "But that doesn't negate the fact that she lacks direct experience."

"Okay, I won't argue that," Macen relented, "Why is this so important to you? And what does Tom say? He's usually all for you staying behind."

"He saw my point which you should have by now too," she accused.

"Lees, you haven't made your bloody point yet," he said, frustration lacing his words.

"My point is that you usually try to run a two by two cover formation and with seven people you can't do that. If I come I can cover you and you can, in turn, cover me," Danan reasoned, "And I'm coming whether you like it or not."

Macen grinned, "Okay, you can come."

"Why thank you," Danan replied drolly, "It's so nice of you to finally cave in."

"Oh come on, you had to have known my answer was always a 'yes'," Macen chuckled.

"And how was I supposed know this?" Danan asked sardonically.

Macen's grin turned droll, "It's not like we don't know each other."

"Oh, don't even go there," Danan warned, "First you left me for T'Kir and now you're with Celeste."

"May I remind you that after the war, and before the SID existed, we gave it another chance. You left," Macen accused.

"I left because you wanted to be with T'Kir," Danan snapped, "And don't even bring up the fact that she died and then came back again. She may not be your wife anymore but you'd already moved on and settled down with Celeste."

"Just like you'd moved on and settled down with Tom," Macen bit back.

Danan stared him and down and he evenly met her gaze. Finally they both broke into hysterical laughter. Danan laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Pools Brin, we haven't done that in forever," she gasped between snickers.

"Hey, you want to be my formation partner. It just comes with the territory," he smiled.

"So, when's the practice drill begin?" she inquired.

"In two hours. Rab and Jenrya are putting the security force through their paces right now," Macen informed her.

"Will they be up for it?" she wondered.

"Sure. They'll be tired of playing judge, jury, and executioner and will want to get their hands dirty. Or at least as dirty as Cargo Bay 2 and the holographic environment generators can make it," Macen assured her.

"Okay," she smiled back at him, "I'll see you in a couple."

"Say 'hi' to Tom for me and snog him while you're at it," Macen requested.

"Oh, I plan on doing a lot more than that after we're off duty," she assured him, "Later."


She exited the briefing room and after a moment he queried the computer as to Rockford's location. After that he also exited the room and headed for the Team Room. He entered to find Rockford and P'ris in a conspiratorial pose. Somehow he knew that it bode ill for him.

"Ladies," he said as a greeting as he passed by and went to the drinks replicator. Ordering a vanilla caramel latte, he proceeded to the table occupied by the Romulan and the detective, "Am I interrupting?"

"Actually, you are," Rockford replied jovially.

He started to move away and she grabbed his leg, "Sit down you dunce."

He eased himself into the chair next to Rockford and she grinned, "Ah, you obeyed. You must be my love slave."

"Is there another?" he teased.

"Not yet, but I'm thinking of holding auditions again. Of course, you could always audition first and prove to me why I shouldn't interview any other candidates," her smile was brilliant.

Macen reached over and took hold of the back of her neck and drew her in for a kiss. P'ris was a little embarrassed by the passion behind it. Macen eventually released her and Rockford was practically giddy.

"The auditions are off but you are going to service me tonight," she declared.

"Gladly," he promised.

"Hah, you won't think so when we tackle tomorrow on no sleep," Rockford warned him.

Macen leaned in towards her again and she canted her head and started towards him when P'ris cleared her throat, "I do believe I should be going now."

The couple both grinned. Rockford waved her back towards her seat, "No, stay. We'll behave. I promise."

"I won't." Macen quipped.

Rockford elbowed him in the gut, "Yes, he will."

"Oh, really?" Macen queried her, "And why is that?"

"Because..." she leaned in and whispered in his ear. P'ris couldn't quite catch it, even with her enhanced Vulcanoid hearing but Macen immediately blushed.

"Okay," he blurted, "I promise to behave."

"This is certainly a change," P'ris commented with some surprise.

"You have to hold the right leverage," Rockford explained.

"And do you?" P'ris inquired.

Rockford smiled triumphantly, "I hold all the leverage."

"Good to know," P'ris commented.

Rockford turned to Macen and changed the subject, "Do you know she'd never had a triple mint mocha before"

"What a tragedy," Macen wise cracked.

"Stow it, buster. Or what you're hoping for won't happen," Rockford warned.

"Yes, mother," Macen said contritely.

"Honey, you'd better not have done that with your mother," Rockford teased.

"I can't win," Macen good naturedly teased P'ris.

"It appears not," P'ris remarked, "If I may be so bold, your reactions to Detective Rockford..." She saw Rockford's glare, "to Celeste are quiet different than your previous ones to T'Kir."

"Well, she's a different person," Macen said.

"Indeed. Any comments, Celeste?" P'ris wondered.

"Brin started out as T'Kir's mentor. That teacher-student dynamic never went away. It was also pretty damned creepy if you ask me," Rockford opined.

"You two definitely share a different dynamic than that," P'ris observed.

Rockford beamed, "That's because I met Brin as an equal. We're partners in every sense of the word. I'm not his student and he sure as hell isn't my teacher. I'm not some broken, half insane girl in need of rescuing. If you want to be perfectly frank, I helped rescue him."

P'ris looked to Macen, "Truly?"

"I may not have recovered from T'Kir's death if it weren't for Celeste helping and sharing my burden," Macen admitted, "She helped me get over the grief and then she shared her life with me. I'll never be able to fully repay her but I can try by reciprocating the love she showed me."

"I never would have thought it," P'ris breathed.

"Well, the team and the crew of the Obsidian watched it as it happened," Rockford shared, "But the rest of the galaxy seems to have been caught flat footed."

P'ris made to reply but Macen's comm badge chirped and he tapped, Macen here."

"You wanted to know when the security team was done drilling." Radil asked.

"Yeah, it's time P'ris was issued her tactical equipment," Macen decided.

"You sure you want to do this?" Radil queried him.

"She can here you, Jenrya," Macen warned her.

"So what?" Radil retorted, "I've exchanged pot shots with her. She's a big girl. She can handle it. Now, you're certain you want to give her a tactical kit?"

"Positive," Macen assured her.

"Fine," Radil sighed in resignation, "Bring her down to the office and we'll issue her gear."

"Thank you," Macen offered.

"Don't thank me. Just make sure she doesn't shoot us all in the back," Radil complained.

"Why Jenrya, you are aware that P'ris will be rearguard on this op?" Macen teased.

Don't remind me," she groused, "I'll be in the office in 10 minutes. You'll bring her by, right?"

"Of course," Macen heard the disconnect as Radil cut the comm circuit.

Turning to P'ris, he grinned and said; "You've a date with Security."

"Whatever for?" she was slightly alarmed.

"We're issuing you your phaser, power packs, and a couple of photon grenades to go along with the rest of your equipment," Macen revealed.

"You are serious about my going to the surface with you," she realized.

"Never more so," he assured her, "Now, we have 9 minutes to finish our drinks and get to Security. I have a feeling that Jenrya's going to a little extra fussy and we need to be ready to drill in an hour and a half.

"You know what I love most about you?" Rockford asked him.

"My charming wit and personality?" he asked hopefully.

"You wish," she snorted, "No, I truly appreciate your enormous talent for understatement."

"Regarding Radil?" he asked.

She smiled ruefully, "You betcha. She's going to throw up so much interference we'll be lucky to get the damn phaser issued in this century."

Macen knew she was right and she could see in his eyes that she was right, "We do what we have to do."

"Yeah, but it doesn't mean we'll enjoy it," she warned.


Chapter Nine

At precisely 0645 PST as reckoned on Earth, the Syndicate force moved out and crossed the Midorin Sector to enter the solar system containing Mityr. The Conglomeration's early warning buoys had already alerted the Citadel of the Syndicate's approach and reinforcements were en route.

It was vital that the Syndicate's ships penetrate the few navigable routes through the debris field encapsulating the system before the Conglomerate's forces could seal off both ends of the field. Resulting in a trap that would force them into a bottleneck. Then the Conglomeration could rain disruptor fire and torpedoes down upon them.

The Syndicate ships emerged from the debris field to scathing disruptor fire. These first ships struggled but were quickly reinforced as their mates emerged. Soon two dozen raiders, Q-ships, and corsairs were in the outer system. The Conglomerate forces were quickly overwhelmed. As was expected, the Orions took no prisoners.


The Shatterstar signaled the Obsidian and the Federation surveyor transited the debris field as well. The Longshot and the Crapgame formed a wedge in front of the starship and joined their ersatz flagship in leading the designated non-combatant to Mityr.

At the Lagrangian point the Obsidian held station while the three Syndicate vessels moved ahead and engaged the Citadel from orbit. The Obsidian's shuttlebay doors opened and the Corsair raced out. The runabout first headed straight for Mityr and then plunged headlong into the atmosphere.

"Watch it, Hannah," Daggit called out from the weapons console, "They're trying to draw a bead on us."

"That's why we brought the damn Orions. So they could be target practice," she said between gritted teeth.

Although the Citadel's gunners were unsuccessful in shooting down the Corsair, they were forcing Grace to make a lot of evasive maneuvers.

"I thought these frinxers were supposed to be concentrating on the Syndicate ships," she complained.

"They are," Macen informed her from OPS, "We just happen to be in their line of sight. They're laying down a sweeping salvo and hoping to hit us as well by accident."

"Great," Grace grimly replied, "Hold on. It's time for something different."

Grace pitched the runabout into a series of evasive jukes and turns. They moved far enough away that the disruptors didn't follow them while the disruptors were engaged with the ships in high orbit. Despite all of this, alarms sounded on Grace's panels. She checked the sensors.

"Rab!" she yelled, "We have atmospheric fighters in bound. Take 'em out."

If Daggit were amused that Grace, and not the Team Commander, was issuing the orders, he never let on. He destroyed the first fighter as soon as it was in range. He downed another as they committed to a strafing run and passed by the runabout.

"Our shields took a pounding. They may have diddly for shielding but their disruptors pack a punch," Daggit reported.

"Well?" Grace demanded, "Use the chase armament and down them already."

"I'm on it," he growled.

Two more fighters went down, which only left two more. Grace held straight and true, "I've made us a fat, juicy target. So don't let me down."

He didn't. Grace whooped a victory cry. Macen activated an ECM package. The Citadel's network of ground based sensors went down. While the sensor techs tried to "burn" through the scrambling field, the Corsair would set down at the edge of town. It was important no one see their landing. As it was the runabout would be dangerously close to the Citadel's back door. If the Conglomeration dispatched a roving foot patrol rather than rely upon sensors, the team could be made and this would be a wasted trip.

However, Macen's Law of Lazy Criminals prevailed and the Corsair settled down onto the ground without incident or alarm. The team filed out one at a time. They quickly formed up into groups of two. Daggit and Radil took the lead. Macen and Danan followed. Grace and McMasters trailed them and Rockford and P'ris brought up the rear, just as planned.

Radil reached the door first. It was housed in an entrance that emerged out of the hillside that the Citadel was built upon. Daggit moved to the other side of the door. If anyone unexpected emerged they'd find a very lethal surprise waiting for them.

Macen and Danan come up and stood behind Daggit. Grace and McMasters moved behind Radil. Rockford and P'ris also slipped behind Radil. McMasters moved into the doorway.

"If I get killed, I'm coming back to haunt you," he warned Macen.

Daggit pressed in closer so that his rifle was trained right on the door. McMasters played with the actuation panel. After several false starts, and a curse or two, it chimed and the door slid open. Daggit for several heartbeats and then glided silently into the Citadel. Radil followed him.

Macen waited for 10 seconds and then proceeded after them. Danan was on his heels. McMasters gathered up Grace and they went in as well. P'ris preceded Rockford but both women entered without incident. Rockford closed the door behind her.

They wound through a few turns and then Daggit held up a hand curled in to fist. Everyone halted. He pulled back and conferred with Radil by whispering into her ear. She nodded and activated the targeting sensor on her portable phaser cannon. She moved to the edge of the corridor and Daggit braced his rifle to his shoulder and did a silent count with his free hand.

Having counted to the allotted three, Daggit's hand returned lightning fast to the foregrip of his phaser rifle. He swung around the corner. He moved in a wide arc to allow Radil to take the inside corner. She dropped the barrel of her cannon and took aim.

Radil's first shot blew open the chest of the Galvanite manning the desk. Daggit's Bajoran phaser rifle wasn't as potent but it still gauged a flaming hole into the head of the Elasian to Daggit's left. A third, an Iotian from the look of it, ran sideways across the length of the security station. He fired wildly, so wildly in fact, that he didn't hit anyone. Radil's shot took him down.

A Capellan drew a wicked looking Gorn disruptor. Daggit shot him in the chest. The Capellan staggered backwards but his hand, and the disruptor, kept climbing. Daggit placed his next shot between the Capelin's eyes. He fell back with a roar. Daggit surged forward and saw that the Capellan was still alive but badly burned and blinded. The Angosian Augment respected his foe enough to finish him off with a knife across the throat.

Daggit rose off of one knee and saw that Radil had also moved forward. Macen and Danan had taken their place at the corner. Daggit announced the "All clear" and everyone moved to the station. McMasters took a seat behind the controls after pushing the Galvanite's corpse out of the way.

"You certainly don't waste any time, big boy," McMasters quipped.

"Just shut down the internal sensors," Daggit tersely commanded and moved off further down the corridor. Radil accompanied him.

McMasters turned to Danan, "Want to give me a hand?"

"Just as long as you remember I'm spoken for and so are you," Danan replied.

"Hey, I'm cured. Shannon's taught me what a real woman is," McMasters declared.

Knowing Forger's background, Danan had to hear this, "And that is?"

"A real woman has a dick," McMasters said proudly.

"That is so wrong on so many levels," Danan quipped.

"What?" McMasters asked defensively, "I thought you'd be happy to learn I'm finally over. you"

"Oh, I am. I'm even thrilled for Shannon. I'm happy for you too but I'm thrilled Shannon has finally found her man," Danan remarked and then she crossly asked him, "She has found her man, right?"

"Oh yeah, I've totally sworn off vaginas," McMasters announced.

"I'm so...happy for you," Danan drolly remarked, "Now, can we focus?"

"Sure, sure," McMasters assured her and went to work.


They achieved success within minutes. Of course, that was largely due to P'ris' intervening. McMasters ran into a firewall early on and it even stumped Danan. P'ris asked to see it and quickly overrode the lockout. Marveled, Danan inquired as to how the Romulan had done it so fast.

P'ris smiled sweetly and said, "Trade secrets."

Danan was on the verge of protesting when Macen cut in, "Lees, we're on a schedule. Remember?"

Danan bit down her angry retort and deactivated all of the Citadel's internal sensors. Of course, that would only last as long as someone didn't notice that the internal network was down. At that point, the team would be well and truly screwed. The goal was to be at the command center by then.

McMasters also disabled the internal alarms, "We should be free from interference for a while until these nasty buggers figure out the alarms are down. Until then, they can hit the panic button all they want because no one will hear them."

"All right then, let's move out and rejoin Rab and Jenrya," Macen instructed.

The team swiftly moved into action.


"The Outbound Ventures team is on the ground," Shar's flag captain, one Theraquaid est'Deri, reported. Going by the simplified "Quaid", the Andorian thaan was actually Rhiann's very distant kinsman. She would have been mortified to learn that a relative was serving the Orion Syndicate especially now that Andoria had seceded from the Federation.

Rhiann and Chris had only been allowed to continue with Outbound Ventures because it was a private company that the Andorian Empire might wish to hire in the future. Of course, they're being aboard the Obsidian, and its numerous Starfleet contracts, granted the Empire a nearsighted glimpse into Starfleet operations and politics. Also, should Starfleet launch a covert mission against Andoria, the odds that it would be Macen's team were very high.

"Excellent, Captain. Order the diversionary force to pull out of range of their ground based cannons. I think we've taken enough damage for now," Shar ordered.

Quaid passed on the order and the three Syndicate ships began to withdraw. The Shatterstar's shields had nearly collapsed and some of the primary systems were down and they were running on auxiliaries. The Longshot was in similar condition but both ships used their impulse drivers to push them out of orbit and some distance away. The Crapgame wasn't so lucky.

Her shields were one strike away from collapsing. All of her primary systems were down. She was running on auxiliary power and her warp core had been shut down. The impulse reactor was running hot and was on the verge of scramming to prevent a spike. While her siblings utilized their impulse engines, the Crapgame had been reduced to maneuvering thrusters.

The Citadel focused all three disruptor banks on the desperately fleeing craft and they fired simultaneously. The ship's shields collapsed within the first 2 seconds of the strike. The disruptors split the Crapgame into three separate sections and the antimatter pods lost containment. The resultant explosion created a shockwave that even the Obsidian felt. The Shatterstar and the Longshot barely survived. As it was, their shields buckled and they were reduced to secondary systems.


Daggit called a halt. The group had stealthily made it past several foot patrols, neutralizing one, and had made it to the power plant. After approaching the command center and seeing it guarded by two dozen sentries, the basic plan had been amended.

Now they were going to take over the power plant and shut down the warp core and the backup fusion reactor. That would still presumably leave a battery powered reserve to maintain the lighting and the HVAC systems. Daggit and Radil would take charge of the defense of the power plant. McMasters and Grace would support them.

Presumably every guard in the facility would descend upon them. Grace's abilities should prove invaluable should they get overwhelmed. She estimated she could hold out long enough for the other unit to reach the control center.

Macen, Danan, P'ris, and Rockford would skirt past the incoming guards and would proceed directly to the control center. Presumably the bulk of the guards would be gone by then. Another assumption was that those in the center wouldn't be able to seal themselves into the command bunker. It was a gamble to be sure but it was the only play they had that gave them a chance to prevent the doors from being locked.

Daggit surged into the reactor room. Radil planted herself at the doorpost and laid down suppressive fire. Daggit picked off armed engineers while in the move. McMasters fired a few shots off but all he accomplished was getting some workers to duck and cover. Grace was far more methodical. Her enhanced hand/eye coordination played into the situation.

Macen and Danan pushed forward. Danan wielded a Bajoran phaser rifle while Macen only carried his Bajoran Militia issue phaser pistol. They picked off the brave souls who'd survived Daggit's onslaught and wanted to still fight. Several engineers had attempted to sound the alarm only to discover that it wasn't functioning. They invariably got shot. After the first three or four deaths, they stopped trying.

Two switched tactics and one manned the computer while the other fired at the SID team. Macen and Danan were forced to seek cover. They found it behind the warp core. Incredibly the shooter continued firing at them despite the danger of a core breach.

Three more engineers joined in and gunned down Daggit. Radil leveled a barrage at them. Two were immediately cut down. The original shooter and the computer specialist were the initial victims. Grace lent her support while Radil destroyed the computer terminal. Grace's efforts yielded results as another worker died. The last decided to lay down arms.

"All right, we've secured this area. Come out with your hands up and you will be spared," Radil announced.

Grace, McMasters, P'ris, and Rockford moved forward to herd the embattled plant workers to a neutral corner. Radil covered them for her position. Macen and Danan checked on Daggit.

His eyes were open and he was starting to rise. Macen halted him, "Hold it, Rab. How do you feel?"

"Stupid. I let them catch me off guard. I must be getting old," he said with self loathing and disgust.

"You're only humanoid," Macen reminded him, "And I'm sure Parva will let you know when you're getting old."

Daggit gave him a wry look, "She already does. All the time."

Macen chuckled and he looked to Danan, who'd been waving a tricorder over him. It wasn't a medical tricorder but it could determine if there'd been tissue damage. She nodded.

"Okay, you can get up now," Macen informed him as he rose to his own feet.

"Yeah, but now I don't want to," Daggit climbed to his feet and winced, "Damn, I forgot how much that hurts."

"Just be glad for your augmentation," Macen counseled, "That burst would have killed your average sentient."

"Harrumph," Daggit grunted. He moved forward and took charge of the prisoners. He draped his rifle across his chest with his hand on the pistol grip. He knew, and they knew as well, that it could be brought to bear within a heartbeat's span of time.

Radil came to stand beside him. She had the barrel of the phaser cannon elevated so that it didn't seem as threatening. McMasters was examining the equipment. Grace stood beside Rockford and P'ris. The two older women were vigilant but not overly concerned.

McMasters consulted with Daggit and the Angosian spoke, in turn, to the workers, "Who here works with the warp core and the impulse reactor?"

"Why?" a sullen Benzite asked.

"Because you're going to shut them down," Daggit informed him.

"Screw you!" a Deveronian shouted.

Radil shot him. His body was flung three meters back and his chest smoked as he lay twitching out his final death throes. She smiled coldly.

"Anyone else gonna get lippy?" she asked.

Daggit turned to McMasters, "Can you do it alone?"

"It'll take twice as long," the engineer warned.

"Fine," Daggit decided. He raised his rifle and spoke to Radil, "Take them out."


A few minutes later, all of the Conglomerate personnel were dead. McMasters had successfully shut down the warp core. Securing the antimatter containment system, he mounted a microcharge to the injector relays and blew them. The core wouldn't be operational again any time this week.

Next he scrammed the fusion reactor. He set a charge on the control panels and shuffled backwards until he was behind Grace.

"Okay, Sweetheart. Show me what you got," he cajoled her.

Grace stretched out her hand and green energy began to waft off of it. A green wall composed of pure energy formed between the SID team and the reactor. For the newest members of the team, it was chilling.

"Elements!" P'ris gasped, "What else is she capable of?"

"Damn!" McMasters exclaimed, "You go, honey!"

"Do you mind?" Grace asked, "This takes a lot of concentration. If you take too long I'll end up with a splitting headache."

"Right," McMasters triggered the bomb. The entire front portion of the reactor hub shattered. The emergency lights came on but all the rest of the systems went down. McMasters couldn't refrain from commenting, "Boo wah! Can I rock and ruin or what?"

"Careful, there's not enough room in here for your rapidly swelling balls," Grace said facetiously.

McMasters grinned, "You think that's bad? My girlfriend has a bigger dick than I do."

He noticed everyone was looking at him with some amusement. His smile grew, "I'm not kidding. Shannon's seriously hung."

"We'll take your word for it," Macen intervened to get his mind back on the mission, "Are you ready for the next step?"

"As I'll ever be," McMasters promised.

Macen turned to Daggit, "Keep them busy for as long as you can. When we have Gaston we'll came back and relieve you."

"Take your time," Daggit said breezily.

Macen gathered up Danan, Rockford, and P'ris and exited the power station. Daggit directed Radil into position. She was situated at one door facing the door at the opposite end. Daggit mirrored her position. He would defend the door she stood beside and she would defend his position. Grace and McMasters went up on the balcony and prepared for a crossfire.


Chapter Ten

"Long range sensors indicate that the Citadel has lost all power," Quaid reported to Shar, "Should we send someone to the surface to relieve Macen's force?"

A thin smile spread across Shar's face, "We'd simply be in the way. Concentrate our efforts on making repairs. We'll transport to the surface soon enough."

Quaid tipped his head in acknowledgement and went back to gathering status reports. Shar had considered contacting Riker in order to relay a message to Macen. He'd held back because Macen's plan was as audacious as it was dangerous. Having a comm badge unexpectedly sound off at the wrong time could get people killed.

There were times when the Syndicate would have preferred that outcome but that was no longer true. At least as long as Leera controlled the organization. There were those in the Syndicate that saw Leera's move to detach it from dealings with the Typhon Pact as treacherous. Shar wasn't one of them.

The Syndicate was a criminal organization not an intelligence organ of the Typhon Pact. The occasional contract killing shouldn't be beyond them but sludge work spying on the Federation and its allies? What was worse, they'd recently played empire builder for the Typhon Pact. Felkor III wouldn't be under the Pact's umbrella if the Syndicate hadn't laid the groundwork.

Leera had suspended three other similar operations. The Typhon Pact had reacted immediately. They'd surged into the systems and "negotiated" while a Pact flotilla patrolled the individual systems. Despite the Typhon Pact representatives' lack of threats, the power of the alliance was demonstrated and usually swayed the intended client nation.

All Shar knew was that by backing away from the alliance, the Syndicate was getting back into what it did best. Unfortunately for Macen's minions, that placed them squarely at odds with the Syndicate. Outbound Ventures usually combated the Syndicate's, or other freelancer's, misdeeds.

Macen and his SID team, however, only squared off with the Syndicate under extreme circumstance. Oh, the Syndicate knew of the existence of the elusive Special Investigations Division of Starfleet. They knew it was a collection of civilian operatives disguised as private security agents and private investigators. While the Syndicate had compiled a list of suspected SID agents, they knew nothing about the Starfleet end of things. They would have been amazed to learn that Starfleet's SID unit comprised of Admiral Amanda Forger, Ambril Delori, and a host of Starfleet Intelligence analysts.

Shar overheard Quaid as he cajoled the crew into moving faster. Conglomerate forces were undoubtedly on their way and the Shatterstar and the Longshot were virtually helpless. Swallowing his pride, he commed Riker.

Riker nodded at Shar's image, "Understood. We'll move into position and cover you while you affect repairs."

The image switched back to a view of Mityr hanging in space before them and Riker spoke to Rhiann, "Move us towards the Syndicate ships. Position us close enough to cover them but leave distance for maneuvering room."

The Andorian zhen smiled at him and turned to lay in the course. She felt a swell of pride at having the chance to prove that not all Andorians were criminals. She knew Chris had felt the same way since embarking on this mission.

Shervarhia ann'Deri and Christino ard'Vret had been grateful to continue service with Outbound Ventures. They still served Imperial interests by reporting on the Obsidian's movements and they served a larger role in securing the peace of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. Both Andorians had been members of Starfleet before they were recruited to the Obsidian crew. Rhiann had been an enlisted shuttle pilot and Chris had been an enlisted Engineering rating. They both felt a newfound need to prove themselves and so they would.

Riker noticed that Forger was fidgety. She had her side panel active and she was reviewing sensor readings, not only of the solar system but of the planet below. Riker smiled because he'd been watching the same readings. He activated the center panel between them and called up the sensor data.

"Shannon," he said softly. She looked over to him, "why don't we use the center panel since we're both looking at the same readings."

She flushed and switched her panel's readout to monitoring the tactical grid, "Sorry. It's just...while I've worried about the team before it's never been..."

"Personal?" he asked.

She broke into a grateful smile, "Exactly. Even when I was in Starfleet I never had a lover on an away mission. Frankly I never had enough lovers to worry about."

She growing wistful she said, "Plenty of one night stands. Seems everyone's got a fetish to indulge."

For the first time, Riker appraised Forger as a woman. She was quite attractive and completely passable. He'd never suspected her true origins. She had long blonde hair that reached below her breasts. Of course, she wore it in a tail while on duty. Then again, McMasters' influence could be seen in her roots. Forger was naturally a brown eyed brunette. Her center part was now considerable darker than the rest of her flaxen hair. And the fact that her roots were several inches long spoke of how besotted she'd been.

"Captain?" she asked with some concern, "Are you okay? You seem...lost."

Riker smiled, "Sorry. Thinking of a personnel matter."

Forger frowned, "That's usually my department. Anything I should know?"

"I'll let you know if you need to do anything," Riker said enigmatically.

Forger frowned, "Um, okay?"

"C'mon, let's get back to worrying," Riker returned his focus to the center panel. Forger was a little reluctant. Her Captain was being reluctant to share with her something that was in her purview. That meant it either dealt with the SID team or her. She really dreaded the thought of it revolving around her.

She suddenly noticed that Riker wore an amused, if curious, expression. She had to ask, "What?"

He dropped his voice to a whisper, "You really don't have to tell me but when you and Eric have sex...do you ever...well, do you ever mount him?"

Forger felt scandalized and it showed on her face and he was immediately embarrassed, "Look, I'm sorry I asked."

She motioned for him to lean closer again since he'd pulled away, "No, it's just a common misconception."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, that because I have a penis means I want to use it. I don't," she insisted. Seeing his dubious expression she insisted, "No, it's true! I swear."

"But how can you...?" he faltered.

"Captain, I'm a bottom. I'm strictly a bottom. I won't play top for anyone. Eric understands this. Besides, he's top enough for both of us," she shared as if divulging a naughty secret, "Although, I have to admit that Eric has insisted on giving me blowjobs and I'm going crazy over them."

"Ahem...thank you for...erm, sharing," Riker replied uncomfortably.

Forger laughed, "Oh Captain, you should see your face!"

Forger's ongoing hilarity drew attention and Riker redirected them, "We're in the middle of a mission, people. Mind your stations."

Riker shot Forger an irritated glare. She patted his arm consolingly, "It's all right, Captain. I am not going to ever ask you to suck my dick."

His respondent look of distaste sent her into another riotous grip of laughter. Riker thought about just giving up and retreating into his Ready Room until the bad guys showed up.


Macen motioned for a halt. He peered around the corner and ducked back around. The command center was still be guarded by at least six armed figures. Macen scooted aside so Danan could discreetly scan the entrance with her tricorder. She closed it and stepped back to join the others.

"The power to the control room is completely cut. That includes the power actuators to the bunker doors. But there are still seven guards," she warned.

"Celeste and I will cross the corridor and make for the opposite corner," Macen suggested. They were at the cusp of a four way interchange so his plan was feasible, "Lees, you and P'ris will lay down cover fire. And don't forget to try and bring some of the bad guys down while you at it."

"No, I thought I'd skip that part," she dryly retorted.

"Sorry," Macen offered, "I've just gotten used to you staying behind."

Danan planted her fists on her hips and got into his face, "Don't you dare go there!"

"Uh...Lees?" Macen was trying to find a way to quiet her down.

"I've been your back up for 18 years now! You wouldn't be alive if it weren't for me. And yes, you need to thank me for not killing you for hanging out with that little Vulcan trollop when you were supposed to be romancing me!" her voice kept climbing in volume and intensity.

"Um...Lees?" Macen tried to distract her to what was occurring around them.

"What?!" she yelled.

"Lover's quarrel?" a gruff voice asked.

Danan turned to see five of the guards facing them with their weapons drawn. Macen muttered, "Never mind."

Danan's face burned as much from anger as shame. She swung and fired into the lead guard point blank in his very broad chest. The rest of the guards were momentarily startled but they were quickly recovering.

Danan cut another one down. Macen had his weapon pulled free from its holster and he put a phaser burst into the forehead of a Troglyte. Rockford aimed and fired off two shots, both of which were invariably lethal. P'ris caught the last one as she tried to run away.

Danan spin around the corner and fired two shots into the remaining guard. Macen and Rockford surged forward and entered the command center. P'ris stayed behind with Danan.

"Well played," P'ris congratulated her, "I see my faith in your skills has been amply rewarded. You have lost none of your fire. Come; let us join Commander Macen and Detective Rockford."

"Right behind you," Danan weakly promised. Truth be told, she felt quite ill. She hadn't gotten this sick from a firefight since her first couple of engagements with the Maquis. It was true; she'd lost her taste for it. Macen had known and tried to warn her but she'd insisted.

She slogged her way to the command center's entrance, the smell of burnt flesh assailing her nostrils, and her gag reflex finally overwhelmed her. She bent over and wretched all over the doorpost, still out of sight of those in the bunker. P'ris took pity on her and helped hold her ponytail out of the way.

Danan tried to protest but her stomach heaved again. P'ris watched over her, holding her hair, "Shhh...it is the adrenalin. You shall recover shortly. I shall stand by you until then."

Danan was grateful but the mission was underway. She rose and wiped her mouth. Now if she could just get rid of the wretched taste.

"How's Brin doing?" she asked.

"He and Detective Rockford seem quite...competent," P'ris remarked.

"You sound disappointed," Dana observed.

"Of course not!" P'ris said a little too defensively.

"Mmm hmm," Danan said knowingly, "You two have always enjoyed a tumultuous relationship. Lots of splash and drama and now T'Kir's dead and you're stranded in the Federation," Danan summarized, "Sound about right?"

P'ris looked defeated and more than a little hunted, "Does he know?"

"P'ris, he's a low level empath. If you stand too close he'll know everything about how you feel," Danan warned her.

P'ris' cheeks flushed emerald, "Elements!"

"Don't worry, he's too polite to say anything unless it poses a problem for the group," Danan reassured her, "Does it?"

"No!" P'ris quickly blurted, "But Celeste? How will it affect our relationship?"

Danan detected something there too, "Just what kind of relationship do you want?"

P'ris looked like she'd been slapped and she stammered, "I...I don't mean to..."

"Get in between her and Brin?" Danan mused, "Or perhaps you want to be between them and share them at the same time?"

P'ris was practically green, "I'd never...!"

Danan gave her the stink eye, "Don't lie to me. I remember your little relationship with D'ionn and Vetrick. But then again, it never seemed that you'd had them at the same time."

Seeing P'ris squirm she smiled, "Or maybe you did. Anyway, Celeste is well aware of all of this and she's letting it slide. Brin knows as well and he's doing the same. Just leave it alone and let the urges pass."

"But perhaps..." P'ris began to argue.

Danan held up a hand, "Just stop. If you have to argue it into existence then it probably won't work anyway."

P'ris' shoulders sagged in defeat, "Of course you are right."

"Yet part of you still doesn't believe that," Danan watched a fire ignite in P'ris' eyes, "This too shall pass."

P'ris seemed to be more composed so Danan suggested that they enter the command center. They entered in to find Rockford covering the tech workers. Five lay dead at their stations. The rest were completely pacified.


Macen was approaching an office area with his phaser drawn and held in a two handed grip towards the open door. He slipped into the office to discover Gaston desperately trying to activate the trapdoor underneath the desk. Macen gave him a cold smile.

"You'll find the escape pod is as deactivated as everything else," Macen could see Gaston's doubts, "Y'see, Sindis used that route to elude me once before so I had my team's engineer specifically shut it down, backup power or no backup power."

Gaston bared his fangs. Like all Lantillians he was a vampire. Unlike the vampires of Earth lore, Gaston was definitely alive. Like a vampire bat, he sustained himself off of non-sentient creatures. And like vampire bats, he drank red blooded hemoglobin. Vulcanoids, Andorians, Benzites, and Bolians were off of the menu.

"Save it," Macen said sourly, "I've faced the Night Coven. You just aren't that impressive afterwards."

Gaston began to hiss and Macen wryly added, "You can walk out of here on your own or I can stun you and we can drag you out of here."

Macen cut him down. The Lantillian fell before him. He turned around and went to the door. Seeing that Danan and P'ris had joined Rockford, he called out to them.

"Hey Lees! Bring P'ris with you and get in here," he instructed.

Danan and P'ris exchanged a rueful glance and then proceeded into the office. Danan noted Gaston's prone form, "Is he dead?"

"He's of no use to our principals dead," Macen gruffly informed her, "P'ris, use your transponder to mark Gaston here and order a recall to the Corsair."

Danan looked at him, "Why not have me do it?"

"Because Lantillians don't ingest copper based blood. They're purists when it comes to iron based derivatives," Macen reminded her.

Her mouth formed a perfect "O" and her eyes went wide, "I forgot about that."

P'ris knelt next to Gaston and placed a transponder on Gaston's still, yet breathing, body; "I am ready."

"Your comm badge is tied into the Corsair's systems. Just request the ship, by name, to transport you," Macen told her.

She complied and winked out of existence. Danan waited and then commed P'ris, "Do you have him secured?"

"Yes, he is in the brig," P'ris confirmed it.

"Computer, one to transport," Danan commanded. She disappeared in a halo of energy.


Macen returned to Rockford. They ordered the techs to stand away from their consoles and then they lobbed a few photon grenades towards the equipment banks. Having destroyed the command consoles, they went back to the power station to aid Daggit's force.

The Conglomerate troops quickly realized that the enemy was on the opposite side of the room no matter which door they tried to breach through. They grouped up and began coming in clusters. Those that made it past Radil or Daggit's initial bursts were stymied by Grace or McMasters. The assault teams were getting further and further into the room though and Daggit and Radil were being forcing them to spend more time dodging then shooting.

Radil was the one to notice that people stopped coming through her target area. Instead they were turning around and moving away from the reactor room. Daggit kept firing away at the door she stood next to. Breaking discipline, she swiveled to her right and opened fire on the Conglomerate troops at point blank range. Her phaser beams cut through the bodies in the front and struck down those behind.

Daggit saw the change in the status quo and motioned for McMasters and Grace to lend their fire to Radil. Grace repositioned nearer to McMasters in order to maximize her field of fire. Radil stepped off to one side to allow the combined phaser streams of her partners by and to get more protection while her cannon worked the crowd.

Meanwhile, Daggit began targeting the Conglomerates that had abandoned him. He saw the reason why. Macen and Rockford were at the other end of the corridor laying down a volley of fire. While Macen was good, Rockford's precision was inhuman. He knew the feeling. Within a couple of more minutes, the corridor was swept clean.

Daggit ejected his spent powerpack and slapped a fresh one in. He returned to the power plant and called for a retreat. He laid down cover fire while Radil moved steadily backwards while laying down her own barrage.


Grace and McMasters descended from the upper balcony and exited the reactor room. Radil went next and Daggit followed her. The Bajoran and the Angosian set up at the doorway and kept the pressure on the Conglomerates.

Grace and McMasters transported first. They would begin prepping the ship for launch. Macen and Rockford followed. Finally, Daggit and Radil transported away from there. As soon as the last two were aboard, Grace fired the antigravs and lifted the Corsair off of the ground. Engaging thrusters she began a slow climb.

When the Corsair reached an altitude that Grace could safely fire the impulse engines, without threat of frying a civilian, she did so. The Corsair reached for the sky and swiftly broke orbit. She halted the runabout off of the port bow of the Shatterstar.

Daggit manhandled Gaston out of the brig and onto the transporter pads, "Hold still."

Gaston was woozy but he had the presence of mind to display a ghastly smile where all of his fangs were played to their best advantage. The transporter effect caught him and he disincorporated. He reappeared aboard the Shatterstar and Shar was more than welcome to take control of him.

Shar hailed the Corsair. Macen displayed it on his screen, "'Lo Shar."

The Andorian was smiling, "Well played, Commander. Well played."

"Is our part done here?" Macen inquired.

"Yes, you and yours are free to go. Thank you, it was a pleasure doing business with you. Perhaps we'll do it again some time," Shar said magnanimously.

"I rather doubt it," Macen retorted, "Just make sure Leera knows our contract was fulfilled. I expect the terms of payment to be upheld."

"Of course. I already sent a message confirming the operation's success. The subspace relays in and around the debris field will have carried it to her," Shar assured him.

"That's all I can ask. I'd say 'good luck' but I'm not sure I actually feel that way," Macen confided.

Shar chuckled, "Of course. I understand all too well. Farewell."


The Corsair docked within the Obsidian and the surveyor began making its way to the lane through the debris field. Macen arrived on the bridge and asked Tom to step aside for a moment.

"Could you leave some probes in our wake?" Macen wondered.

"I could, but why?" Riker wanted to know.

"Call it a hunch," Macen shared.

"Is this your usual brand of 'hunch'?" Riker wondered.

"Yup," Macen revealed.

"I knew this milk run was going to end," Riker kvetched.

"Tom? The probes?" Macen prompted him.

Riker began issuing orders and the crew instantly began to follow them. They left a sensor buoy near the entrance into the travel lane. Another at the close of the lane. And yet another beyond the Kuiper Belt. Macen returned to the Infosys Center to monitor the sensor feeds from there.


Shortly after the Obsidian cleared the Kuiper Belt and launched forward at a leisurely Warp 6, the interior probe picked something up. Jarulski, the scientist manning the Science station in Danan's absence, suddenly spoke up, "Captain! Several unidentified vessels are clearing the other travel lane."

"Jaycee, see if you can match the ship classes and see who they are," Riker ordered.

Forger tapped into the sensor feeds and after a moment she grimaced, "Oh hell. Those are Iridian Enforcer ships.

"You're sure?" Riker needed to know.

"Positive. I did a work up on Iridian vessels as soon as we got our orders. There was a remote chance the Enforcers would show up so I wanted to be prepared," Forger shared.

"Bless you," Riker gushed. He tapped his panel, activating the comm; "Riker to Macen. Do you see them?"

"Yup. A half dozen Iridian frigates, another half dozen destroyers. The light and heavy cruisers are starting to make their way through. If they follow SOP, the dreadnoughts will be the last to push into the conflict," Macen stated.

"Seems Shannon wasn't the only one doing her homework," Riker opined.

"Tell her to take notes. Starfleet Command would love to get their hands on them. No Starfleet starship has ever survived an Iridian fleet maneuver," Macen divulged.

"Then how do we have ID's on the ships?" Riker asked.

"Remote sensors, just like the ones we're using. If we're lucky they'll be too busy securing the system after destroying the Syndicate ships and our probes to chase us," Macen said direly.

"You give a man a lot of hope," Riker grumped.

"Hey, I'm not Captain anymore. Optimism is your job now," Macen cajoled him.

"Head's up everyone, I want all of this preserved for posterity. We've had a buffer between the Federation and the Iridians for ten years now. That buffer just got a little smaller and Starfleet is going to need everything we can give them in case the Iridians decide to remove the buffer altogether," Riker gave his obligatory speech.

When it was done, everyone focused on their instruments while Rhiann pushed them to maximum warp. There was no reason to tempt fate by staying any closer than they had to.


Chapter Eleven

The following three weeks were ones of dismay. The Enforcers had butchered Shar's forces wholesale, even going so far as to destroy the Shatterstar with Gaston still aboard. Their apparent contempt for his weakness extending to the termination of his life. They destroyed the Obsidian's sensor probes but did not pursue the Federation ship.

Before they were destroyed, the probes indicated that the Enforcers were moving in a vast amount of military hardware. The reasons for that became obvious as the Enforcer ships spent the next few weeks overtaking all of the unclaimed systems surrounding Conglomerate space. They reached the borders with the Federation, the Breen Confederacy, and the Romulan Star Empire and halted their advance.

Starfleet's exploratory vessels had been expelled from the newly conquered territories but commercial traffic remained unhindered. The Iridians sent diplomatic envoys to the Khitomer Accords and Typhon Pact nations. The Typhon Pact nations, particularly the Breen and the Romulans, were especially skittish of the advancing Iridian forces.

Like their opposite numbers in the Typhon Pact, the Federation drew a line in the sand regarding Iridian advancement. The Iridians found this amusing. It was clear to everyone that the Enforcers would resume their march when they'd reinforced and consolidated their hold on their latest acquisitions. The Cold War between the Khitomer Accords states and the Typhon Pact nations now extended itself to the Iridian Enforcers holdings.

The territory controlled by the Iridian Enforcers had been discovered after the Dominion War. The Enforcers themselves had first been encountered 10 years ago. The 3 years prior to that encounter had found a single Starfleet starship exploring relatively unknown space. No Federation presence had ever entered that territory and remote imagery and long range scans had revealed very little.


The Galaxy-class USS Andreas Vesalius had been turned away by an Enforcer flotilla. The instructions to the crew, and the Federation, were clear: do not enter our space again. Trading vessels had found the way open to them and they conducted discreet scouting missions for Starfleet.

What the merchants discovered was that the Iridians were not the masterminds behind the Territories. The Iridians were a highly militant people. They specialized in policing and territorial control. They were as remorseless as the Jem'Hadar, as cunning as the Romulans and as relentless as the Tzenkethi. Because of their gray skin, the Iridians were known as the "Ghost People". A side note of the cultural observations recalled that Iridian males uniformly had stark white hair and the females consistently had jet black hair. No exceptions to this trend had ever been noted. Because of these evolutionary adaptation transsexuals were unheard of in their culture. It was unknown how many sexual orientations that they enjoyed.

What was known is that they had a compulsory breeding program to constantly replenish their ranks. Both men and women could carry children to term thanks to some creative genetic engineering. The males had to deliver via cesarean. Both males and females were compelled to bear at least one child during their lifespan.

Once the Iridians had reached out for the stars in the service of their mysterious masters, they abandoned such pursuits as farming, medicine, and scientific endeavors. They had client races for that sort of thing. All non-Iridians were 3rd class citizens, even on their own home planets. The Iridians feared cultural contamination so even their subject workers aboard their warships and in their bases and space stations were carefully monitored. The tech class of Iridian workers were also monitored. Considered suspect because of their non-combat roles, the techs were the 2nd class citizens within the Territories.

The typical Iridian was a soldier, born and bred. Raised in communal crèches they learned military science literally from birth. A series of tests throughout childhood established which candidates would be enlisted and which would be trained as officers. Both received compulsory basic training courses.

Officers and enlisted were specially selected to serve in the Enforcer fleet as ratings and junior officers and they were culled from the combat regiments. Promotion through the ranks generally occurred slowly unless there was attrition from combat losses and the candidates displayed abnormal ability. It was the goal of every Enforcer to die in service to the Fleet.

Even units stationed on planets were part of the Fleet. An attribute shared by the Enforcers and Starfleet. While Starfleet also has law enforcement and military duties, that's where the resemblance ended. The Enforcers were solely designed for the acquisition, command, control, and consolidation of territory. They were hired by stellar nations to "invade" their systems and pacify them. Those client nations then supported the Enforcers in their goals to quell all resistance...all in the name of the local ruler.

The true masters of the Enforcers had never been seen. As reclusive as the Founders, it was theorized that the "Masters" had genetically bred the Iridians from a lesser species into the virtually unkillable one that now existed.

It basically took beheading to kill an Iridian. Their natural regenerative abilities shrugged off phaser and disruptor shots. Loss of a limb or two would place the body in a coma for a few weeks while the lost members were regrown. Artificial aids were unnecessary but their application could speed the process into one that lasted mere hours instead of weeks.

Conformity was a huge influencing factor in Iridian society. The desire to belong to a squad, a unit, or a crew was another. Those that rebelled from the mandated norms faced disciplinary action, exile, or execution. Those that expressed the belief that other cultures or races were equal to the Iridians themselves were castigated and declared "contaminated". Contaminated Iridians were subject to execution. Those that fled were hunted down and their demise was then drawn out in a public spectacle. The pursuit being broadcast across the Iridian InfoNet.


Federation listening posts had tapped into the InfoNet and that was where they'd learned the most about the Iridians. Like the Romulan CommNet, it contained classified and public areas. Federation sociologists and anthropologists had studied Iridian society through the public areas. Starfleet Intelligence had accessed the classified areas on occasion but they were quickly discovered and blocked from accessing the Net from those terminals. SI would purge their computers of all foreign scripts and begin again but it was only a matter of time before they were stymied again.

Starfleet Admiral Amanda Forger, Director of the Starfleet Special Investigations Division, sat across the briefing room table from Macen, Rockford, Riker, and her own sister. Her aide, Lt. Commander Ambril Delori, was there to support the admiral. Ambril was nearing the terminal phase of her career. She was going to reach the rank of Commander but she would probably never rise above that grade.

The Bajoran would be eligible to run an entire administrative department in BuPers, SOCOMM, or SI but because of her elite security clearance and familiarity with the SID she would not be transferred unless she specifically requested one. Forger knew that the younger woman was weighing her options carefully and had promised to get back to her after they'd concluded this trip.

Forger had announced her impending visit and strict instructions for the team to refrain from any contracts that could interfere with the mission proposal that the admiral would present. Thanks to the vagaries at Starfleet Command and Forger's immediate superior, Admiral Alynna Nechayev, wanting her to consult on the Enforcer debacle, Forger's visit had taken almost three weeks to commence.

If she knew Macen and his team, and she did far better than any of them would have liked to acknowledge, she knew that sitting still while political events on a galactic scale were occurring in their backyard had to have been murder. As much as she hated to be throwing them into the thick of things, that's exactly what she was here to do.

"How many of you have kept abreast of what's been going on in Enforcer territory and in turn their actions regarding the known sovereign stellar nations in and around the Federation?" Forger asked.

Everyone but Macen said that they'd kept up with the news through civilian news services but Macen remained strangely silent so Forger called him out, "Brin?"

"I've been following Starfleet Intelligence's ongoing feeds. Other than the material taken from the InfoNet, there isn't a lot to go on. The border patrol vessels assigned to the region have found their sensors jammed at every turn," Macen recalled.

"The Iridians don't want us seeing what they're up to," Forger griped, "The Klingons and the Romulans used to pull the same BS."

"Only now the Klingons are our allies and the Romulans are employing a transphasic cloak and once again, we can't detect them," Macen summarized.

Forger's eyes narrowed, "There are times when I really hate you."

Macen held his hands up in surrender, "Hey, don't shoot the messenger."

Because of the light tone of the banter, no one was taking it very seriously. It was Forger's younger sister, Shannon, that redirected the conversation, "It seems you came a long way to ask us more than that, Amanda"

Forger felt a swell of pride over her sister. Shannon had overcome many things in her life. Gender identity conflicts, drug addiction, and frustration within Starfleet's ranks until she branched out into Outbound Ventures, and of course, finding a potential Long Term Relationship. A LTR had eluded Shannon throughout her time in Starfleet and even up until recently in Outbound Ventures employ.

"Precisely," the elder Forger agreed. She turned to Ambril, "You have the files uploaded into their display system?"

"Of course," Ambril replied with a mischievous glimmer in her eye.

"Call up the files," Forger instructed.

Ambril's hands flitted across the surface of the briefing room table. Its interface display put up the files and images she'd loaded. She arranged the folders and then parsed duplicates out to each location where a participant sat.

"If you'll take note of the cartographical map, you'll see that the Enforcers have absorbed more than thirty sectors. That completely ate up the buffer zones between the UFP and the Enforcer Territories. The Romulan Star Empire and the Breen Confederacy are also in the same straits," Forger began with. The rest of the room studied their star maps.

It was true that the Enforcers had devoured huge swathes of territory in short order and it seemed the territorial ambitions were voracious. They'd already sent angry messengers to the mentioned parties and demanded that border systems be ceded to them. President Bacco and the Federation Council were resisting. The Breen leadership was also refusing to reply. Meanwhile, Empress Donatra had dispatched Proconsul Sela to the space station Typhon I to discuss matters with representatives of the other founding Pact members.

The station was a central hub with six spiral arms. Each arm was habituated by staff members from an individual member state. Each arm also maintained environments suited to each species, or in the Breens' case, each individual species. The central hub's environmental controls were kept in a neutral middle ground where the members could meet. While it was slightly cold for Gorn and Romulans, the Tzenkethi and Kinshaya found it hospitable. The Tholians and the Breen always wore their environmental suits. The Tholians because no one else could survive in their Class Y planetary environment and the Breen because their cultural imperative to disguise which native species they belonged to.

SI had learned through contacts in the Imperial Senate that Sela had been ordered to ask the Pact members to assist them in the advent of an invasion. The Breen envoy was there to do the same. Expecting these requests, Sela and the Breen rep, Ansar, spoke first. Afterwards, the others debated the best course of action. They were bound to by their mutual defense treaty that underlined the Typhon Pact itself.

What had been decided was to send allied fleets to the Breen and Romulan borders with the Enforcers with the Imperial Senate and the Breen Domo in charge. Domo Brekk was the designated leader of the Confederacy. Despite his elevated position, no Breen knew his species or his planet of origin. Such things were status quo in the Confederacy in order to prevent discrimination between the assorted species. Even the electronic modulation applied to their voices prevented individual Breen from identifying the native language or dialect of another Breen.

Forger relayed most that to the Obsidian CO and XO as well as the SID team's Commander and Deputy. She then moved to the next item of business. All 5 serving Tenochtitlan-class research ships had been put into Enforcer territory. Of course, they'd all been reflagged as having been decommissioned by Starfleet and were now ostensibly operated by a shell company created by Starfleet Intelligence.

"What's a Tenochtitlan-survey ship?" Rockford had to ask.

Macen fielded the question, "That class came after the Newton-class, or to put it in better terms, they came after ships like the Copernicus."

"So these new ships replaced the Copernicus?" Rockford sought greater clarification.

"More like supplemented them. The Newtons didn't get decommissioned until the Nova-class began rolling out of the shipyards," Macen explained.

"And the Obsidian is a Nova-class ship," Rockford stated rather than asked.

"Exactly, Macen smiled.

"If I can interrupt you love birds, I have a briefing to finish," Forger remarked.

"Carry on, my dear Admiral. Carry on," Macen said.

"The problem in our deployment came when the 5 ships went missing," Forger divulged, "You'll find profiles on each vessel and their crews. The ships are the Zimbabwe, the Troy, the Carthage, the Persepolis, and the Karakorum. The ships were scattered across the newly acquired territory when they, and their 116 crewmen, suddenly vanished."

"Is there anything, or anyone, aboard that could possibly provoke the Enforcers?" Macen asked.

Forger sat perfectly still, unwilling to budge. Macen gave her a stern glare, "What's the secret, Amanda?"

"Each starship has 2 squads of SOCOMM personnel. The entire SOCOMM operation was being coordinated from the Troy by Commander Stan Guthrie," Forger relented.

"Stan Guthrie as in Joachim's Stan Guthrie?" Macen wondered.

"The very same," Forger confirmed it.

"Let me see if I heard you correctly," Riker interjected, "You put Special Operations forces on undercover ships posing as civilians?"

"Those are the essential facts," Forger stiffly replied.

"And what were they supposed to do?" Riker wanted to know.

Forger said nothing so her sister intervened, "They would most likely be tasked with sabotaging key defense installation sites."

"And why would they need to do this?" Riker asked, already dreading the answer he knew was coming.

"In order to facilitate a Starfleet entrance into the system," the younger Forger delivered the expected news.

Riker stared at Admiral Forger in shock and horror, "Haven't Federation forces lost enough lives and materiel over the last 4 years?"

"Of course we have!" Forger snapped. She took a deep breath and visibly quashed her anger, "It is felt by some in Starfleet that a preemptive strike might convince the Enforcers to hold the territorial line.

"And who thought of that idiocy?" Rockford snorted.

"The who is unimportant. All that matters is that it is felt at the highest levels," Forger confided, "Including a near majority in the Council of 5."

Macen and Rockford exchanged a rueful look and said in stereo, "Jellico."

While Forger was heartened to see they knew where the true blame lay, it was also disheartening to see Rockford sharing in Macen's antipathy for the Starfleet Commander-in-Chief, "As I said, The Powers That Be have the ear of the President and they are wearing her down."

"I can't say I'm Nanietta Bacco's biggest fan, but why would she go along with such a scheme? Starfleet is now at 40% of its strength from four years ago and that's with re-commissioning fifty year old cruisers and crewing them with hordes of enlisted personnel and a handful of officers," Macen summarized, "To be frank, we may have numbers but the quality is long gone and may never return."

"Starfleet would be committing its newest ships to the offensive while leaving the older ships behind as an internal defense force," Forger revealed.

"In case they hand you your ass and invade," Riker sniped.

Forger had the grace to merely sigh, "Essentially."

"What classes of ships are available for an incursion?" Forger's sister asked, "I thought the fleet was returning newer ships to exploration duties."

"That's true," Forger confirmed, "The entire series of Luna-class ships are exploring the Beta Quadrant. The entire run of Vespa-class ships are in the Gamma Quadrant. The surviving Galaxy- and Sovereign-class ships are beyond the Cardassian borders reaching into the heart of the Alpha Quadrant."

Forger called up a file and it boasted pictures of ships and their particulars, "That leaves us with the bulk of the Akira-, Centaur-, Challenger-, Cheyenne-, Freedom-, Intrepid-, Yeager-, Saber-, Steamrunner-, Nebula-, and Norway-classes to throw at the Enforcers. Of course, particular units would remain behind for special missions."

"I take it the Defiant, the Intrepid, the Monitor, the Merrimack, and the Hood would be among those," Macen surmised.

Forger was pleased, "Precisely. We would also retain every Defiant-class ship for any counterassault we would have to make. And this also excludes Voyager's mission to the Delta Quadrant and all of her escorts."

"I suppose you want us to discover the fate of the missing ships and their crews and to affect a rescue of the same," Macen finally brought everything back to the topic at hand.

Forger nodded, "Precisely."

"You do know that may prove impossible," Macen warned, "While the Enforcers may not have had time to construct proper military facilities they will have had to suborn the native facilities on every world they conquered. We have no access to military compounds in those territories and we have no means by which to penetrate them."

"You'll think of something," Forger countered. Seeing Macen's pained expression she added, "We don't actually expect you to get them out but we do want to know what happened to them. If we can keep Starfleet from invading, we stand a good chance of extracting them through diplomatic channels."

"You seem awfully confident of that outcome," Macen observed.

"Bob and Picard have concluded talks with the Andorians. The Andorians now understand our reasoning for withholding the Taurus Reach meta-genome data with them. They still don't agree with it but they say they understand," Forger shared, "Of course, keeping the trade routes open went a long way towards pacifying them."

Forger seemed to rouse herself, "Anyway, the point being, the Intrepid is en route to Mityr. They should be arriving at the same time you reach Atrocitus."

"Atrocitus?" Riker repeated, "You do realize that the planet was given that name for a reason?"

Forger was amused, "Brin survived on Corvat for a few days. He can withstand Atrocitus for a couple of days."

"I take it one of the ships went missing there," Macen surmised.

"Yes, the Troy arrived and was never heard from again," Forger divulged.

"And who's to say the same won't happen to us?" Riker demanded to know.

"Because there are profound differences between your mission and theirs," Forger argued, "The first is that they pretended to be civilians and you truly are civilians."

"You hope they'll know that," Riker protested.

"Captain, we're tapping their InfoNet. It's logical to assume they've been tapping our DataNet as well. Don't you think?" Forger reversed the question, "Since they have access to the DataNet, it's also logical they have information on Outbound Ventures."

"They'd at least know that Sindis hired Solarian Security Systems to kill us because he saw us as a threat," Macen remarked.

"That does little to reassure me," Riker dryly quipped.

"Take heart Captain, what the Iridians suspect they can never prove," Forger assured him.

"How can you be so certain?" he inquired.

"Because they'll probably board you as part of a border inspection," Forger related to him, "The Enforcers have instituted all petitioners to cross the border to submit to inspections."

"Looking for Starfleet personnel and equipment," Riker said sourly.

"Precisely," Forger said cheerily.

"With all due respect, Admiral, our damn ship is Starfleet equipment," Riker growled.

"Nonsense," Forger pooh pahhed his argument, "The Obsidian was a civilian build of the ship type. She was never registered in Starfleet and she never served in Starfleet. She's only been the property of one entity and that is Outbound Ventures."

"Oh, I feel so much better," Riker dryly groused.

"We'll take the job," Macen suddenly decided.

"What?!" Riker yelped.

Macen ignored him, "When do we get underway?"

"It would be best if you could leave tomorrow. The Intrepid can slow her approach to allow you to reach the border as she does," Forger instructed.

Forger looked around and saw no further questions in anyone's eyes. Riker was miffed but Macen could handle that. Forger turned to Shannon, "Ready to show me the sights?"

The younger Forger patted her Captain on the shoulder as she left, "First stop, my quarters so I can get changed."

"But you look good in a uniform," Forger complained.

Shannon laughed, "So do you but we're going dancing at Quark's so we need to look better than 'good'."

The sisters' comments could be heard as they exited. Rockford kissed Macen on the cheek and she whispered, "More to come later. Just leave Tom alive."

He gave her a wry smirk and she exited as well. Riker studied the El-Aurian for several seconds before blurting, "'We're taking the contract'? Just like that?"

"It was an easy call," Macen replied, "If you weren't bogged down by being Captain, you'd see that. As my 1st Officer you would have been leading the charge. Responsibility has been good for you, Tom. You've grown and matured into it but it's also dulled some of your considerations. The crew won't be in anymore danger here than going into Mityr 3 weeks ago."

Riker wanted to argue. Macen could see that but the human was also wrestling with what Macen had said and it was a losing fight.

"Damn you, you're right," Riker complained, "The Tom Riker that stole the Defiant and tore across Cardassian space looking for a secret shipyard wouldn't have blinked twice. The Tom Riker that captained the Eclipse for you wouldn't have either. Even as XO aboard the Solstice and then the Obsidian I wouldn't have thought twice about it."

He looked pained as he went on, "But after my stint as CO of the George Kelly I've been more cautious. My time aboard the Indomitable was spent trying to keep my crew out of danger. When I returned to the Obsidian as Captain, I did the same only worse. It was no wonder Celeste hated me. I wouldn't let the SID team under her do anything."

"There's an important difference between now and then and that's me," Macen offered.

"That sounds kind of arrogant," Riker feebly joked.

"But it's the truth. Celeste relied upon your approval to accept a contract. I don't and I won't," Macen explained, "The side effect of our arrangement is that where our team goes, your ship goes as well."

"It's still weird to hear you refer to her as my ship," Riker admitted.

"Well, she is in every sense of the word," Macen assured him and then he dropped the bomb, "However, if you can't maintain the support role to the SID team, we'll drop you. The Solstice is sitting in a hangar waiting for a crew. Hannah can fly her. Eric can man Engineering. Radil has the Tactical systems. Rab would probably stay with you because of Parva but the rest of the stations would be covered between Celeste, P'ris, and I."

"You're serious," Riker suddenly realized with a cold chill running down his spine.

"Deadly serious," Macen confirmed for him.

Riker suddenly started backpedalling, "There's no cause for that. I just didn't like that I wasn't consulted. We've taken to discussing contracts. It just rubbed me wrong that we didn't confer this time. The ship and crew are there for you, Brin. So is her captain. 100%."

"I just needed to be sure," Macen soothed Riker's feathers, "I won't always have the luxury of having time to consult with you. Amanda wanted an answer and she wanted one now."

"Okay, I'll learn to cope," Riker promised.

Macen eyed him skeptically and Riker became insistent, "This never would have been an issue if you hadn't spoiled me since you got back."

Macen wore a lopsided grin, "Good to know."

"So, you want to tell Bryce the bad news and start alerting everyone that we're deploying tomorrow?" Riker wondered.

"No, Captain. I think you can handle it," Macen's grin grew more mirthful.

"I hate you," Riker jested.

"I know and you know what? I can live with that," Macen said as he exited the briefing room.

Riker mulled over what had been discussed and then headed for the Obsidian Captain's station-side office. There, Bryce Fanning waited for the outcome of the meeting. Totally unsurprised by the outcome, she began the recall process.


Chapter Twelve

The following morning at 0800, the Obsidian departed Serenity Station. The boarding had begun boarding had begun at 0500 and concluded 2 hours later. The time spent between 0700 and 0800 was merely prep for the casting off.

The new station administrator bade them well as they exited the system. Admiral Forger also wished them well from her state room aboard the Springfield-class USS Chekov-A. The Chekov was running light, eschewing the optional mission pod carried by so many of her sisters. The ship's entire purpose in life right now was to ferry Admiral Forger and her staff about. Since the party consisted merely of two women, it wasn't an onerous chore.

From Serenity, the Chekov was headed to Cardassia Prime to confer with Castellan Rekena Garan and her Intelligence Bureau Chairman. The Chairman, one Resk Corant, was a former Military Intelligence Officer. He'd reached the rank of gul within the Cardassian Militia, a rarity in and of itself. When the Unionist government fell and the coalition of the Monarchists and the Democrats was ushered back into power, the revived Obsidian Order was once again dismantled. Many said that the Order had not gone gently into the night as the disillusioned Militia savagely crushed it.

The military, despite its dreams of recreating a supposed utopian controlled by the High Command, had realized from the lowest echelons to the highest that it couldn't actually provide stability for the Cardassian people. For the first time in Cardassia's hallowed history, the Militia voluntarily surrendered power to the civilian government and handed Gul Maret over the Provisional Government.

The installment of Katreen Dervin to the ancient throne of Cardassia and as Head of State created such a shift in perception in gender roles that Rekena Garan was able to be elected Castellan. For the first time in eons the Cardassians had two women in power over them, one royal and one elected official. It hearkened back to the days before the High Command and the Obsidian Order.

Still, the Bureau under Corant was a far cry from the Obsidian Order. Garan was proving herself a valuable ally to the UFP and she and Dervin honestly wanted the Constitutional Monarchy to work. The Federation President's request that Garan guide the Cardassian Union into signing the Khitomer Accords treaties had only been propelled even further and faster by Dervin. While Garan had come into womanhood during the Dominion War, Dervin had spent the war residing in the Federation. She knew her people couldn't remain isolationists forever. And as far as the role of conqueror went, how many worlds could they conquer before they in turn were toppled by their subject nations?

The Cardassians had finally returned to pre-war levels of their population and military machine. One entire Militia Order, the 9th, was dedicated to a joint Khitomer Accords fleet. The Klingons had dispatched their Vor'keth Fleet as well. The Federation's 9th Fleet had been incorporated into the combined task force. Even the Ferengi Alliance had sent a Horde of 12 Marauders. The Ferengi had recently wrapped up their territorial dispute with the Breen through a realignment of mutual borders in a deal brokered by Grand Nagus Rom and Domo Brekk.

This allied task force patrolled the border between the Federation and the Enforcer Territories. Although no longer touching the Enforcer's borders thanks to the treaty with the Breen Confederacy, the Ferengi would surely be caught in the crosshairs if an invasion began. Despite critics that accused the Ferengi of barely contributing to the task force, there were those like Nechayev and Forger that knew of how the Ferengi's merchant fleet was entering the Enforcer Territories and surveying them for the Task Force and the allied intelligence organs. Starfleet's Alpha Quadrant Theater Commander, Admiral Leonard James Akaar and Fleet Admiral Jellico knew the truth and valued the Ferengi's participation.

The Ferengi merchant captains had provided details on the changes wrought on Enforcer controlled territories in exchange for compensation. Financial rewards were the most attractive enticement to the Ferengi merchants so they received what they sought. Deals were made, new markets opened, and bounties were paid.

The end result was that Starfleet wanted hands on intelligence gathering and so the Tenochtitlan-class survey ships had been sent in with SOCOMM support. And that had ended in potential disaster. Besides ascertaining the fate of the Starfleet crewmen one other instigator had pushed Starfleet Command into mobilizing the SID. The Enforcers were requesting permission to transit the Bajoran Wormhole and enter the Gamma Quadrant.


Ro Laren, the crew of the Defiant, and the surviving elements of the 7th Fleet stationed in the Bajor Sector had been placed on high alert. The Federation Council had authorized the Diplomatic Corps to allow civilian ships through but the Enforcers were adamant about deploying military assets to the Gamma Quadrant.

Forger had privately approached Macen and asked him to look into Enforcer's deployment plans. Macen had refused. Forger had physically recoiled as though she were slapped.

Macen took her to the side of the Promenade's space, "Look Amanda, we're already trying to pull off the impossible. How do you want us to go about getting the intel? Seriously? Do you want us to approach the closest Enforcer cruiser and politely inquire as to whether or not they intended to invade the Federation in order to gain access to the wormhole?" His eyes had bored into hers, "We'll keep an eye on fleet movements but in that regard we won't be any more effective than the Ferengi and the other merchant ships you've managed to recruit."

Now they were underway and Riker had agreed to discreetly monitor Enforcer fleet movements. Active sensors, beyond those required for navigation, would tip their hand. Fortunately the Obsidian's passive arrays' capabilities exceeded that of the active sensors of most freighters. The ship and her crew would be well aware of anything occurring in their vicinity.


The SID team gathered in their dedicated briefing room. Riker and Danan were excluded. Macen and Riker had hashed out an outline for an operations plan. Rockford had contributed as had Danan, who provided the requirements for the most effective scans of the region.

Macen and Rockford explained to the team that their role was ill defined and largely open to interpretation. Daggit was suited to such a role as was Radil. They both had survived worse in the past under more nebulous terms. Macen had been there for some of Daggit's adventures when the Angosian served in a commando unit behind Dominion lines. They'd often had a vague mandate to destroy a particular target while leaving the details up to Ro, Macen, and Daggit.

Radil was also nonchalant about the terms of their operation. As a mercenary she'd served in many units that chose to frequently "wing it". It was just part of the job, best avoided if one could but dealt with when it happened. McMasters was somewhat used to it from his days with the Maquis but those assaults that he'd participated in had been planned out. This time there was no plan and it discomfited him.

Grace was the one at a loss. As a pilot, she generally had a clearly delineated target. What you couldn't attack you evaded. Now she had no clear enemy or recourse of what to do should an enemy present itself. To say she was unhappy was an infinitesimal assessment of a major problem.

"What are our ROE's?" Daggit asked. It made sense to start with the Rules of Engagement since that determined what courses of action could be taken when.

"Unknown," Macen hated to confide, "The universal basics apply: fire if fired upon and some such."

"Unless they're Argyn," Rockford teased.

It had been Rockford's discovery that the Argyn's litmus test for civilized behavior was sacrificing one's life when attacked. Of course, she'd also pointed out to them that they didn't follow their own rule. They'd brusquely brushed that concern aside and halted hostilities against the Federation based upon her willingness to sacrifice her life in the stead of trillions of lives. As a result, a generational, genocidal war had been averted.

"Yes, we mustn't forget them," Macen dryly remarked, "Back to business though, we know from the merchant fleet assets that individuals, including alien visitors, can bear arms. We just don't know how the Iridian ground units would react to weapons being used."

"In fact, the point is we know nothing about them. Starfleet Intelligence has been engaged in a cyber war with them for a decade now. The only Iridian, and ex-Enforcer, to leave their territory and enter Federation space was Bertram Sindis. I'm sure we all have the fondest memories of him."

Sindis had personally killed Gantz and Joachim Dracas when they'd been members of the team. Even more personally to Macen, Sindis had killed T'Kir while she'd been his wife. Macen looked to Rockford.

"Annika Ryst was a close ally of his for several weeks. You share her memories now. Did she know anything useful?" Macen asked.

Rockford shifted uncomfortably. Ryst had been the base template for the various personalities that had shard Ryst's body, including Rockford. They were all gone now and she had all of the collected memories, which meant her life was now a coherent whole, but those memories were filled with bitterness, hatred, and pain.

"In the end, you probably knew Sindis better than Annika did," she shared.

"That's what I was afraid of," Macen said sourly, "Sindis had been a sector commander in the Enforcers. We have to assume he was a typical representation of an Enforcer officer. If that's the case, we're in trouble."

There was a general murmur of assent to that proclamation. Grace asked the obvious, "Say we end up in a firefight. How will that affect the Obsidian?"

"We have to assume that the Iridian authorities will call in the closest cruiser and have them attempt to deal with her," Macen responded.

"What kind of odds would she have at that point?" McMasters asked.

"Enforcer ships are graduated in class from destroyer, to frigate, to light cruiser, next follows the heavy cruiser, and finally there's the dreadnought." Macen explained, "A destroyer, which is the least of their ships, outruns and outguns the Obsidian. They can bring twice as much firepower to bear. It just gets exponentially worse from there."

He delivered the death knell, "Their heavy cruisers are contemporary with Galaxy-, Nebula-, and Sovereign-class starships. The Vesta- and Luna-classes should also prove a match but there is no Federation contemporary for the dreadnoughts."

"What about a Dominion battleship?" Daggit quietly asked.

"That's the closest known match," Macen replied.

"What about the Typhon Pact?" Grace wondered, "Do you think the Enforcers will actually invade Breen and Romulan territory?"

"I think it's a good possibility," Macen answered. Seeing the worry in the eyes of his teammates he elaborated, "Sindis usually opted to pursue the most unexpected and audacious plan available. The only limiting factor in the Enforcers' ambitions is manpower but they've had 3 weeks to reinforce and consolidate their forward positions."

"They couldn't position that much hardware without anyone noticing, could they?" McMasters had to ask.

"Eric, we literally have no idea of how large the Enforcer Territories are or how much manpower and equipment they can bring to bear," Macen explained, "Worse case scenario is that they not only have the resources available but that they also have them staged to go at a moment's notice. As far as anyone spotting them, they're jamming the entire frontier so long range scans are useless and we have no observation arrays anywhere near here."

"There may be a way to obtain that data," P'ris broke her silence. Macen gave her a quizzical glance and she squirmed in her seat, "As Starfleet is aware of, but cannot conclusively prove, the Star Empire has perfected a transphasic cloak. This cloak enables us to not only proceed undetected within a shroud of a 'perfect' cloak but it also enables the equipped vessel to phase through solid matter." P'ris took a deep breath and committed herself to the plunge, "The Tal Shiar has undoubtedly deployed assets into Enforcer territory utilizing these cloaks and has likely acquired the information you seek." All eyes rested on her as the room filled with a pregnant pause. She cleared her throat, "It is likely I could still access the appropriate databases to determine if they have this intelligence."

"I take it all back," McMasters quipped, "I love you."

P'ris' cheeks flushed emerald and she leaned to Rockford to make an inquiry. Rockford rested a hand on her shoulder and assured her, "It's okay. He's spoken for."

"You are certain?" P'ris whispered.

"I am," Rockford reassured her, "Because if he screws with Shannon, I'll kill him."

P'ris noted the conviction behind that statement. From what she knew of Rockford and Forger, it seemed that Forger would be a natural friend to Rockford. The transsexual woman was considered something of an aberration amongst human society and the Angosian had been completely rejected by her native culture.

P'ris found it ludicrous that humans readily accepted post op transgender women and men but reviled non op transsexuals. Humans embraced homo-, bi-, and heterosexual individuals. They accepted polysexual beings but they couldn't accept a transsexual which was to their own lasting shame.

Macen decided to break the surface tension, "How long would it take you to do this?"

"I would need a comp/comm in the Infosys Center and a buffered comm line connection," P'ris stated.

"But there are no direct connections," Macen countered.

"Come now Commander, you and I both know that the diplomatic relays are open and that both sides' intelligence organs piggyback on them to access the others' infonets," P'ris replied.

"Maybe...maybe not," Macen furtively replied.

P'ris rolled her eyes, "Oh please! You are no longer Starfleet and I am a teammate. We can be honest amongst ourselves."

"Now you finally concede that I'm no longer a member of Starfleet?" Macen asked out of exasperation.

"Yes. You are something infinitely worse: a freelancer," P'ris smiled victoriously. Macen didn't reply and at long last she knew she finally had him. She exulted in her victory but she decided not to press her luck by gloating. Instead she offered a reassurance, "I cannot condemn you for I am one of your agents now and am also a freelance operative."

Macen was just relieved to have her thinking of herself as a member of the team. He knew that would be her greatest hurdle in her new situation. Romulan elitism had no place amongst his SID team. Especially since she was well and truly an outcast from Romulan society now.

"That still doesn't answer how long it would take," he said dryly.

P'ris' smile was a sly one, "I will require one hour."

"Then we'll reconvene in two," Macen decided.


Macen led the way to the Infosys Center next door. Rockford followed as did P'ris. Grace tagged along out of morbid curiosity. Each took a seat at their dedicated desks. A chime sounded and McMasters and Radil entered in for much the same reasons Grace was present. Fortunately, folding chairs were available and they set themselves up next to Grace's desk.

Macen had a wall to himself and Rockford occupied the closest desk to his. P'ris possessed the desk nest to hers. P'ris began by adding this caveat.

"I do not mind if Commander Macen and Detective Rockford observe my work but I cannot share the secrets of the Tal Shiar to just anyone, friend or not," she warned.

The other three team members grumbled as they departed and Rockford grinned at the Romulan, "You sure told them."

"Be advised Detective, if you were not the Deputy Mission Commander you would not be staying either," P'ris merrily revealed.

"Then it's a good thing I am," Rockford cheerfully replied.

"P'ris, I'll walk you through isolating your comm band and firewalling it from the main core," Macen intervened.

"Humph!" Rockford indignantly snorted, "We're just having too much fun for a fuddy duddy like you."

"You wish," he flippantly replied, "Ready P'ris?"

"As ever," P'ris delightedly stated.

P'ris easily piggybacked the diplomatic channels leading to the new Romulan capitol planet. Ch'Rhihann was one of the oldest Imperial colonies. It had several highly developed industries as well as a close proximity to the Alhean worlds. The Alhean cluster supported six agricultural worlds where most of the Romulans' food and medicinals derived from. Of course, the trade between the Star Empire and its Typhon Pact allies had greatly expanded the Romulans' palate and pharmaceutical options.

P'ris inquiry was routed through the Romulan CommNet into the Tal Shiar's databases. From there she navigated through the agency's taps into the Imperial Fleet's networks. Sensor scans along the border shared with the newly established Enforcer territory had all been jammed alongside the Breen's and the Federation's. The Typhon Pact had brought visual telescopes to bear and had detected extensive traffic behind the borders. Of course, phased Warbirds had also crossed the border unseen and undetected.

One effect of the Enforcers' grab of over two dozen sectors, comprised of over 300 M-class worlds and their hosts' star systems, had been to divide the Typhon Pact in half. The Breen and Tzenkethi sat on the Alpha Quadrant side of the Federation while the Romulans, the Kinshaya, Gorn, and the Tholians sat in the Beta Quadrant side. The Pact fleet units had to transit Federation space in order to reach one another.

Of course, the Tzenkethi were virtually isolated by the surrounding Cardassian Union and the Federation. On the other side of the Tzenkethi Coalition was the Andergani Oligarchy who barely tolerated their more advanced neighbors. Only a mutual loathing of the Khitomer Accords nations, and a healthy dose of fear, kept the Andergani from striking out at the Coalition.

Fortunately for the Pact, the Romulans had shared their cloaking technology. Of course, the Romulans had shared the previous generation of tech. The Star Empire reserved its transphasic cloaks for itself and its forces. This show of antagonism had almost sundered the Typhon Pact. Fortunately for the Romulans, their greater size and military capacity was proven to be necessary to the Pact's success.


"It seems the Pact has observed significant movement across the border," P'ris described as she transmitted the imagery to Macen and Rockford's terminals, "The observation platforms had detected the gathering of sizeable fleet assets. They are staged and appear ready to strike."

"We have to transmit this data to Starfleet Intelligence," Macen suggested.

"As long as the means used to collect it are omitted, I shall be satisfied," P'ris agreed.

Macen packaged and encrypted the intel and sent it off to Starfleet Command. Starfleet Intelligence had left San Francisco and moved into the nearly deserted Special Investigations Division HQ in Reading, England. Admirals and Forger shared one floor of the building while the staffers and analysts filled the rest of the building.

Forger was headed to Cardassia but Nechayev should be manning the fort. He was confident that Nechayev would swiftly brief both Akaar and Jellico. Undoubtedly the rest of the Council of 5 would also be updated meaning Forger, Edward Noyce, and Bob Johnson would also be apprised. How that would affect Johnson and Picard's negotiations with the Iridians was anyone's guess.

How it would affect their mission was also a variable that was now thrust into play. If the Enforcers intended to strike out at the Khitomer Accords fleet and the Federation in general, what would they do with civilian traffic within their borders? Also, would they make a push to the Bajoran wormhole and if so, would they transit into the Gamma Quadrant? Yet another question was why did they deem it so important to reach the Gamma Quadrant?

The Dominion had closed its borders 13 years ago with the conclusion of the war against the Allied forces. Sensor buoys deposited all across the Dominion's established border had detected Jem'Hadar ships on patrol but none had ever crossed the border. So too, ships attempting to cross the border had been turned back, sometimes by force.

No contact had been made since Odo had traveled back to Bajor in 2376 to celebrate its admission to the Federation. He'd said his final farewells to then Colonel Kira Nerys and returned to the Dominion after warning the Federation that the borders were closed and guarded. No one knew what had become of the "solids" that were subjects of the Founders or of the Founders themselves. If the Enforcers managed to penetrate as far as the Bajoran system and make it through the wormhole, how would the Dominion react and whom would they blame?


Chapter Thirteen

P'ris' intel data made the rounds through the upper echelons of Starfleet Command within mere hours of its reception. Despite the heavy usage of subspace transceiver buoys and boosters, the message still took 8 hours to reach Earth from the Obsidian's position near the border. Once on Earth it went from Nechayev's desk to a secure briefing room in Starfleet Command HQ in San Francisco.

Jellico, Akaar, and Noyce were the live participants of the briefing. Forger and Johnson attended by holographic remote. That test bed technology had been largely abandoned in the fleet for anything less than a meeting of flag officers. It was deemed too distracting for anything other than a briefing session in peaceful circumstances.

Forger had been called out of a session with Corant and Garan by Ambril. She had to transport back to the Chekov to use the single, retrofitted holodeck aboard. It recreated the Earth based room and its occupants even as holoemitters on Earth recreated her visage for the participants there. Bob Johnson did the same from the Intrepid.

Nechayev rose and nodded to the participants, live and holographic; "Six hours ago we received intel from a credible source detailing the Romulan efforts to pass through the Enforcers' lines and acquire hard data on the Enforcers'' movements. This was accomplished by a network of optical telescopes and Romulan ships of the line utilizing their transphasic cloaks to literally pass through Enforcer border patrols."

She let the weight of that revelation sink in before continuing, "That's right folks. Our fears have become a reality. The Typhon Pact wanted to level the playing field with our quantum slipstream drives, well they have."

"Have the Romulans distributed this cloak amongst all of the Pact member nations?" Jellico wanted to know.

"No," came Nechayev's succinct answer. Seeing that more reassurance was needed she elaborated, "The Romulans are reserving the transphasic cloak for themselves and relegating the traditional cloaks to the other Pact members."

"How are the other members of the Pact responding to this development?" Johnson asked, wondering if it was time to apply diplomatic pressure to sway the castigated members out of the Pact.

"Since the Romulan Imperial Fleet comprises a literal 50% of the Pact forces, the others are taking it with a grain of salt. Those most willing to accommodate this new reality are the Breen," Nechayev explained, "The Confederacy and the Star Empire seem to be cooperating on a number of initiatives."

"And the name of your source?" Akaar asked.

"That's 'Eyes Only" information," Nechayev replied stiffly.

"Alynna, we comprise the height of Starfleet's command echelon. It only gets higher in the President's office," Akaar said with a touch of menace. For all of his years off of Cappella IV, he was still a product of its warrior culture.

"It's obvious who the source is," Jellico sneered, "It's Macen's pet Romulan."

"Edward!" Nechayev snapped, "I personally debriefed Commander P'ris. I can freely attest to the fact that she is not anyone's pet anything."

"Amanda," Akaar intervened as the C-in-C fumed and Nechayev shot him glares, "you've had recent contact with P'ris. What is your assessment?"

"She's honestly committed to Macen's team," Forger reported, "Whereas she wouldn't be with an official Starfleet team."

"As I understand it, the woman considers herself to be a true Romulan patriot," Noyce spoke up, "So why is it she's been endorsed to work within Macen's SID team?"

"P'ris received my approval to work with Macen's team for several reasons," Forger bit back, "The first being that she is an ideal candidate because she considers herself a patriot. She defected in order to preserve the peace between the Typhon Pact and the Khitomer Accords nations. She sees favored relations between the two entities as the best course for her people. Because of that alone, she'd get my approval."

"Secondly, Macen is an independent operator and is free to choose whoever he wants to be on his team. Need I remind you that this very fact of life has given many of us heartburn on occasion?" Forger inquired, "Now I could abstain from handing Macen any contracts while P'ris is in his employ but we tried that before. Twice. The first time when we terminated his employment we came crawling back after three years had passed. This last time, which lasted a year, nearly crippled my division."

"Since when is Starfleet about a single man or team?" Noyce chomped on that one.

"Tell that to Captain Dax and the crew of the Aventine, or Calhoun and the crew of the Excalibur, or how about Chakotay and the crew of the Voyager," Forger fought back, "Do I even dare mention Captain Ro and the Defiant crew or Riker and the crew aboard the Titan?"

Noyce flushed as his temper rose, "Those are highly trained individuals who work for the benefit of the Federation and the service."

"And Macen isn't highly trained?" Forger said mockingly, "He had an 80 year career in Starfleet Intelligence as both an analyst and a field operative."

"He also faced a court martial and was tossed out of Starfleet," Noyce snapped.

"He retired," Forger clarified.

"And let's not mention him getting convicted of murder," Noyce said nastily.

"A conviction which was overturned," Forger growled.

"We are you defending him?" Noyce yelled, "He's a menace that makes your entire division look bad!"

"Because if it wasn't for him and his team we would still be facing the Omicron or the Argyn. If not for them we wouldn't have ties with the Nova Romans, the Iotians, the Ekosians and the Zeons," Forger said passionately, "Without them, Bertram Sindis would be in charge of this invasion and we all remember what a ruthless bastard he was, don't we?"

Knowing that the entire Council of 5 had sweated Sindis' control of the Meirkus Conglomeration and the Orion Syndicate she smiled in predatory triumph as she went for Noyce's jugular, "Macen's team has faced greater than average threats and overcome them time after time. We need him."

Forger switched tactics, "If you recall, the SID was created as Starfleet's answer to Section 31. Macen and Section 31 have an informal truce. They stay out of each others' way. We need that freedom. S31 has stayed quiet since the Cell 51 affair but they haven't gone away."

Forger let her statement settle in, "Section 31 undoubtedly already has operatives across the border and it's conceivable that they'll cooperate with Macen."

"What makes you think so?" Jellico stepped in.

"Because I informed Bill Ross of the mission," Forger replied.

That little bombshell silenced everyone, even Jellico. Akaar found his voice before anyone else did, "And why did you do that?"

"For three basic reasons," Forger began to explain, "First, no restrictions were put on who could or could not know of Macen's mission. Two, Ross has a high enough security clearance for me to apprise him. After all, he was the field commander of the Allied offensive during the Dominion War. Third and most importantly, Ross has cooperated with Section 31 on at least 4 documented occasions. It is likely that he will inform his contacts of this mission and they in turn will inform their field operatives."

"You informed Ross precisely because he'll hand the information out?" Jellico choked, "I think it may be time to review the SID Director."

Forger was decidedly unfazed by the threat, "Do what you have to do. I did what was best for my agency and my agents."

"They aren't your anything," Noyce rattled off, "The SID is a Starfleet agency and therefore those are Starfleet's agents."

"Oh, get stuffed, Ed," Forger fired back, "My agency exists entirely to give Starfleet a backdoor to working on things. A backdoor that it completely deniable and can be disavowed in a heartbeat. After all, do we really want it known to anyone that we're inserting agents into Enforcer territory?"

Silence descended once again as Forger pressed on, "President Bacco personally ordered Starfleet to sit on its hands while the diplomats barter for the lives of the Starfleet crews that have been presumably captured. The SID can act precisely because our agents aren't Starfleet regulars. They're independent contractors with the liberty to move around the President's prohibition."

"Frinxing mercenaries are what they are," Noyce darkly grumbled.

"Ed, may I remind you that you've supported the SID and its mission on many occasions," Johnson appealed to Noyce as his former protégé.

Noyce was well aware of Johnson's former role and how he'd mentored him but it was plainly obvious that his pupil had grown into a flag officer on his own, "You're actually behind this."

Johnson nodded, "I don't expect negotiations with the Iridians to go well. They're as one sided as the Kelvans and we can all recall how far our entreaties to that particular group have gone."

Negotiations with the Kelvans had stalled mostly because the extragalactic colonists wanted an entirely one sided relationship. They would take and the Federation would give. However, with all of the newly arrived settlers undergoing the same adaptations to human form that Rojan and his band had undergone 120 years ago, they were understandably unnerved and frightfully worried that they would lose their cultural identity. To have such descendents of the original scouting party such as Hannah Grace only reinforced their fears.

"It's bad enough dealing with histrionics of the Typhon Pact. We really don't need this right now," Jellico grumbled.

"Actually, the Typhon Pact is making overtures towards the Khitomer Accords allies. The Enforcers have them scared after their losses to the Argyn. They know they can't afford a two front war. Empress Donatra has sent representatives to the Diplomatic Corps and they're willing to talk about a non-aggression pact while the Enforcers rattle their sabers," Johnson added.

"Yet we know they're pushing the Gorn towards a conflict with us," Nechayev snorted.

"And Donatra knows that we know," Johnson chuckled, "It's just another chess move to her. We're a known variable and one that the Star Empire has allied itself with in the past. The Enforcers are just the boogeyman that can drive them into our camp."

"How earnest are the Romulans?" Jellico interest has been piqued.

"Ambassador Picard's contacts in the Service say the entire Typhon Pact is being represented by the Romulan envoys. They're running scared. They know an invasion is imminent. They want us out of the way while they potentially fight for their lives," Johnson elaborated.

"Smart, but why did they come to this conclusion?" Akaar asked, "At least, why now?"

"Theories abound but given Alynna's data, I'd say they know the Ferengi have made serious inroads with the Iridians and since the Ferengi are our allies..." Johnson left the though dangling.

"Hot damn!" Jellico exclaimed, "They think we'll strike a bargain with the Enforcers."

"That's the leading consensus," Johnson shared, "They want to secure their backdoor and prevent a flanking maneuver from the Khitomer nations should we reach an accord with the Iridians."

"Why hasn't the Pact approached the Iridians?" Akaar asked.

Johnson's answering smile was rueful, "They probably have, just as we have, and been rebuffed just as we have."

"Besides, there's a cultural conflict between the Romulans and the Iridians," Nechayev sagely pointed out. All eyes turned to her so she expanded on her theme, "They both think they're God's gift to the universe. There's only room for one top dog in their cultural biases."

"But what about the rumored 'masters' of the Enforcers?" Jellico asked.

Nechayev shrugged, "Who's to say they aren't just more Iridians with fancy titles?"

"Damn," Jellico grunted, "We really need to open a dialogue with the Iridian leadership."

"That is the mission Jean-Luc and I are on," Johnson dryly reminded him.

"Yes, I know," Jellico irritably replied, "It just needs to succeed. If for no other reason than to null and void Macen's reasons for being in Enforcer territory."

"You really think the Iridians will hand back the Starfleet crews that they've presumably captured?" Nechayev sought clarification.

"If they want to be our friends they will," Jellico sniffed.

"I think that's an unlikely outcome," Johnson interjected.

Jellico was irked, "And why is that, Bob?"

"We may not know much about the Enforcers but we do know that they are so named because they impose a very strict set of laws, rules, and regulations upon their subject nations. Our crews violated every tenet that they adhere to. They'll want to make an example out of them in order to insure that we don't repeat ourselves," Johnson explained.

"Well, it's your job to make certain they don't. They either hand over our people or they face definite consequences," Jellico declared.

"And what do you suppose I threaten them with? All out war? Because you know that's completely off the table," Johnson reminded Jellico of President Bacco's prohibition against instigating a fight with the Enforcers. The mission of the undercover science vessels was dicey enough already. Fortunately for Starfleet Command, the injunction was put into place after the Starfleet vessels went missing.

Jellico suddenly turned his attention to Forger, "Can Macen pull this off without plunging us into war?"

"That remains to be seen," Forger hedged her options, "If the Enforcers have our people, they're not going to give them up easily."

"That's a 'no'," Jellico groused.

"Not necessarily," Nechayev spoke up. Seeing she had everyone's attention again, she began to divulge, "The Enforcers know about Macen. Sindis respected him. Hell, he was scared of him. Recently uncovered evidence supports the theory that Sindis was behind Solarian Security Systems attack upon Outbound Ventures, not the Omicron, Ezexial."

"Sindis went out of his way to attack Amanda. He framed Macen for his murder. He unleashed the Lantillian Night Coven on Serenity Station. He personally faced down Macen at the end and killed his wife. These were all deeply personal acts. It takes a particular kind of hate to continually strike out with that kind of intensity," Nechayev continued, "Macen interfered with Sindis' plans in Cardassia, on Magna Roma, with Ekos and Zeon, and with Bolshevik. All during this time, Sindis was plotting an invasion into the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. He obviously felt that Outbound Ventures, and Brin Macen in particular, were impediments to his plans."

"For all of these reasons it was the best decision we could make to assign the rescue operation to Macen," Nechayev concluded.

"If all of this is true, then they'll see him coming a kilometer away," Jellico argued.

"Not true," Forger leapt into the fray, "Macen is well known for stretching the boundaries of his contracts beyond the breaking point. That adds to our plausible deniability. He's a rogue operator mounting a mission on his own. Starfleet is absolved of any and all responsibility. With Starfleet cleared, that eliminates any culpability that the Federation might face. If the crews are being held, Macen will make a play for them. Whether or not he succeeds is beside the point."

Jellico's mouth worked a silent protest but Forger pushed her way past it, "The point is: Starfleet isn't involved. We can even volunteer to punish Macen on the Enforcer's behalf."

"What if they want his head on a plate?" Jellico asked sharply.

Forger's holographic image echoed her real life frown, "Then we have a few decisions to make."


Two days later the Obsidian crossed the imaginary line that denoted the border with the Enforcers. Marker buoys had been placed and they commed the starship as it passed. They transmitted a list of regulations applicable to all Enforcer controlled areas. The ship set course for Atrocitus. 15 light years into Enforcer space, they were intercepted by an Enforcer light cruiser.

The Enforcers had them heave to and they were boarded. The inspection party came away satisfied and the team leader promised to advise Atrocitus Local Control of their impending arrival. Riker and Forger made their way back to the bridge from the transporter room.

"Awfully skittish, weren't they?" Forger smirked.

"Brin thinks we have a rep amongst the Enforcers because of Sindis," Riker explained.

The doors of the lift swooshed open and they headed for their seats in the middle of the bridge. Forger plopped down while Riker was a little more dignified as he retook his seat.

"Hell, I'm glad that they're goosy around us. Maybe that means they won't start a shooting match," she expressed her fervent desire.

Riker gave her a wry look, "You should know better than that."

"Hey! It could happen, she huffed.

"Keep dreaming, sister," Riker shifted his attention to Rhiann, "Resume course and speed, Rhiann."

The zhen played with her console and the ship's impulse drivers began to thrum as the ship accelerated. After progressing to .5c, she activated the warp drive and translated them into subspace. Pushing to a cruising speed of Warp 6, she trimmed out and held that speed. At that speed and on their current vector they would reach their destination in 7 hours. Plenty of time for everyone's nerves to get a little frayed.

"Holy crap," Forger breathed as she took in the sight displayed by the viewer. All 5 Tenochtitlan-class survey ships were in orbit over Atrocitus. Watching over them were two frigates and a heavy cruiser. Any one of which easily overpowered the Obsidian.

"Well, at least we hit pay dirt," Forger weakly offered.

Riker hit his comm panel, "Brin, are you seeing this?"

"Affirmative," Macen's voice came back, "We're in the briefing room. Why don't you stop by?"

"On my way," Riker acknowledged. Turning to Forger he grinned, "Don't get us shot at while I'm gone."

"Not a problem. I'm just gonna sit here and bury my head in the sand and pretend they're not here," she promised.

"Good girl," Riker said and started to walk towards the lift.

"Woof," she retorted.

Riker flashed a confident smile as the lift doors closed. Once they'd shut his smile swiftly faded. He was left wondering just how the hell they were supposed to pull this one off?


Chapter Fourteen

Atrocitus was a barren world, in many ways even more desolate than Corvat. Of course Corvat had been "dropped" into a star so there was no longer any basis for comparison. Atrocitus was composed of one massive land mass. That land mass was differentiated into several different types of desert.

The primary difference between Corvat and Atrocitus is that the latter did not possess any water on the surface. It existed in deep aquifers but there was absolutely none on the surface of the planet. The oxygen contained in the atmosphere had once been generated and replenished by lush vegetation fed by abundant water sources but then the stars composing the binary pair that dominated the solar system shifted. Arrhenius A shrank into being a white dwarf and Arrhenius B expanded from a G-Class yellow star into an M-class red giant. With one ultra bright main sequence star and a cooler supergiant, the orbital tracks of the captured planets had all shifted.

The ancient cataclysm had devastated the ecosphere on Atrocitus but it had also exposed vast deposits of dilithium. These deposits made the planet strategically valuable because of the importance of dilithium in controlling matter/antimatter annihilations. The vast energies unleashed by such annihilations were channeled and tapped through focusing them through dilithium crystals.

Atrocitus had been colonized by the Pewtree. This avian species had physically evolved away from biological flight even as they discovered powered flight and then spaceflight. They were largely humanoid with feathers instead of hair, raptor-like eyes, and a vestigial beak-like nose that extended over their upper "lips".

The Pewtree had established a mining colony on Atrocitus some 150 years ago since their homeworld of Petraw was within 20 light years of the eventual colony. Having erected massive atmosphere processors and established a colony on the world, they defended their planetary interests several times from independent raiders and agents of the nearby Kalawnee. The Kalawnee had developed a sustainable space faring fleet well after the Pewtree, some 175 years later, and discovered that they were technologically behind most of their neighbors.

The Kalawnee conquered a pre-warp industrial world in the solar system next to the Arrhenius system. Subsequently they tried invading Atrocitus on many occasions. They even attacked Petraw directly. They were repulsed at every turn.

Despite coming from a predatory species, the Pewtree were relatively even tempered. They actively sought rapprochement with the Kalawnee but the aggressors would have none of it. As such, the Pewtree welcomed the Enforcers and the end of the conflict. The large scale contracts that the Iridians offered for shipments of dilithium had helped persuade the Pewtree to embrace the Enforcer takeover.

This became evident as Macen and the investigative team monitored Pewtree social media and news channels as they approached Pewtree space. The Pewtree Navy now served as a Home Fleet for Petraw and its solar system. As the Obsidian sailed through Petraw's defense grid, Riker explained to the authorities concerned that he was headed to Atrocitus to broker a deal between the mining concerns and Outbound Ventures. Which was true up to a point.

Macen had roped in one of Outbound Ventures' logistics staffers stationed aboard Serenity and brought them along. The poor chap was an Unjoined Trill and he'd proven that he didn't have the stomach for space travel. Kalista and Tessa watched over him, much to Galen 3's chagrin in Tessa's case. It took the chap nearly 6 months to adjust to life on Serenity. Kort had begun to use his name as a swear word before that happened.

The poor manager's name was Rek Nuble. He'd entertained notions of joining Starfleet in his youth. He'd always imagined a career as an administrative officer or a project manager. He was crushed when an inner system shuttle ride had destroyed those dreams. Still he was determined to go out to space. He'd been with a minor firm on Trellius IX until he answered a recruiting inquiry from Outbound Ventures.

He travelled to Barrinor and sat out the next few years at corporate HQ. When Serenity began construction, Nuble immediately volunteered to be its logistics and supply officer. As a rising star within his department with no prospects until someone else retired, he was gratefully granted the position by Kathy Tyrol. He, in turn, gratefully accepted it.

It was Nuble's job to keep the station supplied with any and every part it could conceivably need, including those used in starship repair. Kort ran his supply demands through Nuble. The supply officers aboard the Outbound Ventures also ran all of their requests by and through him. He'd never been happier.

There was one ship though, that ran its supply requests through the secretive engineers that ran Repair Bay 3. Where an ore processor would usually be located on a Nor-class station, Serenity boasted an industrial replicator. 3 pylon intersections meant 3 industrial replicators. Repair Bays 1 and 2 serviced commercial traffic for a fee and the Outbound Ventures fleet while Bay 3 mysteriously sat out most of the time and only serviced the Obsidian. It had been the 3 engineers of Bay 3 that supported the USS Burnett's repairs as the Cheyenne-class starship was tended to after its valiant defense of the station.

No one aboard the station knew who the mysterious engineers ultimately served. They weren't listed amongst the station's personnel. Their familiarity with Starfleet ship designs and construction suggested that they were really Starfleet engineers. But if that were so, why did they exclusively service the Obsidian?

Nuble had double checked the personnel records. Captain Riker and his crew were employees. Even Brin Macen and his special team were employees. Despite having heard rumors to the effect, Nuble was quite startled to discover Macen owned Outbound Ventures. Nuble had always assumed somebody owned the company; whether a person or an entity, but he'd never suspected that the owner of the corporation routinely threw himself into harm's way.

Nuble knew better than most what kind of punishment the Outbound Ventures crew typically endured. His replenishment requests were always high on parts, for both ships and bodies. He'd looked into the corporate charter and really found out what the corporation did. He'd sent a comm message to Tyrol and thanked her one last time for placing him in a position where he could actively support and help such brave men and women. Imagine his surprise when Macen had approached him with a request for his personal assistance. That's when he'd been shanghaied.

Now Nuble was hiding in plain sight in the Team Room. He cringed as Riker called for him. He reluctantly tapped his visitor's comm badge.

"Nuble here," he hoped his voice didn't shake.

"We've arrived," Riker informed him, "You'll be joining me in the transporter room in 10 minutes and we'll beam down to the surface. The trade commission for the colony is awaiting us."

"I'll be there, Captain," he glumly replied.

Kalista was having a hard time controlling her snickering. He knew all about her pheromones and their arousing tendencies and he didn't care. He wanted to grab the back of her head by her hair, only she didn't have any hair, and force himself upon her. She interrupted his lustful thoughts with a laugh and a knowing smile.

"Come along, Lover Boy, you have to go dirtside," she pulled him out of his seat.

"'Dirtside'?" he repeated.

She bequeathed a warm smile onto him, "That's merchant fleet talk for a planet."

"But this isn't a merchant ship," he protested.

Her laugh tinkled through the air, "It is now."

Nuble guessed that was true enough so he subsided his qualms and reported to the transporter room. Once there, Riker gave him an encouraging word. Still finding his courage flagging, Nuble was utterly shocked when Kalista talked Telrik into waiting for a moment. She strode up to Nuble, drew in for kiss, and almost sucked his tongue out.

"Bear up a little while longer and all your dreams may come true," she winked and returned to the transporter console. She nodded at Telrik and smiled; "Now you can beam them down."

Telrik eyed Kalista after the transporter effect had faded, "I thought you'd agreed not to take advantage of wayward souls like his."

Kalista's eyes challenged him, "I agreed not to have sex with any member of the crew. Rek isn't crew. That makes him fair game."

"You could always go to Tessa. She'd be more than happy to oblige," Telrik argued.

"Tessa's a woman and I'm not into women even if they are suitably equipped," Kalista argued back, "That leaves me picking up the strays that come along."

Telrik chuckled, "Poor baby. We'll make port soon enough and you'll have your pick of freighter crewmen."

Kalista's eyes danced with delight, "Yum!"

She headed for the door, "Later, Telrik."

Telrik fished a padd out of his pocket and sat down in the chair in the corner of the room. He'd downloaded the FNS headlines and the local news of Tellar. It seemed the Andorians were rattling the saber and demanding the handover of some two dozen colony worlds. They were situated on the frontier between Andorian and Tellarite space.


While Andoria was a member of the Federation that territory had remained open and was managed by the Federation's Office of Colonial Affairs. Only now that the Andorian Empire had seceded from the Federation, they were laying claim to all of the frontier worlds around them. The Federation ambassador to Andoria explicitly stated that the Federation would defend those worlds and protect the Federation's sovereignty.

The problem was, Starfleet was too busy engaging the Typhon Pact at the mutual borders to worry about the Andorians' ambitions. To aggravate matters, the Andorians had several decommissioned Starfleet starships in their inventory while Tellar only had a civil defense force that guarded the core system. The Andorians knew that and were sallying into solar systems claimed by the Tellarites. They were provoking the Federation and everyone knew it. With Starfleet too busy to enforce the border, the Andorians felt free, and were free, to invade Federation space. It was only a matter of time before they finally asserted their claims.

Telrik had a thought. If Starfleet was too busy, what was to stop Tellar's government from hiring Outbound Ventures to enforce the peace? The Lug Nut was even commanded by a fellow Tellarite. If the Lug Nut were joined by the Spearhead, the Guinevere, the Dog Star, and the Copernicus what chance did the Andorians stand? Especially if he could talk Commander Macen into joining in. He could virtually guarantee that Captain Riker would be all for. Rhiann and Chris might take issue with the assignment but that was a bridge to be crossed when they'd actually arrived there.

Telrik activated the comm panel and asked for a connection to Tellar. The Pewtree had kindly offered the use of their subspace communication buoys...for a fee of course. Telrik had rarely been as happy as when he established a link with a bored looking communications officer. The argument between them was as obligatory as it was enjoyable. He was transferred to the offices of the Civil Defense Minister and only had to hold for two hours. Finally, he spoke to an attaché. He in turn immediately relayed the message to the minister and then Telrik was making his proposal to him personally.


"Ye gods, this place sucks," McMasters said as soon as they'd landed and exited the Corsair. There was a general murmur of consent. Even Daggit agreed. Macen held an impromptu conference.

"Yes, this place is a literal hellhole but we're here for the duration," he announced.

Groans met that response and he smiled, "Now for everyone's assignments. Rab, you and Hannah will scout the south side of the settlement. Jenrya, you and Eric will take the east. That means Lees and P'ris will take the west."

He turned to Celeste and wore a goofy grin, "I guess that means we'll go north."

"Oh, my heart goes pitter patter already," Celeste went into a mock swoon.

Macen shook his head but all concerned could see he was delighted, "Okay, post regular reports in 30 minute intervals. Rab, you'll start in 20 minutes. Jenrya, you'll take 30 on the dot, Lees, that gives you and P'ris 40 whole minutes to get into trouble before you need to check in."

"Like we need that long," Danan teased.

Macen acted pained, "Don't I know it."

Danan stuck her tongue out at him. It was totally a T'Kir thing. Seeing his wife's former rival mimicking her warmed Macen's heart, "Okay, keep a low profile or at least as low a profile as we can."

There was a general chuckle at that. There were only two Federation flagged freighters in orbit. That meant they were likely to stand out like a sore thumb. Of course there were also the Starfleet crews and the SOCOMM personnel but that was another story. But it just so happened that was the only story they were interested in.

The group split up and headed in their respective directions. Daggit and Grace scouted the southern portion of the enclave. Daggit drew stares from Pewtree and aliens alike. Instead of his standard uniform he wore a surplus khaki Starfleet Field Duty Uniform circa 2280-2340. Grace wore the standard uniform and was already wishing that she hadn't. The black body of the jumpsuit absorbed a lot of heat.

Grace only wore her utility belt/holster but Daggit wore a tactical vest, a similar belt, and had a grenade launcher holstered on his right leg while a Militia issue Bajoran phaser was on his left leg. A standard Militia issue rifle was strapped to his chest and he held its pistol grip with one hand while the other hand was kept free to grasp the fore grip of the phaser rifle if it was swung out and brought to bear.

Grace had her tricorder out and was casually, or as casually as someone with a hand scanner could, taking sensor readings of the surrounding areas. This seemed to draw the attention of the Enforcers stationed on the planet far more readily than the weapons they bore. The typical Pewtree was armed as well. Decades of enduring unexpected assaults from the Kalawnee had inured them into bearing arms when not busy at the mines.

The local constabulary was completely in bed with the Enforcers patrolling the streets. The pair made it six blocks before they were stopped. As earlier signs had indicated, it was the tricorder that garnered officialdom's attention. Grace folded the scanner and returned it to its pouch on her belt. The Pewtree were satisfied with that but the Enforcer patrol leader had a few questions.

"What ship are you from?" he asked. The SID teammates' universal translators handled the language conversion.

"The Obsidian," Daggit answered, "She's in orbit."

The sergeant checked a data slate, "She's a designated science ship is she not? What science is there to be found in an inhabited system?"

"Our ship is carrying an official from our parent company. He's here to negotiate a bulk purchase of dilithium," Daggit replied.

"Yet this requires you to come to the surface and parade about armed?" the sergeant inquired.

"The locals are armed. It seemed the prudent thing to do," Daggit answered.

The sergeant's cobalt blue eyes narrowed, "Yet he transported down to the surface by means of your matter/energy conversion methods and you traveled by means of a support craft. A support craft that is not usually carried by your class of ship. How can you explain this?"

"Our group is tasked with surveying the local environs to see how they would rate for shore leave facilities. Since we don't know how long that could take, or if local lodgings are available, we came in our runabout which can lodge up to 8 people at a time," Daggit supplied the cover story, "It also has medical facilities and food replicators in case the local facilities are incompatible with our varied species' biologies."

The sergeant asked them to wait a moment. After using a comm band to contact his superiors he came back, "All right, your story checked out. Have a pleasant stay and remain out of trouble."

Daggit and Grace began to move on when the sergeant stopped them, "Just out of curiosity, if others from your ship were approved for shore leave, would they also use the support craft for housing and transportation?"

"That's part of the runabout's mission," Daggit stretched the truth.

"I see," the sergeant seemed satisfied at long last, "Carry on."


All of the teams were stopped and questioned this way. The fact that their stories all matched did wonders for the Enforcers. Those in command of this world had been alerted about Macen and his teammates. The Enforcer ship crews in orbit were on a higher state of alert because of the Obsidian's presence. The SID team on the ground was being highly monitored and they knew it.

Danan called Macen moments after her last scheduled check-in, "Brin, we've found something."

"I'm locking in on your coordinates," Macen instructed. Part of the negotiations that he had with the Enforcer authorities allowed them to synch their comm badges with both a padd and the Corsair's computer. The Corsair in turn was tied into the Obsidian's computer and the surveyor was providing navsat style coverage.

The padds were acceptable to the Enforcers after it was demonstrated that they were similar to Iridian data slates. However, use of the Corsair's transporter was prohibited. Now that it had been established that the runabout was the "official" means of transporting traffic to and from the ship, the Obsidian's transporters were relegated to "official" use only. Essentially, only Riker and Nuble could use the transporter at this point.


The team expected such developments. The Enforcers wanted to corral them into as tight a sphere as possible. With the orbiting ship's transporter under watch, and the Obsidian itself under an unofficial siege, it was considered safer to limit the visitors to the runabout. The runabout could ostensibly be impounded, though they were all waiting to see the Enforcers go head to head with T'Kir's security protocols.

Macen looked to Rockford, who nodded her understanding. Consulting Macen's padd they traversed the enclave. They eventually reached Danan's location. She, P'ris, McMasters, and Radil were sitting under an awning drinking cold beverages. Macen looked at Rockford and they shared a moment of chagrin.

They approached the others. Rockford broke the silence, "Any recommendations on the local beverages?"

"The sun tea is fabulous," P'ris smiled widely.

"You wouldn't believe it but they have fruit flavored sparkling waters," Danan clued Macen into a favorite of his. She smirked, "They even have lemonade."

He grinned, "I'd say the Ferengi have been here."

"Good bet," Radil snorted.

"Any sign of Rab and Hannah?" Rockford asked.

"Not yet," Danan informed her, "But they were the last group that I contacted. Give them time."

"Indeed," P'ris urged, "Order a drink. The Elements know you could use one after spending the last hour under these suns."

Rockford flashed Macen a smile, "Lady has a point. What are you having?"

"I'll start with lemonade," Macen replied.

"You'll start?" she teased.

"Something tells me we're going to spending some time here," Macen revealed.

"Smart man," Danan replied, "We have a clear view of the local constabulary's cellblock from here."

Macen smile became a knowing one, "And you think that some of our lost little lambs are incarcerated in there."

"No, Commander," P'ris said gravely, "We know they're in there."

Macen looked to Rockford, "Celeste, why don't we get our drinks and then come back and find out what's going on."

"Who cares about drinks?" she retorted.

"We do, more importantly, you do," he stressed, "You were the one bringing up how nice it would be to get something to drink when Lees called."

Rockford let loose an exasperated sigh, "All right. But nothing had better happen in the meantime."

"The only thing that should happen is Rab and Hannah's arrival," he consoled her, "Besides; we'd probably wait for them anyway so that the information won't have to be endlessly repeated."

Rockford looked to Danan and the Trill smiled, "Like I said, smart man."

"Let's get our drinks, dear," Rockford urged, "The sooner we can sit down, the happier I'll be."

Macen gave her a warm smile, "And who was spoiling for a fight a minute ago?"

She rolled her eyes, "Oh, shut up already."


Chapter Fifteen

Grace and Daggit were grateful for the opportunity to grab a drink. Daggit went even further and tried the local cuisine. McMasters started salivating and darted off to acquire his own meal. Soon the entire team had local delicacies.

Macen and Rockford had chosen different variations on the same them. Their choices resembled pita bread sandwiches. Grace had gone along with the same thrust. Daggit had a mound of spiced, shaved meat. It came from a domestic animal roughly resembling a pig and Daggit said it basically tasted like pork...with a twist. McMasters had a rich brothy stew. The meat in it came from a game beast resembling an ox.

Radil went the vegetarian route as did P'ris although the latter basically had the local variant of broccoli and cheddar. Radil's soup was rather tomato-like and had cuts of various other veggies in all shape, colors, sizes, and flavors. Danan had been the one, to the proprietor's horror, to inquire into the availability of poultry.

She received a stern lecture on how the Pewtree didn't eat their evolutionary cousins. She'd angrily demanded to know if the Trill ate their fellow primates. Danan restrained herself from grinning at this since the Trill were evolved from an amphibian ancestor. While it was true that their antecedents had devolved many mammalian traits, the Trill still loved cool, moist places. It was why the vermiform symbiots were drawn to them in the first place. Danan had surrendered and accepted the house specialty. Which looked and smelled like beef and broccoli.

While they were eating, Danan and P'ris briefed them on how they'd seen a Starfleet SOCOMM officer escape the grasp of his captors and make it out to the street. Danan added the fact that it had been Stan Guthrie himself that had made the escape attempt.

The Enforcers inside the cell block had obviously called in reinforcements because two antigrav repulsorlift troop transports had responded and it was those additional reinforcements that captured Guthrie.

Macen asked which directions that the transports had arrived. Danan looked to P'ris and the Romulan filled in the blank, "They came from the south."

"Hannah and I saw those transports flyby overhead," Daggit added to the discussion, "From what I've gathered from the rest of and comparing it to what we found, there's a concentration of troops at the southern tip of the enclave. We tried to get a visual on them but we were turned back at every approach."

Macen tapped his comm badge and asked for Edwin Zimbalist. The Obsidian's OPS Chief quickly responded, "How can I help you, Commander?"

Macen smiled despite the other man not being able to see it. Zimbalist had been brought aboard after Macen and T'Kir's incarceration. He'd never known Macen as the CO of the ship so the perceived awkwardness of the current command structure didn't impede him or color his perceptions.

"I need a scan of the southern tip of the city we're in. I'll need the data transmitted to my padd," Macen explained.

Zimbalist didn't ask for the padd's ID marker because he'd been the one to remotely link the Obsidian's computer to the Corsair's and from there to the individual padds carried by the team members. He took a visual scan of the planet's surface, particularly of the area indicated. Enhancing the features to be found there, he prepped the upload and sent it along.

"I think you'll be very interested in that area," Zimbalist commented.

Macen eyed the padd and saw that it had received the data. Daggit and Radil were already conferring over its contents. P'ris and Danan were also joined at the hip while they perused the information. McMasters could care less while Grace was asking Rockford for her opinion.

McMasters stood amiably by while Macen swatted him upside the head. The engineer yelped, "Hey! What was that for?"

"At least pretend to take an interest in the information that could or could not mean the difference between life and death," Macen chided him.

McMasters muttered darkly under his breath and began reviewing the optical scans. Macen turned to Rockford and Grace. He wrapped his arms around Rockford and peered over her shoulder. She wore a bemused smirk.

"Well, just make yourself at home," she teased, "Are you comfortable? Can I get you a pillow?"

"I'm fine," Macen contentedly replied.

Rockford was still smirking as she held her padd out where both Macen and Grace could see it, "As you can see, the transports are just the beginning. They have a whole flight line out there."

"I make six shuttles and those others have got to be six fighters," Grace surmised.

"Don't be too hasty. They could be rapid response craft," Rockford suggested.

"Oh, they are rapid response craft all right. Those things are fighter craft. I'd bet my professional reputation on it," Grace insisted.

Rockford leaned her head back and turned her face into Macen's, "They're fighters."

Macen kissed her and she broke into a pleased smile, "Those pillboxes have to be prefab bunkers. My guess is that they're barracks."

"They have to have a command, control, and communications center nearby," Rockford ventured.

"Why?" Grace asked innocently enough.

Rockford groaned and Macen chuckled, "Go easy on her."

"Why?" the detective wondered.

Macen bit her lower ear lobe and she broke into a naughty grin, "Don't start anything you don't have time to finish."

"Just explain to our young friend here why they have to have a C3 center nearby," Macen urged.

"Spoilsport," Rockford retorted.

"Celeste," now he chided her.

"Oh, okay," she pouted.

She lowered her head and turned to Grace, "This enclave is the population center for the planetary mining efforts. Literally everyone lives here. That means the bulk of the Enforcer troops are stationed her as well. This is a sizeable habitation and if you're going to effectively patrol it you need a communications hub. And that hub needs to be protected. So why not dump it into the middle of the area with the most Enforcers around?"

"Okay, I get it," Grace ruefully conceded. She then tilted her head slightly to one side, "How do you know this stuff? I thought 'Celeste Rockford' wasn't a soldier."

It was Rockford's turn to wear a rueful smile, "Annika was the soldier but then along came the Argyn. All of the various personalities that were born from her essentially committed suicide so I could live and left me with their memories. The personalities that were born to infiltrate Tarsusian camps were far more brutal and lethal then even Annika ever imagined she'd ever be."

"You have their memories?" Rockford nodded to Grace's question so she asked the question Rockford was so afraid of she'd only dared share it with one other person, "What about their personalities? You said they 'died' but do you carry any lingering remnants?"

"No," Macen said authoritatively.

Grace eyed him. There was a challenge in her eyes, "How can you be so certain? You're an empath and a low level one at that. How can you be certain of what's in her head?"

"Because I know her almost as intimately as I knew T'Kir," Macen cautiously replied.

"How?" Grace wanted to know.

Macen hesitated and Rockford took over, "El-Aurians can share an experience called an 'empathic cascade'. It opens up both parties to the other ones feelings. Nothing is hidden or can be hidden and when your partner absorbs it, it gets regurgitated back at you with their own feelings. This builds and builds until you physically can't take any more. Your mind explodes and you just bliss out."

"Why didn't you just say so?" Grace demanded as she stared down Macen.

"Because he's a bit of a prude," Rockford joked, "This only happens during sex."

Grace was brought up short by that, "If this is so good and it builds such intensity, what's it do for an orgasm?"

"Mind blowing isn't descriptive enough," Rockford shared, "Think of the best orgasm you've ever had and then imagine it reflected back to you a thousand times added to your partner's orgasm and it being amplified a thousand times."

"But how do you arrange to have orgasms at the same time?" Grace was still dissecting it.

"Once one starts, they other gets swept up by the wave. You can't help it," Rockford divulged.

Grace pondered it for a minute, "No wonder T'Kir was always horny."

"T'Kir was always horny before I met her because her telepathy did the same thing," Macen commented.

"How come Lees has never said anything?" Grace wondered.

"It doesn't work on Joined Trills," Macen revealed, "The symbiot's connection to the host runs interference."

Grace thought about it some more, "Sounds addictive."

"You have nooo idea," Rockford sighed, "And when you add the sonic vibrations from a shower..."

Grace's imagination picked up where the Angosian left off. She wore a big grin, "I bet."

"Okay, I think it's time we gathered and conferred," Macen said as he withdrew and went to the closest pair, which happened to be Danan and P'ris.

Rockford gave Grace a knowing smirk, "Aww, we embarrassed him."

Grace grinned back, "You should see what I do to Ian."

Rockford was glad to see Grace mentioning her newly acquired husband in a moment of levity. Delaney's absence had been wearing on the younger woman. She was rebounding though so her coping mechanisms were being established. They'd known they were for a tough go with Delaney in Starfleet and assigned to the USS Intrepid and Grace still with Outbound Ventures and serving with the SID aboard the Obsidian. She had a standing invitation to rejoining Starfleet at the rank of Lt. Commander but so far she'd declined. Rockford suddenly asked her why.

Grace shrugged, "If I was with Starfleet I still wouldn't be stationed with Ian. If I'm going to be away from him I want to be with my family."

Rockford knew exactly how she felt. Grace was an exile from the Kelvan colonists just as Rockford was an outcast from Angosia. Although, Grace's parents still loved her and missed her. They just viewed her as a threat to their way of life.

Rockford's status as an Augment made her a reject and a threat to the harmony on Angosia. She herself had no parents but she supposed she'd inherited Ryst's. If they met her now, they wouldn't know her at all. She'd be a literal stranger to them despite their being the birth parents to her physical form. She retained all of Ryst's memories of them but they meant nothing to Rockford. The only memory that Ryst had of them that mattered to Rockford was when they'd called the authorities to have their daughter dragged off and incarcerated.

They both viewed the SID team, and in extension the crew of the Obsidian as family. Daggit was everyone's older brother and Parva was the innocent sister-in-law. Danan was the matriarch, and by extension, Riker was in a high place. But not as high as Macen. He truly was the patriarch of them team. It was only fitting that Macen and Danan had begun the team as a couple.

McMasters was the reform school escapee. Radil was the protective one who felt as strongly about her ersatz family as the adoptees. Through them, Forger and Kort came into play. Forger was the reformed offender made good while Kort fiercely cared for every member of the team, with the possible exception of McMasters, but he would no longer participate in their mad cap adventures.

Tessa was the oddball. Restricted to the ship, she lived vicariously through the actions of the others. Barring Riker's restrictions she'd also taken over T'Kir's role as the team nympho. Galen 3 had quickly tired of the novelty of an intersexed girlfriend so he'd "deleted" her "package". She pouted for a while over that. She enjoyed being a "top" but Galen 3 figured she'd taken to the role with a little too much relish and his masculinity was threatened so the offending penis had to go!

Rockford's ruminations on that topic ended and shifted back to business as the group gathered. As would be expected P'ris, Daggit, and Radil all spotted the same layout that Rockford had. Grace, Danan, and McMasters sat out while the others conferred and nailed down their likeliest candidate for the C3 center. McMasters asked to see their choice.

"No stinkin'; way," he pooh pahhed their collective choice, "The power node is all wrong. It can't take the theoretical load. This is your best bet."

They all looked at their padds and McMasters grinned, "It's relatively isolated from the guard stations. That's just smoke and mirrors. It even sits in the ideal spot for receiving and coordinating transmissions. Added to that, it has clear lines of sight for optical sensors in addition to active EM band scanners."

Macen looked to McMasters, "You're sure?"

"You bet your bippy," McMasters wore an insufferable grin.

P'ris wanted to smack the smile off of his face. Radil was irked that he'd been the one to spot it. Daggit and Rockford were keeping their counsel to themselves. Danan was decidedly bemused and barely containing her mirth. That just seemed to egg P'ris and Radil on. Grace was the only one staring in mute surprise.

The problem lay in the group's relationship with McMasters. He and Rockford had worked closely with him during the field op on Felkor. His engineering skills had been invaluable on Corvat. Grace knew of his skill and dedication from the time they'd spent together rebuilding the Corsair. Danan knew him in all of those ways and a few more intimate ones as well. There was a reason he'd obsessed about her until he'd met Shannon Forger.

Daggit recognized McMasters' talents and he'd demonstrated his skills to Parva. He'd also treated Parva with the utmost respect which earned him acceptance in Daggit's book. Radil just found him to be a constant pain in the ass and she simply didn't like him.

P'ris just didn't know him. Then again, expect for Macen and Danan, she didn't know any of them. And her primary concern had always been with Macen. Her relationship with Danan was completely secondary to that. The rest of them barely rated above "bug". She respected Rockford and had come to view her as an ally if not a friend. She feared Grace and kept her demeanor purely professional towards her.

"Eric, can you set up an interference grid at this location?" Macen asked.

"What kind of interference grid?" McMasters asked in a dubious tone.

"Something that'll knock the Enforcer transports out of the air?" Macen wondered.

"All I brought was parts to build a subspace beacon in case we needed transport enhancers," McMasters explained, "And if you're thinking of an EMP discharge I can guarantee that those suckers will be shielded."

"What about a subspace pulse?" Macen asked, "The Argyn knocked out the Endeavor's systems with a subspace comm pulse. You studied the Endeavor's logs. You should be able to duplicate the effect on a smaller scale."

"I don't know if I can generate a strong enough pulse with what I've got," McMaster's admitted.

"Then use the Corsair's replicator to get what you need. Radil's phaser cannon is stored in the armory with its power cells. They should provide the power you need," Macen suggested.

"Yeah, yeah," McMasters looked like a feverish Ferengi. He turned to Grace, "I'll need some hands."

"I'll go as well," Danan volunteered.

"I thought you were keeping your distance from me?" McMasters suddenly commented.

"That was before Shannon," Danan laughed, "You're safe to be around now. You're veritably whipped now."

He grinned, "I notice the normal expression doesn't apply."

"Go figure," she teased.

"Just go," Macen ordered with an air of defeat.

"Spoilsport," Danan retorted, "It's a wonder you and Celeste have any fun whatsoever."

"But we do," Rockford's smile had a feline quality about it. It was as though she had the mouse cornered and knew could capture it at any time she pleased.

Danan recognized the look. Both she and previous hosts had enjoyed it as well, Danan had to reconsider the source. At one time she'd thought that the only woman that could replace her was T'Kir. The idea of anyone stepping into T'Kir's shoes had been unthinkable.

Rockford had slipped into that revered position, not because she forced her way into it, but because Macen had freely offered it of his own volition. Rockford had actually gone out of her way to avoid any pretense of seeking a romantic relationship with Macen. Macen had pursued her.

That was a stark contrast with his experience with T'Kir. T'Kir had done all of the chasing and Macen had eventually surrendered. Danan suddenly wondered how much of that surrender was the result of mutual desire and how much of it was simply the lack of competition. Even after her romance with Macen had ended while in the Maquis, he'd still kept T'Kir at a distance. It wasn't until she'd stepped aside that he'd "fallen" for T'Kir.

Danan knew that Macen loved T'Kir and she was consumed with him. But what would have happened if she hadn't left the fledgling SID team and joined the Daystrom Institute? Not that it did her much good anyway. Danan still ended up rejoining the SID.

Of course, doing so had brought her to her husband. She and Riker had slowly drifted together and then at the end it was like a massive collision. Instead of marrying him she'd very nearly quit the team a second time and never spoken to him again! But she'd forgiven him once he'd admitted he was wrong for being a pigheaded jackass. Their marriage had begun with a lot of bumps. Macen and T'Kir were in jail and Riker had assumed command of the Obsidian, not as her XO as he'd done previously, but as her Captain.

The first hurdle to cross was Rockford. Unexpectedly thrust into command of the SID team, the detective had barely treaded water. She was the newest member to the team and she was missing 4 members of her unit with no replacements in sight, as per Riker's orders. Next came Riker's veto on team assignments, which he frequently invoked. Rockford had only agreed to his having override authority due to his experience but she was soon beating her head against the bulkhead.

She held the team together by her fingernails while Admiral Forger sidelined the unit. She'd lost confidence in Riker and doubted the viability of her once prestigious SID operations team. Macen's return had heralded a return to greatness for the team but that was quickly sidelined by T'Kir's death.

Macen was put on suspension even faster than he'd been put in prison. The SID accepted purely civilian contracts for a year before being reinstated to active duty. Now, as before, they balanced their time between Starfleet and civilian contracts. They were usually knee deep in some form of trouble.

The collaboration between Macen and his newly instated Deputy Commander was a new era for the team. Rockford's evolution as a leader had grown by leaps and bounds by her reintegration with Annika Ryst and the other personas' memories. The team members had quietly discussed matters and found the new arrangement to be quite a potent combination. Rockford didn't suffer from the mental illness that drove much of T'Kir's personality. That in turn affected mission plans and leadership.

All these factors and more weighed in on how the team would react to this latest crisis. McMasters wasn't trying to ingratiate himself. Neither was P'ris. And Grace was obviously distracted. Until she could learn to cope with the absence of her newlywed husband, she wasn't entirely reliable. Danan was and wasn't helping. Having served as Macen's XO for 3 years in the Maquis and during the team's first mission, she tended to step into that role which, of course, stepped all over Rockford's toes.

Rockford was handling it well. She hadn't squished Danan like a bug nor would she. But Danan's sudden volunteering to assist McMasters and Grace had prevented Rockford from having a quiet word with the Trill scientist. That word would have gone a long way towards establishing dominance. As it was, she'd redirect P'ris, who was starting to waver on who really deserved the authority.

The plain truth of the matter was P'ris felt she deserved the role. She'd been a senior Commander in the Tal Shiar after all. Being a grunt was hard on her.

Macen gathered his little lambs and they began to plan.


Chapter Sixteen

McMasters had engineered a subspace pulse emitter. Danan had been valuable to him while Grace had merely been a tool pusher. McMasters utilized Grace's above human norms strength to help carry the emitter back to where P'ris waited.

Consulting with Daggit, Macen had set a point for the dimensional ambush. P'ris was placed in charge of the sub-unit. Since the Enforcers would still presumably be alive after their transports crashed, they needed to neutralize them. If Danan was upset about being upstaged by their newest member, she hid it well. So well, in fact, Macen's "Listening" skills didn't detect a single sour note.

McMasters and Grace seemed on the edge of protesting but they took their leads from Danan, who had seniority over the both of them. While Danan's brief absence meant that Grace, who had been with the SID team from its inception but had also been at cross purposes with the team for much of its early career, submitted to Danan's authority. She knew very well that Danan had been with Macen during his infiltration into the Maquis and had served as his XO back then. Danan had been among the first to encounter P'ris therefore if she was willing to take her lead from the Romulan it was no skin off of Grace's nose.


In orbit, Riker moved over to the Science station that Galen 3 manned. Riker respected Galen 3's scientific acumen but he thought the native of Eminiar VII was a tad strange. Reprogramming Tessa's physical being into being intersexed just struck Riker as being odd. Of course, dallying with a hologram, even one as realistic as Tessa, also struck him as odd. After all, who wanted a girlfriend you could simply turn off when a fight broke out?

Of course, T'Kir had disabled that function and only Tessa could deactivate Tessa but could she only reactivate herself? That was important to know. What if Tessa had a grudge against a fellow crewmate and decided to simply not "appear" when called upon?

Tessa's behavior had grown increasingly erratic over the years and people like his wife and T'Kir had encouraged it. Danan explained that it was the natural course of development. At first Tessa had been all awe and wonder. Then she was assertive and willful. Next she was exploratory. Riker mentally grimaced at that one. She'd certainly explored sex. He'd never had to order someone not to have sex.

Danan had been no help as she recounted how she'd been forced to deal with T'Kir's cavorting during the mission that resulted in the formation of the SID. Danan knew that T'Kir had shared many stories from her "well travelled" past and that Tessa looked to T'Kir as a personal hero. That hero worship had yielded a clone of T'Kir in which to place her katra. What had been totally unanticipated was that T'Kir didn't want to return to her old life. No one from her past could see her as a kohlinar master but then again, the Vulcan's life had always been one surprise after another.

Riker tamped down his misgivings regarding Galen 3 and asked his question, "Have you been able to detect life signs on any of those Federation starships yet?"

"We can't run an active scan without alerting the Enforcers to our intentions and activities," Galen 3 saw Riker's disappointment and softened the blow, "However, Edwin has been able to patch me into their internal sensors."

"You're tied into the ships' sensors?" Riker was incredulous.

"Yessir," Galen 3 said very enthusiastically, "We're on a tactical subspace band. It's only used for secure conferencing and is encrypted. Jaycee provided the encryption keys so we could tap into the Tactical systems. Edwin navigated the computer so we could use their OPS grid and run internal scans."

Riker looked around and said in a loud voice, "It seems I need to commend my entire senior staff."

Forger just grinned back at him with a knowing grin. Miller and Zimbalist were well pleased with themselves. Rhiann and Chris were at a loss and Galen 3 just seemed eager to please.

"So what's the status aboard those ships?" Riker finally asked.

"It's pretty uniform. There's Iridian life signs scattered across the ships. Only a half dozen per deck but that means there's still six of them on each bridge. Each ship has two lifeforms in the brig. Species vary but they're consistent with Federation races," Galen 3 reported.

"Just two per ship?" Riker asked.

Galen 3 nodded, "Do you have any idea why?"

"It's probably the Captain and 1st Officer of each ship," Riker offered a theory, "A lot of militaries stress capturing the commanders and holding them hostage to insure the cooperation of the crew."

Galen 3 frowned, "I see."

"Keep monitoring the situation and let me know if anything changes," Riker ordered.

He moved to Zimbalist, "Can you contact your opposite number aboard any of the ships?"

"That would be more up Jaycee's alley. I believe she's recruited Commander Forger into helping her," Zimbalist ruefully admitted.

Riker looked nonplussed. He approached the Tactical station and found Forger and Miller conferring over that very problem. He cleared his throat to get their attention.

"Do you mind apprising your captain before you potentially start a shooting match?" he asked.

"We aren't doing anything," Forger innocently insisted.

"Bull. I know what you're up to and I approve. We need to let those crews know that help is on the way," Riker asserted.

"You think there's going to be trouble?" Forger asked.

"Brin had Edwin scan a dirtside base. I can only think of one reason for that," Riker explained.

"Good," Forger asserted, "These people seriously need to get their asses kicked."

Riker gave her a pained look, "We're here to rescue people, not start a war."

"They're going to start one anyway," Forger predicted.

"No argument there," Riker conceded.

"If I can get through, what do you want me to tell them?" Miller wondered.

"Just tell them to stand by. We'll be sending over details shortly," Riker ordered.

"You're expecting Macen to call," Forger surmised.

"If he's going to be successful he's going to need our support so he'll have to transmit his requirements," Riker explained.

"That's if he needs our help," Forger countered.

Riker broke in to a wry grin, "You don't think he'll need our help?"

"I didn't say that. I just asked what if he doesn't call?" Forger argued.

Miller's board sounded and she checked the read out, "It's Commander Macen. The signal has a visual feed. Do you want it on the main viewer?"

"Of course," Riker moved to a spot in front of his seat.

"Tom? Are you ready to move on a moment's notice?" Macen inquired. His image was being displayed from the OPS station in the Corsair. Beside him, at the CONN, sat Rockford. Banging and cursing could be heard in the background. The initial yelling sounded like it came from McMasters and the subsequent rebuttal from Grace.

"That all depends on what the plan is," Riker hedged.

Macen shared his plan. Riker was surprised, "That's awfully ambitious. Even if you succeed on the ground, how long will it be before we take fire up here?"

"Eric is sending schematics for a large scale subspace pulse disruptor. Have Parva hook one up to the auxiliary deflector and use that to knock out the Enforcer ships," Macen instructed, "It's a smaller scale than the Argyn wave burst but it should still get the job done for at least 20 minutes if their tech is comparable to ours."

"That's a big if," Riker complained.

"One other thing, send a subspace comm message to Sector 411-G," Macen ordered.

"What'll be in the message?" Riker inquired, sensing that Macen had a hidden card to play yet.

"The ship's ID plus the word 'now'," Macen revealed.

"That's it?" Riker was surprised.

"That's all that's needed," Macen informed him, "You have 20 minutes to get ready. Comm me when you're ready."

"We're on it," Riker abruptly stood, "Riker out."

The Captain turned to Forger, "Head to Engineering and see that Parva is up to speed. Then head over to the Security Office and have Gerrit break out the armory. We're going to have a few dozen unarmed SOCOMM operatives aboard and they'll want to retake their host vessels."

"Anyone ever tell you you're sexy when you're bossy?" Forger grinned.

Riker turned red and she laughed, "God, you are so easy. I'll rustle up the children and call you when preparation is underway. Where will you be?"

"I'll be plotting an attack vector with Rhiann after I confer with Telrik. Someone has to tell him he's about to be very busy," Riker shared, greatly relieved that his XO's flirtation had only been a joke.

They got to work. They only had 18 minutes left and then Macen's team would undoubtedly unleash hell on Atrocitus. The team was depending upon the crew of the Obsidian and the crew had never let the team down and this damn sure wouldn't be the first time.


Grace lugged the pulse weapon to the spot Daggit had worked out for it. Several ground vehicles sat next to buildings and provided cover from the air and where the transports would presumably crash. Grace cursed out McMasters as he had her move it several times.

Macen conferred with P'ris when Danan suddenly interjected, "I hate to interrupt..."

"Then don't," Macen riposted.

"It just seems to me, we've never learned P'ris' first name. You've always been too polite to ask but we may all die here in a moment. I'd like to know my teammates name," Danan insisted.

All eyes turned to P'ris and her cheeks turned a creamy shade of jade, "Talera, my given name is Talera."

Danan beamed, "Was that so hard?"

P'ris studied Macen and then Rockford, "Neither of you seem very surprised by this."

"Brin had already shared your name with me," Rockford confessed, "I figured you'd share when you felt comfortable to do so."

"And you?" P'ris turned to Macen, "How long have you known?"

"T'Kir told me when we joined you on the fabled joint mission between the Tal Shiar and Starfleet Intelligence," Macen revealed.

P'ris wore a perturbed expression, "Her and her wretched telepathy."

"It did come in handy on occasion, as you should recall," Macen sagely pointed out.

"I would not speak ill of the dead but since she is alive, I can call her a cur," P'ris retorted.

Macen scowled, "I wouldn't go there."

"I see," P'ris commented, "You are still loyal even though she has left you. Admirable, truly admirable."

"But?" Macen prompted.

P'ris was startled, "There is no but, Commander. In my culture such loyalties are sworn forever, even if there is a dissolution of the marriage. I admire your commitment, as should Detective Rockford, for your commitment to her can be no less."

Rockford grinned at Macen. The El-Aurian was mollified so he went over the plan with them all one last time and then he and Rockford rejoined Daggit and Radil. As they approached, Riker commed Macen.

"We're ready," Riker informed him.

"Implement the plan and tell me when the Enforcer ships are neutralized," Macen urged the Obsidian's captain.

"Will do," Riker signed off.

"All right, Rab. I hope you have a game plan," Macen said wishfully.

Daggit wore a slight grin, "I think you'll even like it."


"All right, Rhiann, put us into position," Riker ordered.

The zhen used the thrusters to aim maneuver the surveyor so that the leading edge of her saucer section aimed at the Enforcer heavy cruiser. Zimbalist was operating the modified auxiliary deflector located in the saucer section rather than the main deflector in the secondary hull. He announced to Rhiann that her positioning was perfect. She puffed up as if to say, "Of course."

"Subspace generator is charging. Target locked," Zimbalist recited.

"Fire at will," Riker ordered.

Forger leaned in, "Now why would he want to shoot at your brother?"

"Very droll, Shannon," Riker retorted.

"Firing!" Zimbalist was excited as he announced the disruptor's release, "The array is now recharging."

"Galen 3, what is the cruiser's status?" Riker asked as he rose from his seat and came towards the Science station.

"Massive power failures and systems overloads," Galen 3 said as he actively scanned the cruiser. He looked towards Riker, "The two frigates are maneuvering. They've detected our scans."

"Did they detect the subspace pulse?" Riker asked.

"Presumably but they probably don't know where it originated from yet," Galen 3 shared, "I wouldn't expect them to remain ignorant for long."

"But their shields are still down?" Riker asked.

"Yes, but their defensive shields activated around their bridge module," Galen 3 reported.

Riker considered that. He had a perverse respect for the Enforcer designs. The heavy looked like an SR-71 from Earth's past, replete with integrated warps nacelles built into the rear wings, much like a Ju'day-class Maquis raider. The frigates looked like hammerhead sharks with warp nacelles slung under the body. The bridge modules were rather like their Federation counterparts, being constructed as bubbles nestled into the bodies. The frigates' modules blistered the shark head. The heavy cruiser's module lay where the cockpit of the aircraft would have been.

The oncoming frigate began issuing changes. Riker ignored them. He turned to Zimbalist, "How long before you can fire again?"

"15 seconds," came the grim reply.

"They've raised shields and their weapons are going hot," Miller reported.

"Damn," Riker groused, "Prepare to raise shields and arm weapons."

"Captain, the subspace pulse will penetrate their shields," Galen 3 shared, "Just like a subspace comm signal."

"Stand by on defense systems," Riker ordered, "Edwin?"

"Ready!" Zimbalist cried.

"Then fire already!" Riker demanded.

The pulse went out and Miller began reporting, "Their shields have gone down. Weapons are off line. In fact most of their power grid has overloaded."

"Raise shields and arm phasers!" Riker ordered, "Rhiann, break orbit and make for that last frigate."

"Do we really want to come in hostile?" Zimbalist asked.

"The element of surprise is long gone," Riker said as he headed back to his seat, "They know we're responsible for their comrades' calamities. They're going to be pissed and trigger happy. Just call out when the pulse generator is on-line. We'll need to know so we can line up a shot."

"Sir, there's a problem with the generator. She's running over redline. We may only get one more shot out of it," Zimbalist reported.

"Alert Parva," Riker instructed, "We'll just have to make certain our next effort is worth it."


Ten minutes later, the last pulse had crippled the final frigate. Zimbalist sourly checked his readings, "Cascade failure on the generator. She's burned herself out."

"What's Engineering have to say about that?" Riker asked.

"Parva said its innards have melted into goo," Zimbalist was loathe to say.

"Fine, at least we neutralized our targets," Riker said gratefully.

"Captain, the last frigate got a data squirt out," Forger informed him.

"So they got an SOS out?" Riker surmised.

"Probably," she concurred.

"Maybe we'll be done by the time they arrive," Riker suggested.

Forger gave him a sour look and he sighed, "I know. It'll never happen."

"He turned to Rhiann, "Take us into position."

Turning to Forger, he said; "Signal Telrik and have him get ready to get busy."

He tapped his comm panel, "Riker to Macen."


Chapter Seventeen

Macen took the comm message from Riker and then whirled his finger in the air and pointed at the constabulary cell house. They started for it. Daggit and Radil had their phaser rifles pulled into their shoulders. Macen and Rockford used two handed grips on their pistols.

A Pewtree constable came outside and Daggit stunned him. Three more exited the building, all shooting. Daggit and Radil cut them down with stun blasts. Stepping over the bodies, they kicked the Pewtrees' weapons away from them. Daggit kept his rifle trained on the door while Radil tapped the access panel. Nothing happened.

She tried the manual release. Nothing. She flashed a grim smile Daggit's way.

"It seems they locked the door," she said nonchalantly.

"Blow it," Daggit instructed.

Radil released her rifle. It was strapped to her chest and hung down with the barrel aimed at the ground. She removed a photon charge from her utility belt and affixed it to the door.

She moved back to the side of the door frames and hugged the wall while she readied her rifle, "Five seconds, people!"

They all ran a silent countdown in their heads and the charge went off on time. It blew the doors out of their sliding tracks and having the charges set on the juncture where they met and they blew inward. Bent and twisted, the doors formed a barrier between the interior guards and the gunmen entering the building.

Daggit recoiled as particle beams lashed out and largely struck the wrenched door. Daggit leaned out, avoiding the superheated edges of the door, and snapped off a few shots. A flurry of return fire came back at him.

He turned to Radil, "Get ready to toss some flash-bangs," he ordered.

She smirked, "What would you do without me?"

"I'd have Macen throw the damn flash-bangs," he grunted.

"Oh, please. You haven't been able to operate on your own since you kidnapped me," she chuckled.

"Just throw the wretched explosives," Daggit growled.

She pulled two metal balls out of her belt and held one in each hand. She thumbed the release and said, "Ready."

"Now!" Daggit urged as he spun around the edge and began snapping off shots. He stepped out into the foyer and Radil was between him and the door. She threw her bombs and retreated. Daggit followed her lead.

Essentially small cluster munitions, the balls released small "sprinkle" bombs as they rolled towards the enemy. After a few seconds, the sprinklets began to detonate. They flashed bright light or produced loud noises. Essentially, they were a distraction device.

Daggit and Radil moved out and began picking off the startled Pewtree constables. One of them clipped Radil's arm and she gritted her teeth in order to ignore the pain. The last avian went down and Daggit surged forward. Macen was on his heels. Rockford tended to Radil's arm.

Daggit tried the cell block door. He grunted when it didn't open, "Of course."

"Locked?" Macen inquired.

"Like I said, 'of course'," Daggit grimaced.

"They've undoubtedly called for reinforcements," Macen reminded him.

"You don't think the ambush team can bring down the aerial units?" Daggit was surprised.

"I think they can," Macen clarified, "I'm just more worried about the foot patrols. When they all converge on this location, we're all going to be overwhelmed."

Daggit gave him a speak for yourself look but he said, "I'll get the door open."

"I know you will," Macen said honestly and with great confidence, "Let me know when you're ready. Right now I'm going to check on Jenrya."

Daggit didn't say a word as Macen made to depart but before he got out of earshot Daggit called to him, "Is she all right?"

"Just looked like a flesh wound. I'll let you know more in a minute," Macen assured him.

Daggit went to work.


Two transports approached from the air. They looked like marine craft with gull wings. Slung under each wing and hugged up to the body was a small warp nacelle. That proved what had been assumed. The transports were also extraterrestrial craft capable of navigating in space. The warp nacelles, as small as those on a Starfleet Type-6 shuttle could probably do no better than Warp 2 and even then for only 12 hour stretches before dropping back to Warp 1. So even though they had an extended range for a transport, they were still essentially short range craft.

"Steady," P'ris whispered despite the transports' passengers' inability to hear her. The craft were now overhead and P'ris cried, "Now!"

They pulse generator was a directional device. Its field emitter was aimed straight up towards the sky. There was no visible discharge and the craft continued on their way.

"Well?" Grace impatiently demanded.

"Wait for it," McMasters growled.

Suddenly the transports' antigrav repulsors quit and the transports nosedived into the street below. The few pedestrians out and about scattered and were unharmed by this event. P'ris started forward. Using the parked vehicles as cover, she repositioned herself near the downed spacecraft. The others followed her.

P'ris and Danan had their rifles at the ready. McMasters unslung his rifle and brought it to bear. Grace eschewed a rifle and instead relied upon her pistol.

"Be ready," P'ris advised, "They shall blow the hatches any moment now."

On cue, several hatches blew off of the transports and Iridian Enforcers began to emerge. P'ris waited until several of them were out and about before she unleashed her rifle's fury. The other SID members also fired a volley of particle beam destruction. The entire first wave of Enforcers went down.

"Now it gets difficult," P'ris warned.

Those attempting to exit the transports laid down a barrage of cover fire so their companions could withdraw. They in turn were supported by Enforcers taking up positions and laying down suppressive fire to cover their retreat.

The second transport had landed out in front of the first. It finally blew its hatches. P'ris and McMasters savaged their first rank and the pattern repeated itself.

"Aargh!" Radil bit down as she tried not to cry out.

Rockford had cut away her upper sleeve so that the phaser burn was exposed. The Bajoran was lucky the Pewtree used phasers rather than disruptors which really mangled flesh. Rockford was repentant but only so much.

"Y'know, this is supposed to be your job," she reminded Radil that the former mercenary was the field medic.

"Don't remind me," Radil grumped.

"Look, it's repairable but the cellular regenerator will probably leave a scar behind. That's the problem with having a novice wield it," Rockford warned.

"Just do it," Radil said grimly and then she chuckled, "Besides, Kort will think it's sexy. He really grooves to scars."

"Must be why you have so many," Rockford muttered, recalling seeing Radil's naked form in the ship's gym shower room on occasion.

Radil said nothing and just grinned. Most of her scars were from her years with the Bajoran Resistance and later as a merc. Her husband, despite being quite capable of erasing all of the marks, found them erotic. So, a new one would just add to the general flavor.

Macen caught her expression as he approached, "Thinking of how Kort's going to react to that arm?"

Radil was far beyond blushing, "Of course."

"I'm just glad station operations added an extra layer of soundproofing to your rooms. I remember the old days and all the noise you two made," Macen commented.

"Why, Commander, I'm shocked," she teased, "You listened in?"

"T'Kir listened in," Macen grinned back, "She said it 'gave her ideas'."

"Did it?" Radil played along.

"More than you want to know about," Macen admitted.

"Okay, you're done," Rockford announced as she put the regenerator back into the med kit and slid said kit back into Radil's backpack.

Radil flexed her arm, "Seems good. Thanks."

"Don't thank me just be grateful it wasn't a complicated repair," Rockford demurred.

Radil slid on her pack and grabbed her rifle, "Rab's probably still pacing in front of that damn door trying to figure out how many explosives to use."

As the Bajoran disappeared Macen grinned at Rockford, "Ah, kids these days."


"Hannah Grace, now is the time," P'ris urged.

"Are you sure?" Grace wondered.

"I would not have said so if I were not certain," the Romulan countered. She noted a certain reluctance in the Kelvan which wasn't normally there, "Are you certain you can accomplish this task?

"I've never tried anything on this scale," Grace finally admitted.

"That would have been nice to know before we were depending on you for our very lives," P'ris dryly remarked.

"Yeah, but..." Grace squirmed.

"Hannah Grace! The enemy has us pinned down and is approaching. We cannot stop them. Only you can," P'ris admonished her.

"Okay," Grace hedged, "here goes."

She holstered her phaser as she slunk below the vehicle's protective shroud. She held her hands before her as though she were weaving. Her fingers were spread far and wide. Green energy began to lance out between fingers and soon a veritable loom was created. As she did so, green halos of energy enveloped the Iridians' heads.

They choked and slowly, inexorably collapsed. The energy lasted until they'd breathed their last. Danan wheeled on her.

"No one said anything about killing!" she accused.

Grace shrugged as she stood, "True."

"Stand down, Lisea Danan. She may not have had my authority but she has my blessing," P'ris informed her.

Danan glared at P'ris, "You've displayed a tendency for the ruthless in the past, Commander. I had a false hope that you were past that tendency."

"And would you have the enemy arise and threaten us again?" P'ris asked in acerbic manner, "Or what about our comrades?"

Danan was stymied and she knew it but she was still petulant, "Fine."

"Hannah Grace, I hate to be a bother but can you transport Lisea Danan and I to the cell house as well as transporting you and Engineer McMasters to the Corsair?" P'ris asked in a reasonable tone.

"Sure, why not?" Grace replied with gallows humor, "And by the way, I'm just Hannah or even just Grace if that's too uncomfortable for you."

"Very well, Grace," P'ris allowed, "Can you do it?"

"Why the hell not?" Grace waved her hand at Danan and P'ris and they disappeared in an exploding ball of green energy.

"You're gonna do that to us?" McMasters yelped and then he jumped when he realized that he was already aboard the Corsair.

"Sorry 'bout that," Grace smirked, "It seemed prudent to whisk us away before you had time to change your mind."

"Helluva thing," McMasters muttered as Grace headed for the cockpit. She sat down at the CONN station and noted Enforcers gathering outside the diminutive ship, "Eric! Haul your ass up here. I need shields and phasers."

McMasters scooted ion in and plopped down at OPS. He brought the power from "stand-by" to "Nominal". The Enforcers had men with scanners watching the runabout and they signaled the officers in charge. The Enforcers opened fire with their polaron pulse rifles.

"Hold on to something," Grace warned, "I'm not sure how much the inertial damper will take."

"What?" McMasters yelped and then he groaned and compressed into his seat as the Corsair catapulted straight up. Once Grace had reached a height of one kilometer, she engaged the impulse engines and started an ascent. She intended to break orbit and reunite with the Obsidian.


A green ball of energy exploded on the doorstep of the detention center. The advancing Enforcers stopped and stared. Danan and P'ris quickly gathered their wits and ran inside. Danan and Rockford took up position and stunned the closest troopers. P'ris conferred with Macen.

"That was certainly a novel means of travel," she opined.

"Grace's methods are certainly unique," Macen agreed and then he asked for a situation report. She filled him. He nodded.

"Understood," he said, "Relieve Celeste at the door and have her report to me."

P'ris disappeared and Rockford reported. She snapped off a crisp salute while standing at attention. He was decidedly unamused.

"Spare me," he quipped.

"You start issuing orders like you expect it and it's what you get," Rockford retorted.

"I'll keep that in mind," he responded dryly, "Want to check on Rab and Jenrya now?"

"After you, O mighty and masterful dictator-for-life," Rockford snarkily quipped.

"Oh please, like you'd follow me if I was really a dictator," Macen breezily dismissed the accusation.

"You're right," Rockford smiled, "I'd have to kick your ass."

Macen refrained from reminding her that Annika Ryst had tried that, on 3 occasions, and failed at every attempt. He led her to Daggit and Radil. Radil's fists were on her hips and she was getting into Daggit's face. Or at least as far as she could reach. He was a good 7 centimeters taller than she was.

"No!" she didn't quite shout but she was definitely on the verge, "No explosives!"

"Is there a problem?" Macen asked as he arrived. His tone left little doubt that he wasn't pleased with this development, "Because if there is, we need to solve it now! Lees and P'ris are holding off a veritable army and they could use a break, which they will only get if we recover the SOCOMM troops and get out of here."

"I told her we could just blow the doors open," Daggit stated.

"And have you blow us up in the process?" Radil waved her hand dismissively at him, "Please."

"Do you have a solution?" Macen asked archly.

Radil shot a panel in the wall and pulled open its wrecked hatch. Revealed within were ODN lines. She grinned, "We can hotwire it."

"Can you do that?" Macen wondered.

"No, but Lees or P'ris could," Radil countered, "I could relieve one of them and she could rewire this sucker."

Macen's comm badge chirped so he tapped it. Danan's perturbed voice came through, "Where's our damn relief?"

Daggit pulled his grenade launcher free and handed it to Rockford, "Here."

"Me?" she said with some alarm.

"You'll remember how," he said grimly and headed off to the building's entrance.

Radil grinned, "That's my cue to follow."

She scarpered off to join Daggit. Several minutes later, a distinctly harried looking P'ris and Danan joined Macen. He explained Radil's idea to them.

P'ris looked confident, "It should be easy enough."

Macen and Rockford moved to the left side of the door. Rockford folded out the stock of the launcher and braced it up against her shoulder. Danan ejected her nearly spent power pack and slapped a fresh one into her rifle. P'ris followed suit and then began pulling ODN lines free and plugging them into different slots.

A secondary set of blast doors sealed. P'ris pursed her lips, "It seems I have miscalculated."

"You think?" Danan sarcastically rebutted.

P'ris frowned and went back to work. The secondary doors opened and then the primary doors opened as well. Rockford swung into action.

She fired a photon grenade and the first one struck an Enforcer in the chest. He exploded and his viscera covered his comrades. She racked the pump to chamber another round and unloaded a shot into the nearest cluster of Iridians. She repeated these motions until she'd expended all 6 rounds.

She cast off the launcher and pulled her pistol free. She relentlessly mowed down the survivors. Danan gaped, "You're sure there's nothing left of Annika Ryst?"

Rockford knew what she meant. People tended to forget that although her persona was designed to mimic a human she was still an Angosian Augment with all that entailed.

Macen led the way into the cell block. The SOCOMM personnel were all on their feet. Macen turned to P'ris, "Celeste left the master control panel intact. Turn off the force fields."

P'ris was slightly indignant. She still had it in her head that she was supposed to be giving orders not taking them. She'd either adapt or be sent off to whatever glorified prison, termed "safe house", that the Federation could provide. Hell, they might even send her to Vulcan. Wouldn't that be torture for a former Tal Shiar agent?

The fields dropped and the SOCOMM men and women rushed forward. Rockford and Danan did their best to stifle the sudden crowd while Stan Guthrie pushed his way to Macen.

"I see you've made 'Commander'," Macen observed.

"For all the good it did me," Guthrie said sourly.

"I'm sorry I couldn't deliver the news about Joachim to you personally," Macen conveyed his regrets.

Guthrie gave him an angry expression, "You had your own legal issues to deal with. Speaking of which, how did you get out?"

"I didn't do it," Macen said jovially.

"There were eyewitnesses and a body," Guthrie snorted.

"It wasn't Sindis and the evidence proving that had been tampered with. Starfleet didn't trust its case anymore so they let me go," Macen explained.

"Just like that?" Guthrie tersely asked.

"Well, it was a little more complicated than that," Macen confided.

"The SID must have been rather desperate to reinstate you," Guthrie surmised.

"When aren't they?" Macen quipped.

"Okay, we're out of those cells but what happens next?" Guthrie turned professional, "And if I'm not mistaken, that's phaser fire in the background."

Macen fished isolinear tags out of his utility belt, "Form up your squads and give each of them one of these. We're transporting you out of here," Macen filled him in.

"Where are we going?" Guthrie wondered.

"You'll stop off aboard the Obsidian where you'll be rearmed. It'll be Bajoran Militia surplus but I think your people can handle that," Macen shared.

Guthrie smiled thinly, "I've always been a fan of Bajoran arms. From there we return to our assigned ships and liberate them from the Enforcers?"

"You read my mind," Macen was happy to confirm the suspicion.

"I'll get right on handing these out. The sooner we're away from her the sooner we can get these Starfleet crews across the border," Guthrie predicted. He called all of the squads into order and handed out the tags to each group leader. At the end he formed up with his team.

Macen tapped his comm badge. "Macen to Telrik."

"Telrik here," the Tellarite reported.

"Lock onto the isolinear tags and begin transporting each group of six that surrounds the tag," Macen ordered.

"I'm on it," Telrik jovially replied.

The squads beamed out in seven minute intervals. Finally, only the SID team remained. Telrik commed Macen.

"I've got all of them and have widened my targeting sensors. I've got the entire team locked and ready to transport," the Transporter Chief informed him.

"Then bring us home," Macen instructed.


Chapter Eighteen

Macen and Guthrie materialized in the Troy's Cargo Bay 1. With them were Petty Officer 3rd Class Andrews, Crewman Neflik, Crewman Norquist, Crewman Vak'quish, and Crewman Pizza. Pizza was truly unique. "He" was a Horta and used a vocoder to speak. His given name was untranslatable to Federation Basic so he used the nom de guerre "Pizza" since someone had once claimed he resembled a pan pizza.

Norquist and Vak'quish secured the outer corridor. They then began to advance. They acted as the scouts while the others brought up the rear. In preparation for this assault, Macen and the SID members had shared how to take down an Iridian. A lethal particle beam strike to the eye would sear the recipient's brain. Nothing less than a beheading would work otherwise.

Apparently the Ardannian Stratosian and the Antarean forgot that. When they encountered an Enforcer foot patrol the fired into the Iridians' chests. They went down but started to get right back up. Their fellow officers cut the Starfleet crewmen down.

Guthrie took careful aim and shot one on the eye and then the other. Macen dealt with one still on the deckplates and Neflik took out the fourth. Macen nodded to the Denobulan and the burly alien advanced forward while Macen and Guthrie covered him. He kicked the corpses and made certain they were truly dead.

Meanwhile, Andrews was busy keeping Pizza back. She was having a difficult time of it because the enraged Horta had been friends with both fallen Starfleet personnel. Guthrie had a few choice words for Pizza. This was combat, just the same as any other mission op, and cooler heads had to prevail or they would all die.

"Besides, they are using polaron phasers," Guthrie reminded him, "We don't know how much damage they can inflict on you."

"Oh, okay," Pizza sullenly relented.

"Neflik, you're with me," Guthrie ordered.

"I do have more experience with Iridians than either of you combined," Macen dryly reminded them.

"That makes you the expert. We need you alive to share your wealth of experience," Guthrie replied with a tone as dry as the Vulcan Forge.

Macen knew he'd just been put in his place. Guthrie knew that Macen had operated as a field agent for the last 30 years yet he was still juts an analyst in the SOCOMM officer's eyes. He was the man under whose watch Guthrie's lover had been killed. That kind of incompetence had to be dealt with by sidelining said incompetent and running the show as Guthrie damn well saw fit.

"Move out," Guthrie ordered.


In the end they swept that deck and then they proceeded to Main Engineering. Liberating the engineering staff, they were able to overtake the Enforcers in Auxiliary Control. Now able to override the bridge through the two main outlets, they locked down the ship. Force fields were erected through the corridors and the doors were locked so the Iridians couldn't hide in a compartment.

The Iridians had sent all nonessential personnel too their quarters. They were informed to stay there until called upon. With the doors locked, it wasn't as thought they could exit anyway.

Next they liberated the Security section of the ship. The Enforcers went down and the Captain and the XO were liberated from the brig. Neflik escorted the CO and his 1st Officer to Auxiliary Control where he would remain on station to protect them until Security officers could be freed up to guard them.

Guthrie laid out his plan for reclaiming the bridge and Macen interjected, "I should be the one to ride in the turbolift with Pizza. You're needed with Andrews to come in through the Captain's Ready Room. She can't do it by herself and you've made it abundantly clear you don't trust my 'inferior' skill set so I'm the logical candidate to place in the lift."

Guthrie wanted to argue but he could see Macen's point. He could see both of them actually. Macen was a 30 year veteran in the field. He'd survived the Border Wars, time placed with the Maquis, the Dominion War, and over ten years as a covert operative. The SID got the missions judged too sensitive even for SOCOMM. He'd earned his badges and his scars.

What this really boiled down to was Joachim. Dracas had died at the clone of Sindis' hands while Macen had survived. The clone had even cut off Dracas' head with his own sword. Guthrie had known nothing good could come of Dracas carrying the damned thing. It was only Dracas' stubborn Roman pride that insisted that he venture into every operation with it strapped to his hip.

Guthrie had lost his husband in the Dominion War and it had been Dracas that had helped mend his heart. They'd even begun to talk marriage themselves when the Roman was cut down. He'd blamed Macen for that. He guessed he still did.

Combat was no place for such feelings. It made one distracted and sloppy. Deaths occurred that way. Two members of his team had already died and he couldn't help but wonder if his attitude had contributed to them. His teammates certainly took their cue from him and he'd snubbed and belittled Macen before them. Why would they consequently listen to his advice?

A sharp stab of guilt pierced Guthrie's heart. His mentor, Elias Vaughn, had once confided in him that Macen was a close personal friend and that Vaughn had taught him everything he knew up until the point that Macen began to teach him new methodologies. Guthrie revered Vaughn. How could he so vastly underestimate a man that Vaughn himself honored?

Macen was also friends with Alynna Nechayev. Macen, in fact, had watched over her career in Starfleet Intelligence. Nechayev was a legend in the Special Operations community. She commanded the respect of such esteemed officers as Mackenzie Calhoun, Vaughn, T'Prynn, and it seemed Macen as well.

Macen was the James T. Kirk of Starfleet Intelligence. He'd literally told Starfleet Command to "get stuffed" on more than one occasion and came out on top. He'd been justified in the end but his methods had burned bridges with the Admiralty. They kept him aboard out of practical necessity but the day when he was no longer needed, Macen would be dropped on his ear and left there for dead.

More to the point, Macen was a valuable resource. Guthrie needed to put his personal animosity aside for the mission's sake if for no other. What was eerie though was that Macen seemed to know what was running through his emotional spectrum even as it occurred. He knew El-Aurians were famed as "Listeners" but he'd never encountered one before. After all, there were only 46 of them amongst the trillions of beings populating the Federation.


"All right," Guthrie conceded, "We'll do it your way."

Andrews' eyeballs almost popped out but she quickly recovered. The Petty 3rd obviously knew it was bad form to gape and stare. Pizza was rather more pleased by the turn of events.

"We'll do a site to site transport and beam into the Ready Room. Once we're there we'll comm you," Guthrie instructed, "Comm us when the lift arrives and hold the doors while you comm us. After you've done that, open the doors and let Pizza roll."

He turned to the Horta, "Do whatever it takes."

"Yes sir!" the vocoder translated the grinding noises that comprised a Horta's native language. It seemed to capture his enthusiasm perfectly.

"Move out," Guthrie ordered.

Macen and Pizza headed down the corridor for the lift. Guthrie called out to them, "Good luck."

Macen threw a salute his way, "You too."


In the transporter room, the Senior Chief in charge readied the machine. Aligning the internal targeting sensors for a site to site transport, she locked their destination into place and told the commandoes such.

Guthrie and Andrews dissolved out of existence and rematerialized in the Ready Room. The internal sensors registered their presence and activated the lights. As expected, the area was vacated. The entire senior staff was being held in the bridge with the exclusion of the captain and XO.

Guthrie commed Macen and then waited by the door. Not close enough to trigger its opening but near enough to trigger such an event at any time. Andrews scrutinized Guthrie.

"If you don't mind me asking, what is this Macen guy to you?" she inquired, "Are you his jilted lover or something?"

Guthrie glared at her for a moment and then softened, "I guess I do owe you and explanation. Just so you know, Sasha, he's not an ex-lover."

"Then what is it? You obviously dislike the guy," she pressed even harder for the truth.

"You've heard me mention Joachim Dracas?" Guthrie asked.

Andrews rolled her eyes, "Only about a million times. What's the connection?"

"Macen was Joachim's commanding officer," Guthrie explained, "Macen lived while Joachim died."

"So you hate his guts because he lived while your boyfriend didn't?" Andrews asked. Seeing Guthrie's nod of affirmation she continued, "I hate to say it but that's the stupidest reason I'd ever heard for hating someone."

Guthrie was visibly startled by her candor, "If he killed Joachim or he caused the death through negligence on his part, I could see it."

"He went to prison for murder. He was supposed to be there for 20 years yet they let him out early," Guthrie spat.

"Was he convicted of killing Joachim?" Andrews asked.

"No. The investigation said that Bertram Sindis was solely responsible. Macen wasn't even in the area at the time," Guthrie elaborated.

"Then who did Macen kill?" Andrews wanted to know.

"Sindis," Guthrie admitted.

"God, he killed the man that actually killed your boyfriend and you want to lock him up?" Andrews was incredulous, "You should be thanking him!"

Guthrie simply stood there as her words sank in. He could tell Andrews was ready to literally beat the message into him. Her frustration threshold had been maxed out and he was an inviting target. Besides that, what she'd said made a disturbing amount of sense.

"I'll take it under consideration," Guthrie allowed at last.

"Seriously sir, if you don't get over this hang up I will kick your ass," Andrews warned.

"I'll take that under consideration as well," Guthrie chuckled. He checked his chrono, "Now just where are our little lost lambs?"


Getting Pizza into the turbolift had been easy. Getting turned around so he could face outward when the doors opened on the bridge was another matter. Macen had to wait outside of the lift while Pizza swiveled about. That had almost proven to be impossible.

"Sorry, sir. It appears I have gained same mass on this trip," the Horta apologized.

Macen stepped into the lift, "Just how do they feed you while you're aboard ship? Don't you ingest ores and rock?"

"They keep a supply down in that cargo bay we beamed into. I go down there once a day and have a snack. Apparently my helpings have been a tad too generous," Pizza described the situation.

"Nervous eating?" Macen wondered.

"Yeah, I guess so," Pizza sheepishly confessed.

"Hold on," Macen hit the "Stop" button as the lift reached its destination. Tapping his comm badge, he routed a call to Guthrie, "We're in position."

"Good. We go on 3," Guthrie decided, "1...2...3!"

Macen released the door and Pizza charged out with a rumbling battle cry. Macen himself had his phaser drawn and ready. Swinging it up into a two handed grip he shot the Enforcer closest to the Security station.

Pizza had run over the closest Iridian and was atop of him. Smoke from his acidic excretions was billowing and the smell of melting flesh filled the air. Two more Iridians fired at Pizza forcing him off of their comrade with a loud cry of pain at their polaron strikes.

Guthrie and Andrews emerged from the Ready Room even as Macen was pinned down. They each killed an Enforcer. Guthrie spared a glance towards the charred and partially dissolved form of the Iridian Pizza had dealt with. There were only two Enforcers left and they had hostages.

"Drop your weapons and lace your fingers over your heads!" Guthrie demanded.

The Enforcers glanced around. One, the presumed officer, held The OPS Officer, one Ensign Harriet Lee, in front of him with a polaron pistol pointed at the back of her head. Lee was understandably discomfited. Such things were supposed to happen as a member of an Away Team not on the bridge of a starship.

The other Enforcer kept Lt. Commander Rory McLean, the Tactical Officer, at gunpoint by aiming his rifle at the human's back. As the 2nd Officer, McLean was the ranking bridge officer and he was trying to keep his people calm. Which was good. The Iotian lieutenant at CONN, one Gazda Trellian, was looking rather twitchy. McLean knew she was inches away from launching herself at an Iridian.

"Trellian, stand down. Harriet, stay calm. We're all getting out of this. Got that, Sien?" McLean made the verbal rounds.

Sien was the Science Officer. He was a Rigellian Vulcanoid. When the proto-Romulans went out from Vulcan, a splinter faction went to Rigel IV. While Vulcans mastered their passions through logic and the Romulans channeled them in martial prowess, the Rigellians harnessed them into sexual energy. McLean wasn't as afraid of Sien attacking the two Iridians as much as him jumping their bones.

Both Iridian sexes were represented on the bridge, assuming there only two. The officer was female. She had the chalky gray skin her race was known for but she had raven hair in stark contrast to the males' stark white mops. McLean hadn't noticed any other differences between the sexes that could be exploited. Both Enforcers were consummately deadly professionals and now they were desperate.

"You kill her and I kill you," Guthrie warned the officer.

She smiled and edged her arm past Lee's head in a heartbeat and shot Guthrie in the chest. Her other hand steadied Lee by grasping the human's shoulder and returning her pistol to the back of the young woman's head.

"Goddammit!" Guthrie snarled from where he tried to rise from the deckplates. His ablative armor vest was stripped all the way down to nothing and his uniform was smoking.

"Stand down, sir," Andrews ordered, "I've got this."

"Do you now?" the Iridian female sneered, "Really?"

Macen suddenly shot Lee in the leg and she went down. The Enforcer officer had time to look shocked before a particle beam pierced her left eye and killed her. Andrews and Macen now turned their attention to the trooper holding McLean at bay.

McLean had used the distraction to spin and push the rifle away but the Iridian head butted him and his superior strength staggered the human and he went down. The Enforcer, engrossed in his private little war, forgot about the SOCOMM and SID agents and was therefore easy prey. He went down and the bridge crew began securing the bridge. They found their stations overridden from Auxiliary control.

Guthrie commed Captain Enerya, "Captain, this is Guthrie. We've secured the bridge. You can release control now."

The Bolian replied, "Yes, Commander. We'll be releasing the bridge controls and joining you on the bridge. Can you and your force assist our security units in capturing the remaining Enforcers?"

"I wouldn't recommend taking prisoners," Guthrie said as he rose from the deck.

"That isn't Starfleet policy," Enerya retorted.

"Make an exception," Guthrie resolutely asserted, "These people can't be casually killed by a phaser strike set to 'maximum disrupt'. The 'stun' setting is useless. Only a direct shot to the eye can harm them. They're stronger, faster, and meaner than your personnel. I recommend not taking prisoners and since I'm the mission commander I'm giving you my strongest recommendation not to toy around with these people. They'd do the same in a heartbeat."

"And that's what makes us superior to them," Enerya rejoined.

Frustrated, Guthrie shook his head; "Where's Security gathering?

"Deck 2, Section 4," Enerya announced, "We're in the turbolift and will be there in seconds."

on cue the turbolift opened and the Bolian captain and her Tellarite XO exited. Enerya halted Guthrie, Andrews, and Pizza's advance towards the lift, "I need a sitrep."

"Macen, will you oblige the Captain?" Guthrie said as he moved around the Starfleet CO.

She called after him, "Are you injured, Commander? I couldn't help but notice your armored vest."

"Only my pride, Ma'am. Only my pride," Guthrie said before he released the doors and they shooshed shut.

"And you," Enerya took in Macen's uniform, "You're not Starfleet."

"Not anymore," Macen retorted.

"I take it by that badge you're wearing you're licensed privateer," Enerya ignored his humor.

"Yes, ma'am. Starfleet hired me to find you and recover you," Macen explained.

"I know Starfleet has been employing more and more irregular forces but to hire a civilian to conduct a rescue operation? Where's the fleet?" Enerya inquired.

"Slightly busy averting a war," Macen replied. Seeing her alarm, he decided to pose a question of his own, "How long have the Iridians held you?"

"A little over seven days," Enerya answered.

"Well, in those seven days the Enforcers have moved up several fleets. One threatens the Breens' borders, another the Romulans', and a third ours. The fleet opposite of the allied task force has announced its intention to traverse through the Bajoran wormhole into the Gamma Quadrant," Macen reported.

"To meet with the Dominion," Enerya surmised.

"That's the consensus," Macen shared, "The point is, the Enforcer units are jamming active sensors so we have no idea of what's behind the forward units."

"And the diplomatic option?" the captain asked.

"Is being explored as we speak," Macen assured her, "However, there aren't high expectations for a successful mission."

"And your mission? What were we to do once we were liberated? Flank the fleet facing the Federation and see what's behind them?" Enerya asked wearily.

Macen grinned, "No Ma'am. I was to get you directly across the border and to DS9. There you would confer with the Admiralty and receive new orders."

"Sounds reasonable. Unlike our original orders," Enerya sighed.

Macen's comm badge sounded off and he excused himself as he moved away from the captain and she and her XO reestablished order amongst the chaos. It was Rockford.

"We've cleared the bridge and now Avila is clearing out the remaining pockets of resistance." Rockford's casual reference to the Orion Master Chief meant the two women had hit it off, "So what are my marching orders, Boss?"

"Update the Captain as to Starfleet's situation and let him or her know that they can proceed home once all the ships and crews are secured," Macen replied.

"Gotcha. And the captain's a 'her' by the way," Rockford informed him.

"And aren't you just insufferably pleased by that?" he teased.

"You betcha. Oops! Got to go. Shvaughn's giving me the evil eye. She wants her report and she wants it now! Talk to you later. Love you!" Rockford signed off.

Danan and P'ris were the next ones to report in. The only SID team, he'd place the Trill with the Romulan to ease the starship crews' concerns over P'ris' ethnicity. Their report followed Rockford's lines.

Daggit reported in. He'd waited until every Iridian was put down. The ship was secure and ready to travel. Radil came last and reported similar circumstances as Daggit. Riker chose that moment to contact Macen.

"Grace is coming in hot with an entire fighter wing after her and the Enforcer ships are powering up," he divulged.

"We knew it couldn't last forever," Macen sighed.

"Do you want us to recover the team?" Riker wondered.

"No, we'll sit this out aboard our individual ships. Assist Hannah. She's good but I think these pilots might be a match for her," Macen instructed.

Riker chuckled, "You'd better not ever say that to her face."

""Do I look suicidal?" Macen chuckled.

"Weeelll, there have been rumors," Riker played along.

"Just help Hannah. Out," Macen signed off and moved to inform Captain Enerya. Next he called his people and told them to stay put. They were about to engage the enemy...with five lightly armed science ships. Luckily, Macen still had an ace to play.


Chapter Nineteen

"Strap in," Grace advised McMasters, "The inertial damper is not going to be able to keep up."

The engineer quickly fastened the crash harness secreted in his seat. Grace did so as well. The runabout began taking polaron strikes and the shield monitors displayed at the OPS panel began showing weakening. Grace broke into a maniacal grin.

"Hold on. This is where it gets...interesting," she proclaimed and then launched into a series of evasive jukes that McMasters knew would've ripped the chassis apart if he hadn't bulked up the structural integrity fields.

The enhancements made to the Corsair's maneuvering thrusters had tripled the response time but they were still lagging behind Grace's commands. He knew she really wasn't human but she'd never had a reason to demonstrate just how alien she really was until today. That trick with depriving the Iridians of air was chilling enough but these inhuman reflexes were just too much to bear.

Grace hadn't hid anything from him when she'd requested these modifications to the runabout. He knew she had complete situational awareness. Every sensor monitor, motion tracker, and old fashioned eyeball perspectives played into her reactions. And her response time was off the charts! McMasters had never seen anyone's hands move so fast.

Grace had been right about the inertial dampers. McMasters was thrown one direction and then another. There would have been no way he could've stayed in his seat without the straps. Even the artificial gravity was getting twitchy. His inner ear was wreaking havoc with his equilibrium. He noted that Grace was entirely unaffected by these conditions. Her focus was absolute and nothing could distract her.

"Dammit," she swore under her breath.

"What is it?" McMasters was alarmed. Whatever could rattle the pilot could only bode ill for him.

"Six fighters have broken off and are engaging the Obsidian. To make matters worse, the Enforcer cruiser and frigates are powering back up. Their targeting sensors are active and their weapons are coming on-line," Grace reported the malady.

"Shannon?" McMasters plaintively asked.

Grace smiled despite the situation, "She's fine for now but the Obsidian isn't a ship of the line. Unless Shannon and Jaycee come up with a brilliant counter offensive, the ship's going to take a beating."

That did little to allay McMasters' fears. Grace's expression turned wry, "Eric, Shannon is a professional. She was the Tactical Officer aboard a Centaur-class starship during the Dominion War. They were employed as long range tactical assets so she knows what she's doing. Probably better than Tom because he sat the war out near Sherman's Planet."

"But..." McMasters protested. He'd noticed that Grace had thrown them into a spiraling loop and arrived behind the enemy fighters...if they truly were considered the enemy yet.

"No buts about it," Grace irritably declared, "Trust her like you've never trusted her before."

"Yes, mom," he managed to smile, "I did notice that we're now pursuing those fighters."

Grace's face broke into a thin smile, "Best way to help the ship is to clear a path."

"And if you have to destroy a fighter?" McMasters wondered.

Grace's smile turned feral, "That is Plan A."


"Shields up!" Forger ordered, "Activate trackers and begin targeting individual fighters."

"Commander, our tracking system can only acquire four targets. That leaves two unaccounted for," Miller reminded her superior.

"Do what you can, Jaycee," Forger encouraged her.

Riker took over, "Rhiann, plot an exit vector. I want to draw the fighters away from the Starfleet vessels."

"So, we're the bait?" Forger inquired.

"Basically," Riker confirmed her fears, "Those survey ships only have phasers and one torpedo tube. The optional pods they carry are sensor platforms not torpedo launchers. Those Iridian ships are going to eat them alive."

The ship shuddered and Forger turned to Miller, "Sitrep, Jaycee."

"I destroyed one but they've all engaged us now," Miller reported as she frowned in concentration.

Forger pulled up the tactical display on her screen, "Captain...their shields are a joke."

"But they're nimble," he commented, "They're evading most of our shots."

"But how?" Forger wondered in disbelief.

"They start to evade the moment we lock phasers on them," Riker observed.

Forger was out of her seat and at the Tactical station, "New plan: don't use the phaser lock. Target them manually."

Miller just stared at her as though she were insane. Forger pushed her out of the way, "Let me."

Forger sat down and immediately began leading fighters with her targeting scanners. She then proceeded to destroy three in a row. That left two and they went into wildly erratic patterns that were difficult to predict. Miller, who was still gaping over the first three kills, watched in horror as Forger missed time and again.

"Wait!" Miller exclaimed and she pointed at the screens, "Look!"

What there was to see was the Corsair swooping in and neutralizing the last two targets. Forger slid out of her chair and offered it back to Miller. A telltale went off and Miller reported to Riker.

"Captain, the Corsair is hailing," she informed him.

"Put it on screen," Riker ordered.

Grace's features filled the screen, "'Lo Captain. Ready to rock and ruin?"

Riker chuckled, "If you mean 'ready to engage the cruiser' then yes, I am."

"That's what I said," Grace pouted.

"If you'll lead the way, we'll follow you in," Riker offered.

"Right," Grace said with some relish, "Tell Rhiann to keep up."

The Andorian gave Riker a thumbs up, "I do believe she's looking forward to it."

"Then let's be about it," Grace signed off and the runabout darted off. Riker smiled, "Follow her."

Rhiann's fingers danced across her LCARS CONN interface and the Obsidian began her pursuit.


Aboard the Troy, Captain Eneryo was in command of the ship and the squadron. The Carthage and the Karakorum were directed at the Enforcer frigates while the Zimbabwe and the Persepolis joined the Troy in engaging the heavy cruiser. Macen had been allowed to remain on the bridge as a mission specialist.

Guthrie and his SOCOMM troops were bolstering Security and preparing for a potential boarding action. Guthrie had recently learned that the SOCOMM units under his command had suffered seventy-five percent losses. While he'd only lost two crewmen, most of the six man teams had lost an average of four personnel. That included Lt, Wijra and Senior Chief Thorien, the SOCOMM commanders on the Zimbabwe and the Karakorum.

Aboard the Carthage, Master Chief Avila only had Crewman Aron 8 with her. The Zimbabwe's sole remaining SOCOMM member was Crewman Annetta. Lt. Greffar still had Crewmen Klytus and Vetris aboard the Persepolis. Crewman Kitra and Belerian were the survivors from the Karakorum.

"Mister Macen," Eneryo practically sneered the title even as she avoided his shipboard rank, "what do you estimate our chances to be against the Enforcer frigates?"

"I think you've sent those ships to their doom," Macen replied evenly, trying not to betray the emotions roiling just under his surface.

"I beg your pardon?" the Bolian captain was affronted. Her Tellarite XO was instantly in Macen's face.

"You'd best be explaining yourself before I have Security remove you from the bridge," Commander Caz beg Calig warned.

"Your forces are all rated by Starfleet as being of being classified as frigates. That's not their primary role but they can serve a secondary purpose as such. We classified Iridian ships as 'frigates' simply because they are the weakest link in the chain not because they possess corollary strength with a comparable Starfleet analog. Their analog would be a heavy cruiser just as their heavy cruiser could easily be ranked with our Galaxy- and Sovereign-class starships," Macen recited the facts and then moved on to analysis, "But that's not the real danger. The real danger is the Iridians' love of complex stratagems and traps. They'll expose themselves to harm in order to lure their prey in and spring a trap of massively destructive potential."

This amused Eneryo, "What I see is that you still refer to yourself as 'we' as though you still belonged to Starfleet Intelligence. You do not. You're a third rate privateer and you've obviously based your assumptions on your own pathetic ship and crew not on front line Starfleet forces."

"Except you're not front line forces," Macen sagely reminded her.

She sniffed derisively, "We are today." She cocked her head in Calig's direction, "Have Mister Macen escorted to the Security Office."

"Shall I have him placed in the brig?" Calig gleefully asked.

"No," she honestly seemed to consider it as she weighed her options, "Let Commander Guthrie decide what to do with him."

Calig snapped his fingers and the on duty Security rating stepped forward to Macen's side. Macen shook his head, "Do not underestimate these people. The moment you do, it'll be the last mistake you ever make."

"We'll be certain to keep that in mind," Calig's words dripped with sarcasm. He turned to the rating, "Take him away."


The Starfleet vessels opened with a volley of torpedoes and phaser fire as they broke orbit. Unfortunately, their timing was off. The Enforcers got their shields up in time to minimize the effects of their weaponry. In turn they began retaliating with their polaron phasers. The deadlier polaron strikes quickly ate away at the starships' shields.

As if to add insult to injury, the Enforcers began to hammer away at the stricken starships with quantum torpedoes. The Starfleet ships only wielded photons so the higher caliber yields of the Enforcer torpedoes were devastating. It was during this general onslaught that the Karakorum began to maneuver ever closer to the Enforcer frigates. Constantly pummeling of their shields and the incessant demands of damage control parties distracted her commander from realizing he'd maneuvered his ship into a crossfire.

The Enforcers abandoned attacking the Carthage in order to concentrate their combined firepower on the stricken Karakorum. The Carthage flanked one of the Enforcer ships and began pounding at her broadside. It was far too little, far too late. Captain Becker ordered all hands to abandon ship as the shields collapsed. Even the emergency bulkhead shields were intermittently failing and a half a dozen crewmen had been lost to the void.

Radil was one of the hapless passengers fleeing the ship before the warp core lost containment. She did her best to calm those entering the lifepods. Having served under Macen's command, she was no stranger to losing a ship. It had been awhile and one never completely lost the queasy feeling in one's gut over such a loss. Now they could only hope the Enforcers were feeling merciful and wouldn't fire on the helpless lifeboats.


Meanwhile, the Troy, the Zimbabwe, and the Persepolis were fighting for their lives. Captain Eneryo was beginning to think the fight was an exercise in futility when the Obsidian sailed in an engaged the Enforcer heavy. The Corsair sailed past and headed for the debris field created by the Karakorum's demise.

Eneryo was galvanized into action. She hailed Commander Miller of the Persepolis and had her divert to reinforce the Carthage. Erin Miller was the ship's XO but she was in command since the Iridians had slain her captain. Miller complied without a word being said. Ten years ago she'd been a relatively junior officer who'd been promoted through the ranks because her superiors were all dead. It was a common story from the Dominion War. Eneryo could see in Miller's eyes the numb acceptance of what had happened to her CO and knew the Commander would do her duty or die trying.


"Damn it! We're taking a pounding," Forger observed between gritted teeth.

"Jaycee, keep pouring it in!" Riker shouted over the sound of shorting out systems and micro explosions, "Rhiann, see if you can give us some maneuvering room."

Rhiann grunted and did her best. Riker knew comparisons between her and Grace were unfair. The Andorian was highly skilled but Grace was a savant. Miller suddenly shouted out.

"Shields are collapsing!" she yelled.

Riker toggled the comm, "Parva, we need more power."

"You'll be lucky if we don't blow up in the next ten minutes," Parva snarled.

Explosions rocked the ship and everyone was thrown from their stations. Riker got to his seat first, "Report!"

"They sheared off the port nacelle," Forger said as she stared at her display. She and Riker exchanged a look. That meant the Obsidian was effectively stranded within this solar system. Riker commed Parva.

"Can you throw everything into propulsion and shields?" he asked the Orion engineer.

"I can but why?" she wanted to know.

"Just do it and prepare to abandon ship," he ordered.

"Captain, we can..." Forger desperately began but Riker held up a single finger to ward off her objections.

He hit the comm button again and made a ship wide announcement, "All hands, abandon ship. I repeat, all hands abandon ship."

He turned to Rhiann, "You're relieved."

The zhen stepped away with a confused look on her face.

Forger grabbed Riker's arm, "I am not letting you do this!"

His roundhouse punch caught her unprepared and she went down. Riker turned to Rhiann, "Get her to a lifeboat."

"Good luck, Captain," Rhiann offered as she gathered up Forger's nearly insensate form.

Riker looked around at the bridge officers milling about, "What are you waiting for? Get to your lifeboats!"

Riker sat down at the CONN and began plotting his course. He was taking the Obsidian down the throat of the heavy cruiser. He pulled up an auxiliary display and saw that all of the lifeboats were away. Now that his crew was as safe as they could get, he threw the ship into maximum impulse and guided the crippled surveyor at the Enforcer menace. Riker knew its threat was going to end one way or another in a matter of seconds.


"What are they doing?" Eneryo asked in bewilderment.

"It appears they're going to ram the cruiser," Calig observed.

"Are they mad?" Eneryo wondered.

"Maybe, but they're also our best hope of stopping these bastards," Calig opined. Eneryo considered his words. The Troy had taken a beating but her shields were still up and the secondary systems had engaged when the primaries went down.

"Status of the other ships?" Eneryo suddenly asked.

Calig checked his screens, "The Carthage is a gutted ruin. It appears her lifeboats made it off in time. The Persepolis crew is abandoning ship. A warp core breach is imminent."

"And the Zimbabwe?" Eneryo asked with little hope.

"Dead in the water," Calig grimly reported.

"And the two Iridian frigates?" Eneryo dreaded the answer but she had to know.

"Headed our way," Calig said with an air of finality.


Riker felt the familiar sensation of an annular confinement beam. Next came the all too welcome embrace of a transporter. He solidified to find McMasters peering at him.

"Are you all right?" the engineer inquired.

"Fine, thanks to you," Riker breathed a sigh of relief.

"Eric!" Grace shouted back into the runabout's cabin, "Haul your ass up here!"

McMasters grinned, "Duty calls."

Riker followed as McMasters planted himself at the OPS station. Riker sat down at Engineering.

"Excuse me, Captain, but you aren't in charge here so kindly keep your fat lip shut," Grace warned.

"Yes, ma'am," Riker crisply replied. Riker tried to sound upbeat but he was truly dismayed. Grace had quit being the Obsidian's Chief Helmsman because she adamantly refused to serve under him any longer. He thought they'd reached neutral corners of not an actual accord since then. Apparently that wasn't the case.

"Whoa!" McMasters shouted as the Obsidian buckled the heavy cruiser's shields and rammed the forward sections of the Enforcer ship. Iridian designs were similar to the newest generation Federation starship so their bridge modules were located at the center of an elliptical saucer that swept back into an engineering hull. The damage was severe enough to feed back into the drive section and destabilize the warp core. The ship was subsequently destroyed by an unchecked matter/antimatter annihilation reaction.

"Your plan worked, Captain," McMasters cheered.

"Unfortunately I'm fresh out of starships," Riker said glumly.

"Well, there's not a whole lot we can do. Somehow I think a lone runabout against two starships is a lot like throwing a spit wad at a tiger," McMasters commented. Grace suddenly broke into a huge smile.

"What're you grinning at?" McMasters asked in a dubious tone.

"Check your sensors," she instructed cheekily.

McMasters started to but the Corsair was suddenly overtaken and then passed by a wing of Lightning-class fighters. The Starfleet fighter squadron attacked the two remaining Enforcer ships.

McMasters gaped and Grace laughed, "Wait for it."

A Galaxy-class carrier and two Defiant-class escorts came in, phasers and torpedoes blazing. McMasters looked back at Riker, who was just as stunned as he.

"It's the Hood, the Monitor, and the Merrimack," Riker breathed.

"You knew!" McMasters accused Grace.

"Maybe," she teased.

"How could you know when I didn't?" Riker demanded to know.

"Macen told Celeste and Celeste told me," Grace explained as though it were the most simplistic thing in the galaxy.


The Monitor and the Merrimack unleashed their pulse phasers upon the frigates. Rascal Squadron yielded salvo after salvo upon them. The Hood took up station between the cloud of lifeboats and the Enforcer ships. The concentration of firepower bore fruit and the Iridians scuttled their ships rather than be taken prisoner.

Grace received a hail from Commander Verity Jones, the Flight Control Officer aboard the Hood she knew Jones had recently stepped down as CAG of the squadron and now served aboard ship rather than flying with her fellow pilots. It was a choice Liz Liefers had to accept when she'd become flight controller of the USS Intrepid. Grace had Liefers counsel Jones during the transition. From what Grace could tell from Jones' image, the flight controller was content but there was still an element of yearning in her eyes.

"Hello Hannah," Jones offered by way of greeting, "Glad to see you're still flying."

"I see your people neutralized the threat," Grace observed, "What happens now?"

"The shuttlebay is deploying all craft and we're mounting rescue operations. The Monitor and the Merrimack will cover us," Jones described what was to happen.

"Ooo-kay, but what about us?" Grace clarified.

"We've allocated space for in the shuttlebay. We're recovering the Rascals right now. As soon as they're done the shuttlebay flight controller will signal you and bring you in," Jones explained.

"We could actually coordinate in the rescue effort. We have emergency capacity for at least forty people," Grace offered her services.

Jones smiled, "I'll pass that along. Stand by."

"Thank you for that," Riker said softly.

Grace offered a benevolent smile, "With any luck we'll pick up Shannon, Rhiann, and Parva."

While that prospect thrilled McMasters, Riker was worried about his wife. Danan had nine lifetimes worth of experience so if anyone was safe, it would be her. Still, he felt a pang of worry. They'd been in combat and in combat anything could happen. He knew the situation was out of his control but he wouldn't relax until Danan was back in his arms.


Chapter Twenty

The survivors were staggered between the Hood's cargo bays. The Tenochtitlan-starships had an optimal crew compliment of 116. However, even the addition of the surviving SOCOMM and SID forces couldn't replace the losses endured and return the ships' complements to that number. The Karakorum's crew was herded into Cargo Bay One. The surviving members of the Zimbabwe's crew went to Cargo Bay Two. Likewise, the members of the Carthage went to Bay Three and the Persepolis crewmen went to Bay Four. The Obsidian's complement went to Bay Five.

Aboard the Troy, Captain Eneryo was arguing with the Hood's CO, Merry Limerick. Slamming her fist against her desk, the Bolian hotly declared, "I absolutely refuse to scuttle my ship!"

"Then we'll leave you behind and you can take your chances against the Enforcer reinforcements that are on their way and you know they're coming." Limerick coldly replied.

"You can't leave us!" Eneryo practically shrieked, "Your orders..."

"My orders were to bring back anyone I could safely and with minimal incidents," Limerick quashed her argument, "Your ship is severely damaged. You've lost auxiliary power and are surviving on your battery supply. You yourself stated that your engineers might be able to restore auxiliary power in two hours and main power within twenty-four hours." Limerick's eyes bored into hers, "We don't have that kind of time. If you're lucky enough to set out before an Enforcer war party arrives then you may transit out of this star system before they find you. Whatever the case may be, the rest of us won't be here to watch your demise."

"We can't abandon this ship!" Eneryo roared, "She's the last of her kind!"

Limerick studied her as she composed herself. The Bolian had leapt out of her seat as she thundered. Now she collapsed back into it, "This squadron represented every surviving ship of the Tenochtitlan-class. This ship, in turn, is the last of those. I will not abandon her."

"Then I suggest you ask for volunteers and allow the rest of your crew to transport from your vessel to mine," Limerick offered.

"Starfleet is not a democracy," Eneryo snapped.

"You ask for volunteers to stay and abide by those decisions or I transport the whole damn lot of you and throw you in the brig," Limerick's growing ire was revealed.

Eneryo's eyes narrowed, "Very well. Have your transporter chiefs stand by to receive the cowards that abandon ship."

Limerick ignored the slight and opted to celebrate any victory that he could, "I'll alert them."

Eneryo signed off and Limerick signaled Transporter Room One. The Troy only had one transporter versus the four aboard the Hood. The other three transporter room could continue recovering crewmen stranded in their lifeboats. The Monitor and the Merrimack had ceased patrolling the system and were rescuing crewman from the Zimbabwe.


Eneryo stood in the transporter room and scowled as crewmen filed in and took their positions on the transporter pads. She furiously typed onto a padd, recording their names and their crime of 'desertion'. After every name had been taken she'd transfer the list to the main computer and file charges with Starfleet Command. At least that was the plan before her padd got rudely ripped out of her hands.

Macen handed the padd to Guthrie, who threw it on the deckplates and shot it with his phaser. Macen met her imperious glare with a steely gaze. She saw a fortitude there she knew she couldn't match.

"Get out," he instructed.

"Are you telling me what to do on my ship?" she wanted to know.

"Yes, now get the hell out of here before Commander Guthrie and I throw you out," Macen ordered.

"I'll have you up on charges," she weakly threatened.

"So what?" he asked scornfully, "I'm a civilian. And quite frankly I don't think Guthrie gives a damn."

"Damn straight," Guthrie growled.

"You'll be hearing from me," Eneryo warned as she stalked out of the transporter.

"In a few hours we'll never hear from you again," Macen said sadly.

Guthrie knew from Joachim that Macen often navigated the realms of probability, a realm known as the Currents by the El-Aurian mystics, and he could very well be announcing Eneryo's ultimate fate. He started to say something when Macen glanced his way, "Time to gather your lambs, Commander."

Pizza, Andrews, Neflik, and Macen joined Guthrie on the pads and were swept away by a transporter beam.


The SOCOMM personnel were gathering in the Rascal Squadron briefing room. The Rascals had redeployed and had taken up the patrols the Monitor and the Merrimack had abandoned. There was a general clamor upon Guthrie's arrival. Crewman Annetta was the sole surviving SOCOMM member aboard the Zimbabwe and she had been transported to the Merrimack and had checked in from there.

Lt. Greffar had taken a preliminary head count and begun debriefing the SOCOMM troopers. Guthrie thanked the Capellan and had him carry on. Klytus spoke for Greffar's team just as Andrews spoke for Guthrie's. Guthrie contacted Commander Havelick and reported in with the Hood's XO. The normally gruff First Officer promised that Captain Limerick would contact him when he had time. The Elvin officer was debriefing the starship captains, including the Obsidian's Captain Riker. That news made Guthrie wonder about Macen. Would the El-Aurian be included in that brief or would he sit in on Guthrie's report, or perhaps both?

Macen was escorted to the Senior Staff Briefing Room. There he found Riker gathered along with the assorted Starfleet captains. Limerick waved him in.

"Please Commander, join us," he said.

Seeing that there was an empty seat next to Riker, he opted to occupy it. Macen knew Limerick. Their paths had crossed on several occasions. Although the last intersection had been before Macen's imprisonment, back when he was still Captain of the Obsidian. The Elvin was obviously adapting to Riker's place in the center seat well enough.

Macen recognized Lt. Commander Rory McLean from the Troy. The ship's Second Officer was present because both Eneryo and Calig had remained aboard the doomed science ship. Captain Colin Becker represented the Karakorum. While the acting CO, Commander Bell Tone, stood in for the Zimbabwe. Tone was also one of the other Elvins in Starfleet. Commander Erin Miller sat in on the Persepolis' behalf. Miller's older sister, Shvaughn, was captain of the Carthage. It wasn't unheard of for siblings to be in similar positions within the fleet. What was unusual was for them to serve aboard identical starships in the same squadron.

"Commander Macen, Commander McLean has advised us as to Captain Eneryo's decision. Would you care to comment?" Limerick asked.

"I don't have any comments that would be fit to be put in a report," Macen admitted. While the chuckles and grim smiles faded, Macen interjected his real concern, "I think it would be best of Commander Guthrie were to join us. As the CO of the SOCOMM element his observations should be included."

Limerick paged Havelick and was distressed to discover she'd sidelined Guthrie. He demanded that the SOCOMM officer be brought to the briefing immediately. While that element seemed to escape the shell-shocked surveyor captains, Macen noted that Riker had also observed that the fractious command structure aboard the Hood had gone unchanged.

Havelick had served as XO for eight years. And for eight years she had "interpreted" Limerick's orders and intentions, usually to his chagrin. Most of the senior staff had moved on to higher posts on other commands but Havelick remained. And as long as she decided to pursue her agenda of what she thought was best for the captain, she would never move past being a First Officer.

A yeoman brought Guthrie in. The only open seat was between Macen and Shvaughn Miller. He hesitated and finally committed himself to taking a seat. His lapse had been noticed. Captain Miller gave him a wry look while her sister's eyebrows went up. Guthrie ignored them and reflected.

Macen was the only one who hadn't had a reaction to his hesitancy. Andrews' words rang silently through his head. Sindis' machinations had killed Joachim, not Macen. Macen had, in turn, killed Sindis at the cost of his wife's life. The man had atoned for his alleged crime. He himself had lost his husband during the Dominion War and had met Joachim when the younger Dracas had been brought to a grief counseling session to mourn his progenitor. Guthrie had stayed with the group to console the newly bereaved and it had literally been love at first sight between him and Joachim.

"Commander Guthrie?" Guthrie started as Limerick repeated himself for what was obviously at least the second time.

"Sorry. I was lost in thought," Guthrie admitted.

"Yes, we could tell," Limerick wryly observed, "Are you fit or do you require medical assistance?" The unspoken do you need a counselor? was conveyed as well.

"I'd just as soon stay, sir," Guthrie implored.

"Very well, what can you tell us about the opposing forces?" Limerick inquired.

Guthrie relayed his observations and then deferred them to Macen, "Commander Macen is the true expert. He's faced Iridians on more than one occasion. He and his team liberated my force and assisted us in retaking the Starfleet vessels."

"Very well. Thank you for your candor, Commander," Limerick turned to Macen, "We're all ears."

"The Iridians love a good gambit," Macen stated, "It's doubtful that they'll content themselves to merely responding in this singular star system. We should expect them to intercept us at the border."

"Why would they do that?" Becker asked, "Isn't that too little too late?"

"They appreciate a challenge," Macen calmly explained, "Giving us an out within our grasp makes their victory sweeter when they cut us off and execute us within sight of our goal."

"It should also be noted that the border is no longer an issue," Limerick informed them.

All eyes turned to him and he grimaced, "Iridian forces crossed the border four hours ago. They engaged the allied fleet. As of our last communication with Starfleet Command, the Enforcers had inflicted heavy damage and the fleet was virtually crippled. The viable elements of the fleet were making repairs in a race to beat the Enforcer elements in the same straits. Starfleet's Third Fleet was bound for them as was the entire Treasury Guard."

"Who needs the goddamn Ferengi?" McLean grumbled, "It's not like the helped out in the first place."

"That's not fair!" Captain Miller snapped, "My acting Chief Engineer is a Ferengi exchange officer as is my OPS Officer. Tolk and Blud are among the most conciencious officers under my command."

McLean bristled. Commander Miller spoke before he could, "What about the Cardassians and the Klingons?"

"The Klingons are scrambling what they can but with their heightened patrols along the Kinshayan border Starfleet isn't expecting much," Limerick responded.

"Shouldn't the Kinshaya be supporting their Typhon Pact allies along their borders with the Enforcers?" Bell Tone wondered, "After all, if the Iridians have attacked us, I doubt the Romulans and the Breen will escape unscathed."

"Our information is that simultaneous attacks were staged along the Romulan and Breen borders. Starfleet Intelligence estimates that it is a stratagem designed to cut off potential support from the Typhon Pact," Limerick passed along the assessment.

"The Iridians certainly don't understand the Typhon Pact," Commander Miller snorted, "They'd happily watch us fall and then dance on our graves."

"Maybe not," Macen interjected. All eyes snapped towards him and he ventured on, "The Typhon Pact sees the Iridians as a greater threat than the Federation and its allies. While it's true that the Pact would let us fend for ourselves in a straightforward contest of nations, they would also swoop in to pick the skeletons clean. They would fall on the depleted Enforcer fleet and secure one solar system after another while the Iridians recuperated. Taking them out before they can do that or ally themselves with us in an act of desperation is an appealing prospect."

The gathered commanders pondered that before Bell Tone asked, "What about the Cardassians?"

Becker had a Cardassian exchange officer as his XO just as Bell Tone had a Cardassian OPS Officer. Limerick took this into consideration as he explained that the Cardassian Militia was sending the Second and Fifth Orders to the Bajoran sector.

"Why is that?" Becker asked.

"Because a secondary force of Enforcers, shielded from sensor sweeps, gathered behind the invasion force. While the principle force fought us to a standstill, this secondary force deployed and his cutting a swathe across Federation space heading for Bajor," Limerick described the scene.

"The wormhole," Captain Miller breathed, "They're trying to contact the Dominion."

Limerick nodded, "Starfleet Command concurs. In the days up to this event, the Seventh Fleet was rebuilt and stationed at the mouth of the wormhole."

"What about Deep Space 9," McLean asked.

"DS9 is nearing completion in orbit around Bajor. It won't be back in place near the mouth of the wormhole in time to be of consequence. Attempting to move it there hasn't even been suggested," Limerick revealed.

"But the Defiant will be in place?" Macen asked.

Limerick knew of Macen's attachment to Ro so he felt a pang of guilt as he explained, "Captain Ro is the near space expert and dedicated commander of all defensive forces in Bajoran space."

"Do we know if the Iridians are aware of the status of the Dominion's borders?" Macen wondered.

"What do you mean?" Commander Miller asked. Seeing the reproving looks that she received she grew defensive, "What? Somebody had to ask it."

"What Commander Macen is reminding us of is that the Dominion closed its borders thirteen years ago. They haven't allowed any traffic in or out of their territory, commercial or military, since that time," Limerick stated.

"Then why do the Enforcers want to contact the Dominion?" Bell Tone wondered.

"Starfleet Intelligence's sources are highly limited but the suggestion is that the Enforcers feel they can present themselves as equals to the Founders and are willing to discuss an alliance to hand the Alpha and Beta Quadrants to a coalition of the Founders and the elusive Enforcer Masters," Limerick recited.

That subdued the tone of the room's occupants. Limerick attempted to rally them, "Captain Riker, Commanders Macen and Guthrie, I will now be debriefing my fellow officers. Riker and Macen, your crew complement is gathered in Cargo Bay Five. Commander Guthrie, I believe your people are still in the Squadron Briefing Room. My yeoman will show you to emergency bunking."

"If it's just the same..." Guthrie began.

"Commander, my Rascals need their briefing room back. Please vacate it," Limerick said as gently but firmly as possible.

"Yessir." Guthrie said crisply.

Macen and Riker held the lift for him as he exited the briefing room and crossed the aft section of the bridge. As the lift descended Guthrie turned to Macen, "Look, I was wrong about you. It took Andrews practically drop kicking me but I now realize you aren't responsible for Joachim's death. You actually killed Bertram Sindis and it cost you your wife. I guess he put us in the same position and we should find common ground."

He thrust out his hand, "You don't have to accept my peace offering but I'd be grateful if you did."

Macen gladly shook his hand as the lift stopped, "It's always a pleasure to work with you, Commander."

The doors opened and Guthrie exited. Macen and Riker continued on their way to the cargo bays. What they found was chaos. Security officers were stationed in the corridors, ostensibly to "assist" the newly arrived refugees but their true purpose was obvious to all.


The various Executive Officers handled crowd control and liaising with the ship's disaster relief coordinators. For the crew of the Troy, this task was made harder by the fact that their CO and XO were still aboard the crippled ship's futile struggle to bring her to life. With the Second Officer consulting with Captain Limerick, that left Lt. Sien, the Rigellian Vulcanoid Science Officer, in command.

Macen and Riker reported in with the coordinator assigned to Bay Five. She was an ensign and looked like she was just out of the Academy. Macen noted her frustration.

"Relax Ensign. Life will go one whether it's perfect or not," he grinned.

She mutely stared at him in shock for a moment and then a grin spread across her face, "Yes sir."

"Is everyone gathered, ensign?" Riker asked.

"Yes, I think so," she deflated, "Actually; no one is talking to me. A pair of women just came in from the Merrimack. They were tasked with recovering the Zimbabwe survivors."

Riker suddenly rushed into the cargo bay and the ensign yelped as he passed. Macen's smile disarmed her again, "His wife is probably one of those two women."

"Oh!" the ensign was surprised, "That makes sense."

"Did anyone else just arrive?" Macen tried not to get his hopes up to high, "From the Carthage?"

"Yessir. A runabout crew just delivered a group from the Carthage. One of them reported here," she informed him.

Macen broke into a grateful smile, "Thank you, ensign. I'll send Commander Forger out to confer with you."

"Thank you, sir," she called to his disappearing back, "It would be appreciated."


Rockford was unaccustomedly startled as arms swept her into them and she found a mouth upon hers. Recognizing Macen's taste and scent she gladly surrendered with a thought of ah, what the hell? She smiled giddily as he let her up for air.

"And here I thought Tom and Lees were making a scene," she teased.

"We could really make a scene," he hinted.

She laughed. It was a bubbling wellspring of her relief to see him again, "Calm down, big boy. There'll be time enough later. For now I just want you to hold me."

"As you wish, milady," he said as he tightened his embrace.

She gazed up at him, "You do realize that the Obsidian is gone?"

She saw sadness creep into his eyes, "She always did give her all for us."

This greatly amused Rockford, "You talk like the ship was alive."

"It's a captain thing," he retorted.

"But you haven't been captain for awhile now," she decided to pursue the matter, "I'm captain of my runabout. I don't think I'd even blink if it got blown up."

Macen smirked, "But you're a ground pounder at heart. Starships aren't your thing."

The look in her eyes told him he'd drawn a verbal saber with that comment. She riposted with, "And you're essentially an overblown analyst. So are you telling me you're grieving over your desk?"

"But it was a nice desk," he sniffled.

Rockford released a belly laugh, "I think we can get you a new one."

Grace had been observing all of this and decided now was the time to intervene, "Brin, will we get another ship?"

He met her imploring gaze, "You mean will we get another Nova-class ship?"

"Yeah, basically," she admitted.

"I doubt it," he answered honestly.

She was crestfallen and he gauged her reaction. Despite having stepped down as the Chief Helmsman, she still had an indelible love for the Obsidian. Or at least she'd had one. He decided to explain his comment.

"It's a question of supply and demand," he offered, "Starfleet has lowered the priorities for new Nova-class hull construction. No new civilian hulls have been built since the Borg invaded four years ago. The plain fact is no new Starfleet hulls have been constructed either."

Grace struggled with that reality, "But why?"

"With the threat of the Typhon Pact looming Starfleet had had to reactivate starships constructed fifty years ago. The Andorian succession took away some of those ships. This loss to the Enforcers only reduced the active forces even further. Starfleet is dedicating all of its shipbuilding resources into tactical cruisers. We can put in a request for a new surveyor but we'll be put in the queue with everyone else and that could take years to wade through."

"So this is it?" the anguish in her voice broke Macen's heart.

"We do have a ship in reserve, Hannah," Macen reminded her.

"Wha...what?" she stumbled over that concept.

"The Solstice is sitting in a hangar on Barrinor just waiting for somebody to fly her again," he offered a reassuring smile to go along with the news.

"But she's too small to handle the crew," Grace blurted.

Macen grinned. It was true. The Blackbird-class scoutship was designed to hold a crew of twenty-two, not the eighty members of the former crew of the Obsidian.

"We'd have to reduce the crew to fit the ship. Something along the lines of employing the team as crewmen and augmenting them with volunteers from the present crew," Macen eased her into his idea.

Her eyes went wide, "Who would be captain?"

"I was thinking that I would return to the fold," Macen said with an air of humility.

"Wait 'till I tell Rhiann!" Grace exclaimed and darted off.

"Hopefully Rhiann will be among the new crewmembers," Rockford murmured to Macen.

"She was on the list of prospective recruits," Macen divulged.

"This isn't some last minute back up plan," Rockford observed, "You've been mulling this over."

"I actually started thinking about it when I first got back to the team," Macen confessed.

"What about Tom?" she asked the obvious question.

Macen sighed, "Ideally he would have been left in place aboard the Obsidian."

"Well, that's not an option," she dryly remarked, "What's Plan B?"

"This isn't the first time Tom has lost a ship and crew. He doesn't take it well," he said. Rockford gave him an irked look to prod him into explaining further so he did, "I need to put him someplace where his talents are utilized but he can recuperate until he's ready to tackle command of a starship again."

"Logical," Rockford mused, "But where?"

A slight grin spread across Macen's face, "With Zyrain gone there's an opening aboard Serenity Station."

"You're kidding," Rockford deadpanned.

Macen shook his head, "The station needs a commander that can relate to the rigors the Outbound Ventures crews face every day."

"But I thought the top slot aboard the station was an administrator's post. That's basically a civilian's job," Rockford made her assessment.

"Not anymore," Macen advised her, "Kathy Tyrol made the administrator call and I went with it because I didn't see any imminent threats to the station. However, with the Romulans gunning for P'ris, and P'ris living aboard the station, that changes everything."

"Good point," Rockford conceded, "So when are you going to tell him?"

"Tomorrow when the sheer joy of seeing Lees alive has worn down a bit and the guilt has begun to creep in," Macen informed her.

"So he'll say 'yes' despite his better judgment," she surmised.

He grinned, "Something like that."

Rockford smirked, "You're a sneaky bastard. You know that?"

"Flattery will get you everywhere," he said with mock indignation.

"Oh, I know it," she said cunningly, "If we get a private room, we'll have a little I survived party and you can thank me afterwards."

Macen's expression was rife with Oh really? Rockford saw this and patted his cheek, "Trust me. I'll have you groveling for more."

He decided he liked the sound of that.


Chapter Twenty-One

Six hours after intervening, the Hood recovered her fighters and departed Atrocitus' solar system. Leaving at Warp 6, the Hood allowed the escorts to push out ahead. The gun slinging starships would be a fair match for any enemy ships encountered. The Hood was only fifteen minutes behind the Monitor and the Merrimack so she could rapidly reinforce their efforts with her own armament and her fighter wing.

The Troy still hadn't restored auxiliary power upon her siblings' departure. Minutes dragged on and became several hours before Limerick's Tactical Officer, Lt. Wreshander Ch'Aya, turned away from his board. The Andorian looked stricken.

Havelick was prowling around the bridge while Limerick exuded calm from the center seat. She saw Shan's distress and loudly inquired as to its nature. The Andorian informed the XO that he was receiving a distress call from the Troy. Havelick demanded that he put it on speakers.

Captain Eneryo could be heard shouting at whoever was listening to assist them. Screams could be heard behind her voice. There was a final series of screams and the signal died.

"There's nothing else, Commander," Shan reported with a ragged voice.

Limerick rose and surveyed his crew. Guilt shone on every face. They were all looking to him. Verity Jones carefully studied him. She'd been with the crew longer than anyone other than Havelick. She was also a commanding officer, albeit of a fighter wing. She knew the agony that Limerick must be feeling.

Limerick noted her empathetic gaze and nodded in her direction. That left Cho at OPS and Sanders at CONN. The other occupants of the bridge looked shell-shocked. Limerick knew he had to act or the crew would consume itself in its grief.

"The commander and crew of the Troy made their choice. Rather than exit an occupied system, they chose to risk it all for a crippled vessel. I would hope that this crew would not do likewise in similar circumstances. A ship is an object. It was once wisely said, 'Risk is our business.' And it is but I would trust that we would not take foolish risks for vainglorious causes. The remnant of the Troy's crew knew that this would probably be their fate. They knew that we could not support them yet they opted to go it alone. We will honor their memory and choose to overlook the rashness of their final choices. Carry on."

He turned to Havelick, "Commander, you have the bridge."

With that, Limerick went to his Ready Room, let the door close behind him, and he slumped behind his desk. The message light on his computer console flashed and Shan paged him, "Captain, you have a message coming in from the Merrimack."

"I'll take it in here," Limerick replied. He activated the screen and it went from its standard UFP symbol to an image of Captain Alec Prine looking for concerned.

"What can I do for you, Alec?" Limerick asked. He and Prine had worked closely together for years as Starfleet Intelligence's dedicated troubleshooters. Captain Hev Callas of the Monitor fleshed out their little group.

"I think the question is: what can I do for you, Merry?" Prine stipulated.

"I don't think that..." Limerick was suddenly cut off by Prine's sharp retort.

"Cut the crap, Merry. It was your call to leave Eneryo and her band of lunatics behind. That's got to be eating you up inside," Prine guessed.

Limerick sighed and sagged even further, "You have no idea."

"Look, Paige is running things over here and I can spare a few minutes but I think you have someone aboard that you really need to talk to," Prine suggested.

"I'm sure Counselor Wedge's staff is probably overloaded right now," Limerick replied.

"I'm not thinking of your ship's counseling staff," Prine dryly replied, "Right now you have a certain 'Listener' aboard. I think he could do wonders."

"Macen?" Limerick suddenly realized who Prine was referring to. Prine nodded and Limerick blurted out, "How could he help?"

Prine was decidedly amused, "Brin Macen lost his entire civilization, an entire insurrection, a career, several starships, and his wives. I think he could help you with coping."

Limerick mulled it over. After getting over Prine's usage of the term wives he began seeing the human's point. Macen had been dealing with life and death struggles for over eighty years that he knew of. As a commanding officer, he'd helped his people navigate the Delta and Beta Quadrants, he'd led an intel unit in the Maquis, he'd lost at least three aforementioned starships, and he'd endured losses at a highly personal level. Yet he kept going. He dealt with the losses and hadn't let them stop him. Rather, the misfortunes had caused him to flourish.

"I think I will talk to him. Thank you, Alec," Limerick decided.

"You can thank me by freeing up a member of your counseling staff and sending them my way," Prine requested.

"I'll talk to Lt. Wedge and see what I can arrange. Do you think Hev needs a counselor as well?" Limerick wondered.

Prine shook his head, "His crew is entirely Bajoran and they're all among the faithful. That got them through their time on the Resistance and I'm sure it'll do for now. Once we return to port I'll recommend to Hev that his people get assessed. He won't like it but he'll see it's done."

"I see," Limerick said with a tone that voiced his disapproval.

Prine grinned, "Rein in your prejudices, Merry. The Bajorans may be religious but they're also warm, caring people. Without their faith their culture never would have survived the Cardassian Occupation."

"I'll reserve judgment and bow before your expertise," Limerick slyly deferred.

"You're such an ass," Prine laughed.

Limerick playfully sniffed, "I am also senior in grade so you should be more respectful."

"That'll be the day," Prine scoffed, "Take care, Merry. Talk to Macen."

The screen reverted to the UFP seal and Limerick thought about it. Picard swore by the Guinan's skills. The El-Aurian bartender had left the civilian Starfleet Support Services Agency after the destruction of the Enterprise-D but she'd recently taken a position in an establishment located within Deep Space 3. She'd spent the intervening years at a bar called Sanguine on Beta IV.

Guinan had left Beta IV following the massive Borg invasion of four years ago. The colony had been destroyed by the Collective and only a handful of survivors had escaped destruction. While the Federation sought to rebuild the colony, Guinan had been severely shaken by her second near death encounter with the Borg. She'd departed for DS3 and never looked back.

The station's CO, Captain Alfonso Reyes, adored Guinan and sang her praises...sometimes quiet literally much to the chagrin of his paramour, Ro Laren. Ro was a close personal friend of Guinan's and made a point of seeing her every time she visited the station. Guinan in turn had toured Ro's commands, both old and new. Ro and Guinan had conspiratorially shared the opinion that the new, Bajoran designed station was a vast improvement over the Cardassian built Terok Nor turned Deep Space 9.

Limerick was familiar with Reyes. Reyes' grandfather was the infamous Commodore Diego Reyes of Starbase 47, also known as Vanguard, who violated the State Secrets Act and divulged the true mission of the Taurus Reach expansion. The uncensored account of Starfleet's encounter with the Shedai and Reyes' own authorization of the use of General Order 24 against the aliens had resulted in the extermination of all life on an M-class planet and the eradication of a Federation colony.

Diego Reyes had been court-martialed, stripped of rank, and sentenced to the New Zealand Penal Colony on Earth. The Klingons had liberated him, the Orions had given him sanctuary, and Lt. T'Prynn of Starfleet intelligence had arranged for his exile to Caldos. Alfonso Reyes had followed in his grandfather's footsteps, the first Reyes to enter Starfleet after the elder Reyes' fall from grace.

Alfonso Reyes had served aboard starships and space stations. He preferred space stations. His administrative talents made him a natural candidate for a station command of his own. As a Commander he'd led Starbase 52 for two years until he was promoted to Captain and offered any open slot that he desired. Commodore Westlake was stepping down at DS3 so Reyes leapt at the opportunity to serve there.

Deep Space 3 sat at the edge of the Federation's coreward frontier and it straddled the Romulan Neutral Zone. Life was rarely boring. Unlike his lady love, Reyes didn't have personal command of an auxiliary starship. Instead he had command authority over three starships assigned to his territory. They conducted exploration missions, colonial support missions, provided law enforcement, and protected the station. Reyes was more than happy with the arrangement since he knew he was out of his league on the bridge of a starship.

Given all of that, Reyes had surprised Limerick by not only seeking Guinan's advice but also heeding it on most occasions. The Elvin knew that Reyes was heavily influenced by Ro. Rumor had it the El-Aurian had only skipped out on moving to Deep Space 9 because of Quark. The Ferengi bar owner had become an institution aboard the station. He'd arrived while the Cardassians still administered the station and had stayed until its destruction. It was common knowledge that he'd already secured a billet aboard the new Prophet-class station.

Quark's had acquired such a reputation that the owner had been able to franchise his name. Of course, it helped that his brother was the Grand Nagus but it was also because Quark honestly cared about his patrons. Of course, a patron who felt appreciated was looser with their latinum. And Quark had a bottom line after all.

But Guinan had felt compelled to avoid competing with Quark so she'd enlisted Ro's help in seeking a new residence. Ro had guided her to DS3 and history had begun. Carrying letters of recommendation from Captains Picard and Riker as well as securing a personal appearance by Ro, Reyes had been persuaded to "suggest" to the owner of La Salsa that she hire Guinan. The owner had done so and now gratefully let Reyes and Ro dine for free.

Reyes had talked Limerick's curved ear off about Guinan. The Elvin knew all the usual fanciful tales about El-Aurians but there were so few of them left that he'd never encountered one for himself until he met Macen. Limerick had to admit that there was something to the man. Something that reminded him of the Elvin Elders. Elvins were a long lived race but they were in a separate class from El-Aurians. Limerick was over three hundred years old and was beginning to feel his age while Macen beat that by over a century and he was still in his prime.

But it was Macen's eyes that had seized Limerick's attention upon their first meeting. Macen's were alight with arcane knowledge. Macen knew things that he wasn't telling and his eyes twinkled with delight at the thought. They also shone with the clear light of experience. Macen had seen things no sentient deserved to see and yet he'd witnessed them and grown from them. Limerick could use that right now.

"Computer, locate Brin Macen," Limerick instructed.

The SID team's comm badges had been tied into the comm network and the Obsidian crewmen had been issued guest badges. The computer located Macen in the VIP quarters assigned to Riker and Danan. The Obsidian CO, along with the SID CO and the Starfleet captains, had been assigned to the VIP cabins aboard. Guthrie had declined one and had opted for the crew bunks set up in the cargo bays. The married couples had objected to the group arrangements but they'd basically been told to stow it until they arrived at Bajor.


The Hood, Monitor, and Merrimack had been ordered to the Bajoran Sector. Ro had fought the Enforcers to a near standstill but some of the Iridian ships made it through the wormhole. Admiral Jellico, acting as Starfleet C-in-C, ordered her to implode the wormhole despite the danger to the aliens dwelling within its realm. The so-called "Prophets" had once "removed" a Dominion fleet at Benjamin Sisko's request but there was no telling if they would do so again especially now that the Prophets no longer considered Sisko their Emissary.

Ro did as she was ordered and the wormhole permanently closed with a miasmic discharge of energy. The potential threat from the Dominion had been averted. From a practical point of view, it was no longer necessary to move DS9 out of Bajoran orbit and place it at the mouth of a wormhole that no longer existed. This meant the commerce directed at the station would also spill over to Bajor far more easily than before.

The Hood and her escorts had a thirteen hour transit before they reached Bajor. DS9 was up and running while engineering teams put in the finishing touches across the station. Admiral Leonard James Akaar, who'd overseen Ro's defense of the wormhole, was conducting an after action briefing aboard the station. Surviving elements of the Ninth Fleet would be present just as the Seventh Fleet would be represented. The Cardassians, Klingons, and Ferengi would all be there. Realistically Akaar, as Alpha Theater Commander, was seeking information so he could prosecute the next stage of this conflict. Limerick had learned Admiral Johnson and Ambassador Picard would be in attendance as well.

Limerick shoved aside the dark thoughts of war. All out conflict could still be averted. After all, that had been Johnson and Picard's mission. Of course, the Iridians had struck during the negotiations. Limerick dimly recalled something in human history of a group attacking another group at a location called Pearl Harbor during peace talks. He couldn't remember the nations states involved but he had visited the memorial while at the Academy on Earth.

As Limerick dimly recalled, the resultant conflict had yielded earth's Violent Atomic Age that had ended with their Third World War shortly before First Contact with the Vulcans. The war against the Dominion had not spurned the use of biogenic agents or other weapons of mass destruction but the Maquis conflict had. How Sisko had gotten away with unleashing a biogenic weapon, even in response to the Maquis' previous use of one, was beyond Limerick.

The Borg conflict had resulted in the proliferation of transphasic weapons. Like the slipstream drive, these weapons were entirely the purview of the Federation but it was only a matter of time before her allies, and her enemies, gained access to the technologies as well. Amongst the allies, the Cardassian Union was pressing hard and fast for technology transfers. Meanwhile, the Typhon Pact's best minds were working on the problem as well.

Limerick tried to shove such concerns aside for at least a few moments. He stepped out of his Ready Room and quietly conferred with Havelick and then he entered the turbolift and proceeded to Deck Five Section Eight. There, he found the cabin assigned to Tom Riker and his wife. If he'd known what was transpiring inside, he may have hesitated before touching the door chime.


"You want me to what?" Riker couldn't believe his ears, "You honestly want me to take over command of Serenity?"

"Yes," Macen calmly affirmed the request.

"It's a space station!" Riker yelped.

"I am aware of that," Macen dryly reminded him.

Danan and Rockford were staying very quiet. Danan remained silent because she knew Riker had to make this decision of his own accord. Rockford just felt Macen was better qualified to persuade Riker than she was. Her own history with the starship captain was rather turbulent owing to their conflicts while she led the SID team.

"I'm a starship captain," Riker insisted.

"But will you accept a starship command right now?" Macen asked as if he already knew the answer.

Riker blinked. The question caught him cold and Macen knew it. Riker looked to Danan with an imploring gaze. She smiled her encouragement but she already knew the answer as well.

"No," Riker admitted defeat, "Not yet." He shook his head in disgust, "Dammit."

"That's what I thought," Macen said in a neutral tone, "Tom, you're too vital of an asset to let lie around while you get your head back together and take command of another ship. Zyrain is gone and Serenity needs a new CO."

"But it's a civilian post," Riker countered.

"In case you hadn't noticed, Captain, you're also a civilian," Macen chuckled. Seeing a glint of acknowledgement in Riker's eyes, he pressed on, "Kathy and I agree that P'ris' presence and the Romulans' hard on for her militarizes the situation aboard Serenity. It has also become glaringly apparent that the station CO should also be familiar with the rigors that the Outbound Ventures crews face every day." Macen paused for effect and then added, "I'm not asking you to take permanent command. When you're ready to move on, we'll find a replacement for you and transfer you to a ship."

Macen suddenly smiled slyly, "And just so you know, the Indomitable has been assigned as the station's permanent protector. You'd be in command of her."

Riker suddenly smiled. He'd briefly commanded the Indie before his return to the Obsidian as her captain. The Indie had been constructed in an era where the "Escorts" weren't dedicated warships but rather smaller ships designed to draw fire off of the ships of the line. She was a tough little cookie and could slog it out with ships three times her size.

"I think I could live with that," Riker admitted. He began to seriously consider the option, "Who would be XO? Is Shannon going to be available?"

"Shannon already has a posting," Macen said gently.

"With whom?" Riker indignantly wanted to know.

"She's the newly appointed Exec aboard the Solstice," Macen supplied the answer.

"The Solstice?" it took Riker a moment to recall that Macen had arranged for a replacement for the first vessel that bore that name. She was even of the same class and had the same adaptations as the original. She was also Macen's personal command. He pointed at the El-Aurian, "Your ship?"

"Yup," Macen proudly said.

"Does she know what she's getting into?" Riker asked with some dismay.

Macen smirked, "She did serve as my XO for a couple of years before I was, shall we say, relieved of command?" Seeing that Riker's concerns were not alleviated, he pressed on; "Shannon's father ran the shipyards that designed and produced the Blackbird-class. She's been weaned on stories about them."

Riker had to grudgingly concede that there were plenty of those. The scoutships had served on the frontier between the Cardassian Union and the Federation during the Border Wars. When the war with the Tzenkethi broke out, the scouts served at the forefront of that conflict as well. Despite their small size, they were in fact twenty meters shorter than the Defiant-class ships; they were rugged and highly formidable. It had taken a ship class the caliber of the Saber-class to replace them.

Macen had first gained control of a Blackbird-class scout with the civilian registry of the NDR-17017 SS Odyssey when he stole the ship from a Section 31 bone yard. That move had begun the brief conflict between himself and S31. The Odyssey served as Macen's command throughout the bulk of the Maquis conflict. She'd been pressed into Starfleet service as the SID's first undercover vessel. She'd also been subsequently destroyed on her first mission.

Macen's team had briefly utilized a Ju'day-class raider such as those used by Chakotay, Michael Eddington, and Ro Laren. It was then that Riker had been brought into the team as the ship's captain. That vessel too had been destroyed. The original Solstice had been brought into play at that point. She'd died rescuing Macen and T'Kir from the Orion Syndicate. She'd been replaced not only by a namesake but also by the Obsidian.

The Obsidian became the team's primary asset while the Solstice was subsequently relegated to secondary duties as Macen's personal ship. She'd seen action in the Cell 51 crisis and occasionally when Macen took her on a jaunt. Riker knew of Starfleet's desperate recommissioning of any and all vessels they could lay their hands on. Intellectually he'd known that their getting a new vessel was a slim hope. It just seemed strange to have the Solstice back in action again.

"Can I at least have Parva as my Chief of Operations?" Riker whined.

"Nope," Macen grinned.

"Gilan?" Riker was getting desperate now.

"'Fraid not," Macen lipped off, "Let me save you some time. Besides the aforementioned staff, Jaycee and Edwin have also signed on."

Riker just stared at him. Macen offered him a bone, "At least Gerrit Gren is available for Chief of Security. The station needs a new chief now that Delequoi is retiring."

"Gee, thanks," Riker grumbled.

"Chris is available for Chief of Operations," Macen reminded him.

Frankly, Riker had never considered Christino ard'Vret. The Andorian rubbed him the wrong way. But Parva sang his praises so he couldn't be all bad.

"I'll take it under consideration. Now what about an Exec?" Riker wondered.

Macen and Rockford looked at Danan. She gaped at them. When her husband added the weight of his imploring gaze she held up her hands in awarding gesture, "Ohhh no. I'm done with that bull crap. I'm a scientist, specifically I'm a stellar cartographer, leave it at that."

"The only problem is that Serenity's home system is pretty much mapped out. So is everything around it until you hit the Black Cluster and the Breen Confederacy," Macen sagely reminded her.

Danan gave him a cold glare and then she met Riker's eyes. She heaved her shoulders and sighed, "All right, damn you. I'll do it.

Riker rose and swept her up into a bear hug. After extricating herself from his embrace she distanced herself from him. Stabbing a finger into his chest she declared, "But you're doing your own goddamn paperwork."

"Of course," he said blithely.

She shot him the stink eye, "Don't 'of course' me. Shannon told me what kind of shape the personnel records were in when she took over."

He held up his hands in surrender, "Hey, I was First Officer and pretty much the acting Captain before she took over. I didn't have time to keep meticulous files."

"Yeah, yeah," Danan said scornfully, "Somehow Shannon manages to."

"Well, Shannon is...unusual in several areas," Riker said defensively.

"Here we go again," Danan rolled her eyes.

"What?" Riker was trying to figure out what he'd said.

"Never mind. As long as you're not judging her by her penis," Danan asserted.

"I never thought I'd hear anyone say that," Riker muttered.

"Thomas William Riker!" Danan scolded him.

Riker hung his head. There were some days when he just couldn't win. James T. Kirk was dead wrong. There were no win scenarios.

The door chimed and Riker opened it and Limerick stood outside, "Am I interrupting?"

"No," Riker gratefully replied even as Danan said, "Yes," from within the quarters.

"How can I help you?" Riker inquired.

"Actually I'm looking for Commander Macen," Limerick hesitated.

"Actually, he's taking command of a ship so he'd be 'Captain' again," Riker said helpfully.

"I see, but is he inside?" Limerick asked.

Macen shouldered past Riker, "How can I help you, Merry?"

"Do you have time to talk?" Limerick wondered.

"I have nothing but," Macen replied, "Shall we move to your quarters?"

Limerick nodded, "I think that would be best."

"After you," Macen smiled and then he turned and addressed the occupants of the VIP cabin, "Try to leave him alive, ladies."

The door closed and Riker turned around to realize that Rockford had suddenly taken Danan's side and they both looked as though they wanted to rip him a new one. He looked towards the ceiling, "No one said it would be easy."


Chapter Twenty-Two

The Hood and her escorts arrived safely at Deep Space 9. Roughly seventy-five percent of the station was habitable at that point. Ops was functioning and the habitat sections were fully equipped. The remaining work was being done on the defensive systems and the cargo areas surrounding the docking rings.

"Rings" was the operative word. The Prophet-class design had been inspired by the Immense-class stations. The station's core was similar to Spacedock's centralized design. But like the Immense-class stations it had gantries that led to saucer-like pods. There were four pods stretching forth from fifty meters below the lower lip of the mushroom styled shroud that housed the Ops dome and the interior Starfleet docking facilities.

Below the docking pods were a ring of dry-dock style construction housings ringing the shaft that comprised the length of the station. Its core was equal in proportions to Spacedock and its gantries stretched out to widen its scope even more. The new Deep Space 9 was easily the largest space station the Federation had ever built and with the collapse of the wormhole, Starfleet Command and the Federation Council had to be questioning the wisdom behind its construction.

Politically, it had been an uphill battle to get construction authorized in the first place. The Bajorans shamed the Federation Council's Appropriations Committee into action by declaring they would build a station even if Starfleet didn't. Councilor Adoman Thrax vehemently opposed constructing a new station and had advocated that the system's traffic control duties be placed on Bajor. He was humiliated into recanting that position when he was confronted with the plain fact that the station had been destroyed by the Argyn. The same Argyn his nephew Adolae had provoked into a violent conflict that had reduced the already decimated Starfleet forces by another half. The very same Captain Adolae Thrax that Adoman had used his position to blackmail Starfleet into promoting his nephew well above and beyond his natural ability. A series of promotions that had cost thousands of lives.

Thrax knuckled under and DS9 was built. The Bajorans still saw the station has having a completely viable purpose. Their solar system represented the outer edge of the Federation's territory in the Alpha Quadrant. As such, the station served as a hub of exploration and colonization. A dozen Starfleet vessels had set out from Bajor over the last few weeks, led by Captain Data and the Enterprise-E, and were moving beyond Cardassian and Bajoran territory into the unknown. Then-Commander Sisko and his crew had ventured out that way despite pressure to explore the Gamma Quadrant. The reports from the exploration effort were already yielding potential friends and trade agreements.

The Cardassians were pursuing rapprochement with the unconquered worlds on their borders while the Ferengi were busy plundering their pocket books. In the areas beyond Bajor the Ferengi were dogging the heels of the Starfleet explorers. Even the Cardassians were joining in. The situation had so destabilized First Contact with dozens of worlds that President Bacco was holding side meetings with Castellan Rekena Garan and Grand Nagus Rom while dealing with the Iridian incursion and its fallout.

Martok seemed content to merely sit back and glower with the human drew a line in the proverbial sand. Starfleet Intelligence had contacts within Federation Security, namely Alyssa Munroe's sharing Elias Vaughn's bed, so the news out of the meeting of the Chiefs of the Khitomer Accords was beginning to look grim. Both the Cardassian Castellan and her Ferengi counterpart insisted that their activities were "due" them for agreeing to the alliance in the first place. If there were to be no rewards for joining, then why should they stay?

That attitude had spread through Central Command and the Treasury Guard. Akaar met with Legate Macet and Treasurer Fob as well as with General Kritok of the Klingon Defense Force. Each of them brought their subordinates. Admiral Nechayev sat in as well with her aide, Commander Prentiss. Admiral Johnson sat out but Picard represented the Federation Diplomatic Corps. Ro represented Starfleet's assets in the local area.


Admiral Johnson joined Admiral Amanda Forger in a special meeting attended by Captains Limerick, Prine, and Hev. The CO's of the obliterated Tenochtitlan force were debriefed by specially selected Starfleet Intelligence officers. Afterwards, Macen and Riker were personally debriefed by Forger.

"Jesus Brin, another ship lost?" Forger grimaced, "And another change up for your team as you go back to the Solstice?"

"It actually fits our cover better than the Obsidian," Macen countered, "The rest of the corporate ship handlers utilize decommissioned Starfleet hulls from the same era as the Blackbird-class. Why should our group be excluded?"

Forger hated to admit that he had a point. The Outbound Ventures crews used Starfleet starships dating from the Earth years 2305 to 2330 so having them use the Blackbird-class scoutship whose design dated from 2318 made perfect sense. She also knew that the Solstice had been completely refitted since its days as the USS Charon in Starfleet service.

The Solstice could exceed Warp 8, which was its designed limitation. It possessed a Class 4 Klingon cloaking device and, unlike its previous brethren, had atmospheric maneuvering and landing capabilities. Coupled with a state of the art sensor platform, the ship was quite formidable.

"And I suppose you'll be captain of the ship again?" Forger warily inquired.

"Yup," Macen happily confirmed it.

"Damn," Forger muttered. Seeing she was being observed she straightened out, "How soon can your group be operational again?"

"We do need a ride back to Barrinor," Macen quipped, "That's where the Solstice is being stored."

Forger looked nonplussed and then Macen grinned, "The crew can ride back aboard the Corsair."

Forger glanced over at Johnson, "How does that fit in with McKinley's timetable?"

Johnson wore a slight grin, "Jellico already cut Jim's orders. The Intrepid is to ferry Jean-Luc and I to the Enforcer's Gamma Base on Tekik."

Tekik was a world within the Enforcer Territories. It was twenty light years beyond the former border that existed before the Enforcers' recent expansion. The primary that Tekik orbited around was labeled LTXR-423337691-B by Federation stellar cartographers. It was a G1 yellow mainline star paired with a K9 orange giant. Tekik orbited its star in one hundred eighty-nine standard days with a six day period of tidal unrest as the planet passed between the binary pair of stars.

The gamma base on the world served as a theater command. It had long been suspected that an Enforcer Master might be stationed there. When Riker questioned the wisdom of sending yet another diplomatic mission in the wake of the last treacherous disaster, Forger opted to share these details.

Johnson also filled in a few blanks, "The Iridians asked for these talks. They accepted our offer before but this time the imitative came from them."

"And why is that?" Macen inquired. Seeing the admirals' irked reactions, he amended his statement, "Hypothetically?"

Forger cast a wary eye Riker's way, "What I'm about to disclose doesn't leave this room. Got it?"

"Don't look at me," Riker huffed, "I understand operational security. Talk to Lover Boy here that blabs everything to his girlfriends."

Forger shifted her glare to Macen, who refused to wilt; "Much to Celeste's relief, I refrain from telling her anything she isn't cleared for."

"Are you certain? Will she try to get it out of you later?" Forger demanded to know.

"Despite everyone's expectations to the contrary, Celeste isn't T'Kir. She can control her curiosity and she doesn't share a telepathic rapport with me. She understands operational security better than Tom," Macen said with an edge to his voice, "What's with the fifth degree, Amanda? Celeste ran the team during my imprisonment."

"And that factor, among others, got your team derailed to the sidelines," Forger finally admitted what Macen had long suspected.

Knowing that he was one of those factors, Riker took umbrage with her depreciative tone, "Now see here...!"

"Captain, you were the one that refused every mission offered you," Forger coolly reminded him, "You didn't want to work for Starfleet and you received what you asked for. Don't play the martyred soul now."

"Let's clarify something here, Amanda. You've been against my team since I was sent to the penal colony and you have been hostile ever since I was freed. You arranged for my Letter of Marque to be reissued and you reinstated me to the SID roster. Since these facts are in evidence, what is causing you to be a royal pain in the ass?" Macen suddenly interjected.

"You were convicted of murder, Brin. That speaks for itself," Forger retorted.

"It was also overturned," Macen reminded her.

"On a technicality. You were convicted of killing Bertram Sindis not his clone. You didn't kill Sindis but you did kill the clone in a rather cold blooded fashion according to eyewitnesses and your own statements. You were freed only because Starfleet's evidence against you was so tampered with that another conviction was a sketchy proposition," Forger grated.

"And then you sent me to kill Sindis. So what's your moral quandary here? That he died or that I got caught in the first attempt?" Macen decided to seek clarification.

"Getting caught was damn sloppy!" Forger snapped, "How'm I supposed to trust you now?"

A knowing grin spread across Macen's features, "So it wasn't the act. It was getting caught."

Forger squirmed and Johnson looked decidedly uncomfortable with the conversation. Bob Johnson dealt with the law abiding portion of the Federation not the slogging through the filth and mud that the SID typically dealt with. It was a long drop from the lofty heights to the gutter.

Johnson cast a sideways glance at Forger. She grimaced, "You know murder or attempts of murder are illegal. You were never contracted to kill Sindis."

"No, I was told to use any and all means necessary to neutralize him," Macen recalled, "There aren't many gray areas to be found there."

Johnson tried to suppress a smirk as Forger flushed at being openly caught at issuing blatantly illegal orders. Both Forger and her mentor, Alynna Nechayev, frequently skirted illegality in their operations. Nechayev's Starfleet Intelligence was overseen by a special commission within the Federation Council as well as direct oversight from the C-in-C and the Council of 5, a body that both Forger and Nechayev belonged to.

The SID only answered to Nechayev and the Council. This gave the organization great latitude. It seemed that perhaps it had a little too much discretion. Johnson decided not to pursue the matter now but perhaps it was time the Council as a whole reviewed the SID's recent actions. Lord knew Johnson's own mentor, Starfleet Security Director Edward Noyce, had wanted to do so for some time now. Only Johnson and Akaar's ambivalence had kept Noyce from pouncing.

Johnson still wasn't quite certain where Akaar would fall on the matter. The Capellan seemed to give Nechayev and her protégé wide berth. Perhaps it was the circumstances of his own birth but Akaar seemed more accepting of certain irregularities than his predecessors in his position. Jellico was his direct antecedent in the post of Alpha Quadrant Theater Commander. Jellico had moved to the top slot afterwards. Many expected Akaar to follow Jellico's path as well.

Jellico hadn't fared well as Starfleet C-in-C. The Borg had attempted to annihilate all sentient life in the Federation shortly after his taking office. The Typhon Pact had been forged in fire and constantly threatened the interests and security of the Federation. The Argyn had struck mere months ago pushing an already shaky Starfleet teetering towards the edge of destruction.

Although, Jellico had suggested vital concessions that President Bacco had utilized to secure the Cardassian Union and the Ferengi Alliance's signing the Khitomer Accords treaty. Jellico's own hard won experience with the Cardassians had proved invaluable in dealing with Castellan Garan. Captain Sisko had provided insights into Grand Nagus Rom's character and interests. Rom had greatly surprised Bacco and the Federation negotiators by being quite an atypical Ferengi. Of course, the mere fact that he had a Bajoran wife should have been an obvious clue to that effect.

Johnson's thoughts shifted back to the present day's concerns when Forger growled, "I don't think Admiral Johnson wants or needs to review that particular contract."

Macen flashed her an Oh really? look that Johnson inwardly echoed. She shook her head, "This may come as a surprise to you but you can be replaced. You spent two years on a penal colony and the SID got along without you."

"Yet the very first thing you did upon my release was to personally come and pick me up, reinstate me, and give me the contract to deal with Sindis," Macen reminded her, "It truly does seem I'm no longer needed."

Macen rose and started to exit the briefing room and Forger called after him, "Sit down, you prima donna. All right, you're needed. At least for one more contract."

Macen sat down and looked to Riker, "Can't you just feel the love?"

"Brin, this is serious," Forger implored. She reached over to a stack of padds that were near her elbow and she slid one to Macen. Another went to Johnson. Riker waited expectantly but then he realized that he wasn't getting one.

"Sorry Captain. But you're no longer a starship commander. Since Serenity Station won't be involved that means you're time with us here today is over," Forger formally declared.

Riker just stared at her and she adopted a rueful expression, "That means you're dismissed."

Riker looked wounded as he excused himself. Macen watched his friend's back as he withdrew. The El-Aurian gave Forger a scolding look, "You could've been a little nicer."

Forger rolled her eyes, "It's bad enough that I have to coddle you. I don't have the time or energy to make Thomas Riker feel good."

Macen's stare intensified. Forger sighed, "I'll send him a fruit basket, okay?"

"It's a start," Macen conceded.

"If that crisis has been averted, can we get down to business?" Forger wanted to know.

"I have a question," Johnson suddenly announced.

Forger looked pained, "Shoot."

"Who came up with this plan?" Johnson incredulously wondered.

"Admirals Jellico and Nechayev came up with the basics. I fleshed it out as new details came in, like the destruction of the Obsidian," she shot Macen a glare.

"Hey, I wasn't even aboard her when she was immolated," Macen pointed out the obvious.

"Harrumph," Forger retorted, "You're to blame for it though. I just can't prove it yet."

"She wasn't even my ship anymore," Macen shot across her bow, "Why would I want her destroyed?"

"To get your own command," Forger accused, "You've been hanging on to the Solstice for years just in case this happened."

"You have to remember she came in handy during the Cell 51 crisis," Macen pointed out.

Johnson grinned. He owed his freedom and his life to that ship. But he wisely understood now was not the time to rehash that particular history.

Forger looked pained, "Yes, she did come in handy. The question is: is she up to this task?"

Macen smiled, "Even better than the Obsidian would be. Remember, the Solstice has a Klingon cloaking device."

"Which directly violates the Treaty of Algeron," Johnson mused.

Macen's smile grew, "But she's not a Starfleet vessel. She's a civilian scout and like most civilian ships she's in violation of a regulation or two."

Johnson put his fist to his mouth to hide his sudden grin. Forger hung her head. Were all of her operational secrets going to be laid bare today? In front of a tentative ally at best?

Johnson decided to console Forger, "Don't worry, Amanda. I won't report you." He shot a bemused look towards Macen, "Or you."

"You should've thought that way when I decided not to kill you, contrary to orders," Macen bantered.

"Duly noted," Johnson allowed despite feeling Macen should have tried harder to keep Felkor III out of the Typhon Pact's grasp. Then again, the Pact announced their presence in the system by decloaking a flotilla. The Intrepid and the Obsidian were simply outgunned and the incident could have led to an all out war.

"Can we get back to business?" Forger plaintively asked.


An hour later, they'd hammered out the details of the proposed mission. Macen was given a second padd. This one with his contract to undertake the mission which he accepted on the spot. He then went in search of his teammates and crew. They were to depart within a two hour window.

Ro intercepted him as he was wandering about the new Promenade, "What do you think?"

He stepped and graced her with a smile. He could hear the pride in her voice. Not only that she had a new command but he suspected that part of it was the pride that all Bajorans felt at the station being designed by one of their own. The Bajorans had never designed and built a space station even before the Cardassian Occupation. Terok Nor had grudgingly become accepted as Deep Space 9 out of practicality. But a lot of national pride had gone into this creation and deservedly so. He told her as much.

"Starfleet's thinking of using the design in new locations in lieu of the old Immense-class." Ro said with a ready grin.

"I hear you did good work today, Captain," Macen never tired of emphasizing her rank. Despite her holding it in the Maquis, she'd only been a Starfleet lieutenant at the time. Ro had been grateful to reach lt. commander and then surprised to achieve the rank of commander. With that promotion had come command of the old DS9. Captain had seemed out of her grasp to her despite everyone else rather expecting it.

"I could say the same, Captain," Ro grinned. Seeing Macen's surprise, "I ran into Celeste and she let me in on the news."

"I thought you didn't like her," Macen admitted.

"No, I didn't trust her. That's changed," Ro confessed, "So, another Blackbird-class ship? That should dredge up memories.

"Have no fears, Laren, I know full well that the Maquis are dead and gone. I won't be haring around the galaxy looking for lost causes to defend," Macen promised.

"No more than you already do," she teased with a smirk. She grew serious, "A little bird told me you have a new contract behind enemy lines."

"And who told you that?" Macen wondered who he was supposed to chastise.

Ro laughed as though she could read his thoughts, "It was Admiral Nechayev, so you can take it up with her."

Macen grinned. Okay, so maybe she could read his thoughts, "Point taken." He also grew serious, "Seeing as how you've seen Celeste, do you know where my little lost lambs are?"

She chuckled, "Follow me. It'll give me a chance to show off the new digs to you."

"Lead on and I shall follow," Macen said theatrically.

She rolled her eyes, "If only you'd been this compliant in the Maquis."

He grinned, "Where's the fun in that?"


Chapter Twenty-Three

Tessa had also been saved before the Obsidian was destroyed. The EMH program was constantly being backed up on an isolinear rod and Galen 3 rushed to Sickbay to retrieve it when the evacuation order was given. Riker had been very relieved to hear of it but then became angry as Macen explained to him that she would now be serving aboard the Solstice.

"You've had holographic projectors installed aboard the Solstice?" Riker growled, "How long have you been planning this move?"

"For awhile," Macen confessed.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" Riker thundered.

The rest of the Corsair's passengers were staying out of the runabout's modular Sickbay while the two CO's fought it out. Not even Danan and Rockford were in their company. The two had mutually agreed that the guys needed to hash it out their own way. Although, Brin is armed and Tom isn't, Rockford mused to herself. Danan's face betrayed her thoughts in that direction.

"You don't need Tessa aboard Serenity. You have Kort as your CMO. Also, the Infirmary isn't equipped with holoprojectors. Only Quark's has any," Macen reasoned it out for him.

"It isn't a matter of need, dammit! I would've liked to have an option," Riker insisted, "You already stole Shannon and Rhiann. I won't even get into Jaycee or Edwin's defection."

Macen gave him a rueful look, "I approached them after the Obsidian was destroyed and we were all barracked aboard the Hood. They want this opportunity. You didn't even have a command lined up yet so how is that stealing from you?"

"Stop being so damn logical!" Riker demanded, "I can never win an argument with you."

"And that's what this is really about, isn't it?" Macen inquired.

"Maybe," Riker said sulkily.

"Your day will come, Tom. You just need to react less and analyze more before thrusting your opinions out there. As my XO and as CO of the Obsidian you were in positions where you ultimately shared authority. You won't have that aboard Serenity. You'll be the final arbitrator of policy. Of course, there will be cases where you can bounce things off of Kathy to see what the corporation's official position is but for the day in, day out sort of thing, it'll be incumbent upon you," Macen shared, "Do you think you're ready for that?"

"Do you?" Riker sniped.

"Actually, I do," Macen surprised him; "You've been ready for some time. That's why sharing ultimate responsibility was awkward. You're your own man, Tom Riker. It's time you recognized yourself as such."

"But my solo commands were utter failures," Riker bemoaned.

"You let the ghosts of the SID team linger with you. Learn to let go and accept your current command as entirely your own," Macen urged, "Great things can happen if you do."

Riker mulled it over. What Macen said made sense. There were elements of what he'd said that Riker wanted to argue with but he recognized the truth upon hearing it. Even aboard the George Kelly and the Indomitable, Riker had looked through a lens shaped by his experiences with the SID. It was time to let go and embrace the future. Commanding Serenity might revolutionize his life.

He grinned, "Okay, I'm in."

"All in?" Macen used one of Riker's poker euphemisms.

Riker chuckled. He knew Macen hated poker for the simple reason that El-Aurians were barred from every casino across the Federation. They were allowed to play the roulette wheels or dabo, but anything involving people who could be "read", strictly forbidden.

"Yes, I'm all in," Riker assured him.

"Okay, now that that's settled, maybe we can alleviate the crews' concerns by making a joint appearance," Macen said dryly.

"Did they really think we'd come to blows?" Riker asked with good humor.

"I think the prevalent theory was that I'd gun down an unarmed man," Macen offered.

"Would you?" Riker was curious.

"In a heartbeat," Macen admitted.


Riker and Danan said their farewells from the dual transporter pads in the Corsair's cockpit. Forger hugged Riker goodbye while Danan and Macen embraced. The others said formal farewells and wished each other well. The couple was transported to the transporter pads in Serenity's Ops module. Riker assumed command within moments of arrival and ushered in a new era as he announced that Danan was the new Executive Officer.

Chris had accompanied the crew and he beamed over as soon as the commanding duo exited the transporter pads. Rhiann had a quiet word with him before he departed to assume his role as Chief of Operations for the station. Grace waited until they'd received acknowledgement of the safe transfers and then she set course for Barrinor.

Odin, the planet Serenity orbited, was the fifth planet in the system while Barrinor was the third. Barrinor lay in the heart of the habitable zone while Odin skirted its outer edge. The former colony of Barrinor had been inducted into the Federation as a member planet after resisting the Colonial Affairs Office for years. The settlers' perseverance paid off with full membership.

Odin, which had been colonized nearly a century after Barrinor, had accepted control from the Colonial Affairs Office. The colony was only marginally supported by its elder sibling so Federation support was appreciated. On Barrinor it was felt that Odin should never have supported anything more substantial than mining camps. Odin's settlers vehemently disagreed.

Outbound Ventures had played politics when it built its station over Odin. Although a perennial favorite amongst Barrinoran politicians, the move ruffled a lot of feathers. Forcing Outbound Ventures' corporate HQ off of Barrinor had been debated by the Barrinoran Senate.

In the end, cooler heads had seen that the corporation and its affiliated Security Alliance Academy were good of the safety and well being of the planet. After all, who needed a militia when you had an academy fill of eager security agents and a small squadron of ships based within your home system?


The Corsair settled down on the landing pad within Outbound Ventures' private strip. The runabout descended into the "ground", which was revealed to be a massive hangar area. The roof above them sealed and the passengers waited for the runabout's journey to end.

The bay controller signaled the "all clear" and Grace ran through her procedural. Finally, she released the primary hatch. The former crew of the Obsidian piled out and the first thing they saw was the Solstice sitting alone at the opposite end of the hangar. None of them had ever served aboard a ship of her class.

Upon first impression, it looked like a diminutive hybrid between the Excelsior- and Ambassador-classes. They walked around the ship and took in the sights. She had five small phaser strips whereas the typical scout boasted phaser banks. She had two photon launchers recessed in the forward section of the saucer-like command section. The rear of the engineering hull also had a single launcher. Rhiann noted the hatches underneath the saucer, which combined with the lack shuttle hatches in the engineering hull, meant that it was meant for shuttles. Given their size, it most likely meant they were dealing with shuttlepods.

Macen tapped his comm badge and authorized the ship's computer to initiate a transport. The SID appeared in the transporter room and they cleared the pads. The crew swiftly appeared as well. Macen took them on a guided tour.

The transporter room was on Deck Three, behind the Sickbay and before you hit the upper end of the warp core. Beyond the core was the storage compartments. He then took them to Deck Two which supported all of the crew's quarters. The ship was designed to support six officers and sixteen crewmen. Officers got the largest quarters.

Macen laid claim to his quarters and Rockford laid claim to him. Daggit and Parva settled in nicely. Forger and McMasters decided to formalize things a bit and moved in together. Grace, P'ris, and Radil claimed the rest of officer's country. Telrik, Miller, Zimbalist, Gilan, and Rhiann chose five of the remaining eight cabins which were designed to accommodate two crewmen each. That still left three cabins for guests.

Macen uploaded the uniform patterns from the Outbound Ventures database. He thought about throwing in a variant especially for SID members but Rockford talked him out of it. She reminded him that they were all Outbound Ventures personnel and Outbound Ventures personnel wore the green paneled uniforms. He smiled and kissed her while he thanked her.

He started to head for the door when she caught his arm. She wore a sly grin, "Hold on there. I don't think you've properly thanked me yet."

He smirked, "We're on a schedule but I think we can spare a moment or two to indulge."

"Damn straight. I...mmm..." she found his mouth on hers and she melted into the accompanying embrace.

She leaned back, "Okay, I'm satisfied...for now. Let's get this tour back underway."

They stepped out to discover that Parva had already led Gilan and McMasters to Engineering. Radil volunteered to escort Telrik back to Deck Three and the transporter room. Everyone else went to the bridge.

The Solstice's bridge was laid out like a Galaxy-class starship's Battle Bridge. At the fore, right in front of the main viewer, sat OPS and CONN. In the center of the space was the Command Chair. This boasted two add-on display panels to either side of it in a way borrowed from the Defiant-class.

Behind the command chair the deck elevated to a slight platform. Directly behind the CO was a railing dividing the two halves of the bridge. Dead center of that was the Tactical console. To either side of it were Science and Engineering. Miller manned the board while Daggit gave her a couple quick pointers.

Tucked away to the starboard side of the rear deck was the Library interface. Rockford took up her assigned position there. It was tied into all of the sensor feeds as well as the ship's library. Being connected to the comm relay, it could access subspace networks and planetary databases.

Grace proceeded to the CONN. Rhiann followed and reviewed its layout as she sat at the station. Grace patted her shoulder and moved away.

Next to CONN sat OPS. P'ris stood over Zimbalist's shoulder while he brought the board to life. The Romulan's shipboard duties included serving at this station. Zimbalist gave her a quick rundown and then she retreated.

The SID team had arrived on the bridge in one lift load. The crew had come up in the second pass. When they arrived Macen announced that they, not the SID team, would be lifting the Solstice into the air and launching her into space.

While everyone conferred, Forger quietly approached Macen, "You're certain you want us to do this?"

Macen smiled, "Why the case of nerves, Shannon? When you were my XO you practically ran the ship. What's so hard about doing so in a ship half the size of the Obsidian?"

"I perused some the specs on this ship class on our way here. I've noticed that we only match half of them. Mostly the cosmetic, exterior stuff. What gives?" she wanted to know.

"The SPYards refitted this ship to my specifications. The Obsidian was pretty much left in factory condition. This baby is a technical miracle," he shared.

"You sound as though you like her better than you did the Obsidian," Forger sounded hurt.

"I respected her but she was the company's ship. This beauty was built specifically for me. Besides I have a lot of time in this ship class," he told her.

"I read what I could find on the Odyssey and the original Solstice. Even the company's confidential files were pretty Spartan. I suppose Starfleet has the details?" she said wistfully.

"I'll see what I can get vetted and hand to you," he promised.

She brightened. Flopping down into the command chair she ordered everyone, "Clear the bridge. If you're not at a station then get off my deck."

Macen cleared his throat and she gave him a sheepish grin, "Captains excluded, of course."

"I'll be in my Ready Room," he grinned back.

"You have a Ready Room?" Forger yelped, "Where?"

"Check your specs. It used to be a briefing room," he said as he collected Rockford and opened the sliding door in the opposite side of the bridge.

"How come I don't get an office?" Forger grumped to no one in particular. Galvanizing herself, she began issuing order, "OPS, contact Bay Control and get us a lift clearance. CONN, raise a traffic controller and get us a priority transit through the system."

"What's our destination?" Rhiann asked.

"File a path to Tekik," Forger declared.


"So...this is cozy," Rockford commented as she beheld the space.

"The design is straight out of the XO's Office inside an Intrepid-class," Macen revealed.

Rockford took a seat on the couch to the CO's right, "So when are you going to wine and dine me?"

"And who says I can?" he smirked.

She pointed past his shoulder, "That kind sir is a replicator. It can dispense any number of wonderful things."

"And you think I should use it?" he playfully taunted.

"I don't have to think, I know," she asserted.

"Then what would you like?" he inquired.

Her first response made him blush and she laughed as he tried to regain his composure, "Now that was worth it!"

"Okay, what would you really like?" he managed to ask.

"How do you know that my first request isn't an honest one?" she innocently wondered.

He gave her the look and she found it adorable, "Give me the usual."

He ordered one vanilla caramel latte and handed it over and then ordered one for himself. She sipped it and she was startled, "It knew about the whipped cream. Replicators never know about the cream."

"Just like Roberta makes," he gloated.

"All right, you smug bastard, how did the replicator know?" she asked.

"I've been downloading our personal recipes for months," he explained.

"But we've either been aboard the Obsidian or Serenity," she protested.

"And they're on the corporate network," Macen said with a flourish.

"Tom was right. You have been planning this for awhile," she surmised.

"I first got the idea when I was on the penal colony. Coming back to the Obsidian just proved to me that my time there was done," Macen shared.

"When were you going to tell me?" she quietly asked.

"Tom asked that same question," he jested.

"Dammit Brin!" she snapped, "When were you going tell me?"

"I was going to tell you when we got back from the last mission. The Obsidian's destruction juts advanced my timetable," he shared.

"You were going to tell me. We weren't going to discuss it," it was statement not a question.

"Celeste, I love you more than life itself but I learned the hard way not to share command decisions. I learned that through Tom and through T'Kir," Macen confessed.

"T'Kir? But she was your partner," Rockford sought clarification.

"She was my business partner and my domestic partner. I placed her in the deputy commander role. That was a mistake. She was ill suited to the task and it cost the team," Macen explained.

"But I'm your domestic partner and I'm your deputy. How is that different?" she wondered.

"You're qualified to be the deputy. I'd make you the deputy even if we weren't involved," he stated.

"We're also business partners," she accused.

"I'm a partner in your detective agency. I'm only that through my controlling share of Outbound Ventures. That hardly makes a real partner," Macen countered.

"Would you make me a business partner?" she asked.

"If we were to be married, you would receive fifty percent of my share in Outbound Ventures and thereby increase your controlling interest in the Rockford Agency," Macen divulged.

"Why do I sense a big 'if?" she inquired.

"We've never discussed marriage. I wasn't certain you'd want to," Macen stated.

"Discuss it or actually do it?" she wondered.

"Both," he admitted.

"Okay, let's discuss it. I'll go first. Do I want to get married? Hell, yeah. I wanted to get married years ago but the war against Tarsus got in the way. That and my fiancé called in government forces and had me dragged off to prison. No scars there. Nossiree." She frowned, "But that doesn't answer your ultimate question. Do I want to marry you? You're an eager participant in the emotional cascade that we experience during sex. Hasn't that shone you anything?"

"I wasn't sure I was interperating the signs right," he admitted.

"That's fear talking. You've been married twice to my never. The first marriage was to a psychotic bitch, from all accounts. And your second marriage was wonderful. If T'Kir was still alive, we wouldn't be having this conversation," Rockford laid it out for him.

"May I remind you that T'Kir is alive again," Macen said primly.

Rockford rolled her eyes, "Doesn't count. They scrambled her brains or something. Anyway, the point is, I love you. Even better than that idiot that had me drug off in chains. I wanted to marry that sorry sack of shit so why wouldn't I want to marry you?"

"I could..." he started to say before she cut him off.

"Oh shut up and admit that you love me," she snapped.

"You know I do," He stressed to her.

"And do you want to spend the rest of your life with me?" she ticked off her finger.

"You know I do," he said.

"Then shut up already. Get on one knee and propose, you dunce," she demanded.

"Now?" he wondered.

She glared at him, "What did I say about shutting up? You're gonna ruin the moment."

Macen moved from behind the desk and knelt before her, "Would you do me the honor of being my wife? I want to spend the rest of your life supporting you when you need support and relaying upon you to get my back. I love that you 'get' me and that I understand you. I want that to last until death itself separates us."

She made a show of thinking about it. She hemmed and hawed until he started to actually get worried and then she smiled beatifically, "Of course I say 'yes.'"

Macen rose and then leaned in and kissed her. He pulled back and she caressed his face. She wore a bemused expression, "'I want to spend the rest of your life with you'?"

He shrugged, "I'm going to outlive you be a few hundred years."

She shook her head and chuckled, "There's always something."

"It seems it's to be a day of big announcements," Macen mused.

"Let's not distract the youngin's while they fly the ship for the first time," Rockford suggested.

"So any ideas on how to celebrate?" Macen wondered.

Her eyes twinkled, "I think you're creative enough to handle that on your own. However, be that as it may, I'm going sit on your lap and we're going to plan a wedding and a honeymoon."

"You do realize that your employers at the time made my last wedding a living hell?" he asked.

Rockford blushed. She'd worked for the Orion Syndicate at the time. Later she'd personally come for Macen and T'Kir while they were on their honeymoon. That little escapade had ended up with the happy couple being executed. Yet somehow they came back to life through means no one could explain.

"Maybe I'd better handle the wedding. I'll have so much security locking the venue down a gnat won't get in if it's not invited," she declared.

"Just remember, we want a wedding not an occupation," he reminded her.

"You're certainly no fun," she pouted.

"Tell me that again later," he grinned.

"Oho! You're going to try and redeem yourself," she was pleased, "Good luck with that."

"You'd be a lot more intimidating if you weren't glowing," Macen dryly remarked.

"I am not glowing," she protested, "I don't glow."

Macen adjusted the viewer mounted on the desk's comp/comm. It displayed a picture of the intertwined couple. Rockford studied it.

"Damn," she breathed, "I am glowing."

"Expect more of that through the years to come," Macen warned her.

Rockford rolled her eyes, "You're just saying that because you expect to get some later tonight."

"I'm saying that because I love you and want to make you happy," Macen promised.

She let out a little sigh and then looked at the monitor again, "Oh hell. Now I'm really glowing."

"Oh, the terrible burden of happiness," Macen teased.

"Hey, I could get used to this glowing business. Don't create a monster unless you can satisfy the beast," she warned.

"You know how I like a challenge," he said and he kissed her neck.

"Who said you could stop?" she imperiously inquired.

"Call it a taste of things to come," he consoled her.

"Humph, and I was just getting in the mood to glow like a landing light," Rockford mock complained.

"If you remember, you wanted to plan a wedding," he informed her.

"And a honeymoon," she prompted him.

"Of course," he conceded. He could see the beginning of something wonderful taking shape here today. He'd taken a risk in letting Rockford into his heart and the rewards now outweighed the risks by such a margin he couldn't imagine why he'd been hesitant to begin with.


Chapter Twenty-Four

"How'd they squeeze an NX warp core in here?" McMasters wondered as he took in the sight of the single deck engineering compartment. Engineering dominated Deck Four. The only thing below them on Deck Five was the antideuterium tanks and the main deflector array.

"It makes sense though," Gilan said. Seeing McMasters' annoyance, he added; "The core was designed for the Defiant-class which only has four decks to our five. Of course, they spare a deck by recessing Deck One into the hull and merging it with Deck Two."

"And I suppose you've worked on one of those?" McMasters asked sourly.

Gilan offered him a peaceable smile, "My time in Starfleet only lasted one tour. And I was an enlisted rating to boot. I served aboard a Yeager-class cruiser. I must've done something right because the Outbound Ventures recruiter took one look at my record and she signed me up. It was just my luck that I got sent to the Obsidian."

Parva snorted and Gilan cast a bemused expression her way, "Something you'd care to add, Chief?"

"You came aboard the Obsidian because I made sure you came aboard. I wasn't about to let someone with your aptitude escape my grasp," she divulged.

Gilan brightened, "Thank you, Chief. That means a lot."

"Okay, that tell tale means the bridge is requesting power. Let's start this bad boy up and get ready for spaceflight," Parva began to order. Gilan went to the matter/antimatter injector relays and began setting levels. She saw that McMasters was loitering.

"Just don't stand there!" she snapped, "Make yourself useful. You've almost as much time in this ship class as I do."

That startled McMasters. The only way she'd know that was if she'd accessed his Starfleet record...his Starfleet criminal record. He'd worked on Macen's Odyssey on occasion. He'd taken her to the edge of her capabilities but that was a far cry from what he was seeing here. The Odyssey, which was set at design performance specs, had never been intended for atmospheric or landing operations. That certainly wasn't the case with the Solstice.

"Stand by on the warp plasma injectors and prepare to infuse the nacelles on my command. As soon as these yahoos break orbit they're going to want to run hard and fast," Parva declared. Seeing her troops weren't moving fast enough she added, "Well? I used to run this compartment on my own."

A sudden thought struck her, "In fact. I'm not here. See ya."

She exited and Gilan looked to McMasters, "You ready?"

McMasters grinned, "As ever."

The launch was successful and Macen congratulated everyone. Upon discovering that Parva had left Gilan and McMasters to their own devices, he sent a special note to her, thanking her for her efforts. Of course, the message was left in her in-box since neither she nor Daggit were answering their comms. A sure sign they were breaking in the bed, the couch, the floor, and anything else they could straddle in their shared quarters.

Macen and Rockford travelled to Deck Three and saw that Telrik was off exploring since he was on-call staff. The SID team would handle the First Watch and the crew would handle the Second watch. But the Second Watch crew would also cover for the SID team when they deployed.

McMasters was the only SID team member not on the First Watch. Parva, as Chief Engineer, covered Engineering during that watch. It had been agreed that the SID Engineering Specialist could choose his hours in order to better accommodate his girlfriend's sleeping schedule.

Macen and Rockford then reported in to Sickbay. It was the largest compartment on Deck Three. It wasn't as spacious as the Obsidian's sickbay but it was still large compared to the Corsair's twin medical modules.

Macen inserted an isolinear rod into the appropriate slot and uploaded the program. He then verbally activated the EMH. Tessa appeared and she seemed confused

"What happened? Where am I? This isn't my sickbay," real terror tinged her voice.

"It's all right, Tessa," Macen said calmly, "The Obsidian was destroyed and we transferred your program to a new ship."

"What about Galen 3?" she was on the verge of panic.

Rockford intervened. She moved to Tessa's side and took hold of the EMH's left arm with her left hand and gingerly touched Tessa's back with her right, "Galen's alive. He's aboard Serenity."

"Why isn't he here?" Tessa's eyes brimmed with tears.

"Because he wasn't needed," Macen shared, "Galen 3 is on-call for missions where his skill set will be needed."

"But you never knew when his skills would be needed before," Tessa said plaintively.

Rockford shot him a glare. She turned to Tessa and said, "Will you excuse us for a moment?"

"Of course," Tessa winked out of existence.

Rockford's fists became firmly planted in her hips, "So why wasn't Galen 3 invited?"

Macen's shoulders slumped in defeat, "It was an oversight. I was so used to Lees being on the team I just sort of forgot that we needed to replace her skill set."

"Okay, that's honest enough. I'm calling her back and you are promising to get Galen 3 aboard as soon as we make port. Got it?" Rockford insisted.

Macen smiled wanly, "Yes, ma'am."

"Good. 'Cause I'd hate to have to kill you before we get married. Afterwards? Fine. Then I get the corporation," she declared.

Macen knew she was teasing to soften her demands. He didn't take orders well but bantering? He thrived around it.

Rockford reactivated Tessa's program and she reappeared, "Can he come aboard?"

"As soon as we return to Serenity I'll have him permanently transferred," Macen vowed.

Tessa ran up to him and kissed his cheek, "Thank you!" She settled down and looked confused, "Do I still address you as 'Commander'?"

Macen chuckled, "No, I'm captain of the Solstice."

"Is that the ship we're aboard?" she wondered.

"Yes, you're still tied into the ship's database so you can pull up everything about her," Macen said encouragingly.

"Am I back to being stuck in Sickbay all the time?" Tessa whined.

"No, I had holoprojectors installed throughout the ship. You're free to go where you please. Why don't you study the ship's layout while you take a tour?" Macen suggested.

Tessa's head bobbed, "Okay. I'll do that."

She headed for the door and hesitated at the threshold. Rockford called after her, "Go ahead. Nothing bad will happen."

Tessa ventured forth and then shot down the hallway. Rockford looked to Macen, "I didn't just lie to her, did I?"

Macen grinned, "She's safe enough. Want to check out the cafeteria?"

"No Team Room?" she mused.

"Not enough room," he said ruefully, "The space will only accommodate ten people at a time.

"No chef either I take it," she ventured.

"Didn't I just mention there was no space?" Macen teased.

"Look pal., a covert operations team fights on its stomach. If we get nothing but replicator hash we're gonna do poorly," she warned.

"And what would you suggest?" he was honestly interested.

"We need live food," Rockford duly informed him.

"Live food?" he asked.

"Fruits and veggies, dope," she clarified, "A replicator can do a lot of things but it can't reproduce a carrot or an apple worth spit," she argued.

"Check the stasis chamber when we get in there," he said smugly.

She eyeballed him. He was far too confident so she knew something was up. The stasis chamber resembled a walk in freezer so it deactivated its field when she opened the door and stepped in. Lining this larder were produce from dozens of worlds. Also included was a pallet with lidded trays stacked atop it.

"What's that?" she inquired.

Macen smirked, "You're the detective. Find out for yourself."

"Don't be a wiseass," Rockford drolly warned him. She lifted the lid of the closest tray. Her eyes went wide with delight, "Eggs?"

"Uh huh," Macen's grin grew, "There's four trays to a level and each tray has a different kind of egg."

"You've gotta be kidding me," Rockford was at a loss.

"And that final door opens to reveal trays of fresh fish from a dozen worlds," he boasted, "I had to hit or miss the fish because there's so many kinds but hopefully there will be something for everyone.

"Have I told you lately that I love you?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes, but I could always stand to hear it again," he said smugly.

"Okay, I love you but if you don't lose the attitude I will flatten you," she decided to share.

Macen smiled warmly, "I got it. Now, would you like it if I made you an omelet?"

"There's a hot plate?" she asked skeptically.

"There's a full range and oven. There are also steamers available," his smirk threatened to make another appearance.

Rockford recognized it for what it was, "I swear if you smirk one more time we are done."

"Duly warned, now clear out so I can get the ingredients," he insisted.

"By hand?" it was her turn to smirk.

He pulled a cloth bag off of a hook, "With this, silly. Now scoot!"

She raised her hands in surrender, "Okay, I'm gone."


The watches were twelve hours long. The Second Watch stood slightly longer since they'd begun early. The First Watch was on duty when the Solstice approached the disputed border. Forger had called Macen in for a quick conference with Reyes as they passed DS3.

Macen didn't discuss the bulk of the conversation with her but he did share a Starfleet report on Enforcer traffic near the border. The Enforcers had reinforced the border regions. Since the total number of Enforcer forces was unknown, no one could estimate how many of their active units had been dispatched to the forward areas.

Reports from the Typhon Pact indicated that the coalition had repulsed the Enforcer invaders. However, the Iridians were expected to send more units to the region. The Typhon Pact, drawing on resources from closer nations, had surged several fleets passed the disputed borders and were now marching into the Enforcer Territories.

The Breen and the Tzenkethi were attacking from the Alpha Quadrant and the Romulans, Gorn, Tholians, and Kinshaya were staging from the Beta Quadrant. Starfleet Intelligence had unconfirmed reports that the Andergani had set out with their Tzenkethi neighbors. There was no sign that the Andergani were being considered for full membership within the coalition of stellar nations but their participation in a major campaign would earn them future consideration.

Grace manned the helm while P'ris sat at OPS. The Romulan's outer appearance was tranquil but Macen suspected that it was a façade. For all of P'ris' acclaimed familiarity with Starfleet systems, this was her first real test with it when her life could be on the line. Macen chuckled to himself. She should have seen the board in its original configuration before he had it replaced and modernized with a LCARS style interface.

"Sensors indicate that two Enforcer ships are crossing the border to intercept us," P'ris reported.

"Subtle," Rockford could be heard quipping from the Library station.

"Rab, what's the status of the cloak?" Macen inquired.

"Parva looked at it like you asked and reported in an hour ago," Daggit relayed.

"And she said...?" Macen prompted.

"It's fully functional," Daggit simply said.

"Then turn it on," Macen ordered, "Hannah, you know the drill."

"Yay-boy," she retorted and began a series of evasive patterns.

P'ris swiveled her seat around so that she could face Macen, "Do we know if the Enforcers can penetrate a Klingon cloak?"

Macen wore a slight smile, "We're about to find out."

That certainly didn't do anything to settle her nerves.


The Solstice slipped past the interceptors undetected. The journey to Tekik also passed with the scoutship remaining unmolested by the scant patrols that it encountered. The dearth of patrols was the highlight of Macen's reports to Admiral Forger.

The Enforcers seemed to have a great deal of ships on the border but little depth in their forward positions. Subspace communications traffic was detected between the front and the rear but it remained to be seen how far back the rear extended. The extent of the Enforcers' presence at Tekik would answer a great many questions.

The approach to the planet began with dropping to impulse at the edge of the solar system. The gravitational pull of the binary pair of stars made that distance quite lengthy. Grace vectored them for an approach towards LTXR-423337691-B and the planets revolving around it, particularly Tekik. As they approached the outermost planet orbiting the G1 yellow star, they reduced speed to half impulse.

The approach took several hours. The Second watch was on stand-by as the First Watch stayed on duty for the approach. Several frigates were on patrol. In the inner solar system, three lights cruisers and a heavy stayed in Tekik's periphery.

Tekik itself was a Class K world. The Iridians had colonized the world through the use of pressure domes. It had begun as a mining concern but when the rare ores were tapped out, the Enforcers had seen the strategic value of the planet. Rumors abounded that dilithium had been found there recently. Colonists had arrived over the course of several decades and bolstered the second generation of colonists that had arisen from the original miners. A third generation was now reaching adolescence.

Macen ordered that the cloak be dropped when they reached the inner planets. Grace had swung them behind the sixth planet of the eighteen planet system. The Solstice became visible for Tekik's tracking sensors. Traffic Control immediately contacted them.

Macen dealt with a traffic controller while Grace kept their course steady and true. There was a high probably that at least one of the cruisers would intercept them and escort them in. Macen was bounced to the controller's supervisor.

The supervisor in turn contacted a military superior. In the end, the Solstice crews' civilian credentials were accepted as was their falsified contract with a Ferengi consortium to scout out potential markets. The ease of their being accepted indicated to Macen that while the Obsidian had been flagged by the Enforcers, the Solstice was an unknown element. It also showed that Outbound Ventures had not been blacklisted, only the Obsidian.

It was also apparent that despite having received the Solstice's crew manifest, it hadn't raised any red flags. When asked if the Solstice would be making a planet fall Macen's negative reply seemed to reassure the traffic officials. After all, transporters could be cut off far more easily than a starship.

Traffic Control plotted them a course and an orbital insertion. Macen summoned the Second Watch at long last. Forger questioned the wisdom of going down to the surface without getting some rest first. Macen thanked her for her concern but ordered her to summon Telrik to the transporter room.

Forger hesitated, "What happens if you need back up?"

"The USS Intrepid is orbiting the opposite side of the planet. Admiral Johnson and Ambassador Picard are on the surface dealing with an Iridian negotiator. If things go badly, I'm sure Captain McKinley could spare a few security officers," Macen paused and then grinned, "Especially since the Chief of Security's wife is coming to the surface with us."

"Damn skippy," Grace piped up.

Macen cast a wry look Grace's way but she was utterly unrepentant. He carried on, "The Enforcers will be closely watching the diplomatic conference and the Intrepid. That'll give us some leeway."

"But what's the mission?" Forger asked at long last.

"It's better you don't know just in case we get caught," Macen replied.

"Damn," she muttered.

Macen turned. He'd heard the turbolift cycle as it took people to Deck Three and the armory next to the transporter room. Only Rockford and Grace still waited for him.

"Ready to get this show on the road, Boss?" Rockford grinned.

"If we must, we must," he said with mock regret.

"Just keep thinking that," Rockford teased as the lift doors closed.


Chapter Twenty-Five

The SID team transported to the surface. Telrik received the destination coordinates and aimed at the transporter pads the targeting sensors detected. Macen and the team solidified to find themselves surrounded by armed guards. More to the point, the guards had their rifles trained on the newcomers.

The only Iridian not wearing an Enforcer uniform and armor wore a slightly smug smile as he stepped forward and spoke, "Your universal translators are capable of translating my speech, are they not?"

"We have the general speech matrix commercially available in the Ferengi Alliance. Our employers said it was the most advanced model in the Alpha Quadrant," Macen answered.

"Yes, they like to think so," the Iridian smirked, "I am Facilitator Gendik. I am assigned to your crew in order to explain and illustrate the commercial ventures on Tekik." He cast a wry glance their way, "I see you came armed?"

"It was our understanding that such things are permitted within the Enforcer Territories," Macen said, "And I understand that piracy is at an all time high while your forces are otherwise disposed."

Gendik mulled that over and then he broke into a genuine smile for the first time, "Delicately put. Assume you are the ship's captain?"

"Yes, my name is Macen." He confirmed it.

Gendik held up a data slate, "Yes, I have your crew manifest. As I check off your names please hold up a hand."

He went through the list and then turned his attention to other matters, "The rules regarding personal weaponry are fairly simple. You can only employ them in self defense. And by self defense the regulations clearly specify that you can fire when fired upon. Unless of course, the one doing the firing is an Enforcer. Returning fire at military personnel is cause for execution. Are there any questions?"

No one spoke so Gendik moved on, "Please follow me in an orderly fashion and we can take a tour of some of the domes."

Macen motioned for the team to follow and they fell into step with Gendik. The Enforcers stayed in place in order to terrorize the next arrivals. It was mundane but Macen had a hint that they enjoyed it very much.

The Iridian base and colonies were composed of geodesic half domes. These were interconnected by mag rail train lines running inside of access tunnels. Roadways and pedestrian thoroughfares also ran through the tunnels. The domes were made of transparent aluminum triangular panels supported by a composite hull framework. The frame was composed of layers of toranuim, polyduranium, and kelindine.

The hatches and pressure doors that could close off ruptured hull areas were also composed of similar materials. Airlocks led to the exterior. The structures were bolstered by integrity fields and external shielding that deflect weapons fire as well as meteorites. Tekik's atmosphere was primarily composed of carbon dioxide. Terraforming efforts were underway and atmospheric generator plants were distinguishable by their towers stretching into the sky. Plant life, molds, and fungi had been introduced into the biota. Fauna would follow as the atmosphere thickened and became breathable by most carbon based life.

The interior of the domes was built up to the edges of the half sphere. Little space was wasted. It also meant there were no atmospheric transports within the domes. External shuttles served as mass transit for the Enforcers from dome to dome. In the interior of the colonial outposts they used wheeled vehicles. Such vehicles could also be sealed up and utilized outside the domes as well. The only military personnel found aboard the trains were the handful of troops assigned to a train for a day.

The overpopulated housing grid reminded Macen of a week he spent on Gideon. Gideon's population had been comparatively thinned by the reintroduction of disease into the biosphere by Macen's hero, James T. Kirk. The planet still boasted a population of over twenty billion souls. Macen couldn't imagine what it had been like before if that were merely the surviving fraction.

Tekik closely resembled many other colonies across the Federation built upon Class K planets. Mars was among the more famous of those worlds. Closer to home, Barrinor had been a Class L, or marginal, world before it had been terraformed. The planet had only boasted sparse vegetation before being settled.

In the same system, Serenity orbited Odin. Odin was a Class P, or glaciated, world. It earned that designator by having eighty percent of its surface covered with water ice. Delta Vega in the 40 Eridani A system was another famed example of such a world within the UFP.

Gendik took them through the warrens of the colony, "imaginatively" designated Dome One. Rockford and Grace suppressed their urge to snicker upon the announcement of the name. P'ris exchanged a wry glance with Macen. She was obviously amused by the pervading military sensibilities that overshadowed the colony. Likewise, it amused Macen that Daggit, Radil, and McMasters didn't even bat an eye at the name.

"I was under the impression that this was a military colony," Macen shared with Gendik.

This amused Gendik, "Tekik is under a military governor. You will have already undoubtedly noted that many non-Iridians populate this colony. A strict military colony would be restricted along racial lines. The labor classes are necessary for our livelihood just as the Enforcers are necessary for our protection."

He went to an information kiosk and inputted his access code. Manipulating the display until it showed all sixteen domes of the colony, he related that only a few domes were restricted for strict military usage. One was the governmental dome and one was a troops barracks. Macen pointed to one dome in particular. It was offset from the colony and appeared to be an iridescent star burst in comparison to the rest of the domes.

The faceted surface of the domes already gave them a gem-like quality but this went above and beyond that. Gendik saw which dome was being touted and he chuckled, "That's Dome Sixteen. It is an area devoted to recreational pastimes and among those pastimes are the arts. The exterior effect that you're seeing is a result of the multi-hued panes that comprise the dome's surface."

"Can we see it?" Macen asked.

"Of course. I can direct the computer to give us a tour," Gendik allowed.

"No," Macen countered him, "I mean can we go there?"

Gendik frowned, "I'm afraid not. Only military personnel are allowed to enter in and use the facilities."

"But you said that artists contributed there," Rockford honed in on the subject.

"There is no artisan class amongst my people. Such dregs are considered wastrels. The Enforcer personnel are granted access to express themselves when they are off-duty. High Command finds that this helps relax our troops," Gendik explained.


While Macen and Rockford were engaged with Gendik, P'ris observed the tour. Grace was also absorbed by it. Daggit and Radil assessed the area in tactical terms. McMasters seemed intent on some grating in the floor.

"Excuse me," P'ris interrupted Gendik's conversation, "Why isn't there any green in any of these works?"

Macen and Rockford took note of the display and even Daggit and Radil's ears perked up. P'ris was right. Brilliant reds, burnt oranges, vibrant yellows, sky blues, bright purples, and earth tones dominated the varied works but there was an absolute dearth of green.

Gendik smiled, "My people cannot see this ephemeral color 'green'. It has been described to us by many client nations but we've never seen it for ourselves."

"Facilitator Gendik, what color are the shoulder panels of our uniform?" Macen wondered.

Gendik looked troubled, as though he were about to be tricked into giving away something. Macen gave him a reassuring nod, "You can go on. I'm not trying to trick you. The panels are what we call 'green'."

Gendik nodded his understanding, "But I see it as what you would call a 'muddy brown'."

"Rather like the terrain outside?" Macen inquired.

"Very similar," Gendik seemed amused by the questions, "Now if you would follow me into our commercial district, I can introduce you to the Commerce Guild."

"I'm surprised the governor allows guilds within the colony's boundaries," Rockford commented, "After all, a guild represents a challenge to his or her authority, however modest that may be."

"True, but the merchants know their place," Gendik sniffed.

Rockford exchanged a rueful glance with Macen.


The meeting with the guild served to reinforce the team's cover and also repaid the Ferengi who'd arranged for it in the first place. Macen had a selection of topics to discuss and he went down the padd's list item by item. Rockford joined in out of sheer curiosity and P'ris also began to explore items of interest to her. Macen suspected they were lines of inquiry that might prove useful later on in the mission but then again, she may have only been planning on selling the data to a Romulan trade alliance.

Romulan traders and merchants didn't form guilds but they did establish alliances. Alliances left maneuvering room for all of the participants to capitalize upon mistakes of the other allies without fear of restraint or repercussion. Every member of the alliance sought the same thing: maximum profit for minimal expenditure.

P'ris didn't know how thoroughly Macen had researched her background. She was a kinswoman of the Deridian Noble House. It was a family line that stretched all the way back to the Sundering. They'd been princes on Vulcan before throwing in with those fleeing Surak's reforms.

He knew she was related to the Romulan Commander that engaged the Enterprise under James T. Kirk's command. That was when the Imperial Fleet was actively testing the cloaking device by attacking the observation posts located along the Neutral Zone. His brother had later defected to the Federation and settled on Shial. He'd married T'Kir's mother and become his ex-wife's stepfather.

He also knew that T'Kir was his legal heir in the Star Empire. That made her head of the House and the closest living heir to the throne. Donatra undoubtedly knew this as well. Macen had few doubts that Sela was using her position as Proconsul to spur the Tal Shiar into tracking T'Kir's every move.

P'ris was further down the line of succession but she's still been targeted. Of course, her covert activities as a dissident had been suspected but her status as a hero of the Romulan people had protected her until Sela convinced Donatra to strike. Neither the Empress nor her Proconsul had been prepared for P'ris' escape. Surprisingly, rumors within the Star Empire placed the blame on Sela's underestimation of P'ris' skills.

P'ris' safety still concerned him. Despite the pervading threat that the Enforcers posed for the Khitomer Accords and the Typhon Pact, Sela wouldn't let her mistake to go uncorrected. Her agents wpould strike again and next time they would be prepared.


Serenity was the home port for the Outbound Ventures fleet but it was also a commercial hub. All of the aid pouring into Odin came through the station just as the colony's products flowed out into the Federation through Serenity's cargo bays.

Of course the KX-class station orbiting Barrinor was being decommissioned in lieu of a Starfleet tending station. When Barrinor Station ceased operations it would throw all of its commercial traffic Serenity's way. The Starfleet station had been estimated to begin construction a year ago. With the cumulative losses to the Borg, the Argyn, and now the Enforcers, that schedule had been pushed back. The authorities on Barrinor had already exceeded the designed lifespan of the hundred and twenty year old station.

The station had to be decommissioned for internal and structural safety reasons alone. Other issues were its inability to keep up with traffic demands. Too many ships wanted to dock and the station's personnel couldn't process them fast enough. Shuttles flitted in and out with hardly any supervision. The whole operation was a disaster waiting to happen.

With all of the extra traffic that would filter through Serenity's corridors, hired assassins would have plenty of opportunities. Macen and P'ris had briefly mentioned this to Riker en route to Barrinor. Riker admitted he needed to brush up on a Nor-class station's security features. His new Security Chief, Gerrit Gren, was stepping up from Deputy Chief of Security aboard the Obsidian to a well deserved promotion.

Gerrit had briefly served aboard DS9 when he was with the Bajoran Militia so he was familiar with a Nor-class station's layout. Outbound Ventures had added security measures that weren't in the original design. After the Night Coven's massacre, even more modifications and additions had been made. The staff had also tripled in size.

Kathy Tyrol had sent Macen a casualty list while he was on Earth during P'ris' debrief. The guards, despite some having prior professional experience, had lost a third of their number. Recruiting was underway but Starfleet was already tapping their usual resources. Starfleet Security was even recruiting out of Outbound Ventures' partnered Security Alliance Academy. Gerrit would be inheriting a mixed force of a few seasoned vets and a lot of snot nosed newbies straight out of training.

One bright spot had been the status report Riker had filed with Tyrol. All of the damages inflicted by the Romulans had been repaired. Tyrol had secured permission from Starfleet to augment the station's defensive capabilities in light of its growing importance in the sector. She'd negotiated a deal where a squad of Starfleet engineers would be posted aboard Serenity in the increasingly likely event Starfleet ships laid over for repairs. A small Security detachment would also be posted to enforce Federation law. They would coordinate with station security but would have jurisdiction over matters that extended beyond the local star system.

Gerrit Gren's ever expanding responsibilities would be compounded by P'ris' ongoing presence. He wondered about his ability to keep her safe. And he owed it to her to do so. She was more than a client and her newfound teammate. She was a trusted ally that had aided his efforts through the years. Their motives might have differed but the end result was a common denominator.


Gendik seemed pleased by their interaction with the merchants. It seemed to ease some of the doubts that had been clouding his judgment of them. The more Macen could lull him into complacency, the easier it would be to eventually strike. He needed to make some final preparations and then the team could move.

He approached Gendik, "Facilitator, is there a private location by which I could contact my ship?"

"Of course," Gendik started to usher him aside, "I take it you are finding things to your satisfaction?"

"Yes, the Ferengi trade association that employed us will undoubtedly find these results rather useful," Macen said smoothly.

'Tell me, Captain, why didn't the Ferengi personally approach us?" Gendik's question was benign on the surface but everything now hung in the balance.

"Bravery is not a common cultural trait amongst the Ferengi. Your forces attacked and crippled a Khitomer Accord fleet. Treasury Guard units from the Ferengi Alliance were part of that fleet. They believe war can be profitable, but only to those selling the weapons, and quite frankly you don't need any," Macen relayed.

"Whereas we might strike out at them for being part of the force that impeded us," Gendik mused, "Yet instead they send you. You know, your reputation has preceded you. You featured prominently in Bertram Sindis' reports."

"Did I now?" Macen chuckled.

"However, there is a reason why Sindis was stripped of rank and title. He was prone to exaggeration and of taking action upon his own paranoid fantasies," Gendik paused and Macen halted as well as the Iridian appraised him once again, "Although...you did dispose of Sindis so you must be very good at what you do and what you do isn't this."

"You'd be surprised where my work takes me," Macen confided, "The Ferengi wanted someone who would take a risk they were unwilling to take themselves. Such deeds warrant great rewards. The company I founded operates a space station. That station needs weaponizing and reinforced defensive capabilities. The Ferengi may not be the bravest souls but they do export some of the finest armaments. Have you ever traded a favor for a favor?"

Gendik truly smiled for the first time, "I believe I understand you, Captain. Our research shows that you are no longer a military operative per se. I add the caveat because your most frequent employer is Starfleet. Point in fact, all of the Outbound Ventures fleet is regularly employed by Starfleet."

"And that will remain so while Starfleet is licking its wounds and understaffed and underequipped," Macen betrayed no confidence.

"Yet your former command was recently spotted near Atrocitus. Spotted and destroyed. I wonder what would compel Captain Riker to go there?" Gendik verbally fenced.

"Perhaps it was the hostage factor," Macen retorted.

"You acquaint the detainment of spies with taking hostages?" Gendik asked.

Macen smiled, "I'm beginning to see that you function extends beyond a mere 'facilitator'."

Gendik bowed his head, "Then shall we dispense with the formalities. Your visitation has only been allowed because Command has no proof you were personally involved with the action at Atrocitus. Reports of your movements since your release from imprisonment have been sketchy at best. And strangely enough, there were no witnesses from the Enforcer garrison on Atrocitus."

"Why not?" Macen played innocent.

"Because there were no survivors amongst the cell block guards," Gendik admitted, "Rather convenient, isn't it?"

"I suppose," Macen allowed.

Gendik smirked, "Come now, Captain. It is quite convenient. Starfleet obviously hired Captain Riker to liberate our prisoners and his agents had experience with Iridians. How else would they know to strike at the brain through the eye rather than waste a particle beam to the chest? Our natural regenerative capabilities were obviously known and therefore taken into account."

"Do I look that smart?" Macen asked.

"You knew enough from your first encounter with Sindis to shred his clone's head with a flechette rifle and to behead the man himself," Gendik pointed out, "I'd say that makes you intuitive at the very least and intuitive people have a tendency to be problematic."

"As long as we're being honest, we both know the area where you're taking me is riddled with listening devices and that I'm going to destroy those devices. Why not save yourself some hardware and take me to a 'clean' room?" Macen inquired.

"As long as we're being frank, I'll confess that the only 'clean' areas are outside of this dome. So unless you want to suck vacuum I'll take my chances that you miss at least one of our surveillance monitors," Gendik rebutted the suggestion.

Macen shrugged, "As long as I don't have armed guards marching in when I disrupt the monitors."

Gendik chuckled, "The merchants will be desolate over their lost opportunity to eavesdrop but when aren't they that way? Their infernal complaints fill the governor's ears."

"But the governor also benefits from their presence," Macen observed, "As do you."

Gendik's ears perked up. It was true that the governor materially profited from her post. She received many "gifts" in exchange for favors. Monetary gifts were considered bribes and bribery was condemned in the Enforcer Territories but non-currency based rewards were considered remuneration for excellent service. Such practices extended to the Masters and all the way to the lowest officials. The Facilitator had undoubtedly been waiting for an offer of a gratuity in exchange for his ability to grease the wheels of commerce and cultural exchange.

Gendik's eyes glistened with anticipation as he said, "I must confess, Captain, I'm dying to hear what you have to offer."

Macen graced him with his most ingratiating smile. The Facilitator had no idea how true his words were.


Chapter Twenty-Six

Gendik showed Macen to an alcove. It possessed a comp/comm unit, a desk, and a chair. Macen smiled to himself at the notion of anyone actually using the obviously compromised data/comm unit. Macen thanked Gendik for his service and then watched as the door closed behind the departing Iridian.

Macen pulled a tricorder from his belt. Like his phaser, it was surplus Bajoran Militia issue. It detected seventeen obvious surveillance devices and two possible. Adjusting the scan bandwidth, he detected a cloaking signature around another device. He sat the tricorder down and retrieved a small cylinder from his utility belt. The uppermost portion of the cylinder opened into an antenna and the base of it flanged out to stabilize it on the desk.

The device was one of Joachim Dracas' legacies. It emitted a subspace pulse that would destroy the transceivers on all of the "bugs". Dracas had also designed a new class of sidearm for the SID but Macen had been reluctant to employ it. Exclusivity would label the team as well as a sign saying, "It's us!" But since Dracas had signed off the product to Outbound Ventures, Inc., Tyrol had joined with Bajoran Militia Arms to produce the armaments. The rest of the Corporation had switched to the new sidearms and assault rifles while they were in system defending Serenity. The SID team and the crew of the Solstice would be making the transition as soon as they returned to port.

Little things like that would keep Joachim's memory alive for the team. The younger Dracas had never served aboard the Solstice, unlike his progenitor, Hal. Parva had three years of service time with the ship class under her belt, and in her case, it was probably a garter. Joachim had only received his chance to be Chief Engineer of the Solstice because of Parva's injury. Her damaged brain couldn't readily recall a lifetime's worth of training and experience.

Re-education had helped Parva tap into the "lost" sections of her mind and find the dormant talents that lay nestled below the surface. Her personality had been permanently altered though. The jaded, cynical, and embittered Parva was replaced with a Parva full of innocence and wonder. Her years as a sex slave forgotten, she had lost her loathing for men.

Since her pheromone glands had been removed at Daveed B'nner's behest upon her enslavement, woman could be around her without risking horrendous headaches. She was accepted because of her skills. She was a savant when it came to engineering. Even when reduced by her previous injuries, she'd outperformed ninety percent of the Outbound Ventures staff.

Parva had a wicked talent when it came to armaments as well. She'd personally designed Daggit's photon grenade launcher. She'd also engineered the explosives they were going to use around the colony. Frankly, given his druthers, Macen would replace McMasters with Parva and vice versa. But such things were not to be. Besides Daggit's inevitable meltdown over such a proposition there was Parva's own docility working against her. Her former ferocity was extinguished. She nobly served in an engine room aboard a starship or a space station but put her into combat and she'd have a breakdown.

That had been proven when the Lantillian Night Coven overran Serenity. Parva fought with her would be assassin but she'd been temporarily reduced to helplessness afterwards. No, her spunkiness now revolved around the Solstice now that the Obsidian was gone. And Macen acknowledged that it should be that way.

Shrugging aside nostalgia, he depressed the activation stud on the subspace emitter. Sparks of flame erupted from virtually every surface of the room. Macen had to admit that he was impressed. He'd been spied on by the Cardassians before, who among the best in the quadrant at it, but this showed a whole new level of dedication to the art.

Macen swept the room with his tricorder. Unless the Iridians had developed a biotech means of observation that Starfleet Intelligence was unaware of, he was in the clear. He tapped his comm badge and placed a call to the starship Intrepid.

"Good to hear your voice, Captain," Lt. Commander Ian Delaney remarked, "I trust your team is well?"

"You can stop fishing, Ian. Hannah is doing fine," Macen tried to reassure the Chief Tactical Officer, "Anything interesting going on in your end?"

Macen could hear the frustration in Delaney's voice, "The Enforcers won't allow me to dispatch a security team for the Admiral and Ambassador Picard."

"And after that recent business on Felkor III, you find this to be intolerable," Macen ventured. Delaney took his secondary role as Chief of Security very seriously. On Felkor, Johnson had been captured along with Commander Stryker, Delaney, and his two man security detail. "Buck up, Ian. Bob knows what he's doing. And he has Picard affirming this move, correct?" Macen inquired.

"Yes, the Ambassador backed the Admiral's decision to go in anyway," Delaney grumbled, sounding very disappointed and put out.

Macen chuckled, "There's a reason why they made the most decorated captain in Starfleet an ambassador."

"You're right, of course." Delaney begrudgingly conceded, "Call it professional paranoia."

"Well, I have good news for you. In about five hour's time, all hell is going to break loose," Macen cheerfully offered.

"Why am I not relieved?" Delaney groaned.

"Just put me on with Jim," Macen requested, referring to Captain McKinley.

It took several minutes for McKinley's voice to come over the subspace circuit, "Brin? Are you still there?"

"Yes, Jim. I only have a few minutes before my 'facilitator' knocks down the door to eavesdrop so I'll get straight to the point. How are the negotiations going?"

McKinley's snort could be heard over the line, "They're stalling and we're pushing for a resolution. Picard has the sense they badly underestimated us."

"Even after all of Sindis' reports?" Macen wondered.

"Sindis was a disgrace. He was so much of a pariah that they left him alive to rot in his shame rather than execute him," McKinley reminded Macen, "They felt anything he reported would be exaggeration to try and redeem himself in the Masters' eyes."

"Is there an Enforcer Master on Tekik?" Macen inquired.

"Not that we can prove but the Governor is in communication with someone higher up. Whether they're on this planet or not is a matter of conjecture," McKinley shared, "Bob feels they're stalling. What for, no one knows. If we could find out and get some kind of leverage over them during these talks, it could change everything."

"Are Bob and Jean-Luc in the Government Dome?" Macen asked.

"Yes," McKinley confirmed it.

"Tell them they have four hours to do the best they can and then they need to withdraw," Macen instructed.

"And what happens in four hours?" McKinley wasn't certain he wanted to know.

"Actually, it's in five hours but I want the diplomats off of the ground before my team makes its move," Macen divulged.

"And what does this move consist of?" McKinley knew he probably didn't want to ask but curiosity had him reeled in.

"In five hours I'm going to get us some leverage. That's all you need to know," Macen disconnected before McKinley could ask anything else. The less the Intrepid's crew, the less they could be implicated of.

Macen emerged from the alcove and Gendik appeared straightaway, "I see you are a man of your word. Every system went dark after you entered in."

Macen knew Gendik hadn't overheard anything or else there would be Enforcer troopers present to escort him off to interrogation. The key to his nascent plan was the Government Dome. From there, the Governor directed the defense of four surrounding sectors as well as this colony. Those sectors, and Tekik in particular, stood between any Enforcer reinforcements and the newly acquired territories. Point in fact, Tekik was the hub from which the expansion had launched from and could theoretically still control it.

Macen headed for where Rockford was in a deep discussion with a merchant. As Macen drew closer he could overhear that she was discussing how a private detective served her client. It was definitely lost in the translation because the merchant waved her away and walked off. She turned to Macen with a gleeful twinkle to her eyes.

Macen tilted his head towards Gendik with the slightest of gestures. Her twinkle birthed a mirthful smirk as she physically took him by the arm and began asking what the licensing requirements would be for her to open up an agency branch on Tekik. The Iridian was so taken aback by her forward manner he literally lost the power of speech.

Macen corralled up Daggit, Radil, and McMasters and brought them to the closest wall of the dome. He'd noted that people came to the edge of the dome to reflect or to discuss things in private. McMasters waved his tricorder around before anyone spoke.

"We're clear," he announced.

"Good," Macen said as he turned to Daggit, "What's your impression so far, Rab?"

"Not good," the Angosian admitted, "If we were to get into a firefight, the non-Iridians might actually run around like poultry with its head cut off. They'd surely interfere with our lanes of fire and the Enforcers would start tossing them out as cannon fodder in order to slow us down."

"So we take the civilians out of the equation," Radil interjected. Finding all eyes and ears pointed at her, she elaborated, "It's like the same basic problem we had in the Bajoran Resistance. We had to target the Cardies without taking out potential friendlies."

"There is no way these bootlickers are going to be friendly. At least not in this lifetime," Daggit argued.

"No, they're going to be blind, panicky pylchyks," Radil agreed, referring to Bajoran livestock, "So we use that. The Enforcers can't shoot at us while they're trying to keep the rising tide of panic at bay."

Daggit turned to Macen and wore a sly smile, "She has a point."

"Of course I have a point. I grew up doing this shuk. We have strike at the infrastructure. We disrupt their way of life and the whole system will erupt in chaos. The primary responders will be so overwhelmed they'll never see us coming at our primary target. We do have a primary target, right?" Radil ended the last rather crossly.

"We're headed for the Government Dome. They may or may not have information that would prove invaluable to our negotiating team," Macen revealed.

"And if they don't?" Radil wondered rather clinically.

"Then the negotiations get a lot longer and tenser while we beat feet back to friendly territory," Macen explained.

Radil smiled, "Sounds good. Now, what do we blow up?"

"Hold on," McMasters fished a padd out of belt. He pulled out a second data slate and attached it to the first. He then made groping gestures at his teammates. They each surrendered two padds. They shifted to one of the nearby benches and McMasters knelt while he furiously made sketches with a light pen. Radil sat on one side of the bench, leaned over and entranced by the work in progress. Macen sat on the other side and was reminded of McMasters' displays of brilliance in his youth. Daggit was content to loom over the scene and glower at any bystander that strayed too close.

McMasters came to a flourish and he stopped, "Okay, what we have is sixteen domes. But these domes aren't all centrally connected. The center dome," he pointed with his deactivated pen, "is the hub. It has access to every other dome. It's also the military headquarters on this world. Our task is to disrupt movement to and from that dome."

"What are these two domes?" Radil pointed at two that were nearly isolated, "They're only connected to the Enforcers' barracks."

"You really weren't paying attention when Gendik proudly laid out the design of this place, were you?" McMasters scolded.

"Hey! I was looking at how to tear apart the happy little colony," Radil asserted defensively.

"This is how you do it. Through infrastructure. Just like you said," McMasters mollified her. He pointed at the first isolated dome, "This is arts and crafts-ville. Totally negligible to our purpose. This other one though, is our eventual destination. It's the government dome."

"So we blow the access points and completely isolate it," Daggit opined.

"Nnnnh!" McMasters emulated a buzzer, "Thanks for playing but you're dead wrong."

"Then how do we do it?" Daggit growled.

"Have you caught up, m'dear?" McMasters asked Radil. Seeing the eager look in her eyes, he handed over the reins to her.

"We blow the access tunnels to every other dome. It'll have to be timed bursts in sequence. We want the military deployed as far away from the central hub before we move in on the Governor's Dome and blow the access tunnel between it and the Enforcers' Dome," she explained, "With the Enforcers scattered across the colony, they'll be disorganized to properly react. And in addition to everything else, the civilians will be in a full rout. They'll be trying to stay alive as the crowd mobs them."

"Meanwhile we'll be commandeering a troop transport," Macen added, "Once we're aloft, we'll blow the access tunnels to the Governor's Dome and come in through the airlock while the Governor's staff cries for reinforcements. Reinforcements I might add that they'll think we'll be."

"I can narrow in on the specific systems if we strike but this is all for nothing if we can't retrieve the data in a hurry," McMasters warned.

"I'll have a chat with our resident spymaster," Macen assured him.

"I though that was you," McMasters quipped.

"Our other spymaster. She's looking rather bored at the moment and I think she needs a challenge to tackle," Macen said and then went off to find P'ris.

"What makes him so cozy with her anyway?" McMasters wondered. Seeing the baleful looks from his companions he got irritated, "Well excuse me but we risked a helluva lot to keep her alive and deliver her to Starfleet. Once she was in Starfleet's custody they dumped her on us and he went for it."

"It's a long story," Daggit said.

"Well, I've got time," McMasters declared. Seeing their irritation he added, "Now you know how I feel. But I promise I get the story or this little act of terrorism goes up in smoke."

Daggit and Radil exchanged rueful glances. Daggit spoke, "Lees is the one you really want to ask. She was there with Macen when the team first met P'ris. Hell, it wasn't even a team yet. Only Grace is still here from the original crew."

"You mean you weren't signed up yet?" McMasters wondered.

"No, I was serving aboard the Enterprise trying to convince Captain Picard to blow Macen's ship straight to hell," Daggit admitted.

"Obviously that happened," McMasters dryly retorted.

"Will you shut up and let me tell the story?" Daggit asked.

"Okay," McMasters meekly cowed.

Daggit informed him of the basics of the first meeting of Commander P'ris and the crew of the ill-fated USS Odyssey. Radil took over at the meetings upon Harbinger and Bajor and the mission to Romulus. P'ris had been a confederate of then-Commander Donatra. Now-Empress Donatra wanted her head on a pike but Radil wondered how much of that was personal animosity or the urging of the ambitious Proconsul Sela.

"So she's screwed with your heads a little but pretty much played it straight?" McMasters asked.

"Essentially," Radil conceded, "She'll toy with you for the sheer hell of it but in the end she comes through."

"Good to know," McMasters said, "Now I think we should follow him because I need access to that information kiosk and Macen has the only real access to our Iridian friend."

"I've noticed that you never refer to our beloved captain by his given name yet he does the reverse towards you. Why is that?" Radil wondered as she helped McMasters dismantle the padd construct.

"I guess it's because he was already 'Captain' Macen when I first met him," McMasters confessed. Seeing Radil's piercing stare, he chose to elaborate, "Macen was captain of another Blackbird-scout named the Odyssey. He and Ro brought their ships to me for some performance enhancements. Now, Ro's Ju'day-class, that was a ship I could work with. After earning my spurs on Chakotay's ship of the same class, I'd earned something of a reputation amongst the Maquis." McMasters grinned, "The Maquis had just acquired a dozen of the ship class and they wanted all of them converted into raiders. I was more than happy to help."

McMasters grew nostalgic, "Ro's Indomitable was a work of art. She could never hold her own against a Galor-class cruiser mind you but she could put up a fight. Pit more than one raider against the Cardie and they'd go running." He sighed, "I refitted the whole dozen and it was still in vain. The Odyssey, however, was barely scratched. Macen wanted her as close ot design specs as possible for his scouting missions."

"What about Macen and Ro?" Radil asked and grinned at McMasters' confusion, "You were going somewhere with thus trip down memory lane."

"What I was getting at is why I never refer to Ro and Macen by their names. It has to do with my first impression of them," McMasters opined, "That'll always stick with me."

"Why?" Radil was well and truly baffled.

"The Maquis was full of believers. Zealots, if you will, willing to fight and die for the cause. Ro and Macen were a different breed. All of the Starfleet recruits were. They'd seen action. The kinds we heard stories of but didn't repeat," McMasters shared.

"I know Ro saw action in the Resistance and Macen served along the front lines during the Border Wars but I never gave it much thought," Radil admitted.

"Give it some. Give it some real good thought," McMasters advised, "The older Maquis told me war stories of how Macen served on both sides of the ever shifting line. He put it all out there for fifteen years and then came back for more when the DMZ was formed."

"What was he doing on the other side of the border?" Radil wondered.

"Stuff," McMasters replied. Seeing her temper flare he went on, "Macen was the first of a new breed of analyst for Starfleet Intelligence. Cross trained as a field operative, they went out with the Special Forces and personally got their hands dirty. He was trained by Elias Vaughn."

"Yeah, I know he and Macen are friends to this day," Radil retorted, "Old news."

McMasters couldn't refrain from rolling his eyes, "Elias Vaughn is the oldest surviving member of SOCOMM. No one else has reached the ripe old age of one hundred and eighteen. Hell, they usually don't make it to forty. You know why? Because they get the jobs that can't be done." McMasters looked truly discomfited now, "Vaughn took Macen under his wing and after T'Prynn died Macen became his right arm. They blew the hell out of the Cardassian installations near the border. Sometimes they didn't come back."

"What are you saying?" Radil pounced on that statement.

"Macen and Vaughn have both been interrogated by the Cardies. You know that isn't pretty," McMasters revealed, "Yet they came back alive, not once, but twice."

"There's no way," Radil protested.

"How do you think Macen rescued Admiral Johnson from Cell 51?" McMasters asked.

Radil narrowed her eyes, "How do you know about Cell 51?"

"I looked up the ship's secure logs. I like to know where a starship that I'm going to be working on has been," McMasters divulged.

"It seems P'ris isn't our only resident spymaster," Radil mused.

McMasters shrugged off the comment, "So anyway, while all the rest of the Maquis were getting ready to hurt the Cardassians however they could, Ro and Macen were ready for a war." McMasters shuddered, "Personally, I'd never get in their way when they decide something like that."

"Yeah, I've the look and the consequences," Radil admitted.

"You want to know who else to look out for?" McMasters asked.

"You're not going to go off about P'ris again? Or Daggit? Or Celeste? Because we know about them already," Radil dryly remarked.

"And you're missing the obvious candidate," McMasters informed her.

"Who's left? The only person I didn't name is Hannah," Radil shared.

"Bingo," McMasters said authoritatively.

"You're kidding?" Radil didn't believe what she was hearing.

"Radil, Hannah ain't human despite her looks," McMasters warned.

"Yes, I know," Radil's words dripped with scorn.

"Look into her eyes, dammit!" McMasters urged, "We're bugs to her. Bugs that she dearly wants to squish. And from what I saw the other day, she can damn well do it whenever she wants."

"Hannah's harmless," Radil insisted but she was beginning to wonder what was in Grace's eyes.

"And her people sent her out as a spy, right?" McMasters hammered at Radil's protestations, "She's supposed to look harmless. Her people have a nasty track record of killing anything and everything that isn't them. Now, I'd like to believe as much as the next guy that she's got that impulse in check but the more I get to know her, the more I seriously doubt it."

"I'm beginning to see your point," Radil admitted.

"Good. Two sets of eyes and ears can cover more ground than one," McMasters said gratefully.

"Shouldn't we tell Macen?" she asked at long last.

"Do you honestly think he doesn't know?" he asked derisively.

"What's with the hostility?" Radil wanted to know.

"Look, our beloved captain is shacking up with a woman who has tried to kill him on three separate occasions. Do you think that something like Hannah's little attitude problem is going to faze him?" McMasters demanded of her.

Radil fell silent and McMasters adopted a knowing smile, "I thought not."


Chapter Twenty-Seven

P'ris smiled as Macen approached, "I had wondered when you would seek me out."

Macen was bemused, "You knew I would."

"I gather that we are to move against our hosts?" she inquired.

"Yup," Macen confirmed it.

"Good," she said flatly, "The sooner we can strike out against these monsters the better."

"We're not sure they're all monsters yet. To assume they are is rather narrow minded," he warned.

"Are they not moving against our governments?" P'ris asked archly, "Does that not make them enemies at the very least?"

"Enemies, yes. Monsters? I don't think so. No race has ever been purely composed of monsters," Macen asserted.

"Not even the Cardassians?" P'ris asked crossly.

"Not even the Cardassians," Macen's voice was taut as he said this.

She studied him for a moment, "I had heard you had taken one as a lover for a short time. Is this true?"

"Lyoti and I are old friends who shared a moment," Macen admitted.

"Indeed," P'ris mused, "Several moments by all accounts."

The topic of conversation irked Macen, "I haven't gone prying into the men and women that you've slept with."

She laughed, "No, you are far too prudish for that." Seeing he wasn't mollified, she added, "If it is any consolation, my information came from the Cardassian Intelligence Bureau."

Seeing he was affronted, she smirked, "Surely you realized that Gul Mariska's actions are monitored by the security organs? She is Queen Katreen's chief protector. She is responsible for all of the monarch's security. It was she that ordered that every member of her staff be monitored, including herself. You just happened to be in their sights during your trysts."

"She warned me that the Bureau would be eavesdropping, I just didn't know that included the Tal Shiar," Macen dryly commented.

"You displayed great stamina and technique. I do believe she was greatly fulfilled. After all, you did introduce her to a new realm of experience," P'ris teased.

Macen looked decidedly piqued so she added, "I do mean the cunnilingus. The Cardassians do not indulge in such endeavors. The males consider it beneath them. Of course, the reverse is not always true."

P'ris' snippy tone amused Macen and he began to grin. She recognized this, "Ah yes, there was much to be delighted with. And as far as your intended inquiry goes, I would be more than happy to break into the Enforcers' files."

"You knew I was going to ask?" Macen chuckled.

"As the humans say, 'I would if I were in your shoes'." P'ris was quite pleased with herself. Seeing Macen's curious look, she added; "You are familiar with my history as a data slicer, are you not?"

Macen nodded. P'ris' usage of the Romulan term for hacking through a cyber defense platform and acquiring the data protected behind it was telling. He knew that she had specialized in such activities as a youth, freshly enlisted into the Tal Shiar's ranks.

"You're rather good at it so I assumed you'd stayed up to date with enemy systems," Macen revealed.

"I have," P'ris declared and then she grew grave, "There is a condition."

"And what would that be?" Macen asked neutrally.

"You want the Enforcers' plans for the Khitomer Accords," P'ris said matter of factly, "I want the same information for the Typhon Pact."

"Of which the Star Empire is first among equals," Macen acknowledged.

"Very astute, Captain," P'ris verified his hunch, "I may no longer be accepted in the Star Empire but I am still its servant. I will not allow my people to be trampled under the Enforcers' boots while the Khitomer nations escape ruin."

Macen's answering smile was benevolent, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Truly?" she was somewhat surprised.

"You should know me better than that by now," he scolded, "This move will not only foster good will towards yourself but also for the Khitomer Accords."

"Truly you are too beneficent," P'ris dryly quipped.

"Just don't let it get around," Macen jested, "Now round up Hannah and join Eric and Jenrya. Celeste will be joining you shortly.

"That leaves you and the Angosian man mountain, P'ris realized, "What shall you two be up to?"

"Clearing a path," Macen said enigmatically.


Macen signaled Daggit with a predetermined hand gesture. The former commando began to follow Macen at a distance. Macen returned to Rockford and Gendik. The Iridian looked relieved to see him.

Rockford immediately read Macen's intent in his eyes. He fooled most people but when you'd been inside of his emotions like she had, the subtle clues were laid bare. More importantly, she could see Daggit malingering in the distance. All of his non-verbal cues were pointing to his combat conditioning being triggered.

Annika Ryst, and by extension Celeste Rockford through Ryst's memories, had been an Angosian Infiltrator. Her brand of Augment actually created new personalities that subsumed the original template and allowed them to become the enemy. They were assassins, pure and simple.

Daggit's breed of Augment had been that of a strategic operative. Conditioned to work behind the lines for weeks, possibly months, at a time they were killing machines. Whereas the Infiltrators were scalpels, the Spec Ops troops were broadswords. Rockford had once seen a Terran sword known as a claymore. She thought its design fit Daggit's mentality very well. Particularly after Macen had added the fact that the Scots had devised the weapon to deal with their mortal enemies: the Scots.

Rockford felt pity for Gendik but she didn't allow that emotion to betray her as she bid him farewell. As Macen led Gendik back to the communications alcove, Daggit followed. Rockford shook her head and went in search of her teammates. If Macen was "removing" Gendik from the equation it meant he was ready to roll.

Gendik stepped inside of the alcove at Macen's behest, "Really Captain, I don't know why you've called me in here. You've already ruined the equipment."

"I need to call my ship again and the comp/comm's controls are in Iridian script. I need to change the language protocols. I tried but it seemed locked up," Macen explained.

Gendik was amused, "Considering that you shut down every other subspace transceiver in the room, I'd be surprised if the unit works at all. Have you tried using your own communications gear?"

Macen grinned, "I tried but apparently someone in the colony is objecting to my using my own equipment. They probably want me to be observed this time...just in case."

Gendik nodded, "It does rather sound like Central Command." He sat down and activated the comp/comm. To his surprise, it activated, "There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with the machine."

"Language protocols, remember?" Macen reminded him.

Gendik touched the screens and everything shifted to Federation Standard, "I don't see the problem. I..."

Gendik turned to find Daggit looming over him. The Angosian was nearly two meters tall and the musculature of a weight lifter. He saw the look in Daggit's eyes and Gendik knew his time in this universe was over.

Daggit saw the acceptance of the inevitable just before he plunged his Bowie knife into the Iridian's eye. The blade was coated with blue tinted blood as Daggit withdrew it. He cleaned the blade with Gendik's cloak. The facilitator wouldn't object.

Daggit opened the door and he exchanged locations with Macen. Macen used his tricorder to record Gendik's retina print from his good eye and then he recorded his thumbprint. Exiting the alcove, he nodded to Daggit. The ex-commando allowed the door to shut and then jammed his blade into the door's controls. It was now jammed shut.

Macen and Daggit arrived at the information kiosk to see McMasters studying it. Macen brushed him aside and used the biometric recordings too access the unit. McMasters' face lit up and he began surfing for the required information.

Radil watched the displays over his shoulder. She made a comment from time to time and McMasters usually agreed with her but once and a while he poo-pooed her idea. Finally they came up with a mutually agreed upon list of targets.


Using the kiosk's transmitter, McMasters tied it into the team's padds and downloaded the information to them. After shutting the kiosk down, McMasters suggested that they return to the dome's edge rather than stand out in the plaza. They were already attracting attention for being strangers. Worse yet, they were unsupervised and accessing the information systems.

After they gathered around, McMasters pulled out a padd; "Pull up the pertinent info, boys and girls. I'm going to run through this fast and dirty."

Everyone had the padds out and scrolled to the overview of the colony's dome system. McMasters began his brief, "Pull up the environmental systems. The first thing you'll notice is that these people don't use matter/energy reclamators. They're still using plumbing. That means we have a weapon at our disposal."

"How is sewage a weapon?" Daggit asked.

"Why don't they use reclamators?" Grace blurted. She noticed that everyone was looking at her, "What? Don't tell me you weren't thinking it."

"I'll answer in reverse order," McMasters shared, "The sewage is used as fertilizer for the agricultural domes. And as for how sewage is a weapon, have you ever imagined if an entire colony's toilets backed up at once?" McMasters let that sink in, "We blow the main lines and the system will overflow and then there will be a spill. Since the treatment center is also their primary source for filtered water I'd say we would've struck two birds at once."

"We need to take out the agricultural domes," Macen instituted.

There was hesitation after that. McMasters broke the silence, "We can use charges to crack the domes. Once there's a breach they'll be sucked apart by the near vacuum of the atmosphere."

"We do we need to do that?" Daggit unexpectedly asked.

"This base is a vital link in a chain that leads home. All our homes, inside the Federation and the Star Empire as well as their assorted allies. If they have to spend time, money, and resources on supplying this colony with food and making infrastructural repairs, they'll have to slow their advance. That delay will allow our sides to reinforce and possibly avert a war," Macen explained.

"Or it could start one," Daggit countered.

"A calculated risk to be sure but for now we play things my way," Macen ordered.

"Speaking of food, the colony relies upon protein synthesizers instead of replicators for supplemental foodstuffs. They have industrial replicators but it would take time to reprogram them into making food," McMasters revealed, "Another major weakness to exploit is the access tunnels connecting all of the domes. The tunnels are pressurized but they're prone vulnerable to being collapsed. We blow out a few key supports and the tunnels go down. The pressure doors at the domes seal and the trains also go airtight so we're not talking a massacre here."

McMasters used his light pen to mark the locations and then transmitted them to the other padds, "We don't have enough charges to knock out the whole system so we'll concentrate on these points. The red dots are access tunnel supports. The purple dots are the synthesizers. The blue dots are the placement locations for the dome cracking and the green are for the sewer."

They split up the duties. They each had primary and secondary targets. They then split up and went their separate ways with a plan to reunite at their current location.


Four hours later, Johnson and Picard excused themselves from the negotiating table and returned to the Intrepid. Meanwhile the SID team was beginning to reunite at the venue where they had last been together. They all reported success.

Each person had been assigned two tunnel supports. Macen, Grace, Daggit, and Radil had each taken a synthesizer. Rockford handled the Agricultural dome while P'ris set a charge inside the hydroponics dome. McMasters took on the sewer because no one else had volunteered.

"Good work," Macen congratulated them, "But we've only begun. Now we have to get to the closest airlock and wait for the Enforcers to start mobilizing. After they've barreled through and bulldozed their way towards the unfolding crises, we'll board the transport, neutralize the pilot, and head for the government dome." He turned to Grace, "You're sure you can fly one of these?"

She smirked, "If it can lift off, I can fly it."

Macen grinned, "Just checking.

They collapsed the outer access tunnels and the Enforcers responded en masse. They surged out of their dome and spread to the outer edges of the colony. The interior access tunnels then blew. The synthesizers and the sewer plant went next. Pipes ruptured around the colony and sewage backwashed throughout the system. The weakest joints between pipes also ruptured, spraying the filth into the domes' interiors.

Troop transports deployed to every dome. Similar in design to a Federation shuttlepod with much greater capacity, they docked with the airlocks of the individual domes. The explosives then cracked the agricultural domes. They imploded as their atmospheric pressure equalized with the near vacuum of the planetary environment.

The crowds panicked. The Enforcers went into lockdown mode as they attempted to quell the rising tide of fear. The Enforcer barracks emptied as the reserves scrambled to protect the emergency responders as well as reinforce the troops dealing with the increasingly volatile crowds. Scan teams and other forensic experts were escorted to the scenes. With the troops spread so thin and the colonists turning against them there was no one to observe Grace slipping aboard a transport.

The pilot spotted her and drew her weapon. Grace bent the Iridian's wrist and wrested the polaron phaser out of her hand. Grace then thrust the gun's energy emitter into the Enforcer's eye and fired. She tossed the weapon into the OPS station's seat. Tugging the slain Iridian out of her harness, Grace unceremoniously dumped the body onto the deck beside the CONN.

She tapped her comm badge and called Macen, "We're clear."


The SID team boarded the transport. McMasters sealed the hatch and signaled Grace that she could cycle the airlock and any time. He could hear the airlock seal up behind the transport. The docking clamps disengaged and Grace activated the antigravs and started firing the RCS thrusters.

As he went forward into the passenger compartment, he spotted the dead Iridian lying next to their resident pilot. He sat down and met Radil's gaze across the aisle. His wry expression spoke volumes as did her rueful one.

Grace piloted the transport to the government dome. In order to elude suspicion they needed to transmit a request to dock in the Iridian's native tongue. Rockford surprised everyone by mastering a few phrases within mere moments. She demurely put it down to her indoctrination as an Infiltrator. After all, she'd quickly adopted the language and dialects of different Tarsusian soldiers. She then demonstrated her skills by flawlessly employing different human dialects.

Daggit wore a grim smile while Radil and McMasters were rather unnerved. Rockford noted this and shot a verbal riposte across Radil's bow in Bajoran with the accent of a native of the Kendra Valley. P'ris stared at her as though she'd betrayed the Romulan's trust.

The two most interesting reactions were those of Macen and Grace. Macen already knew of Rockford's linguistic skills. He'd proudly proclaimed that she had a talented tongue. She'd chosen to demonstrate just how talented it was at that point. Grace, however, was a mystery. She seemed unfazed by Rockford's revelation almost as though she'd been expecting it all this time.

They docked and Daggit and Radil went to the airlock. The sensors read "green". They had a positive seal and the airlock was pressurized.

Daggit released the hatch and brought his rifle to bear. Radil already had her rifle's stock firmly nestled into her shoulder and was prepared to go into instant action. Although, it turned out there were no Enforcers waiting for them. They were at the other end of the airlock, waiting for the transport's passengers to enter the dome n ad answer for their deviating from the commercial dome.

Grace followed in the heels of the two gunners. She told them to wait before they reached the airlock door. She stretched forth her left hand while her right gripped her phaser. Ripples of green energy danced across her lifted hand. A translucent green wall formed in front of the Angosian and the Bajoran.

"Remember, you can shoot through the field but nothing can penetrate it to come at you," Grace explained again, "And I'll be right behind you."

Radil didn't know whether to be reassured or afraid. She and Daggit were the vanguard of the invasion force. They could carve out a wide path while the others acted as the scalpel and cleared out the inevitable voles that dug in and sniped at them from the sides.

"Do it!" Radil instructed.

Daggit released the hatch and two Enforcers barely had time to register that the people they were greeting weren't Iridians. Radil shit them both in the eye, one right after the other. Grace pushed her field outside of the airlock and Radil and Daggit followed it.

Phased polaron bursts slammed into the field and they were deflected. The energy wasn't dissipated, instead it was shunted to the edges of the field where it arced off and struck the surroundings. A dozen brave souls lined up in ranks and fired at the SID team.

Daggit dealt with the standing rank while Radil mowed down the kneeling rank. At first the Enforcers were clueless as to the nature of the attack. They were overconfident in their regenerative abilities. After their enemies had killed half the lines, they recognized the pattern of attack. They began to dodge and weave their heads but that also served to eliminate any semblance of accuracy to their shots.

Meanwhile, the rest of the team brought up the rear and dealt with those flanking the field. And Enforcer officer marshaled the remaining troops and they switched their weapons from "pulse" to stream and took aim at Grace's field. The strain she was enduring became apparent within a few minutes.

"Scatter!" she commanded. The team went to either side of her and took more traditional forms of cover.

Grace dropped the field and the polaron stream came right at her. It struck her only to go through her. She holstered her phaser and stretched out both hands. Repeating her effort on Atrocitus she formed individual force bubbles over the Enforcers' heads. This time though, she didn't collapse the fields until they'd all suffocated.

Having been in the cell block assault, Radil hadn't seen Grace's earlier performance. The fact that she could accomplish such a deed wasn't as unnerving as her attitude regarding it. It wasn't that she was exultant because she wasn't. She wasn't filled with remorse. She wasn't consumed with guilt. Rather, she was filled with a smug sense of satisfaction. In her ever so humble opinion the Enforcers deserved exactly what they got.

Radil couldn't say she disagreed. After all, these people had reared Bertram Sindis and attacked her home planet's solar system. It was because of them that the Celestial Temple had been closed. Who knew when, or if, the Prophets would reopen it? The Pah-wraiths had closed the Temple once but the Emissary had freed a Prophet held captive in a Tear and the Celestial Temple had been reclaimed.

Only, now the Emissary insisted he no longer walked with the Prophets...at their behest. The Perhaps the Prophets were leaving Bajor to its own devices. Maybe they felt they'd served their purpose and brought Bajor to the point where her people could stand on their own. After all, Bajor had proven itself worthy of membership within the Federation. When the former Terok Nor had been destroyed, the Bajorans built a new Deep Space 9 to replace the old. They'd stood tall and shouldered the burden, determined to press forward even if the Federation Council doddled and Starfleet didn't receive permission to rebuild.

DS9 had even been commanded by Bajorans. First by Colonel, then Captain, Kira Nerys. Kira had a brief career as a Starfleet Admiral before resigning to join a Vedek order. She'd rocketed through the ranks. First a Ramjin, then a Prylar, and she'd recently taken her vows as a Vedek. Kira's story of rising through the ranks of the Bajoran Resistance, then the Militia, transitioning into Starfleet, and ending up a spiritual leader had inspired millions of Bajorans. Nothing could hold the Bajorans back. They had living proof.

And now the station was commanded by Captain Ro Laren. Her storied past was a history of overcoming obstacles. Ro kept out of the news cycles as best she could but she was adored by her fellow Bajorans. She fiercely guarded her privacy but her former superiors in the Militia and her commanders in Starfleet had revealed a great deal of her past. She was a celebrity on her birth world and Radil felt it was deservedly so.

Radil had overcome many obstacles as well. Loaned out by her Resistance cell to a mercenary company, she'd fought across landscapes and worlds that most Bajorans had never suspected existed before the Cardassian withdrawal. And then fortune had it that she joined Macen's SID team. She'd literally shaped the fate of the Federation on more than one occasion. She'd had two great loves of her life. Abby Collins was dead but she'd managed to marry her husband, Kort. All of these factors should have prepared her for the unexpected but she had utterly no clue on how to deal with Grace.

Grace had chosen exile from New Kelva rather than return to her people. Of course, her people wanted to "re-educate" her for becoming too culturally contaminated during her time in the Federation. She'd chosen to remain with the SID. Hell, she'd even married a human. But how many of Grace's cultural imperatives had been overridden? She'd betrayed the team twice. Did she have it in her to do so again? And if so, could the team contain her? Macen had single handedly beaten her to a literal pulp the last time she'd acted against her friends. What had she learned from that? Did she think she had it in her to overcome him at long last?

Radil reluctantly shrugged these thoughts aside as Macen called the team together. He spoke after they'd gathered, "Okay, now we need to move on the Governor."

"Why?" McMasters asked.

"Because she's the military governor of this colony and the surrounding sectors. If the Enforcers are going to send troops this way she'll know about it," Macen explained.

"Oh. Okay. The Governor's HQ is thattaway," McMasters jerked his thumb to the right.

Macen smirked, "Do we have your permission to deploy?"

"Of course you do," McMasters frowned, "Smartass."


Chapter Twenty-Eight

Daggit, Radil, McMasters, and Grace fanned out and blew apart the dome's tunnel access. The airlock collars were also damaged so the expected transports couldn't establish a hard lock seal. Without one, the arriving troops would find their craft turbulently rocked as the atmospheric gases within the transport blew out to the near void of the planet's native atmosphere. The Enforcers might prove resourceful enough to reseal the transports with minimal loss of life but as moribund by regulations as they were, it was deemed unlikely. The SID team also expected such an event to occur.

Macen, Rockford, and P'ris headed for the Ops Center. The saucer-like construct was centrally located in the dome. Most of this dome was empty. There were barracks near the dome's edges that served the center's staff but there were only three outlying buildings from the Ops.


The Ops Center reminded Macen of the similarly purposed areas on the Cardassian built Nor-class stations. Terok Nor, Empok Nor, Outbound Ventures' own Serenity, and dozens of other identical station built across Cardassian territory, or in some cases former territories, all shared this standard feature. And this wasn't the first technological or construction method attribute that the two cultures shared. The composition of the framework for the Iridians' domes was identical to the hull plating that Cardassian space stations and starships were made out of. If there were a congruity of technology then there might also be shared weaknesses that could be exploited.

They'd met less resistance than was expected when they entered the Ops saucer. Alarms were sounding all over. Voices called over intercoms but there were no answers. The occasional pair or trio of guards confronted them but like their brethren, they were to overconfident in their natural healing abilities to seek proper cover. They died in short order. After awhile, even P'ris' martial impulses were sated.

"Will these people never learn?" she bemoaned, "They come and come and continually die yet they do not change tactics or seek other recourse."

"What happened to 'enemies of the Empire must die'?" Macen asked with some amusement.

"There is a difference between honorable combat and wholesale slaughter. Despite the recent leanings within my government, particularly represented by its new Proconsul, my people do not kill for sheer sport," P'ris huffed.

"I never said they did," Macen consoled her; "The Star Empire plays by the rules of war. It's just a little tough to figure out what exactly those rules are sometime."

P'ris grinned, "You must learn to the play the game, Captain, or the game plays you."

"I do believe that's the first time you've referred to me by my shipboard rank and not my defunct Starfleet title," Macen mused.

"I am no longer your equal in rank. I am subordinate to you so I will defer to the rank you pretend to honor...despite my knowing the truth," P'ris said primly.

"And what truth is that?" Macen inquired with some fascination.

"That in your heart you will always be Commander Brin Macen of Starfleet Intelligence," P'ris declared.

Macen shook his head, "It doesn't matter what I believe. Starfleet permanently closed that door."

"You also believed you were exiled to a penal colony for twenty years and look how that turned out," P'ris cajoled.

Rockford returned from scouting ahead, "Are we done here? I think I found the command center."

Macen glanced towards P'ris, "Another time."

"I shall look forward to it," she promised.


Macen moved forward to join Rockford. As he was approaching, the detective leaned over and gave the Romulan a knowing smirk. It rather unnerved P'ris. It seemed as though all of her secrets had been laid bare to the Angosian. P'ris didn't consider her a rival for Macen's affection but only because he didn't have any romantic inclinations towards P'ris.

Not even one, she inwardly fumed. Rockford knew this as well. If what Danan had revealed about the empathic cascade shared by the El-Aurian and the Angosian, it was no wonder that Rockford was preternaturally confident in her ability to hold on to Macen. She truly had seen the depths of his feelings for her just as he in turn had seen her depths.

Macen and T'Kir had been a charmed couple seemingly drawn together by the Elements themselves. But their union had always been strained by T'Kir's volatility. Now T'Kir was cured but she was also distant, wanting nothing to do with her former life.

As she understood it, Rockford had also presented an element of danger at first. Her core personality had not been hers but Annika Ryst's. Word of Ryst's enmity with Macen had reached Romulus, at least when there had been a Romulus. The Argyn had destroyed thousands of ships fielded by the governments of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants but they had also merged Ryst' myriad personalities into a gestalt. Ryst herself had chosen to fade into oblivion and leave Rockford nothing but her memories and her skills. All of the various personalities had. They saw Rockford as their one sure path to happiness and she would carry on their legacies.

Rockford had definitely absorbed the skills sets of her lethal "siblings." The detective had been abnormally competent with a particle weapon before but now she threatened to put Daggit to shame. Her fellow Augment would take issue with such an assessment but it was clear to P'ris that there was a reason Rockford had been chosen for the elite of the elite Infiltrator program. She was truly gifted.

Daggit gave Grace some competition in the hand/eye coordination department but Rockford nearly matched Grace's lofty abilities. She truly challenged the Kelvan, which was as rare as the pilot's species itself. There were under a million Kelvan refugees on New Kelva. It was no wonder they felt constantly threatened. The Kelvan had conquered nearly the entirety of the Andromeda Galaxy when an opponent created a radiothermic biogenic weapon that only killed the Kelvan race. Within a few months, the desperate survivors in the path of the weapons fled their native galaxy.

Scouts had preceded the main force. Rojan and his forces discovered their physical forms couldn't survive in the Milky Way. Surviving the Galactic Barrier, they crashed upon a world on the outer Orion Arm and encountered humans for the first time. Desperate to survive, they used their attuners to transform their physical forms to those of a nearly perfect example of humanity.

Rojan's encounter with Captain Kirk and the crew of the USS Enterprise was the stuff of legend. Rojan gave up on his quest to reunite with his people. Instead he and his fellow refugees settled on the Class-M they had originally crashed upon. They sent a signal to the incoming refugee fleet with instructions on how to survive within this new galaxy. Then Rojan and the others settled down to wait for their brethren.

P'ris knew the basics of the story. Her infiltration into Starfleet's files was extensive. She knew that Rojan and Kalinda had children just as Drea and Raynar and the rest of the Kelvan settlers had as well. One side effect of their perfecting the human genome was that their life spans had been increased exponentially. Now, more than one hundred twenty years after their encounter with Starfleet, Rojan's crew had just reached the age of infertility.

Grace was a child of Drea and Raynar. She'd inherited her mother's piloting skills and Raynar's tactical abilities through genetic memory. Her parents had received their skills the same way. Only the dominant skill was passed along so as to not overwhelm the descendents of a long line of ancestors. Grace's primary skill was piloting, like her mother, and she would pass that trait down to her offspring.

It was unknown how her marrying a human would dilute the genetic transfer. Doctor's had confirmed the compatibility of genes between Delaney and Grace. His, however, were flawed in comparison. Delaney had been bothered by this at first but Grace had simply laughed and told him she liked his imperfections. Having "perfect" children had been her worst fear after growing up in the rigidity of the culture on New Kelva.

The Federation had sought out the Kelvans after the bulk of their colonists arrived. It seemed even more apropos after the Kelvans eliminated the Omicron threat to the Federation. The Kelvans would have nothing to do with cultural exchanges. Rojan and the others had dispatched children like Grace to the Federation to spy on it and see how their arriving kinsmen would be received. The news had been grim.

The Kelvans didn't want the Federation "contaminating" their culture and they certainly felt no need for a mutual defense pact. In other words, they weren't buying what the Federation was selling. They also rebuffed the Klingons, the Romulans, The Cardassians, the Breen, and the Tzenkethi. They went so far as to castigate Grace for remaining within the Federation's bosom and denying her any part within New Kelvan society.

What P'ris knew, and wasn't sharing, was that the Star Empire had a fallback plan if the Kelvans ever went on the offensive. After the Hobus disaster and the loss of Romulus and Remus, it was felt a "doomsday" weapon was needed in case of attack by a vastly superior force. The Kelvans feel under that category. So Donatra had the Scimitar rebuilt. Of course it had a new designation. The Empress had foul memories attached to the original ship and its master.

Only the Empress could command the vessel. It literally wouldn't work without her. This is probably the only thing that kept Sela from running away with it and wreaking vengeance on those that she considered enemies. Even if Donatra died giving away the secret command codes that would transfer authority over the weapon, Sela couldn't be aboard when it was operational or it would self destruct. Donatra was many things but foolish wasn't one of them.

Donatra had been the one to send envoys to all of the various Typhon Pact member states. The idea of an alliance between them began in the Star Empire. Since the Romulan state was by far the largest and arguably the most advanced, the other nations listened. Surprisingly, the Breen, the Tzenkethi, and even the Tholians were willing to put aside their traditionally xenophobic tendencies and listen. The Gorn had faced the Borg during the Borg's war with the Federation and had suffered losses they felt made them vulnerable. The Kinshaya, well the Holy Order of the Kinshaya was as insane as ever but at least they directed their vengeful insanity towards the Klingons. If the Kinshaya kept the Klingons busy, then the ridge heads couldn't attack the Star Empire, or so the thinking went.

P'ris refocused and followed her teammates as Rockford led them to a circular door, yet another similarity with the Cardassians. P'ris had noticed the same patterns that Macen had. Her mind was already reeling from the potential consequences. Both species possessed gray skin but the Iridians lacked the Cardassians' distinctive bone ridges. But could there be a common ancestry?

Supposedly a link between a mysterious precursor race and several races within the Alpha and Beta Quadrants had been discovered by the famed Starfleet Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Representatives from the Klingons, Cardassians, and even the Star Empire had been present. It might explain the annoying tendency the races had to cross breed.


The guards at the door were already dead. Macen gave Rockford a quizzical glance. She shrugged, "It seemed the best course of action."

Macen approached the door's controls and studied them, "These are the same as the comm alcove's. I wonder..."

As his voice trailed off he withdrew his tricorder and placed it up against the biometric scanner. He turned to the others, "You ladies may want to prepare yourself just in case this actually works."

Rockford and P'ris poised their pistols and Macen activated the tricorder's imager. The door rolled aside and the two SID teammates rushed in. Macen put his tricorder away, pulled his phaser free and followed them in. What he found when he crossed the threshold was a lot of dead bodies. Not all of them had been armed. That irritated him but it could best be addressed at a later time.

An inner office door hissed as it opened and all weapons were instantly trained on it. Revealed within was a petite Iridian woman. Like all Iridian female's, her hair was coal black rather than the stark white of the males. Her cobalt eyes seemed to glow with menace.

"So this is what becomes of negotiating with your pathetic Federation?" she nearly spat.

"Actually the Federation has no idea that we're here," Macen revealed, "You're more or less a target of opportunity."

"So the Ferengi have developed a spine at last," she said scornfully.

"Not quite," Macen replied. Seeing her confusion, he elaborated; "The information we can gather here could very well change the balance of power in this region. People will pay for that kind of data, including the Ferengi and the Federation. The Cardassians certainly will."

There was flicker in her eyes when he mentioned the Cardassians but he couldn't quite get a read on her. She was also too far away for his empathic senses, such as they were, to work on her. She spared him from making anymore "revelations" as she bought into what he was saying.

"Sindis said you were a mercenary. A conveniently placed mercenary," The Governor embellished, "You have a knack...is it Commander still or Captain once again?"

"Captain," Macen shared.

"Captain then," she smiled coolly, "You have a knack to be where you're most needed, or least wanted, depending on one's perspective. In fact, your entire Outbound Ventures organization shares this trait, if to a somewhat lesser degree.

Macen bowed at the waist but never took his phaser off of her, "I'm sure our clients would agree."

"So the Ferengi hired you to come here not only to ostensibly scout out trade opportunities but also to make a raid of our databanks if the opportunity presented itself?" she asked. Her steely gaze fell upon P'ris at a terminal and was disappointed to see data scrolling across the screen faster than she could track it. Rockford guarded her from harm and the Governor recognized the lethality behind those eyes.

The Governor turned to Macen, "Are you to kill me as well?"

"That would be most unfortunate but it could happen depending on what you do here," Macen warned, "The Ferengi Alliance wants to do business within the Enforcer territories. They see trade as the guarantor of peace."

"There is something to be said of that," the Governor admitted, "Once one's self interest is tied into another nation's, one does not attack that nation for fear of spiting oneself."

"Exactly," Macen concurred, "I'd approach the Federation a little more openly after this. They'll know your plans for the 'new' frontier between the Territories and the Federation. The Ferengi also sit near your newfound border. Consider that as you represent your Masters."

"What will they give you in exchange for that data?" the Governor suddenly blurted. She composed herself and asked, "Will they give a world of your own? Because I can offer that."

Macen smiled thinly, "I already have a space station."

"Where is the profit then?" she was beginning to be morbidly curious.

"I lost a world to the Borg. My new home was threatened by the Cardassians, then the Dominion, then by forces too numerable to mention, then the Borg again," Macen recited.

"And now the Typhon Pact," the Governor smiled slyly, "We could help you destroy them."

"But we don't want to destroy them," Macen smiled at her obvious befuddlement, "We'd rather befriend them."

"You people are so...inconsistent," she complained.

"That's what makes us adorable," Macen quipped.

"I've got it!" P'ris declared proudly and she rose from her seat.

Rockford ushered her over to where Macen was standing. P'ris shifted her focus onto the Governor and any move that she might make. The Iridian in turn remained as passive as before.

Macen tapped his comm badge, "Macen to Telrik."

There was a moment's silence and then, "Telrik here."

"Are you eating?" Macen wondered.

"Kind of," Telrik sheepishly replied.

"Well, I hate to interrupt, Chief, but we need an immediate evac," Macen ordered.

"Commander Forger just called down here before you did. She wanted me to know we're breaking orbit because we've got in bound cruisers. Seems the whole sector patrol is collapsing in on us," Telrik reported.

"Will that prevent you from transporting us aboard?" Macen ruefully wondered.

"No, sir," Telrik replied.

"Then get to it!" Macen snapped.


An annular confinement beam grabbed the team just then and they disincorporated only to reintegrate in the Solstice's transporter room. All seven members of the team stood there. Most of them still had their weapons drawn. Telrik noted their surprise at being transported.

"Sorry 'bout the down and dirty grab but the Captain said to beam everyone up so I did," Telrik chuckled.

Everyone smiled at that. Telrik was probably the most agreeable Tellarite in the Milky Way Galaxy. The mood was broken as Macen tapped the comm badge on his belt, "Macen to Forger."

"Forger here," she replied.

"Have you engaged the cloak?" he inquired.

"Did it as soon as you and the others were aboard," she informed him proudly, "Now we're playing hide and seek with the Enforcer patrols."

"Any sign that they can detect us?" Macen asked.

"Not yet," Forger replied, "I have Rhiann running evasive patterns anyway. It'll take us twice as long to exit the system and go warp but I think it's worth the wait."

"Good call, Shannon. I'll see you in a few," Macen said. He could almost feel her glowing with pride across the distance. He turned to Rockford and P'ris, "You two, with me in my Ready Room. Everyone else, feel free to stand down."

Forger didn't even get a word in edgewise as the SID trio blew through the bridge and went straight into the Ready Room. Forger muttered, "I wish I had my damn office on this deck."

Miller seemed to sense her superior's frustration, "Look at it this way, Commander. It's a vote of confidence in our abilities."

Forger gave her a wry look, "Thanks, Jaycee. I knew I could count on chirpy enthusiasm from you."


Inside the Ready Room, Rockford sat down upon the couch while P'ris took the only visitor's chair. The Romulan had handed her tricorder's isolinear data rod over to Macen. His access to Starfleet Intelligence got him in straight to the watch commander's desk. Transmitting the data, Macen received an acknowledgement and signed off.

He allowed P'ris to exchange positions with him as she accessed the Romulan CommNet. Reaching her own contacts within the Tal Shiar, she sent them a copy of the data as well. She stayed on the line while the agency verified the information.

"Elements, Talera, you are in Enforcer space," her contact exclaimed.

"Yes Hiran, I am. I am now terminating this connection. Even if the Director has ships to spare to look for me, please advise him that a war for survival is more important than my assassination," she terminated the connection. She offered the desk back to Macen and reclaimed her seat.

"So, what happens now?" Rockford asked impishly.

"Now we make our way home and let the wheels of diplomacy and the threat of war bear down on everyone's psyche," Macen replied.

"But the Enforcer Masters crave war," P'ris argued, "They are worse than the Klingons or the Kinshaya."

If Macen was about to comment that both sides, the Khitomer Accords and the Typhon Pact, had allied themselves with those species he wisely refrained. Instead he said, "I think Picard was right when he said that the Enforcers badly underestimated us."

"Bad enough to make them rethink a war?" Rockford wondered.

"Maybe. Rather than throw every reserve unit they have at the two alliances, they've sat back and reinforced their internal positions within their uncontested territory."

"Which may very well just be a prelude for another invasion," P'ris pointed out.

"It might be," he allowed, "But I think they're going to be cautious for a while and retake everyone's measure."

"I hope you are right, Captain," P'ris said direly, "For all of our sakes."


Chapter Twenty-Nine

Tekik's Governor quickly shifted positions when she came out of consultation with her Enforcer Masters. Johnson and Picard had received a brief on the Enforcers' plans and an outline of how to deal with it. Starfleet, the Cardassian Militia, the Klingon Defense Force, and the Treasury Guard were all mobilizing units to the new border but they held there rather than cross into disputed territory.

The Enforcers, in turn, pulled out of the disputed region and held at their original border. Surprisingly enough, the Typhon Pact and the Enforcers reached a similar concordant. The cease fire was unofficial but it seemed to hold...at least long enough for diplomacy to begin. Johnson and Picard were granted negotiating authority for the Khitomer Accords nations. Castellan Garan balked at first but her two prized diplomats, Ambassador Elim Garak and Negotiator Detrek, were both busy dealing with the alliances the dual quadrants seemed embroiled in. Garak primarily dealt with the Federation and took up Cardassia's cause in the Khitomer Accords on the side. Detrek, no one was fully briefed on her given name, was Cardassia's liaison with the Typhon Pact. Not the Khitomer Accords representative, for there surely was one just as the Pact dispatched Tezrene to Earth, but the Cardassian Union's personal envoy.

The Typhon Pact surprised everyone by sending Alizome Vik Tov-A, the Tzenkethi Autarch's personal Agent-at-Large. Alizome had served in dozens of posts, under dozens of guises, but her own success had eventually caught up with her. She was now well known as the Autarch's troubleshooter. Her presence at the negotiations either indicated the seriousness with which the Typhon Pact took these negotiations. Inversely, it could also be taken that Alizome was present as an agent provocateur bent on pitting the Enforcers against the Khitomer nations. All Johnson and Picard knew for certain was that these talks, already balancing on a knife's edge, had just had the blade sharpened.

The Enforcers opened the talks with an offer to minimize their presence in the disputed areas while the Khitomer and Pact nations militarized their own borders. That offer fell flat onto deaf ears. In the end, several surprises came about. One was that Alizome seemed as concerned about the security of both alliances. Picard suggested it was a case of "the enemy you knew versus the unknown foe." The Typhon Pact disliked the Khitomer nations and actively felt threatened by them but they knew their opponents and how they would respond under threat. The Enforcers were the exact opposite and therefore had to be contained.

Adding their weight to Alizome's, the diplomats showed a united front that the Enforcers had not expected nor could contend with. Their initial strategy of "divide and conquer" had horribly backfired. Now they might have to contend with a grand alliance the likes of which the Enforcers had never faced.

In the end, it was reluctantly proposed by the Enforcer Governor that a Demilitarized Zone be established encompassing the entire disputed regions. Alizome readily approved since the Star Empire had a proven track record with the Neutral Zone with the Federation. Johnson and Picard were far less enthusiastic. The Federation's DMZ with the Cardassian Union had only just been taken down by the Union's joining the Khitomer Accords alliance.

The Maquis, the single most divisive political organization had arisen in that selfsame DMZ. On occasion the ragtag rebel group had almost pushed the two nations back into war. Instead of falling victim to the Maquis aggression, both sides had effectively hunted the terrorists down. The Cardassians had finally purged the threat from their territory with the help of the Dominion. The feeling survivors then faced prosecution in the Federation. After the Dominion War, the DMZ had been re-established under Cardassian control but once again neither side's military could mobilize there.

Taking note that Alizome wouldn't support any other suggestions or offers, Johnson and Picard raised the issue of groups like the Maquis arising. The threat of piracy also existed. Alizome recommended creating a joint task force, consisting of units of all three powers and the natives in a fledgling agency solely devoted to border patrols and customs duties. The Governor rallied to the Tzenkethi's side and Johnson and Picard finally bowed to their wishes.

No military traffic whatsoever would be allowed in, out, or through the DMZ's borders. Any such action would be tantamount to war. The Governor also warned Alizome that cloaked ships would constitute a breach of the zone. If either, or both, alliances broke the zone a general war against both would be carried out.

Commercial traffic, in the form of unarmed freighters and scouts, would be allowed to cross. When Johnson brought up the fact that pirates could be lurking in the DMZ and those same ships would be defenseless against them, the Governor and Alizome joined together in saying the joint task force would be arrayed against them and would marshal to the freighters' defense.


In the end, Johnson and Picard did manage to get one concession. The Khitomer contributions to the joint task force would not only be civilian personnel but Starfleet also had decommissioned starships that could be handed over. When asked why these ships were available while Starfleet was recommissioning as many ships as possible, it was revealed that these ship classes had been built around the turn of the century and were currently being held of eventual use by the growing number of privateers. But for such a cause as this "joint effort", Starfleet could hand over two dozen ships or so. The Enforcers could contribute an equal number as could the Typhon Pact. This way ships of the line wouldn't be deployed in the zone.

"And the border patrol can be easily overcome by your forces," the Governor dryly observed.

"Or by yours, Madame Governor," Picard countered.

"True," the Governor mused, "I must relay these terms over to the Masters but I d believe they meet the spirit, if not the exact terms, of the Masters' original wishes. Shall we reconvene in four hours' time?"


The ambassadors all agreed but as Johnson and Picard were returning to the transporter pad they found Alizome already there waiting. Although Johnson didn't know her beyond her reputation, Picard had some personal experience with her. The Venette Convention had dropped their petition to join the Federation largely due to the coaxing of the Tzenkethi. Alizome had represented the Coalition's interests while Picard and a group of Khitomer nation ambassadors had tried to convince the Venettens to change their minds. Alizome had carried the day while the Venettens learned mistrust and resentment towards the peoples of the Federation. It had been Picard's last assignment before the Argyn incursion and his subsequent retirement from Starfleet.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Alizome Vik Tov-A," Picard said amiably.

Alizome laughed, "You always have been able to lie so eloquently, Picard." Tzenkethi speech patterns literally sounded like bells to humans so her laughter literally tinkled while his universal translator made them sound like Federation standard.

"It is no lie, Alizome. You do me a grave injustice if you believe that of me," he said sadly.

"I think that of all your peoples, Picard. The Federation is so...fragmented and chaotic. In the Coalition we know our place. Our genetic coding gives us our place in the Autarch's grand design and we serve him to the best of our ability," she said with utter conviction.

"I wonder if you would feel the same if your grade were Ret-EE?" Picard idly wondered.

Alizome looked as though she'd been slapped, "Have a care, Picard. Our common interest were united today so I served my Rej by securing its future, our allies future, and even your future. Please do not make me regret it any more than I already do." She used the informal genetic designation given only to the Autarch.

"But you haven't secured anything," Picard sorrow grew as he realized she had no inkling of the consequences of her actions, "You've merely put a pretty stopper on an intricately carved bottle. All of these tensions are going to fester, wounds or going to be licked but they shall find no succor. The Enforcers were given pause today only by our unity. If we fall into bad habits and go at each other's throats once more, they will come for us and we will be sorely unprepared."

Alizome weighed his words carefully, "So you are saying we are in a balance?"

Picard nodded, pleased that she was finally getting it; "A very delicate balance. If even one of its participants is thrown out of balance, all of the partners will be immolated upon the knife's edge."

The tinkling laugh returned, "I knew you spoke the language but I didn't know you also indulged in Klingon poetry."

"I am quite serious, Alizome," Picard warned.

"So you are," Alizome conceded, "And you are never quite as dangerous as when you are, Captain."

A rueful smile appeared on Picard's face, "I am not a Tzenkethi. I can grow beyond my former roles without a genetic redetermination."

"Pity," Alizome's bell tones took on a sorrowful sound, "I will discuss these matters with my Autarch and his allies, Picard. We will have this treaty and then we shall determine how to live with it."

"I can only hope that we all learn to do so in peace," Picard said somberly.

She scrutinized him for a moment as if assessing his sincerity. Finally she spoke, "As do I."


The transporter operators had been growing quite impatient with the delays and they approached the ambassadors. Alizome turned her gaze upon them and they melted. Few humanoids in the galaxy were as beautiful as the Tzenkethi. Their large, luminous eyes; their fluid filled bodies shaped in curved in alluring proportions, and their incandescent glow all served to draw other species towards them. It almost made Picard and Johnson forget the atrocities committed during the Federation-Tzenkethi War. She playfully waved at the humans and disappeared as the transporter effect took her away.

Picard relayed his destination to the Enforcers manning the transporter. As they contacted the Intrepid, Johnson softly spoke with Picard; "Do you think you got through to her?"

"I don't know," Picard sighed, "Alizome Vik Tov-A is incredibly flexible by Tzenkethi standards but she's still inflexibly bound to Autarch. I have no doubt that she will make a full report of the proceedings and of our exchange. It all depends upon what Korzenten Rej Tov-AA has to say."

"Korzenten hasn't a good thing to say about the Federation since his grading was confirmed and the previous Rej stepped down," Johnson said sourly.

"Yes, but Alizome wouldn't have pursued this action unless Korzenten approved of it," Picard reminded him, "And that decision was probably found in outside sources."

"You think the other members of the pact pressured him into this?" Johnson thought he saw where this was going.

"Domo Brek and Empress Donatra are facing the brunt of this war. The Tholians rarely leave their own space. The Gorn military caste is nearly extinct and the Kinshaya are solely focused on the Klingons. That means the Tzenkethi and their clients, the Andergani, are the best hope for the Typhon Pact's mutual survival," Picard summed it up, "Neither the Breen nor the Romulans are unreasonable. They just like to have the upper hand at all times. Secrets are as necessary as atmosphere to them. It's literally a way of life for them."

"I had high hopes for Donatra after the Shinzon incident but they seem to have evaporated," Johnson admitted.

"Do not count the Empress out despite her selecting Sela as her second. I believe that was a purely political move on her part. Sela represents the hardliners and their united forces. Donatra represents those who wish to secure their people's future, especially after the Hobus disaster. Unfortunately, I now believe the young Empress will do so at any cost," It was Picard's turn for an admission.

"You two!" the transporter tech barked, "Are you going to stand there all day or return to your ship?"

"Age before beauty, Jean-Luc," Johnson grinned.

"You do realize that Beverly and I have an eight year old son?" Picard dryly asked.

Johnson shrugged, "I'm not against senior citizens having children of their own. They have more time to devote to them."

"Do you abuse Edward Noyce like this?" Picard asked. Noyce was Picard's age as well as being Johnson's superior officer.

"All the time," Johnson happily shared, "He loves it."

"I'm sure." Picard sighed. He and Johnson and moved onto the transporter pads. The armed guards seemed alert and tense. Of course, you couldn't see their faces behind their helmet's visors but their body language spoke volumes.


It had nearly taken two days for the Enforcers to properly affect damage control after Macen's little "move". The Intrepid had been joined by a dozen Enforcer warships while they orbited Tekik and waited to be summoned by the Governor. Surprisingly, when she called on them she wasn't full of recriminations. Apparently she'd fallen for whatever story Macen had concocted to distance himself from the official organs of the Federation. She also knew they already had copiers of the Enforcers' operational plans and intentions for the newly acquired border regions. The Typhon Pact had signaled that they'd received copies as well and wished to talk. That information had surprised the Federation diplomats so much they'd actually given away their surprise.

That little lapse seemed to wipe away the last vestiges of doubt that the Governor had. She then returned them to the Intrepid to await the arrival of the Linerea which was bringing Alizome to the negotiations. The Governor seemed amused by the Federation team's less than enthusiastic response over who was leading the Typhon Pact mission. As they were being escorted out of her official chambers and towards the transporter room, she fired one last shot across their bow.

"It seems that the Typhon Pact has more faith in its negotiator than the Khitomer Accords does in the pair of you. After all, they've entrusted their faith in one person," she'd laughed at their departing backs.


The Intrepid's holo deck once again served as a briefing room. Holographically represented were UFP President Nanietta Bacco, Castellan Rekena Garan, Chancellor Martok, and Grand Nagus Rom. Starfleet C-in-C Edward Jellico was also present. They accepted the proposed treaty with grim finality.

"This will postpone the inevitable," Bacco complained.

"Madame President, if I may?" Jellico interrupted. He pulled up 3D star map of the border region and designated two points along the proposed DMZ, "These are sites for proposed Deep Space stations. We've had development plans in this area. Deep Space 10 and Deep Space 11 have all but been built. The approval to build them was granted before this conflict."

"I thought we diverted those resources to Deep Space 9?" Bacco retorted.

"The technical crews but not the resources;" Jellico replied smoothly, "DS9 is in the finishing stages. It's already gone operational."

"But it's in orbit around Bajor," Garan commented.

"There's no need to drag it out to a wormhole that no longer exists," Jellico explained.

"Rekena, most of our starbases orbit a planet. There are those that do not, like Starbase 375 or Deep Space 3, but on the whole a starbase is considered a tactical and strategic point in the defense of a member world," Bacco softened the blow that the admiral was trying to bludgeon Garan with.

"But not every member world has a station in orbit," Garan grated.

Bacco wondered why DS9 was suddenly an issue. Garan had not objected to constructing a replacement for the old station. She only seemed to have a problem with its current location. Was this a signal that Cardassia still had designs on Bajor? Weren't they over that madness yet? Maret had certainly steered them in that direction again while the Unionists were in power but he was dead and gone. What influences still remained that would direct Cardassian intentions towards Bajor? Bajor was a member world of the Federation. If the Cardassian Union were stupid enough to attack an allied world it would not only mean the end of the alliance but it would also escalate into a full blown war.

"Rekena, DS9 is going to stay in orbit until such time as the wormhole reappears," Bacco said gently.

"But the Cardassian Militia has been using the station for repairs, rest, and recreation. How receptive will the Bajorans be of our forces at a station orbiting their world much less potentially visiting their soil?" Garan finally expressed her concerns.

Aha! Bacco thought, "Castellan, you are an ally of the Federation. That means you are an ally of all of her myriad peoples, including the Bajorans. There won't be a problem."

"How can I be as certain as you?" Garan challenged her.

"You have a Militia officer serving under Captain Ro, do you not?" Bacco asked.

"Yes, I do not recall her name though. I think she holds the rank of dalin though," Garan admitted.

"Ro Laren was a member of the Bajoran Resistance and later a member of the Maquis," Bacco asserted, "In both of those roles it was her sole mission to kill Cardassians. Has your officer reported any problems with her superior officer?"

Garan pondered it before admitting that she had not, "Legate Macet feels it is a good match. Ro respects our exchange officer's abilities and has even reached out to her in friendship."

Bacco threw her hands up, "There you have it!"

Garan pursed her lips, "That is an isolated incident with a Starfleet officer."

Bacco buried her face in her left hand, "Oh, for the luvva..."

"Why are we wasting time on this shuk?" Martok suddenly demanded, "We have a treaty to approve or disapprove."

"Yes, of course," Bacco hoped she wasn't blushing as bad it felt like she was, "Admiral, how soon could Starfleet have these stations built?"

"One year," Jellico boasted, "We could have both stations up and running in that time."

"It sounds like you already have a plan, Admiral," Bacco dryly observed.

Jellico shrugged, "Luke said, the appropriations committee approved our plans last year before the Argyn struck and the Enforcers came crawling down our throats."

"You may proceed with your plans, Admiral," Bacco unnecessarily said just to remind him who was boss, "What those ship transfers? Can Starfleet really afford to hand off starships right now, mothballed or not?"

"We're talking a few Shogun-, Sirius-, and Lancelot-class light cruisers with a smattering of Newton-class science ships for sensor sweeps. The newest class was built over fifty years ago. We've reserved these ships for privateers since we seem to be relying upon them more and more," the distaste Jellico had for that notion was obvious to all.

Bacco chose to ignore it, "Carry on."

If Jellico was stung by the rebuff, he hid it well; "Picard suggested we turn over two dozen of these ships for this 'customs task force'. We can easily manage that. The staffing requirements on these older models prohibit most privateers from taking them on. They usually rely more on scouts like the Barracuda- and Blackbird-classes from the same era. Now that we're releasing the Emden-class to civilians we're having trouble finding enough of them."

"Are they in that short of supply?" Bacco wondered.

"The demand is fairly high," Jellico informed her, "At least it's the ship with the most demand and they did have an unfortunate tendency to get blown straight hell while they were running interference for ships of the line."

Garan blanched at this. The Cardassians and the Tzenkethi were responsible for most of those losses in separate conflicts. Bacco sensed the sudden tension and changed the conversation direction, "Get the ships ready. Our negotiators will hammer out the details of just how this force will be put together and what its duties are."

"I only have one question," Jellico suddenly interjected. Bacco waved him on and he continued with his thought, "How the hell are we going to staff those ships?"

Bacco frowned, "I thought the alliance members would all contribute personnel."

Jellico snorted, "Pretty picture, Madame President, but we can barely staff Starfleet right now. That means the rejects will end up crewing these ships, or even worse, becoming privateers."

Bacco rolled her eyes despite her intention to remain neutral on the issue, "They may be irregular forces but those irregulars are taking up Starfleet's traditional patrols within the Federation's borders. That leaves the regular forces free to deal with border defense and strategic defense pockets, or isn't that what your briefings have emphasized, Admiral? After all, if you want Starfleet to regain its primacy you'll have to recall all of those deep space missions in the Alpha, Beta, and Delta Quadrants."

Although it was delivered with sugar sweetness, the barb was there and Jellico felt it. He scowled, "We need those exploration missions to continue to find us new allies."

"I'm not arguing that point," Bacco assured him, "What I am saying is that Starfleet can't be everywhere at once. Not anymore."

Even though it galled him, Jellico knew when to quit, "That doesn't explain how we overcome the staffing issue."

"We have to make it attractive and then people will want to join," Bacco insisted.

Johnson, Picard, and Alizome reported that their governments had decided to accept the treaty stipulations. The Governor reported that the Enforcer Masters had also accepted it as is. They sat down to hammer out the details and make the treaty work. The single biggest issue was the joint task force. Fortunately, Johnson and Picard had come armed with some key ideas. It turned out it was an easy sell.


Chapter Thirty

The Solstice arrived at just over 2300 hours GMT -8, which is what Starfleet set their clocks at based upon their HQ on Earth. The crew wearily exited and headed for their quarters. Gerrit Gren was summoned to show P'ris her quarters' enhancements despite his being off duty for several hours. It came with being Station Chief of Security.

"It all seems so...unnecessary," P'ris commented after Gerrit ran her through her suite's sensor grid, force field nets, and panic buttons.

"Pardon my saying so, ma' am, but it's probably very necessary," Gerrit rebutted her.

"And why is that?" she mirthfully asked.

"Because your former bosses are vindictive sons a bitches," Gerrit blurted.

Riker nearly burst out laughing. Macen remained passive. He could see P'ris' effort to keep her temper in check.

"P'ris, he does have a point," he said at last. She whirled on him, her face contorting with unchecked emotion. He held up his hands, both in surrender and to ward off her mounting wrath, "The Tal Shiar has made no secret of the fact that they want you dead or alive, preferably dead. Sela is probably whipping them into a frenzy and now that the war with the Enforcers is presumably being called off, they have means, motive, and opportunity."

He saw her struggle with that. Romulans were emotionally volatile but she was able to clamp down on hers in a hurry, "You may be right, Captain. I shall certainly take it under advisement."

"And then there's the safe room," Gerrit stated.

"What?!" P'ris thundered.

"Commander!" Macen raised his voice, "You will stand down or the deal is off."

She blinked. A wounded look filled her features. Much more contritely, she nodded to Gerrit for him to continue. He showed her the last safety feature and then he and Riker stepped outside. Macen remained to speak with her.

"Talera, you know this is the way it has to be," he calmly reminded her.

"You are not the one forsaking all privacy, she growled.

"Nor am I the one that alienated and angered an entire empire," Macen countered.

P'ris sighed, "Am I not allowed any discretion?"

"The room is remotely monitored. The computer does most of the work. If the hallway were to fill with biosignatures, the computer would alert a sentient being. Attempted penetration of these quarters would then be averted if tried," Macen described the likeliest scenario.

"That is what I am worried about," she grimly revealed.

Macen grinned, "I'm sure you'll have no problem with 'entertaining' guests. After all, you joined my SID team, not a nunnery."

"A what?" the translation was obviously lost on P'ris.

He waved the comment aside, "If you truly that worried about it, meet at their quarters." Her eyebrow arched and he nearly snickered, "You never thought about that?"

"No," she admitted, "I truly had not."

"Maybe you're happier about these security arrangements than you're willing to let on then," Macen suggested.

"Perhaps," she allowed, "Would you like to stay and help me 'break in the place' or so they say?"

His smile was rueful, "Sorry, Celeste and I are calling it an early night. We both have office hours in the morning."

Though disappointed, the answer also seemed to please her; "Perhaps I shall stop by the famed 'office' tomorrow."

"The more the merrier," he grinned, "Good night."

He exited the quarters to find Riker and Gerrit standing outside of them, "I suppose you're loitering to make some dire prediction."

"There's going to be trouble with her aboard," Gerrit warned.

"I agree," Riker added.

"Tom, you already know my reasons for her staying," Macen turned to Gerrit, "And Gren, you could leave before she did and it wouldn't bother me. No offense."

"None taken. But would somebody tell me why this woman is so damn important?" Gerrit bemoaned.

"Tom, you have the honor of briefing him," Macen said and then he started to stroll away.

"Me?" Riker yelped.

"You're station CO, not me," Macen called back; "He's your Chief of Security."

Riker looked nonplussed and Gerrit chuckled, "Take it easy, Captain. It's not like our night isn't already shot."

"You have a point, Chief;" Riker mused and then he brightened, "Your office or mine?"

"Let's try yours," Gerrit suggested, "Casey won't be daft enough to expect your to relieve her while my Deputy will be."

"Good point," Riker grinned, "Then it's off to Ops we go."


The next morning Rockford reported in at her agency and Macen arrived at his office to find Bryce Fanning busy at work. She brightened when she saw him enter, "Lord Almighty you would not believe the amount of offers you've received."

"I'll start looking at them in a moment," Macen chuckled, "Any other news?"

Fanning's interest looked decidedly piqued, "Chairperson Tyrol's office keeps paging you every five minutes. Whatever it's about it's so hush hush they won't even leave a message with me."

"Ooh, interesting," he said impishly and ducked into his office to find it rearranged. Rearranged and down to one desk. He popped back into her office, "Tom's desk is gone."

"He has the office in Ops," she said, "He thought it would be redundant to keep a second one here especially since he's not part of the crew."

She could see the wounded look in Macen's eyes and it tore at her. Macen had shared an office with T'Kir from 2376-2385 and one with Riker from 2387 until now. The two years in between had been spent on a penal colony. She knew Rockford had her own office at her agency. She had her own affairs that were separate from the ship's business and she liked it that way.

"Okay," he was slightly crestfallen, "I'll see what Kathy wants."

"She'd probably appreciate that," Fanning said, trying to fan the fires of encouragement.

Macen smiled to himself as he crossed the room he'd just entered and took a seat behind his desk. Riker had made a good selection when it came to placing the furniture. Having no view because it was nestled insider of the station's core, the desk was situated to grant him an expansive overview of the room's interior. Since the door between his office and Fanning's was opened and closed by a release in his desk, he'd hear would be assailants before they reached him.

He still ran a series of checks to determine whether or not his comp/comm had been tampered with or accessed. His decades at Starfleet Intelligence and his time with the Maquis made him especially paranoid. Of course, it's not as though my current role doesn't have enough cloak and dagger to it, he wryly mused as his checks came out negative.

Activating the comm he paged Kathy Tyrol's office. It seemed she really had been anticipating his call because she appeared on screen in less than five minutes. She was also notably flustered which was a rarity in and of itself.

"What's going on Kath? You seem a little...out of sorts," Macen broke the ice first.

"Have you been talking to the Tellarites?" she nearly snarled.

Taken aback, he cautiously replied; "No, I haven't."

"Well someone has," she sourly revealed.

"Why don't you tell me what's going on from the beginning," Macen suggested.

"Dammit Brin! Don't manage me. You know how I hate it when you pull your 'Listener' tricks on me," Tyrol vented.

"I'm not 'managing' you, Kath," Macen assured her, "I'm just trying to present a calm façade so you'll calm down and tell me what's going on."

She adopted a rueful smirk, "That m'dear, is managing."

"And how am I supposedly doing at it?" he dryly asked.

"You suck at it," Tyrol complained, "My daughter does a better job than you and she's eleven."

"Then I must not be trying very hard," Macen said wryly. Seeing her get irritated again his face twisted in a rueful expression, "Hey, you're the one who doesn't like to be 'managed'."

A growl escaped the back of her throat, "Just what the hell was your crew up to in the Enforcer Territories?"

Macen's face reflected his disapproval, "You know I can't talk about that."

"Well, sometime between your last trip out and returning to Serenity an Outbound Ventures employee contacted the government on Tellar and suggested that they hire us."

Macen smiled, "That's great. You've wanted to increase our clientele base."

Tyrol shot him a scathing glare, "Look you idiot, our clientele base is one thing but this is an intervention designed to prevent a war. We're not set up for that."

"What war?" Macen wondered.

Tyrol sighed and explained the current tensions between Tellar and the Andorian Empire. The Andorians were making moves to overrun a few dozen colonies. The Tellarites didn't have anything capable of stopping the Andorians. So, someone had given the Tellarites the bright idea of hiring Outbound Ventures to secure their territory.

"So why not just turn them down if you're this unhappy?" Macen wondered.

"I would've but Starfleet told me my answer was 'yes'," Tyrol grumped.

"But this is Starfleet's jurisdiction," Macen retorted.

Tyrol shook her head, "Not anymore. Starfleet doesn't have the resources to maintain border security and internal security. And up until recently Andoria was a loyal, founding member of the UFP. No one ever expected them to be hostiles after they seceded."

"Let me call some people and I'll get back to you on whether or not you should commit to this," Macen offered.

Tyrol grew deadly serious, "Brin, they want all of the Outbound Ventures fleet deployed on their behalf. This includes the Solstice. Point in fact, they won't offer a contract without your ship and crew being involved."

"Good to know," he murmured, "I'll get back to you in a few hours."

"Sure, I should have a full blown ulcer by then," she quipped.

He smirked, "I'll keep this in mind."


Her image disappeared and he scrolled through his incoming messages. The one from Ro caught his attention. Although it would have even if it weren't marked "Urgent". He opened it and Ro's image appeared.

"Admiral Forger wanted me to deliver this news personally but I knew you've just returned from the Enforcer Territories and I thought you should get one night's sleep before you get thrown back into the fire," she said gravely. Macen double checked the time stamp on the message. It had been sent just four hours ago. Given that the station followed Bajor's 26 hour day and not Starfleet standard time, it had been roughly 1400 hours there when the message was sent. Macen settled in to watch more.

"By now you've probably heard that Tellar wants to hire your company. Your entire company. I'm supposed to tell you that the SID wants you to accept this contract," Ro held up a hand and wore a wry grin, "Before you get huffy, consider all the facts. The following is a visual recording taken inside my office two days ago. You'll find it very informative. You'll also appreciate the irony that all of Starfleet's regulation equipment 'mysteriously' shut down during this meeting and it was only because of Cardassian Intelligence Bureau equipment installed by my Second Officer, Dalin Ishkara Slaine." Ro paused and wore wry expression, "Yes, I know you're probably smirking and thinking 'It's about time' when it comes to Slaine. I respect her as an officer. I know she's had a rough go of it being a minority."

Ro didn't explain that women in the Cardassian Militia were considered minorities and frequently unwanted ones at that. He studied Ro as she continued, "Ishkara is more than a fellow officer now. She's a friend. Sort of like you and Lyoti Mariska...without the sex. And before you flash me a message saying maybe the sex would be good for me I'll have you know that Alfonso and I do just fine in that department." Ro's eyes twinkled at the last and she practically glowed just from her memories. Macen's former Maquis commander was definitely in love.

Ro grew serious again, "Watch the video log, accept the contract, and kick Section 31's ass!" Ro adopted a surprised mien, "Oh, did I give something away? I guess you'll have to watch now."

Ro's victorious smirk shone as the image faded. She had him and she knew it. After the mention of Section 31, Macen had to watch, just as she said.

The link to the encrypted file displayed and he made a copy of the file onto an isolinear data rod. Before opening the video log, he reflected back on his history with S31. The SID had been born out of the fires of S31's Gulag project near Romulan space. There, they'd gathered a host of what they considered to be dissidents culled from across the Federation and imprisoned merely for speaking their mind.

His original Chief CONN Officer aboard the USS Odyssey, Julia D'arte, had turned out to be a S31 mole. And it should have come as no surprise that her replacement, Hannah Grace, was one as well. But Grace had the temerity to betray her S31 handlers and truly serve her team and her teammates.

S31 had then apparently killed, but actually secretly captured Tom Riker, in an effort to learn how to duplicate soldiers on an even greater scale than the Dominion bred Jem'Hadar troops. Section 31 had allied itself with the SID team during the Cell 51 coup. Cell 51 had been a faction of Section 31 before it splintered off and decided to reshape the Federation.

Since then all had been quiet on the S31 front. Macen knew that Doctor Julian Bashir still had infrequent contacts with them. That was unless you counted his bedding Sarina Douglas. Douglas was genetically enhanced like Bashir but she was smarter and quicker by several degrees. She was also a Section 31 operative.

When Douglas had transferred from being a civilian Starfleet Intelligence operative to being a Starfleet Security officer, she'd approached Ro and given up that she was a S31 operative. She claimed that she wanted to take the rogue organization down from the inside but Ro was skeptical. Douglas' enhancements gave her the ability to beat any biorhythmic "lie detector" so Ro couldn't prove she was lying so she accepted Douglas' story with several caveats.

Colonel Cenn Desca, of the Bajoran Militia, was Ro's Security Chief as well as being the official Bajoran Liaison to the station. Ro had Cenn keeping an eye on Douglas. So far Ro hadn't reported any problems or irregularities from Douglas. In fact, the woman had made quite an impact during the evacuation and destruction of the old DS9. Douglas' ability to analyze and synthesize data and tremendous speeds allowed her to circumvent disasters before they occurred. She'd personally risked her life countless times and saved an even greater number of people.

Something must have happened though. Ro didn't seem upset. Her manner and vocal intonations had indicated a certain level of stress. From what she'd alluded, Tellar's proposed contract for the Outbound Ventures "fleet" was tied into Section 31 somehow. Knowing he'd get nothing more from watching Ro, he opened the video log file.


Ro was slightly perturbed as she read the padd a second time. It had all of the proper encryption protocols and authenticators but still...

Ro tossed the offensive padd into the middle of her desk, "No."

The Vulcan that sat across from her merely arched her eyebrow and repeated what Ro had said, "No?"

"That's what I said," Ro said defiantly. Ro didn't know the Vulcan but then again she didn't know more than a handful of Starfleet Intelligence officers. Her staff intelligence officer had vouched for the Vulcan though. He'd seemed quite taken with her. For "professional" reasons, of course.

"Look...what was your name again?" Ro was irritated that she'd forgotten the woman's name but she did blend into the background.

"T'Lana," the Vulcan answered as though she received this question on a regular basis, "Commander T'Lana."

The subtle inflection in that last reply informed Ro that she'd struck a nerve after all. She'd served with a handful of Vulcans in both Starfleet and the Maquis. T'Kir in particular had taught her that the race was a seething kettle of volatility waiting to boil over.

"Look, Commander T'Lana I'm a captain," Ro threw that fact in the impertinent Vulcan's face, "I can override your request at my leisure."

"Did you not read Admiral Ross' orders?" T'Lana queried her.

"You watched me read the damn orders," Ro grated.

"So you have a clear understanding that Admiral Ross is not asking you to cooperate with me, he is in fact compelling you to through the proper channels and chain of command," T'Lana made it a statement, not a question.

"Julian Bashir is my Chief Medical Officer and Sarina Douglas is a vital member of my security force," Ro countered, "They aren't available."

T'Lana tilted her head to one side as if she were studying something puzzling, "Dr. Bashir can be spared just as he has been before for missions on Starfleet Intelligence's behalf. Lt. Douglas is hardly 'vital' to your operations. As per your orders, her duties are quite routine. Other than her secondary role within the forensics unit, she would hardly be missed if she is temporarily attached to my command."

"Lt. Douglas is Deputy Chief of Security and she hasn't been marginalized. This station is just getting up and running. She'll be busy enough for three people in a matter of weeks."

"So it is better that she accept a detached duty assignment before the traffic arrives in force," T'Lana countered.

"Why them?" Ro sharply inquired, "I thought Douglas told you people to go to hell. I know Bashir did after that Breen infiltration.

"We need them for the same reasons they were recruited for the 'Breen infiltration' as you put it," T'Lana replied, "They can assimilate body language and non-verbal clues in seconds whereas it would take the standard operative month, perhaps years or a lifetime, to incorporate the same mannerisms in every facet of their lives." T'Lana looked surprisingly cross for an unemotional Vulcan at that point, "And just how did you learn of the operation to recover Starfleet technology inside of Breen space?"

Ro rolled her eyes, "Bashir is my subordinate and Douglas became my subordinate because of that little escapade. Normal people talk out what troubles them."

"And that mission disturbed them?" T'Lana asked.

"On more levels than you want to count," Ro said drolly, "I can't say I blame them."

"Still, they are ideally suited for this task," T'Lana retorted.

Ro felt like banging her head against her desk, "Look, talk to them. If they agree to this escapade, I'll sign off on it." T'Lana rose and Ro called after her, "Just as a courtesy, can I ask where they are going? Next of kin purposes and all that."

"I am not at liberty to discuss that matter," T'Lana said clinically and stepped out.

Macen watched as T'Lana returned flanked by Bashir and Douglas. Bashir seemed reluctant but Douglas practically vibrated with giddy anticipation. Ro was resigned as she signed off on the transfer orders. Her image appeared at the end of the log. She looked grim.

"Forger has contacts within Section 31. They confirmed that S31 has a current interest in the Andorians. Nechayev confirmed that Starfleet Intelligence did not issue the orders that I signed off on. She ran a records check and no 'T'Lana' ever worked for Starfleet Intelligence, or any other branch of Starfleet that her hounds can find," Ro looked worried now, "I sent them out to fend for themselves on whatever world S31 deems worthy of their particular brand of attention. Julian's basically harmless. His moral compass works better than mine. Sarina though, she's a true believer. The very same kind as Tiro Anadis and Michael Eddington. Bashir gets screwed up because of her. He leads with his heart and in this case the object of his desire has him by the mishveks and she's twisting them to get him to sign on to this. That can be used against him. Get him away from her and he'll be reasonable again. But as long as they're together they're going to be hell on wheels."

Macen watched as the time index on the display changed. Ro's meeting with T'Lana had occurred in the morning, her signing of their orders happened in the afternoon, and the first message was recorded a day later? Macen rechecked all of the time stamps. Bashir and Douglas had left DS9 three days earlier. Why was he just learning of all of this now? He hit "resume" and waited for Ro to explain this discrepancy existed.

Ro returned. She looked rueful, "By now you've figured out that Bashir and Douglas left with T'Lana three days ago. I wanted to send a message earlier but Admiral Forger said you had enough on your plate dealing with the Governor on Tekik. It was also felt by grades higher than mine that a signal from Starfleet might clue the Enforcers into your working for them instead of the Ferengi." She stopped to grin, "Quark thanks you for the market report by the way. He wasn't certain you'd actually deliver one but he's thrilled at the news. He already has a bidding war going on for the list he sent you with." She ran a hand through her over the shoulder length hair, "Nechayev learned of The Tellarites' offer to your corporation through a contact in their government. It seemed to be a natural cover so she and Forger wrote up a contract for you. And yes, she's authorizing you to double bill. Nechayev has assets on the ground on Andoria. They'll be in contact with you when you arrive."

Macen wondered how he was supposed to get on Andoria when he was patrolling star systems near Tellar. Once again, Ro had the solution; "The Andorians' representative to the Federation claims that the movement towards the Tellarite colonies is the work of agitators within the government. They won't allow Starfleet into their territory but they are willing to let you investigate the matter. Inspector Aradshin' Wy'Gist will assist you. The Andorian Emperor has thrown the government's full support behind this investigation."

Ro's expression became very wry, "As usual, the SID will disavow any and all knowledge of your activities at the event of capture. They'll probably also send someone to kill you rather than rescue you."

Macen wore his own rueful expression at Ro's dark humor. She'd know, just as he did now, that it wasn't really humorous. If the Andorians decided to arrest them on any number of trumped up charges, the SID would help them throw away the key.


He paged Fanning and she immediately answered, "Shelve the offers, Bryce. We're headed out."

"Already?" she yelped, "Do you know how much the crew hates me after I call them up and tell them their deploying again the day after they've just come back?"

Macen grinned. He'd heard this argument before, "That's why you have a thick skin, Bryce. You wouldn't have gotten the job otherwise.

"And the potential clients!" she was in a lather now, "They don't breathe down your neck but down mine. You know why? Because I keep the hordes at bay!"

"All right, Bryce, what is it you want?" Macen wondered.

"Why, whatever do you mean?" she asked with feigned innocence.

"Last time this came up you wanted a raise," Macen reminded her, "So what are you after now?"

"I want a synced data tablet so I can route calls to it as I go about my business in the Promenade," she revealed at last.

"So basically you're tired of being chained to your desk," he surmised.

"Damn skippy," she asserted.

"Okay, draw up a work order, I'll authorize it, and station operations can fill it," Macen suggested.

"I happen to have a work order sitting on my desk. You can authorize it on your way to break the bad news to Celeste," Fanning admitted.

"You're a harsh taskmaster, Mistress Fanning," Macen chuckled.

"Does that mean I get another raise on top of everything else?" Fanning asked hopefully.

"Not a chance," Macen said and cut the connection. He authorized the work order on his way out and headed for the Promenade. The Rockford Detective Agency had its offices there and inside those offices was the woman he loved. Whether or not she still loved him after he dropped the news would be another matter.

As he approached the agency he smelled coffee. The kiosk was open and Roberta was working. A delightful bribe whipped up by a maestro. He might survive the next ten minutes after all. He smiled. Things were looking up already.