Special Investigations Division 22: Second Coming

by Loki's Son

The creators of the Omicron have arrived and they have tested the Federation and found it wanting. Will they exterminate every race that we know or will they employ them in their Grand Design? The SID holds the secret to stopping these beings but its with a forgotten weapon of incalculable power. Do mere mortals have the wisdom to wield the power of the gods?

Chapter One

Nearly six weeks had passed since the mysterious subspace pulse had delivered the ominous message to the planet Omicron. That message had simply said, "We are coming." No one, including the Omicron, knew who the "we" referred to.

The starship Endeavor had been engaged in a study of the Omicron for almost three months now. It had been a Starfleet team that discovered the mysterious monolith that sent and received subspace pulses. Both times that the monolith went active it had sent and received pulses that registered far beyond anything Starfleet had ever seen outside of a planetary scale shockwave before.

Captain Adolae Thrax sat in his Ready Room and reviewed reports from his Away Teams. His XO, Commander Sela Hennessy, was coordinating the research effort on Omicron. "On" Omicron meant they were all inside of a mountain range. Thrax had recently finished reading a human fable entitled The Hobbit and horrific creatures within its pages had created habitats inside of caverns and caves secreted within the Misty Mountains.

At one time, the Omicron presented themselves as a threat, both direct and indirect. The indirect threat had been their organizing and arming thousands of terrorist and insurgent cells throughout the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. The Omicron had even briefly intervened personally on these groups' behalf.

That brought one to the direct threat. The Omicron used biotechnology they way other species used water. They even engineered their own kind. No Starfleet vessel had been found to be able to overcome their bioships.

50,000 year ago the Omicron Empire had been crushed and their homeworld razed. This accounted for their retreat underground. They'd secreted themselves away and played with their own genome. The catalyst for their genetic experiments was a fragment of "ultramatter". A substance thought to be a fragment from the celestial egg that birthed the current universe. The full capability of these fragments, yes, fragments for there were two; because the extragalactic Kelvans that destroyed the Omicrons' fleet also ejected the ultramatter out into the void between galaxies. Astronomers were even now eagerly studying the stellar nursery that the fragments had created between the Milky Way and Andromeda Galaxies.

A unit of Starfleet's nebulous Special Investigation Division had first encountered the Omicron and unlocked what secrets had been known before this expedition. If the Cardassian Union hadn't joined the Khitomer Accords then they'd have to worry about their skirting the Cardassian Farside border. Still, the Omicron homeworld was far enough beyond Breen and Cardassian space to lend neither the Typhon Pact nor the Union claims to this region.

Besides which, the SID had secured an invitation from the Omicron for Starfleet to send a vessel. One vessel. No more, no less. The decision to send in a Sovereign-class explorer had been logical enough. What Thrax saw as a grand chance to wave the flag and showboat a little, Starfleet Command saw as an opportunity to occupy Thrax in a remote system where he couldn't complicate matters between the Typhon Pact and the Khitomer Accords.

Thrax hadn't risen in Starfleet due to his stellar career. He'd risen because his uncle controlled the Federation Council's Appropriations Committee. This wasn't to say that dozens of Thraxes hadn't achieved prominence in Starfleet. They were almost as great a Starfleet family as the Parises. Sadly, the current scion of the family enlisted in Starfleet was a disaster waiting to happen.

Thrax had graduated from Starfleet Academy at the bottom of his class. Not in the periphery of the bottom but dead last. Starfleet officers across two Quadrants shook their heads and wondered how a nincompoop like Thrax had achieved command. So while the bulk of Starfleet wondered, Starfleet Command sat safely on Earth and prayed he wouldn't screw up a routine survey.

Thrax sat behind his desk and lifted one padd after another. He dutifully perused them but he had to admit that most of it went waaay beyond him. The sociologists were dissecting Omicron behaviors and the archeology and anthropology people were taking their artifacts and society apart piece by piece.

What had become glaringly apparent was that the Omicron had lost their ability to create specialized lifeforms. That meant their biotech had been reduced to a level comparable to that of the Breen. Thrax was certain that the Omicron had done it on purpose just to make him look bad. Well, his scathing reports regarding the Omicron would settle up the karmic debt.

He picked up the latest report from Commander Sonya Gomez. His Chief Engineer had been examining the monolith since the initial subspace pulse erupted from it. She'd been on hand for the reception of the second. While she still had no clue as to how the monolith functioned, she did know what it had done.

It had emitted a pulse, everyone knew that, but it had shot it through mountains that arose above them. The trace minerals and metals laced throughout the cliffs and peaks channeled and amplified the signal. It was an elegant solution as to how to transmit across space from a literal hole in the ground. A hole that was buried under a million tons of rock.

Gomez noted that she'd arrived at this solution with the aid of Lieutenant Tim Prentiss. Prentiss was the ship's Archeology and Anthropology Officer and headed the department that was scattered across the Omicron's domain. Thrax had been considering putting Prentiss on report because he hadn't provided these very answers in short order.

He thought better of it now but he would demand that Prentiss be removed from his post and demoted. What good was an A & A Officer that couldn't immediately cough up answers when you asked a question? He'd let Hennessy handle the dirty work. He'd already approved a transfer request in reply to the inevitable protest.

Now we just have to determine the origins of these ugly buggers and determine who is planning on joining us, Thrax thought to himself. His comm badge chirped and he tapped it, "Captain Thrax."

He always added his rank, just in case the petitioner wasn't aware of it. Gev's voice entered the room, "Captain, you wanted to be apprised when our probes detected something unusual."

Gev was Thrax's Tellarite Second Officer. He liked Gev. If Hennessy weren't in the way he'd install Gev as the First Officer. He'd logged a thousand fitness reports reporting that Hennessy was unfit for her position and that Gev was better suited for it but Starfleet Command refused to see his side of things. They hated him.

"How close is the disturbance?" Thrax asked. The unspoken question was, Can this wait?

"The subspace distortion collapsed at the edge of the system. We have readings on three massive objects headed into the inner system," Gev replied.

"Are they headed for us?" Thrax asked. He knew his voice quavered with fear. Hopefully Gev didn't detect that.

"Straight for us, sir," if Gev knew his captain was terrified out of his mind, he hid it well.

"I'll be right there," Thrax groaned.

---

Thrax stepped out of the Ready Room and went straight for his chair. Gev sat in the XO's chair as if he were born to be there. He was, Thrax glumly thought.

"Status?" he asked. It was always a good icebreaker...and it established his absolute authority in the situation.

"I don't know what these critters are using for propulsion but they are hauling!" T'Lisa Park reported from Science.

Thrax stared at the Vulcan-Korean hybrid, "Care to rephrase so we can all understand?"

"These things are travelling at .99c but there are no time dilation effects from travelling at relativistic speeds. It's like they're bending time to suit their purposes," she reported.

Thrax tried to grapple with that but the implications went right overt him. All he saw was a potential threat that could bend space-time in order to travel faster without resorting to subspace.

Suddenly a new thought gripped him, "You said 'critters'."

Park nodded, "Our outer system probes indicate that these, ships for lack of a better word, are alive."

"Ships?" Ice stabbed through Thrax's guts.

"Yessir, three of 'em," Park bobbed her head enthusiastically. She was excited beyond belief whereas her captain was terrified out of his mind.

"How big are these 'ships'?" Thrax inquired.

"Roughly the size of Earth's moon, sir." Park happily replied.

A moon? Thrax's mind quailed. Outwardly he asked, "Are they spherical? Like the ships of the First Federation?"

"No, they're almost fish shaped," Park mused.

Thrax chewed on that while his OPS Officer of the watch reported, "Sir, the unidentified craft are entering visual range."

Thrax wanted to go hide in his Ready Room but starship captains juts didn't do that. At least not yet.

"Put it on visual," Thrax ordered.

The screen shifted and three monstrous fish appeared on approach. They even swam through space. They were all sleek lines except for some bulbous protrusions sticking out of their flesh.

"What are those...bulbs?" Thrax asked.

"Mechanical implants," Park answered as she studied her sensor readings, "It's almost as if the Borg assimilated these creatures."

"Borg?" Thrax was instantly galvanized. When the Borg had invaded with murderous intent just a few years ago, he'd been shuffled to the sidelines escorting refugee convoys. Now was his chance for some action.

"Shields up. Arm phasers and quantum torpedoes," Thrax ordered.

"Sir, what are we doing?" Gev quietly asked.

"You heard her. It's the Borg. Now we can have revenge against them," Thrax answered with a malicious gleam in his eyes.

"Sir, Captains Picard, Dax, and Riker all stated the Borg threat was ended. They were reintegrated into the Caeliar civilization that inadvertently spawned them," Gev inquired.

"What do they know? Who are these Caeliar anyway? Everything about them is classified. All we have to say that the Borg are free and benevolent now are those officers word for it," Thrax argued.

"Sir, these forms resemble whale sharks," Park desperately tried to salvage this First Contact scenario.

"Aren't sharks predators on your planet?" Thrax wanted to know.

"Most sharks. Whale sharks are benign hence the appellation whale shark," Park tried to explain.

"A predator is a predator, Ensign. These creatures, benign or not, have been assimilated by the Borg. The last time the Federation saw the Borg they were trying to annihilate us as an unredeemable source of imperfection in their merry world. They've been hiding but they're back now and I intend to blow them all straight to hell," Thrax outlined his plan, such as it was.

Park leapt to her feet, "But this is a First Contact encounter. These ships don't have any of the Borg's power signatures. In fact, most of what they have is so exotic we can't identify it. They haven't initiated hostilities yet you want us to open fire on them. Where in the hell did you learn your First Contact protocols?" Park had to ask.

"At Starfleet Academy in a class that you obviously failed," Thrax demeaned her, "You're relieved, Ensign. Report to the brig where you will await your court martial."

"Gladly," Park huffed and she stormed off the bridge.

Thrax looked around and the entire bridge crew was staring at him, "What?

They all looked to their instruments and he began to make demands, "Target all power sources and look for anything that a 'whale shark' would consider a vulnerable point."

Seeing resistance he shouted, "Move!"

"Sir!" the OPS Officer cried, "Our computers are being tapped."

"Disconnect the core," Thrax ordered. Seeing his officer's surprise, he added, "Now! Or I'll have you up on charges."

"How will we target the weapons and modulate the shields?" Gev asked.

"Manually," Thrax said with pride, "I have the best crew in Starfleet. They'll defeat these cybernetic monsters."

"Have you thought about hailing them?" Gev asked.

"And listen to them blather on about how 'Resistance is futile'? I think not," Thrax huffed.

"Sir, we don't know if this is the Borg," Gev snorted.

Thrax gave Gev a baleful look. How could he? How could Gev of all people betray him?

"Commander, you're relieved," Thrax commanded.

"Sir?" Gev couldn't believe his ears.

"I said you're relieved!" Thrax thundered, "Report to the brig. The charge is insubordination."

Gev stood, "I'm going to love testifying at my court martial."

For a half second Thrax wisely felt fear but then his bluster overrode all concerns, "Just go before I add treason to the charges."

Gev snorted his disgust and departed.

"Where's my damn firing solution?" Thrax demanded.

"Locked in, sir," the Beta Watch Tactical Officer reported.

"Keep that in mind, sonny," Thrax retook his seat, "Helm, take us down the throat of one of those things."

"Yes, sir," the CONN Officer sighed. Frankly, she knew she was about to die. Anything that could utilize creatures like this as ships obviously had a tech base far beyond the Federation's. To antagonize them seemed like certain doom.

"Tactical, apprise the Helm of your targets. Helm, angle our approach to maximize the effectiveness of our attack," Thrax ordered.

"I'm sorry, sir. I can't lawfully obey your orders," the CONN Officer, one Sheila Walsh, stood from her post, "Should I report to the brig now?"

"Yes, dammit!" Thrax snarled, "Ensign Pottipher, abandon whatever the hell it is that you're doing and man the CONN."

"Yes, sir!" the young Egyptian yelped.

"Anyone else have an objection?" Thrax loudly inquired, "Anyone else want to suggest that we're not handling this like a First Contact mission? I know we're not! These creatures have been assimilated by the Borg. These are replacement for Borg cubes. They think we won't attack their craft because they have a biosignature. Well, I say the hell with that! These frinxers have invaded our territory and by Draxis I intend to make them pay for it!"

At the helm, Pottipher tried not to contradict his CO by pointing out that they were a hundred light years outside of Federation territory. These were clearly the beings that had received the monolith's signal and replied in kind.

He wanted to be brave and object like the others but he was ambitious and he didn't know if a blot on the record like a court martial ever truly went away. Rather than risk it he'd stay at his post and see of you could mitigate Thrax's madness. And it was madness. Every junior officer and enlisted crewman on the bridge could easily tell that.

"Helm, are we on course?" Thrax wanted to know.

"Yes, sir. I vectored us so that..." Pottipher began to explain.

"Shut up, Pottipher. You're just an ensign. No one wants to listen to you unless they have to," Thrax snapped, "Tactical! Where's my barrage?"

"We'll be in position in three...two...one...firing!" the ensign railed off.

Quantum torpedoes were thrown into space and they headed for the lead bioship. Type XII phasers lashed out and stretched across the gulf to wreak havoc. The weapons dissipated hundreds of meters away from the mechanical portions of the tremendous creature.

"What happened?" Thrax demanded to know.

"Our weapons just...dissipated," the Tactical Officer explained.

"Launch a second spread," Thrax ordered. He turned to the reluctant Tactical Officer, "Now!"

A second salvo went forth with the same results. Thrax was apoplectic, "Analyze what happened and adjust our weapons accordingly."

"Sir," the Tactical Officer said. He could barely refer to his CO by that title, "I'm registering massive power build-ups at key points across the creature's body."

"Why?" Thrax asked in an almost childlike tone.

"We fired upon them. My guess is that they're charging their weapons," the Tactical Officer dryly retorted.

"But why?" Thrax was plaintive now.

The Tactical Officer held his gaze and his eyes possessed no mercy or remorse, "You just essentially declared war on these people. If the readings I'm seeing are correct, then they have planet busters."

"Evasive action!" Thrax squawked.

"Too late!" the Tactical Officer reported.

The salvo lasted three seconds but that was enough to destroy the Endeavor. Ironically, Thrax was the only member of the bridge crew to survive. Those in the brig had been freed and led the scant survivors to the escape pods and headed for Omicron after ejecting.

Thrax numbly heard the computer reciting a 60 second countdown until the warp core lost containment. He managed to situate himself into his seat and remarkably his control panels still functioned. He downloaded everything he could of the encounter into the log buoy and ejected it. Hopefully the Federation would receive it before these creatures arrived.

Even at the end, he didn't see the fault as being his. He rather expected to be recognized as a hero for his actions particularly the launching of the buoy. He died with his delusions intact.

---

The massive bioships took up station thousands of kilometers from Omicron. They essentially became the moons it was lacking. They swam in a three point formation, covering every square centimeter of the planet at every moment. They hailed the Omicron but there was no reply.

Seeing the devastation wrought upon the planet 50,000 years ago, they debated before sending down a representative. In the end, a low ranking contact specialist was dispatched in a manner very similar to a transporter's effect.

The Argyn rematerialized in the long abandoned comm center. The Omicron, abandoned by their creators, had forgotten about the chamber and its monolith 100,000 years ago. Their factual origins were replaced by myths and theories. They forgot the language of their creators and subsequently didn't know how to operate the monolith when the Federation scientists found it.

The garbled message sent by the Omicron, after millennia had past, greatly vexed the Argyns. The Omicron had been their greatest success and their greatest failure. Where Argyn society fostered the notion that life was meant to be shaped and nurtured, the Omicron had deluded themselves with the concept that life was meant to be enslaved and used for their own selfish motives.

The Argyn had abandoned the Omicron to fend for themselves. The Omicron weren't barbarians. They possessed the secrets of non-organic technology and space flight. Some of them also remembered the arcane secrets of genetic manipulation and biotechnology. The discovery of the ultramatter and its potential availed the Omicron with the ability to tap into the birth of the universe itself.

They spent 40,000 years mastering their techniques and then they set out on a mission of conquest. 10,000 years later, their subjects rebelled and decimated the homeworld. They then spent 50,000 years rebuilding in secret. When they were defeated it was by an inferior mammalian species and their extragalactic allies.

To make matters worse, the Lowlies arose and rebelled. The cast off failed genetic experiments, the Lowlies represented the antithesis of Omicron's society. Instead of a rigid caste system determined by genetic purity and ability, the Lowlies were egalitarian to an extreme the Omicron had never even considered.

Led by an outsider cast into their midst, the Lowlies followed Rab Daggit as he marched on the Omicron and crushed them even as Brin Macen and the SID attacked them in space with the support of the Kelvans. The Omicron had transferred every able bodied soldier to the fleet's manta ray-like bioships and therefore the Overlord was vulnerable.

The Lowlies dethroned the "First One" and executed him just to prove their point. All Omicron were equal, no matter their genetic make-up. Those that felt moribund under the oppressive yoke of caste regulations quickly embraced this philosophy. Those that had lost power and prestige plotted against the newly installed democratic government.

The former leaders felt Omicron was now guided by the least capable. They waited for an opportunity to strike. Starfleet's arrival had opened an unexpected door as an up swell of support became apparent because of the aliens' presence.

---

All of that was a moot point as the Argyn gazed upon Tressib, Commander Hennessy, Commander Gomez, Lt. Prentiss, and a half dozen other engineers and archeologists. The appearance of the Argyn disturbed them. It was a gumdrop shaped blob with a snail's lower torso. A dozen tentacles extended from its body. Four of these contained true hands with four fingers and two opposable thumbs.

Perhaps most disturbing to the Starfleet crew was the presence of a wide, ovular mouth with rows of razor sharp fangs. There were also at least twelve eyes. All of them were focused on the team that had been examining the monolith.

"What are you doing?" it asked.

Hennessy was startled that she could understand it. She looked to Prentiss. He grinned.

"He spoke in Omicron. Our universal translator is geared for Omicron," Prentiss explained. Addressing the alien presence, he asked; "Do our devices allow you to understand us as well?"

The Argyn nodded with its entire body bobbing once. It unleashed a squishy sound, "Indeed, young one. Who are you?"

Hennessy took over, "We're representatives of the United Federation of Planets."

"Like those fools that fired upon us?" the Argyn grew irritable.

Hennessy held up her hands to shoulder height, "I have no knowledge of what you speak of. However, I can assume the worst. The commander of our vessel was...incompetent at best, dangerous at worst."

"He is no longer either," the Argyn announced with grim finality.

"You killed him?" Hennessy was shocked.

"He fired upon us while we peacefully approached. He did not attempt to communicate with us. He only reacted with violence. He reaped what his violence provoked," the Argyn explained.

"I see," Hennessy could. She honestly could. She'd repeatedly warned Starfleet that Thrax's stupidity would provoke an interstellar incident some day.

"It seems we're at your mercy then," she replied, "I'm Commander Sela Hennessy."

The alien pondered this overture and finally he chuckled, "Well played, Commander. I am Beriel. I am the Contact Specialist for the bioship Neffyndr."

"May I ask if there were any survivors from our ship?" she inquired.

"Yes, they are being recovered by the Omicron as we speak," he informed her.

"I'm assuming you're the species we inadvertently contacted with this communications device?" she asked.

"We are," he said simply.

"My species is called human. What are you called?" she prodded him.

"Your ship's history tapes indicated that your federated species were explorers. We are collectively called the Argyn." Beriel answered.

"We received your reply that you were coming," Hennessy revealed, "Why did you come?"

"We came to see the progress of the Grand Design. We sensed that it had gone astray and we came to put it right again," Beriel shared.

"Pardon me, but what is the Grand Design?" Hennessy inquired.

One of Beriel's true hand tentacles waved towards Tressib, "This is an example of the Grand Design and as you can see, it has horribly gone awry."

---

Chapter Two

"Oi! How've I gone 'awry'?" Tressib demanded to know.

Beriel waved a true hand in front of him, "You are not a true Omicron. What has happened to you?"

"I wuz an experiment. Y'see, the Overlord and the military were always lookin' to 'improve the breed'. They turned me into this. When they didn't like what they saw, they threw me into the chasm with the rest if the Lowlies," Tressib explained.

"The Lowlies?" Beriel asked.

Tressib gave him a brief breakdown on Omicron history over the last 100,000 years and the Argyn shuddered, "You have descended into madness."

"Maybe before but we're digging our way out now," Tressib boasted.

"Too little, too late." Beriel replied, "But there is no cause for concern. We are here now and we shall help you attain greatness once again."

"No offense, but just who are you?" Tressib asked the obvious question.

"We are you creators. Without us, the Omicron would not have come to be," Beriel said, "Even as other of the First Races seeded worlds with their DNA, we ventured forth and shaped life on dozens of worlds."

"So the Omicron are a result of genetic engineering?" Hennessy asked.

"Yes, they were our greatest success and our darkest failure," Beriel admitted.

"And you've done this with other races?" Hennessy sought clarification.

"Yes, those races live closer to us in the Core. We have formed a Collective and we all pool our resources and strengths in order to further the Grand Design," Beriel explained.

"Not to be rude, but what does that mean for us?" Hennessy inquired.

"You seem rationale but your first act was mindless violence," Beriel said.

"That was the act of one man. A very flawed man," Hennessy argued.

"Still, he was given a position of great authority. That indicates a flaw in your system. We shall examine your cultures and make a determination," Beriel proclaimed.

There was something in his tone that Hennessy didn't like, "What kind of 'determination'?"

"Whether or not your races deserve to live," Beriel said nonchalantly.

Hennessy and the others just gaped at the arrogance behind such a statement. Finally she found her voice, "What gives you the right to judge our worlds?"

"We are among the First Ones. We strode the stars while your peoples were microbes. Billions of years of experience and wisdom give us that right. If your worlds are as benighted as your historical records claim then you have nothing to fear from us. However, if you are not what you proclaim we shall exterminate you," Beriel declared.

"And what does that mean for my officers and crew on this world?" Hennessy wanted to know.

"The Omicron have welcomed you therefore you will treated as guests. You will be observed and we shall make a determination of your case based upon your individual actions. And if your worlds are found worthy you shall be returned to them," Beriel promised.

"Can I be allowed to contact my superiors and inform them of your coming?" Hennessy wondered.

"No," Beriel said flatly, "They must be surprised as your Captain Thrax was caught unawares. Only then will we see their true natures through their response to us."

Hennessy could only hope that cooler heads at Starfleet would prevail. Between the Borg and the Typhon Pact, hysteria and paranoia had never found a greater foothold in Starfleet Command and the Federation Council's chambers.

---

One week later...

"Congratulations, Captain Ro," Brin Macen grinned as he sat across from Ro's desk.

Ro Laren squirmed, "It's not a big deal. Alfonso already made a big fuss. Getting command of the station, that was a big deal. This, not so much. It comes with the territory."

The 'territory' she was referring to was command of Deep Space 9. Commander, and later Captain, Benjamin Sisko had been the inaugural CO of the Cardassian built, Bajoran space station. Bajoran Militia Colonel, later Starfleet Captain, Kira Nerys had succeeded him. Commander Elias Vaughn had briefly commanded when Kira was bumped up to flag officer rank. Ro, then a Commander, took over as Vaughn stepped down and retired. "Alfonso" referred to Captain Alfonso Reyes, CO of DS3, and Ro's paramour.

Given her spotty past, it was nigh unto a miracle that she achieved such an assignment. Ro had been court martialed as an ensign on her first deep space assignment. She'd been sentenced to the stockade on Jaros II and stayed there several years. Conditionally released by Admiral Kennelly to the Captain Jean-Luc Picard's custody, she aided him in tracking down a Bajoran Resistance cell. She'd also been instrumental in proving that the admiral was willing to supply the cell with arms in order to draw them out so the Cardassians could eliminate them.

Picard had been impressed by her performance so he offered her a position aboard the Enterprise. As Flight Control Officer she manned the CONN and directed shuttle activities and missions. Her tenure at the post served to make her rise in Picard's seasoned eye and he recommended her for the Starfleet Advanced Tactical Training course.

Being one of the few graduates from her class, Ro returned to the Enterprise and was tapped by Admiral Alynna Nechayev to infiltrate the Maquis. Her checkered past provided her with the perfect cover. She integrated herself into the cell on Ronara Prime but she soon found that her sympathies lay with the Zone colonists. Her loyalties soon followed.

Betraying her mission, Ro went AWOL and quickly rose in position to Cell Commander. Constantly at odds with the Maquis Council over their targeting "soft hits", Ro frequently found herself alone and vastly outnumbered. Which for the Maquis was saying a lot.

Brin Macen had joined her cell and became its Intelligence Chief. His lover, and fellow Starfleet infiltrator, Lisea Danan came with. Macen and Danan turned the tables on Starfleet and became double agents. They presented the "human" face of the conflict.

The fact that neither of them was human aided in their cause. Macen was an El-Aurian and Dana was a Trill. Both had seen and experienced institutionalized forms of injustice before so they were seen as perfect witnesses. The fact Macen was over 400 years old and Danan had 7 lifetimes worth of experience also abetted their cause.

The Dominion's purge of the DMZ had crushed the Maquis. Ro made it out with a handful of Maquis veterans and offered her services to the Bajoran Militia in exchange for amnesty. They accepted and those Maquis that didn't retire served behind the lines alongside Angosian "Augments". Macen acted as her Intelligence Chief once again, having been reinstated back into active Starfleet service, and she led the Angosians on virtual suicide missions.

Somehow she survived and when the war ended, she found herself at a crossroads. The Militia saw her as a potential liability. She had also proven to be a great asset since she could integrate with Starfleet so easily. Since Odo was gone, probably for good, they transferred her to DS9 as Chief of Security. She stayed at her post as Bajor joined the Federation and all external security elements of the Bajoran Militia were absorbed by Starfleet. She remained there as Chief until Vaughn assumed command and then she filled his former place and became XO. When he left she was surprised, and a little intimidated, to find Starfleet wanted her in the top job.

Promoted first to Commander and now to Captain, Ro's career prospects looked higher than ever. Of course, she'd aided Kira and Vaughn with the Cardassian refugees, the Dominion's surge, and the invasion from the Mirror Universe. She'd proven herself to be invaluable during each and every crisis so it made sense that Starfleet would overlook her "indiscretions" and keep her where they needed her most.

Ro smirked, "You know, this is the first time I've ever outranked you."

"What are you talking about?" Macen wondered, "You were the cell leader. I was just an Intel weenie. I was your flunky."

"Not in the Maquis. In Starfleet," Ro explained, "I was a snot nosed Lieutenant and you were a full Commander with forty years in grade."

Macen snorted, "Like it ever mattered."

That much was true. Macen had gone to great lengths to convince Ro that her rank was irrelevant in the Maquis. What counted was ability and Ro had that in spades.

Danan had been a Lt. Commander in the Sciences Division. She was a stellar cartographer by trade and had next to nothing in the way of combat experience. She'd been more than happy to defer to Ro's expertise. Such expertise had been earned as a youth with the Bajoran Resistance and honed by Starfleet.

Macen had seen fifteen years of combat on the Cardassian border. She'd later learned that Vaughn had ceded Macen into an apprenticeship program that trained analysts as covert ops field agents. Macen had been one of his star pupils. Macen had never discussed it but Vaughn had wrangled a high enough clearance for Ro so that she could read the sanitized versions of the files. The full details were still classified above her grade, even as a Captain and a CO of a Deep Space station as well as the USS Defiant.

After the war, Macen had joined the Special Investigations Division. Hell, he'd practically birthed it. He and his merry band were their very first Ops Team. They'd all been actively serving members of Starfleet or civilians granted brevet ranks.

That changed in time, mainly because of Macen exceeding his orders and being court martialed. He and his group became licensed privateers. Granted Letters of Marque by Starfleet and the Federation Security Council, they could operate on behalf of Starfleet in defense of Federation law. This made them the perfect assets for engaging in missions outside Federation borders. They weren't official and they could easily be disavowed and written off.

The SID eventually shifted all of its assets into being privateers, private investigators, or security contractors. This small force of civilians had access to areas formerly denied to Starfleet and discretion to use means forbidden by regulations. All of that and Macen still found ways of getting into trouble.

---

"So, I hear you're still on Admiral Johnson's shuk list," Ro's smirk was nearly insufferable.

Macen sighed, "Save a man's life and he wishes you'd obeyed orders and killed him instead."

"Johnson was expendable. What was important was keeping Felkor III as a protectorate. It gave us a nice wedge into Typhon Pact territory," Ro prodded him.

Felkor III was wedged in between Tholian and Gorn space, both members of the infamous Typhon Pact that was currently engaged in a cold war with the Khitomer Accords worlds. The intensity, and delicate balance, of this cold war made the prior troubles with the Klingons seem warm and fuzzy.

A union of the Romulan Star Empire, Tholian Assembly, Gorn Hegemony, Breen Confederacy, Tzenkethi Coalition, and the Holy Order of the Kinshaya, the Typhon Pact represented the most restless and aggressive worlds in two quadrants. They were constantly on the prowl.

Recently, the Breen had secured a copy of the plans to construct the newly developed slipstream drive. The slipstream drive safely allowed a ship to exceed Warp 10. It was one of the few remaining technological advantages that Starfleet still held over the Pact worlds. Of course, only the newly constructed Vespa-class of starships could utilize the drive.

"Blek had already promised Felkor to the Typhon Pact so keeping them under the Federation's sway wasn't an option," Macen retorted.

"You may be right but being right doesn't win you any points with Starfleet Command," Ro pointed out to her oldest friend.

"Tell me something I don't know," Macen grumped.

"Okay, change of topic: what's going on with you and your lady love?" Ro inquired.

It was Macen's turn to smirk, "You're awfully cozy with the idea of my being with Celeste. You were never that supportive of T'Kir and I."

"Celeste isn't insane. T'Kir was," Ro opined.

Macen was amused, "Celeste has multiple personalities or have you forgotten she was born as Annika Ryst?"

"Didn't she just change her name?" Ro wondered.

"Nope. When the Angosians augmented her they made her an Infiltrator. Infiltrators were the elite of the elite. They literally subsumed their identities in order to make way for fully functional aliases that took on a life of their own," Macen explained.

"So Celeste Rockford isn't just an alias that Annika Ryst uses, she's an entirely different personality?" Ro asked.

"Yup," Macen confirmed it.

"What is it with you?" Ro demanded to know, "You can't avoid the crazies? What happens if Annika Ryst comes bubbling to the surface some night while you sleep? She has tried to kill you in three separate occasions."

"There's a difference this time around," Macen assured Ro, "This time Annika wants to be Celeste. It isn't a matter of convenience. It's a lifestyle choice."

"She sounds like a frinxing time bomb waiting to go off," Ro argued.

"You said the same about T'Kir and look how that turned out," Macen replied.

"Did she really come back from the dead?" Ro wanted to know.

"Yes," Macen said. Seeing that Ro wanted more he added, "I had her essence stored in my head. Tessa had cloned her body. A Vulcan Adept reunited the two."

"So why are you tearing around the quadrant with Celeste and not rejoining your wife?" Ro demanded.

"The legalities are pretty murky. Our marriage ended when she died. As far as her rebirth goes, she was legally born when the refusion of mind and body occurred. Besides, she's on Vulcan," Macen explained.

"That never stopped you before," Ro snorted.

"She's T'Kir but she isn't my T'Kir," Macen tried to describe it. He could see Ro's lingering doubts so he plunged ahead, "There was nothing when she saw me. I mean absolutely nothing. The Adept requested that I stay away from her while she comes to grips with being alive again but it goes deeper than that."

"Tessa 'cured' the mutation that provided her uncharted telepathic abilities. Without those her experiences are different than before," Macen stated, "She contacted me a few weeks ago and she was the epitome of a proper Vulcan."

"T'Kir?" Ro couldn't believe it.

"Yes, T'Kir. There wasn't a trace or flicker of emotion in her voice or expressions," Macen stressed this point, "She wore a disciple's medallion which means she's studying Kohlinar."

Ro was stunned. The goal of the aforementioned discipline was to purge all emotion. T'Kir had been one of the most emotional beings she'd ever known.

"The crux of it was to be found in her eyes," Macen added, "She was at peace. T'Kir was many things but peaceful wasn't one of them. She's found serenity and I'm not going to strip that from her to relive the past."

"So how did the conversation end?" Ro had t know.

"We said our farewells and wished each other well on our separate endeavors," Macen's expression was rueful, "She disapproved of my goals and methods for achieving them. After she'd spent twenty minutes trying to convince me to change my ways, she surrendered and we parted on less than good terms."

Ro just stared at him, mouth gaping. Macen gave her a wry look, "So much for the fairy tale romance."

"I wouldn't call you two's relationship a 'fairy tale'. It was more like a tale of wanton lust winning the day for almost twenty years," Ro commented.

"Twenty years?" Macen repeated.

"We all got together nineteen years ago," Ro said ruefully.

"I had no idea," he admitted.

Ro replied with a dismissive snort, "No reason you should. You still look the same. I, however, am now a forty-eight year old woman."

"Personally, I think you're more beautiful than ever," Macen confessed.

Ro rolled her eyes, "I'm not your boss anymore. You don't have to suck up."

"I'm not kidding," Macen said sternly, "You've always been beautiful but now that beauty is seasoned. It enhances your allure."

"Oh, listen to the shuk you're shoveling," Ro laughed. Seeing him scowl she could barely contain her mirth, "Alfonso has told me the very same thing and I didn't believe him either. If I can't take it from him, what makes you think you even remotely stand a chance?"

"You may protest but deep down you enjoy it," Macen countered.

"Says who?" she taunted.

"My people are low level empaths as well as being Listeners," Macen warned, "I can feel your inner radiance at the thought."

Ro grinned, "Okay, but don't tell anyone."

"I'll only tell Celeste and Lees," Macen promised.

"Lees" was the nickname for Lisea Danan. The Trill scientist had stayed by Macen's most of the passing years despite their break up and his subsequent marriage to T'Kir. Now she was married to Tom Riker. Riker was the transporter generated doppelganger of Captain Will Riker. Both Rikers had achieved their dreams of starship command. Will Riker was the CO of the Luna-class deep space explorer USS Titan. Tom Riker was the CO of the Nova-class surveyor SS Obsidian.

The Obsidian was a civilian ship but she served the SID by ferrying Macen's SID team around and serving the team's needs. Macen had been the ship's original commander but when he and T'Kir were incarcerated for murder Riker went from being XO to CO. Upon his release from the penal colony, with Starfleet's apologies, Macen had been content to let Riker stay in the center seat.

Riker had absolute dominion over the ship and her crew but Macen was the Mission Commander and she went where he sent her. His team was off limits to Riker. They generally lent a hand where their talents lay but they were outside of the ship's chain of command.

Initially this had caused friction between the two commands but they'd since resolved their differences. The only SID agent that nominally sat under both commands was Danan. She was the ship's Chief Science Officer as well being the team's Sciences Specialist. Fortunately she wasn't required to engage ion much field work.

Ro was about to make a snarky comment when her comm chirped, "Captain Ro, please report to Ops."

Ro frowned. Ops lay outside her office doors. They couldn't have someone deliver the message personally?

Ro stepped out and Macen followed. His Starfleet rank of Commander may be inactive but his Starfleet and Federation Security Clearances were rated far above Ro's. Her Chief of Operations waved her over to the comm panel.

"Ma'am, we started receiving a subspace signal ten minutes ago. We thought it was an echo of some kind but it appears to be legitimate," she said.

"What kind of signal is it?" Ro asked.

"It's a distress call from the USS Endeavor. I queried the deployment logs to see where she was broadcasting from but it came up as a classified operation. I thought you'd want to know," her Chief told her.

Ro frowned, "I don't recall being briefed on the Endeavor being in our area."

"That's just it, ma'am. This signal has been bounced off a few dozen subspace relays. I queried the signal ID markers and all of the relays were placed by the Endeavor herself and fairly recently. There's no record of them in the Starfleet Subspace Comm Network."

"You're certain?" Ro inquired. She was beginning to like this less and less all the time, "How long ago was this signal sent?"

"Time stamps put it as being a week out," the Chief answered.

"Do we have clear reception?" Ro wanted to know.

"Fairly clear. Something partially jammed the signal at the source. However it doesn't appear to be deliberate. It was more like a distortion caused by a massive energy burst," the Chief went on to explain.

"Could weapons fire account for the distortion?" Ro asked.

The Chief nodded, "That's one possibility."

"Have you viewed the transmission?" Ro hated to ask.

"No, ma'am. I figured if I was cleared to know anything the computer would've told me where the stupid ship was," the Chief grinned.

"Good thinking," Ro smiled in return. She turned to Macen, "Want to see what's going on?"

Macen smiled back, "I wouldn't miss it."

---

Chapter Three

Macen and Ro first accessed the Endeavor's mission profile and then they watched the transmission from the doomed ship. It was a multi-tiered transmission. Sensor data, flight recorder logs, and previous logs from the captain and crew were included. When the flight recorder's transmission terminated, Ro angrily deactivated the monitor.

"What an idiot!" she angrily declared.

"You'll find no arguments from me. The question is: what are you going to do about it?" Macen idly wondered.

"I'm passing this off to Starfleet Command," Ro hastily said.

"I think you should flag it for Starfleet Intelligence," Macen suggested, "The Endeavor was at Omicron at their behest. Alynna should be the first to get this report. She'll disseminate it as she's fit."

Ro grimaced, "The way she 'disseminated' information through you during our time with the Maquis?"

"It wasn't that bad," Macen chided her attitude, "You got access to Starfleet Intelligence's data files and Lees and I all in exchange for being prodded into a mission or two."

Ro stabbed a finger in his direction, "Don't play coy with me, mister. You don't think I didn't know you were tailoring your findings in such a way as to guide me and our cell towards creating as much damage as possible all for Starfleet's benefit?"

"Of course I thought you knew. I actually told you on occasion. You willingly went along with though so everything was copacetic," Macen argued, "You do realize that all of the top Starfleet officers in the Maquis had their minders?"

Ro glared at him, "What?"

"Chakotay had Tuvok serving undercover so that Voyager could apprehend him. Tom Riker was observed by Section 31. Cal Hudson had Bret Collander and Svetlana Korepanova was watched by her lover," Macen described the situation.

"Kem Terl was Section 31? He was a Bajoran for Prophet's sake!" Ro exclaimed.

"A Bajoran that had served in Starfleet Security," Macen reminded her, "I haven't uncovered Eddington's Section 31 observer yet but I know he had one, if he wasn't Section 31 himself. That would explain why the identity has remained so elusive."

"You're saying Michael Eddington belonged to Section 31?" Ro couldn't believe her own ears.

"It appealed to his romanticism. He was saving the Federation from foreign foes. The Maquis just became a microcosm of that struggle. It became a cause he could wholeheartedly throw himself into,"

"You're nuts," Ro accused.

"You only think so because I'm probably right," Macen countered.

"Look, I had my differences with Eddington but that doesn't mean I think he was manipulating the Cause at the behest of an ultra-clandestine agency that doesn't officially exist," Ro struggled with the idea.

"He's not my only suspect," Macen disclosed, "Sarina Douglas is stationed aboard this station now, isn't she?"

"Yes, Starfleet Intelligence allows her to operate off the station so that she had Dr. Bashir can shack up together," Ro confirmed what Macen already knew.

"Her SI file is an interesting read. She's a probable candidate for S31. We already know they reached out to Bashir," Macen continued.

"He refused. Twice," Ro wanted to end this conversation now.

"What better bait than a lover?" Macen asked.

Ro gaped at him, "Has T'Kir's death and resurrection made you a total cynic? Whatever happened to the beauty of love? It took a long time for those two to get together. Why do you want to spoil it?"

"Alfonso has been a bad influence on you, Laren. A few years ago you would have stared into the abyss and never flinched," Macen commented.

Ro glared at him long and hard but she also considered his words. Slowly, ever so incrementally her expression softened and eventually settled on wary incredulity.

"Okay, you may be right. What can be done about it?" Ro wondered.

"Being an S31 agent isn't illegal," Macen admitted, "But a few discreet observations regarding her travels might yield where her true loyalties lay."

"I've read your, Bashir's and Elias's reports on S31. I have to say I'm not surprised they exist and I have to confess sometimes I'm glad they do," Ro stated, "After all, they were the original SID. Your whole agency was created in response to Section 31 so that Starfleet would have that type of flexibility."

"The SID never spawned a Cell 51," Macen retorted, "S31 did."

"Cell 51's coup was stopped. You were part of the process in stopping them. Your friend Bob Johnson and the crew of the Intrepid are more directly responsible for that success than anybody," Ro reminded him.

"That's how I met Bob. Breaking him out of that lunar prison Cell 51 had him trapped in began our history," Macen recalled.

"A moment that both of you regret from time to time," Ro quipped.

Macen shot her a dirty look. Ro grinned, "Look at it this way, if you didn't know Johnson you wouldn't have another ally on the Council of 5."

"You're not even supposed to know about the Council," Macen accused.

Ro's grin blossomed into a smile, "Elias thought I should be apprised. What're you going to do?"

Macen considered his options. The Council of 5 was Starfleet's ultra top secret committee on interstellar and domestic security. The Heads of Starfleet Security, Starfleet Intelligence, the SID, the Alpha Quadrant Theater Commander, and the Starfleet Diplomatic Envoy were the members.

Macen's nemesis, Admiral Edward Jellico, had been the Alpha Quadrant Commander but now he'd been bumped up to Commander-in-Chief of Starfleet. He'd weathered the Borg invasion and now he was embroiled in the cold war with the Typhon Pact. He wished he had his old job back.

Leonard James Akaar was the Capellan that had replaced Jellico. He was over a century old and wise beyond his years. However, he was a stern believer in proper procedures, protocols, and regulations. While he saw the necessity of the skullduggery that SI and the SID engaged in, he was less than enthusiastic about it. He was often a vocal opponent of the SID's methodology. That frequently put him at odds with Macen.

Starfleet Security was headed by Edward Noyce, a long time friend of Robert Tavar Johnson. Noyce had helmed Security for over a decade now. The man was over 80 years old but still as sharp and vital as ever. If Elias Vaughn were any indicator, Noyce had decades of service ahead of him. Vaughn had retired at 114 and was still an active security consultant. Macen's oldest friend had given Starfleet 93 years of active service. Macen had known him for over half of those.

Alynna Nechayev, more frequently known as the "Ice Queen" of Starfleet had sat as Director of Starfleet Intelligence since 2369. During her 19 years of service, the agency had been totally revamped. It was now nearly unrivaled amongst the Khitomer Accord nations. And that was saying something when you were dealing with Cardassians. Of course, the Romulans' Tal Shiar had matched SI move for move. Commander P'ris was an example of this.

The Romulans survived the loss of Romulus and Remus and managed to maintain control of their empire. While many had predicted that the Romulan Star Empire would become a second rate power within the Typhon Pact, Nechayev had argued the reverse. She'd been vindicated and now she wielded a voice amongst the Federation Council and its allies. Fortunately, she was wise enough to rarely use it.

Her protégé, Amanda Forger, sat as Director of the Special Investigations Division. Forger had risen through the ranks in Internal Affairs before transferring to SI. Her keen intellect and nearly unerring instinct had led Nechayev to groom the younger woman. She'd been at the top of a very short list to head the SID when it was created.

Forger had been at odds with Macen at first. That antagonism had evaporated as the agency switched to employing civilian assets. Starfleet regulations no longer applied so they were enthusiastically damned.

Bob Johnson occupied the final seat on the Council. He'd served as the original CO of the Galaxy-class USS Intrepid. He'd been promoted on the advent of her destruction. Now his former XO, James McKinley, served as CO for the Akira-class ship that had been christened USS Intrepid-A.

Bob had always relied more on his diplomatic skills than his ship's firepower. Starfleet recognized this and appointed him as Starfleet's Diplomatic Envoy in appreciation of his work. What this meant was he and his flagship served as roving troubleshooters putting out brush fires wherever they were sent. And of course, McKinley and the rest of his old crew served as the stick that put the teeth in Johnson's diplomatic pitches.

---

"I trust you with the secret," Macen assured her, "I just wouldn't mention it to The Powers That Be."

An impish twinkle lit up in Ro's eyes, "Where's the fun in that?"

"Just send a copy of the transmission along with any observations you have regarding it," Macen advised.

Ro sketched off a mock salute, "Yes, sir!"

Ro tapped in a few choice comments and then transmitted. A perfunctory message from SI appeared. She looked over to Macen.

"I'm off duty in three minutes. Want to catch dinner?" she asked.

"Sure. It'll give me a chance to round up Celeste," he smiled.

"You do realize that I'm never going to look at her the same again?" Ro cheekily inquired.

Macen sighed, "Of course."

---

Rockford and Hannah Grace had utilized a holosuite. Grace wanted to go rock climbing and since they weren't going to be in port long enough to avail herself of some real cliffs on Bajor, she'd recruited Rockford to tackle some fake ones. Rockford had Quark whip up a customized special on the spot and he equipped them replicated gear and target pistols.

"What're these for?" Grace wondered.

Rockford flashed her a Cheshire grin, "You'll see."

---

An hour later...

Grace and Rockford stumbled out of the holosuite and made it down to the bar where they returned all of the rented equipment. Seeing the scrapes and bruises covering the two women, Quark had to ask one question.

"Did you break my holosuite?" he wondered.

"No," Rockford chastised him for thinking such a thing.

"Then why are you two so beat up?" Quark asked.

"Remember when I asked you to incorporate tactical simulation WEX-1138?" Rockford asked.

"Yes," Quark didn't understand yet.

"Look it up some time," Rockford smirked as she walked off.

Out on the Promenade, Grace wheeled on Rockford; "What was the big idea putting a Tzenkethi base on top of the mountain?"

"Haven't you ever seen the human movie, the Eiger Sanction?" Rockford asked.

"Why would I?" Grace demanded to know.

Rockford smirked, "If you're going to keep passing yourself off as human you may want to look up some of their pop culture."

"But I'm not human," Grace pouted.

"So go ahead, announce to everyone that 'I'm not human. I just look this way because my extragalactic ancestors tried to invade your galaxy and discovered they couldn't survive here without adopting your forms.' That'll be a good icebreaker at a party," Rockford quipped, "Besides, it's not like another Kelvan will have anything to do with you. You've gone 'native' and you're a bad influence."

Grace planted her fists on her hips and goty into Rockford's face, "What about you? You're an Angosian Augment. Your own people didn't know what do with you so they traded you off to the Federation in exchange for membership in the UFP. I'm not the only one pretending to be human here. You just count on enough people being ignorant of that little purple and blue scar on your right temple. 'Cause if they recognize it, you're blown and they know what you really are."

"Touché," Rockford said dryly.

"Well, I learned for the best," Grace said sadly.

"You really miss T'Kir, don't you?" Rockford asked.

"She commed me a few weeks ago and it was like she was dead or something. Sure, she knew all of her facts about her and I but the connection wasn't there anymore," Grace complained.

Rockford prompted Grace to move off to the side, "Yeah, she made the rounds a few weeks ago. She commed Brin too."

"How'd that go?" Grace wondered.

"About the same as what you endured," Rockford shared.

"How'd he take it?" Grace was protective of her commander.

"It bothered him but he also knew it was a possibility. He'd moved on without her and she decided to do the same. The thing was, he was happy for her. He'd said she was at peace, which was a first."

Grace thought about it, "No, peaceful definitely didn't describe T'Kir. My description of her when she called would be 'serene'."

"Which I don't ever recall seeing her as," Rockford commented, "Does that bother you?"

"I guess not," Grace said glumly as she accepted defeat. She'd known for some time now that her friend wouldn't return. Grace had warmed up even more to Rockford after T'Kir died. Before she'd accepted Rockford but on T'Kir's behalf.

After the Vulcan's death, Grace had begun to seek Rockford out and engage her in different activities. That had intensified in the last few weeks. Rockford had guessed that T'Kir had also contacted her when she touched bases with Macen. Now that suspicion was confirmed as fact.

Despite the knowledge that she was playing second fiddle, Rockford didn't have the heart to turn Grace away. The simple truth was that she needed a friend as badly as Grace did. She'd inherited a lot from T'Kir. First her man and now her closest friend. Rockford wondered what else lay lurking in the shadows ahead.

"Hey!" Macen called out as he and Ro approached.

Rockford smiled and waved back. She turned to Grace, "He's going to ask you to dinner. Are you coming with?"

"I'd better not," Grace deferred, "I can..."

Rockford grabbed her arm and began to drag her on an intercept course, "You're coming with."

"Then why did you ask?" Grace pouted.

"To give you the opportunity to make the smart decision. You didn't. Now we do it the hard way," Rockford blithely informed her.

"Okay, I'll come. You can let go now," Grace insisted.

"You run and I will tackle you," Rockford warned her.

"Yes, mother," Grace sing-songed.

Rockford grinned. For all of her apparent youth, she was over eighty Earth years old. Grace wasn't even half that yet. It was good for her to bow before the Angosian's hard earned wisdom.

They stopped in front of the other party. Rockford smiled, "So where are we eating?"

"You must be a detective to have figured out we were going to ask you that," Ro joked.

"It was a fair bet," Rockford shrugged, "What I don't know is what mission info you two are waiting on."

Ro's eyebrows went up as her face registered her surprise, "How did you...?"

"It's in your body language. You're fairly aggressive most of the time but something has got you on edge right now," Rockford explained, "Of course, you're the hard one to read since I don't know you all that well."

She pointed at Macen, "Him, he's like an eager kid at the sweet shop."

Macen exchanged a proud glance with Ro. She shrugged, "We were thinking the Bolian diner."

Rockford smiled her approval, "Good enough. While we're waiting for our meals, you can explain what the fuss is about."

"I don't know if..." Ro started to protest.

"Laren, I'm going to tell her sooner or later. We might as well make it sooner," Macen advised.

Ro scowled, "Life would be so much easier if you learned to hide things from your partners."

"Really bad idea," Macen retorted.

"But she's not a telepath. It's not like she can root around in your head to get the info," Ro grumbled.

"Really bad idea," Macen repeated, "It sets a bad precedent."

Rockford smiled, "Is it any wonder why I love him?"

She leaned in and kissed Macen on the lips, "Don't you dare change."

"Yes, ma'am," he grinned.

"Whatever. Let's eat," Ro urged.

---

The pair described the gist of the Endeavor's final transmission. Rockford and Grace were immediately intrigued...and a little frightened if they'd ever admit it. The meals had been finished and they were settled into coffee when Ro's comm badge chirped. She exchanged a knowing glance with Macen.

She tapped her comm badge, "Ro here."

"Incoming message from Starfleet Intelligence," the comm officer reported, "Admiral Nechayev is holding for you."

"Inform the admiral that I'm on my way," Ro replied.

Ro looked to Macen, "You know she'll ask for you so you might as well come along."

"Celeste is joining us," Macen insisted.

"Brin..." Ro growled.

"She's my second in command. She needs to know the op before the rest of them team does."

Ro jerked a thumb in Rockford's direction, "You're coming too."

"Why thank you," Rockford dryly replied.

"Don't get sassy. Thank your boyfriend and not me. If it were up to me you'd stay here and cool your heels," Ro declared.

"I'd have never guessed," Rockford replied in faux shock.

"Cute," Ro opined sardonically, "Are you coming or what?"

Rockford took one last sip of her coffee, scooted her chair back, and rose, "Right behind you."

"We've all got some bad news coming so be ready for it," Ro warned.

"Trust me. That's the story of my life," Rockford replied.

For some reason, Ro didn't doubt. Not even a little bit.

---

Chapter Four

Ro sat behind her desk and utilized her monitor mounted there. Macen and Rockford shared the office's two chairs and viewed Nechayev's image on a wall monitor. The admiral received a split screen view that revealed a close up of Ro and a widescreen shot of the SID agents.

Nechayev's expression was baleful one, "Brin, are you certain you want to have Detective Rockford here for this brief?"

"She's my deputy. What I know she'll know," Macen promised.

"Captain, Detective, if you'll clear the room for a moment?" Nechayev requested.

Ro ushered Rockford out of her office and the two women stood outside on the landing situated before the elevated office. Rockford dryly noted, "I seem to be a problem."

"I really hope you're not. For your sake," Ro warned.

Rockford arched an eyebrow, "Do you have something to say, Captain?"

"Yes, a lot of things, Detective," Ro said crossly.

"Then feel free," Rockford urged, "I certainly won't hold back."

"You're trouble. Maybe right now while you're Celeste Rockford, Private Investigator; but you won't always be Rockford. Someday, somewhere, Annika Ryst is going to want her body back and what happens then? Ryst doesn't like Brin, much less love him. And do I even have to mention she keeps trying to kill him?"

Rockford smirked, "It seems you already have."

Seeing Ro's death glare, Rockford continued; "Annika wants to be me. She's a broken vessel. Of all of us, I'm the only option that offers a life with hope."

"I take it Brin is largely responsible for Ryst's condition?" Ro asked.

Rockford squirmed, "Um, yeah."

"That raises the same question all over again, doesn't it?" Ro's question was snarky.

Rockford's eyes bored into Ro, "That's a hypothetical. What's the real problem here?"

Ro met her gaze unflinchingly but there was a glimmer of doubt in her eyes, "I don't know what you mean."

"It's because I'm not T'Kir," Rockford pronounced, "Well get used to it. The past is over and she's not coming back. She's made that abundantly clear."

"That's all true. Believe me when I say I'm used to having to leave things in the past otherwise I'd be haunted by so many ghosts I'd never eat or sleep again. That still doesn't make you the best choice for Brin," Ro asserted.

"I didn't make that choice. He did," Rockford countered.

The pair just stood there studying each, gauging one another. Finally a smirk appeared on Ro's face.

"You don't flinch or back down. You'd have made a hall of a Maquis," she opined.

"I'm nothing. You should face Annika," Rockford counseled.

"So I've heard," Ro conceded, "Okay, you passed the first test. You've convinced me to give you a chance. I didn't approve of T'Kir either but she eventually convinced me. She was crazy too so I should trust Brin's judgment and give you that chance."

"Gee, thanks," Rockford quipped.

"Don't push me," Ro growled, "I'm trusting you with the life of my closest friend. Don't take that lightly."

"I won't," Rockford promised, "Trust me."

She gazed through the office window, "I wonder what they're talking about now."

"Whatever it is, he doesn't look happy," Ro observed.

"What is your problem with Celeste?" Macen asked.

"Maybe because she's also Annika Ryst, a known operative for the Orion Syndicate and wanted for a murder on Barrinor?" Nechayev asked tartly.

"She isn't Annika Ryst anymore!" Macen countered.

"Yes, Amanda filled me in on the psychobabble. She was a Lone Ranger operative for the Angosians. What the hell makes her qualified to be second banana for a SID team?" Nechayev demanded, "Being your lover automatically grants her command prerogatives?"

"If it's any consolation, she wasn't my first choice, or even my second," Macen admitted, "Gantz was my first choice. Sindis took care of that option."

Nechayev blanched, "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Radil was my second choice but she flatly refused. She's quite content with her shipboard duties as Chief of Security for the Obsidian and as Security Specialist for the team. She wants to be no more than a mid-level grunt. I can't push her to go further. It'd be a bad fit," Macen shared, "Celeste stepped in after Gantz's death and T'Kir and I were incarcerated. She held the team together while Tom did his best to destroy it through neglect. She had no support whatsoever and a hostile ship driver yet she managed to keep them together and they even managed to stay sharp. That was because of her."

"Yet you set a precedent with T'Kir," Nechayev accused.

"T'Kir got the job because of our telepathic rapport. Our years of serving together during the Maquis Rebellion helped but it was our years together with the SID that were the clincher. She had access to my plans, all of them, even the ones that had remained unspoken. We could synchronize units with an inhuman precision because it was inhuman," Macen explained.

"Still, it was highly irregular," Nechayev sniffed.

"How? You let Elias and his wife serve together. It also cost her her life. That fact allowed Elias to offer comfort to a greater degree than anyone save Rockford," Macen shot back.

"Yes, she was highly motivated," Nechayev snorted.

Macen grew very quiet. Nechayev knew she'd crossed a line. Macen's eyes bespoke of an inner fire. The last time she'd seen this reaction was when she'd belittled T'Kir after her inclusion to his SID team. She'd wondered how deep his feelings for the Angosian ran. Now she knew that he loved her with the depths of his soul.

"Brin, I..." Nechayev uncharacteristically faltered.

"Save it," Macen advised, "Celeste has done nothing but validate my trust in her since I put her on the team and if you're too blind to see that we might as well skip any further conversation. The plain truth is that she's going to sit in on this briefing or I'm not going to either."

Knowing he was deathly serious she consented, "Bring Ro and Rockford back in."

Macen retrieved the ladies and they retook their seats. Nechayev noted that Ro looked rather bemused. Macen still looked intransigent while Rockford looked like the proverbial cat that had nabbed the canary while its owners were out.

Nechayev opted to ignore Rockford's smug expression. Mentioning anything about it would just start another fight. A remote part of the admiral was jealous. She wished she had a paramour that would sally forth to her defense, especially since she didn't typically need it.

"The Endeavor was dispatched on a follow up mission to the SID's encounter there several years ago. The overture you made gained us permission to study their culture and technology." Nechayev acknowledged Macen's contribution and then she continued, "The ship was commanded by one Adolae Thrax. Thrax was less than stellar officer."

Ro snorted and Nechayev scowled, "In fact, Thrax entirely owed his position to his uncle, Rogul Thrax, who is the Chair of the Federation Council's Appropriations Committee. He knew his nephew was a miserable failure so he flexed his bureaucratic muscles to secure Thrax a command of his own."

"The point being, Adolae Thrax would never have been promoted above the rank of Lieutenant J.G. if it hadn't been for the Councilor. Seeing as how the usual protocols had been usurped during the Dominion War, Starfleet Command, particularly the Bureau of Personnel, continued to look the other way," Nechayev was unapologetic despite her own feelings of regret regarding the matter, "Captain Thrax assumed command just prior to the Borg incursion two years ago. We kept him out of the way buy having him escort refugee convoys to the outer systems."

"Sending him to Omicron was more of the same," Nechayev confirmed what her audience already suspected, "The Omicron are no longer hostile so it seemed that Thrax couldn't get himself, or the Federation, into any trouble. We loaded up his ship with specialists and gave him a command staff fully aware of the necessity to...interpret his orders."

Nechayev was downcast, "His response to the presence of unknown lifeforms was exactly as it had always been feared it would be. Confronted with a fusion or organic and inorganic technology, Thrax assumed the Borg had returned and assumed a hostile posture. He attacked without warning and no attempt at communication was ever made with these people. For all we know we're now at a state of war with them."

Nechayev was grave when she next spoke, "The sensor readings of these bioships are off the charts. Their masters have harnessed technologies we haven't dreamt of yet."

"Could these ships house the originators of the Omicron genome?" Macen suddenly asked.

Nechayev nodded, "That's our suspicion."

"What does Starfleet intend to do about it?" Ro asked.

"We're assembling a special diplomatic task force under the command of Admiral Johnson," Nechayev answered.

"Isn't a task force a little provocative?" Macen wondered, "Especially since we fired first?"

"The President, the Secretary of Defense, the Starfleet C-in-C, and the Council believe a display of strength is now necessary to ward off any aggressive response from these unknowns," Nechayev fed them the official line.

"But you feel differently and I'm betting Bob does too," Macen guessed.

Nechayev wore a rueful smirk, "My feelings are irrelevant. As for Admiral Johnson, he did suggest we show a modicum of restraint and only send the Intrepid into Omicron space."

"But he was overridden," Macen pointed out the obvious.

"Admiral Jellico felt we should negotiate from a position of strength. Admirals Akaar and Noyce agreed. The greatest factor came when President Bacco and her Cabinet endorsed Starfleet's current plan. The Federation Council's Committee on Interstellar Security also approved of the measure. So the die is cast," Nechayev explained.

"Famous words," Macen commented.

"Admiral, which ships are being assigned to this task force?" Ro inquired.

"The USS Intrepid, the USS Enterprise, the USS Hood, the USS Monitor, the USS Merrimack, the USS Aventine, and the USS Defiant," Nechayev counted down the roll call. Seeing Ro's stunned expression, she added; "Yes, Captain. You're included in that list."

"I couldn't help but notice that list is comprises the bulk of Starfleet's dedicated 'troubleshooters'," Macen observed.

"It is a rather large problem," Nechayev dryly retorted.

"Then may I point out that Captain Calhoun and the USS Excalibur are missing as well as Captain Will Riker and the USS Titan. And what about Captain Chakotay and the USS Voyager? They negotiated their way through half the Delta Quadrant." Macen asked cheekily.

"Calhoun's and Chakotay's commands have already been redeployed to lead a fleet-wide counterstrike should the negotiations fail," Nechayev grimly reported, "Riker's ship is being held as a last ditch reserve."

"Why him?" Macen wondered.

"He saved Earth from Locutus and the Borg. Command has every confidence he can do so again," Nechayev again listed the official rationale.

"That's frinxing stupid," Macen opined.

"Brin, I'll tolerate a lot from you but I won't accept disrespect from you," Nechayev warned.

"Does this mean you're not going to ask me to go to Omicron space?" Macen sarcastically inquired.

Nechayev sighed, "No. I discussed the situation with Amanda and she made the proposed contract you're being offered."

"Do you want to cover the salient points or should I wait for the official contract?" Macen was far more agreeable now.

Nechayev pursed her lips and gave him a withering glare as if to scold him. It didn't matter. Macen was unfazed.

"You are to proceed to the outskirts of the Omicron system. There you will spend three days observing inner system and you will recover the Endeavor's log buoy so. All while going undetected, of course," Nechayev smirked.

"Of course," Macen quipped, "And when am I supposed to set out and accomplish this little miracle?"

"Yesterday," Nechayev teased, "So you're late and should cast off ASAP."

"You do realize that my crew hates you?" Macen asked.

"Spare me, it comes with the territory. Besides, I'm not involved. This all officially rests on Amanda's head," Nechayev retorted.

"Trust me, there's enough hate to go around," Macen replied.

"You're contract should transmit upon termination of this conference. Good luck, Brin. I think you'll need it more than ever," Nechayev left a lot unsaid.

The screen returned to the Federation seal. A few minutes later, Ro's comm badge chirped.

"Ro," she simply said.

This time it was her XO, Prynn Tenmei, that delivered the news, "Sorry Captain but a document squirt came through for Commander Macen. It also looks like we have operational orders for the Defiant. Want to look at them?"

"Transfer them to my desk and then report to my office. You're going to love this one," Ro predicted.

"Sounds interesting," Tenmei remarked.

---

Moments later she was in Ro's office reviewing the ship's standing orders on a padd. She grinned, "Looks like I'll be up to my eyeballs with fancy flying."

Lt. Commander Tenmei was the Defiant's XO and CONN/OPS Officer. Like any true child of Elias Vaughn, she relished a challenge. Ro warned her to be prepared for what she was about to see. Tenmei watched the destruction of the Endeavor. Afterwards, she whistled appreciatively.

"That took how long?" she asked.

"Three seconds ticked off the clock between the enemy firing and the near destruction of the Endeavor." Ro explained.

"I think it's a little early to call these people, whoever they are, enemies," Macen interjected.

"They destroyed a starship. That makes them enemies," Ro argued.

"Bull," Rockford insisted, "We fired first. They were simply defending themselves."

"Hell of a response though," Tenmei added, "You'd think with that kind of tech they could gauge their response better. We don't know them which means they don't know us. Why not take prisoners and find out more about us?"

"It may not be in their cultural imperative," Macen stated the option no one wanted to consider.

"Who doesn't take prisoners?" Tenmei pointedly asked, "Even the Jem'Hadar take prisoners."

"If they're ordered to," Macen amended her statement, "The Metron are another species that was willing to slaughter the losers of their 'little contest' between Kirk and the Gorn captain. Their methods of judging a species seem awkward to us but they're perfectly logical to their mentality. This species may see First Contact as a moral litmus test."

"We'd better hope not," Ro said darkly, "Because we utterly failed."

---

UFP President Nenietta Bacco prowled around her office. The former Governor to Cestus III had weathered the several storms during her tenure in office, the most drastic of which had been the Borg invasion. She had four more years in office and then she would have to seek re-election or step down. Both options looked appealing right now for completely different reasons.

Joining her this afternoon were her Chief of Staff and her Federation Secretary of Defense. Her Chief, one Esperanza Piniero, was a former Commander in Starfleet. Piniero had once been Admiral Nechayev's Chief of Staff. She'd resigned after the Battle for Cardassia, which she participated in aboard the USS Gorkon. She'd returned home to Cestus III to find her parent's old friend, Bacco, serving as Governor. It was Piniero that had convinced her to run for the Presidency and even managed her campaign. When Bacco won she rewarded/punished Piniero by making her the President's Chief of Staff.

Raisa Shostakova served as SecDef. She was from a high gravity world and was built like a squat brick. No one on the Palais had ever dared test her strength. They simply didn't want to get pounded into the mat.

Bacco was enjoying a red wine while Piniero nursed a Jack Daniels whiskey. Shostakova was completely ethnic and was imbibing with chilled vodka on ice. The ladies shifted to Bacco's desk, which dominated a curved corner of the room. The two chairs laid out before it shared an end table.

"So how bad is our scenario with these mysterious entities? Really?" Bacco asked, "Did Thrax totally screw the pooch and we'll be unable to salvage the pieces?"

Piniero and Shostakova exchanged a wary glance. The SecDef addressed the question, "We have no hard intel to support any conclusion. However, Commander Macen suggested a few theories to Captain Ro before he and Detective Rockford departed her office to assemble his crew and plan for their mission."

"This is that Brin Macen that Delane warned me about? The one that lost us Felkor III?" Bacco wanted to know.

"In all fairness, Macen didn't lose Felkor. Chief Conciliator Blek had already negotiated their entrance into the Typhon Pact's hegemony. The Orion Syndicate was there to make sure the exchange took place. They saw Blek's ouster as the guarantee of their success. Macen's participation secured the release of Ambassador Blevins and Admiral Johnson," Piniero clarified.

"I know Macen is Nechayev's former golden boy, Eppy, so you don't have to defend him so vigorously. The matter remains, we got thrown out of the area and the Typhon Pact absorbed our forward stating area into their territory," Bacco complained.

"I believe Macen did what he had to do," Shostakova suddenly declared.

Bacco wore a wry expression, "That's not the tale you were telling six weeks ago, Raisa."

Shostakova looked rueful, "I know but I've had more time to process the data. The Typhon Pact was in and we were out regardless of what we did. Blek is only alive because our forces extracted him and we have him in contact with a burgeoning resistance movement on Felkor as we speak. Macen's orders were, quite frankly, an impossible pipe dream. No one could have accomplished them."

"Not even Captains Picard or Calhoun?" Bacco raised an eyebrow.

"They may specialize in accomplishing the impossible but so does Macen. We finally just asked too much of him," the SecDef shared.

"Admiral Nechayev has utilized both Macen and Calhoun as assets and she even fostered a competitive spirit between them. With the abilities both possess it is no wonder they've become overachievers," Piniero shared.

"And both were hated by Admiral Jellico," Shostakova grinned, "Although Calhoun and Jellico kissed and made up."

"Okay!" Bacco held up a hand to ward off any more verbal assaults from the two women, "Maybe I've been wrong but we won't be able to tell until our negotiations with the Ekosians and the Zeons conclude."

"Great, now we're dependent upon Nazis," Piniero groused.

"They're small and we can contain them," Bacco countered, "Unlike the Typhon Pact."

Piniero rolled her eyes, "Famous last words, Nana."

Bacco's expression soured, "You were saying about Macen's theory?"

"He compared these entities to the Metron," Shostakova ignored Bacco's derisive snort, "He suggested that they didn't take any prisoners because they'd already applied a moral litmus test to us and we failed."

"And what is he basing this on?" Bacco inquired sharply.

"I believe he muttered something about the 'prerogatives of godlike aliens'. We certainly know from experience that higher lifeforms have a finicky relationship with us 'lesser' beings. The Q wanted to destroy us at the outset. The Metron pitted us in a life and death struggle with winner take all. Apollo wanted to enslave us," the SecDef recited.

"Apollo wasn't a god!" Bacco insisted, "He received his power from an external source."

"That may be but it took an advanced civilization to build that power source," Shostakova shot back.

Bacco wanted to argue. She really did but she knew the stocky woman had her, "Continue."

"The Organians were pacifists but even they handed down ultimatums like they were the end all, be all. The aliens living in the Bajoran wormhole have also interfered with our lives," Shostakova reminded everyone.

"And I'll remind you that is the so-called Bajoran 'Prophets" hadn't intervened we would have been facing legions of additional Dominion troops with a never ending supply waiting on the other side of the wormhole," Bacco brought up the niceties of the situation.

"This is why we can't count anything out from our mysterious guests. They may be quite literally capable of anything," Piniero said.

Bacco pondered these facts before speaking again, "Gant Delane thought very highly of Macen. Most of the Council of 5 does as well. Even Jellico grudgingly admits he gets the job done. Just how good is he?"

"He's survived the Cardassians, the Dominion, and the Borg," Piniero answered.

"He was safely tucked away on a penal colony when the Borg attacked last," Bacco retorted.

"No, the Borg assimilated his homeworld over a century ago," Piniero corrected her.

Bacco gave her a quizzical look so she explained further, "Macen is an El-Aurian, with all of the mysteries and extra sensory abilities that entails. The El-Aurians don't discuss their transit through the Delta and Beta Quadrants. They've seen things we've only glimpsed at and scratched the surface of. Before that he was an equivalent of a Starfleet's A & A Officer. During the refugees long flight here, he served as 2nd Officer aboard the Lakul."

"Once he joined Starfleet, SI grabbed him up after his first assignment as an A & A Officer. His career path from that point on is legendary. He was one of those first tapped by SOC for a second billet and he was first on the ground on the Cardassian Border when all hell broke loose. He stayed there throughout the undeclared and declared wars," Piniero explained,

"He formed the very first SID team and has served that agency ever since," Piniero concluded her presentation.

"You left out he joined the Maquis and we had to bribe him to put the uniform back on," Bacco said dryly, "And then he was convicted of murder. A conviction that was overturned on a technicality."

The two staff members gave her quizzical glances and she adopted a predatory smile, "Oh, I know the juicy bits. They're some of the highlights Delane left as part of a sitrep on Federation affairs."

"My question is: can he succeed this time? Or are we asking too much of him again?" Bacco's unbridled sarcasm dripped.

"He has the ship, the crew, and the experience," Piniero replied confidently, "If anyone can do it, he can."

"Let's hope you're right and he can simply play observer. Because if he digs us any deeper with these strangers, I'm going to crucify him and the agency that spawned him." Bacco vowed.

---

Chapter Five

Macen and Rockford rounded up Shannon Forger. Forger was two extraordinary things. She was XO for the Obsidian and she was Admiral Amanda Forger's younger sister. There was ten years difference in their ages but they truly had bonded as sisters.

Amanda had entered Starfleet, as her father had before her, and excelled in the Security Division, quickly earning a transfer to Internal Affairs where she excelled. Shannon had also gone into Starfleet and tried to make a name for herself despite being in her relative's illustrious shadows.

Shannon also opted for the Security route quickly becoming a Tactical specialist. Whereas Amanda was a born investigator, Shannon was a natural fighter. The younger Forger had served as Tactical Chief aboard the USS Kwanza during the Dominion War. Her ship was lost and nearly all hands died, following a strategy she herself had devised. The ensuing investigation cleared her but there was an unwritten black mark on her record afterwards.

Amanda was scouring Starfleet to recruit officers for the SID. They would be retiring their commissions into the inactive reserves and serve as civilian operatives. They would retain their full rank but as on a brevet basis during joint ops with Starfleet regulars.

Shannon had taken great pains to distance herself from her elder sister over the course of her career but this once, she heeded her advice. Forger joined the crew of the SS Obsidian as Chief Tactical and 2nd Officer. She'd been given the role of XO earlier but the constant pressure and demands of the job had enticed to rely upon stimulants and she became psychologically addicted to them.

Tom Riker returned to from his own abbreviated command and he once again filled the XO slot thus returning Forger to the 2nd Officer's slot. When Macen was arrested, convicted, and sentenced to a penal colony Riker resumed command of the Obsidian and he asked Forger to step up as XO. Still somewhat hesitant, Forger accepted and now the crew and ship ran more efficiently than ever before.

Forger met the news of their imminent departure with dismay, "The crew has had it rough. It wasn't just the SID team that got hammered this time out. We got bludgeoned equally across the board."

Macen nodded, "Shannon, I know. I can also say this might be our highest profile mission yet."

"Even more important than taking out the Omicron?" Forger pointedly countered.

"We may be dealing with the beings that created the Omicron," Macen revealed.

"Oh shuk!" Forger blurted.

"Exactly," Macen agreed, I need you and Tom to spend the next four hours assessing the ship and crew. If we aren't up to it then it's off and Starfleet can find some other kamikazes to take our place."

Forger weighed her options, "Sounds fair."

"So scoot!" Macen urged.

Forger darted through the crowds of freighter crews, Starfleet officers, and civilian specialists. Macen and Rockford sought out Grace. She could be found in Quark's stripping people of their latinum over a game of darts.

Grace's enhanced physical attributes guaranteed that she was the winner. Usually. Some species had nearly equal hand/eye coordination. Rockford broke up the game and guided Grace to the table she and Macen had secured. Quark was personally seeing to their order.

"I've heard rumors that Captain Ro and the crew of the Defiant will be setting out soon," he said ingratiatingly, "Some kind of task force."

Macen gave him a wry look so Quark leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "So are you Starfleet types going up against the Tzenkethi or the Breen?"

"Quark, I'm not Starfleet. What makes you think I'd know anything?" Macen inquired.

"Sure, you're not Starfleet. But you work for them. I'm just saying, Ferenginar is a member of the Khitomer Accords. We're on your side. And as the official representative to Bajor I think I'm entitled to know whether or not the space station housing my embassy is going to come under attack," Quark confided.

"Quark, the only reason I haven't squished you like a bug is because you have done me some favors in the past," Macen warned.

"So you owe me," Quark switched tactics.

"I let you put a franchise of your bar on Serenity Station. I think the debt is paid for," Macen opined, "People come from all over the entire system to cavort at Quark's and you get a percentage besides the franchise fee. So you're essentially getting free latinum. Trust me, you've been repaid."

"But..." Quark began to switch gears.

"We've placed our orders. Go fill them. Now," Macen insisted.

They all remained silent while Quark brought back a tray with their beverages upon it. Included was a basket of chips. The Ferengi had invested in an authentic deep fryer and now he had a runaway hit on his hands. People the quadrant over loved English pub grub.

It took a little longer to wait for Quark to give up and move out of his considerable earshot. Macen gave the all clear and Grace immediately asked what this was about.

"I'm afraid I can't brief until we're aboard the Obsidian. What I need to ask you is whether or not you think your people would accept a signal from me?" Macen asked.

"The Kelvan Conclave broke off relations prior to the Borg invasion. Starfleet had me try to reach Parvac on their behalf and the door was slammed in my face," Grace answered.

"But it wouldn't be you. It would be me," Macen angled the concept.

"What makes you think you have a chance when they won't listen to one of their own?" Grace dryly asked.

"It was worth a shot," Macen sighed.

Comm badges across the room went off as Forger began issuing the recall orders. Most grumbled as they left. Macen and company received a few harsh comments or glares.

"Shouldn't we go too?" Grace asked.

"This first part is Tom and Shannon's show. They have to determine whether or not the crew is in any shape to perform the mission," Macen explained.

"Must be a doozy of a mission," Grace guessed.

"You have no idea," Macen replied, "At least not until we finish these chips and go aboard the ship."

"Hey! They're almost gone!" Grace yelped.

Rockford flashed her a victorious grin, "You've been too busy talking to attend to business."

"I don't know how you stay so skinny while eating everything in sight," Grace grumped.

"Get off it. Your metabolism is just as wonderful as mine. You spend half the time in the gym that I do and you've got twice the body. You've got professional athlete tone and you've got boobs and a butt. That's just not fair," Rockford reported.

"Heh heh," Grace gloated.

Rockford rolled her eyes and then she looked to Macen, "Do we really need her?"

"No," Macen said bluntly.

"Hey!" Grace protested, "I'm right here!"

"Yeah, but she is adorable. And she's getting married next month. So maybe we shouldn't send her to the bread line just yet," Rockford suggested.

"Okay, but only because you said so," Macen allowed.

"You two are even worse than when T'Kir was here," Grace complained.

Macen and Rockford exchanged a knowing look. Macen grinned, "So I have a 'type'."

Rockford shrugged, "Such is life."

Macen drained his mug, "Are we done here?"

"Sure. Why not? Somebody already ate all the damn fries," Grace bemoaned.

They departed and returned to the ship.

---

Aboard the Obsidian Riker and Danan were consulting Tessa. Tessa was the ship's EMH. She'd also taken T'Kir's place as resident nymphomaniac. Tessa often prescribed sex with her as a part of the recovery process. She had patients lining up, male and female alike.

Her popularity was about to increase. While the Obsidian was at port, Tessa's main squeeze, Galen 3, had modified her physical appearance. Tessa now sported a fully functional penis in addition to a vagina. She was fully functional and now classified as intersexed. The Hermat's were a representative of such species. They demanded a complicated set of pronouns be applied to them. Fortunately for the crew, Tessa still identified as female. She just had an extra member to deal with now. She'd already given it a test drive with Galen 3 and the possibilities now seemed endless.

While Macen was CO, he'd had holoemitters installed in every compartment of the ship. After all, what was the point of an Emergency Medical Hologram if she was confined to the ship and couldn't travel to the emergency? Macen had solved that quandary with the emitters.

The versatility of the system had been proven when they'd augmented their security force with holograms and beat back a boarding action. Unfortunately, the system could only handle transmitting a maximum of five holograms at a time. Tessa usually used this capability to create whole environments in the Cargo Bays. Galen 3 was her most frequent playmate but other joined in if they were available.

Riker and Dana were inquiring as to the health of the crew.

Tessa shrugged, "They needed a release after our last mission and I can only cover so much ground."

Riker ignored the potential implications of her words, "But can they accept another mission? Right now? As they are, assuming they aren't fully recovered?"

"I'd say they are but I'm going to be extremely busy over the next few days," Tessa warned.

Riker and Danan exchanged a wry glance. Tessa planted her fists on her hips, "What was that about?"

"Honey, T'Kir said it best when she labeled you a slut," Danan gently explained.

Tessa grinned, "But I'm a happy slut."

"So you are," Danan didn't know how to argue with that.

"Tessa, you can't distract the crew, no matter how much fun it is. Crewmen almost got into fights before we made port and they were all vying for your attention. I hate to intervene but this affecting the crew's performance," Riker said.

"So what are you saying?" Tessa sought clarification.

"You are forbidden to have sex with any crewman but Galen 3, effective immediately," Riker declared.

"But what if they really need...?" she began to ask.

Riker held up a hand to silence her, "They don't need it that bad. If they need a release that bad they can act as their own best friend and take care of the problem. Understood?"

Tessa deflated, "Yes, sir."

"You used to have a plethora of hobbies. Maybe you should get back into those," Danan suggested.

"Yeah," Tessa sighed, "Sounds good."

Riker and Danan departed, leaving a disappointed EMH behind. They headed for the bridge. Once there they found Forger having an argument with someone via comm badge. She was really frustrated.

"Just report to the damn ship! Now!" Forger finally growled.

Forger cut the line and massaged her temples. Riker sat down in his seat beside hers and asked her the obvious, "What's wrong?" question.

Forger gave him a dead eye stare, "It's Kalista. Apparently she's hooked up with members of a Talaxian freighter crew and she's refusing to budge until she's indulged herself."

Riker rolled his eyes. What was it with this crew and sex?

"How many members of the crew are we talking? We might make a small accommodation," Riker offered.

"It's the whole crew," an exasperated Forger exclaimed.

"That's a helluva indulgence," Riker quipped.

"Tell me about," Forger grumped, "And where the hell have you been?"

Riker grinned and told him about Tessa's new standing orders. Forger sighed, "About time. She was really screwing with crew morale."

"Yeah, but her morale was higher than ever," Riker teased.

"Spare me," Forger requested.

"Did you ever...?" Riker grinned.

"No!" Forger blurted. Composing herself, she added, "I like men."

"She's got a penis now," Riker nonchalantly dropped that bombshell. Noting Forger's shock at that revelation he asked, "Haven't you known any transgender men and women?"

"Sure, I went to school with a few. I had a couple of girlfriends in the Academy that were transsexual but they all underwent Sexual Reassignment Surgery before graduation. With today's techniques it's common enough procedure especially now that they can stimulate the body to make the right hormones and you don't need to take them externally," Forger described those she'd known.

"Then why are you reacting to Tessa's change so...badly?" Riker wanted to know.

"Is she transsexual or is she intersexed?" Forger asked.

"Intersexed," Riker answered.

"Figures," Forger said darkly. She stood abruptly, "I have to make an appearance in my office and let the crew complain."

The turbolift doors closed behind her and Riker turned to Danan, who occupied the Science station, "What did I say?"

Danan smirked, "How extensively have you reviewed Shannon's records?"

"I liked up her Starfleet career. Why? Is there something I should be aware of?" he asked.

"Shannon Forger was born Sean Forger," Danan revealed.

"She's transgender?" Riker was stunned. He'd had no idea, "When did she undergo SRS?"

"She hasn't," Danan stated, "She opted to stay a transsexual."

"She has a...?" Riker gaped.

"Yes, Tom. She has a penis. So do you. Is this going to be an issue?" Danan inquired.

"No, but she should have told me," Riker grumped.

"She opted not to because it really isn't your business. I'm only telling you so you can cheer her up," Danan explained.

"Why would she need cheering up?" Riker wondered.

"Because until now she filled a unique niche in our little community. Tessa's transformation means there's competition for the affections of the few men aboard willing to have relations with her," Danan described the situation.

"Men have sex with her?" Riker shuddered.

"Thomas Riker, you are an absolute cad. Shannon is a sweet woman who has done nothing to you to deserve this treatment. She simply is and you're being prejudiced about it. What's so threatening about her? She's straight. She only sleeps with men. That means all the women are available for you. But you'd better not touch any of them or I'll kill you," Danan remarked.

"Is it really that she's straight? After all she's got a penis," Riker argued.

"She's straight because she's a woman that desires sexual relations with the opposite sex. By the Pools, Tom, have you been living under a rock all of these years?" Danan demanded to know.

"It's just every transgender woman I've known underwent SRS," Riker protested.

"Did you sleep with any of them?" Danan pointedly asked.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. But they had vaginas," Riker summed up his argument.

"You're a caveman," Danan accused, "Right now I can't believe I married you."

Danan moved away from her station and headed for the lift, "I think I'd better make sure the labs are up and running."

"Lees, I..." Riker faltered.

She held up a finger to ward off anything he had to say, "I don't want to talk to. Not until I don't think you're an unbearable prig."

---

Danan dropped by Forger's office and informed her that she'd spilled the beans. Forger was stunned by the description of Riker's reaction.

"I'm no threat to him," she said plaintively, "Besides, even if I was a lesbian, he's off the market."

"He might be back on it in a damn hurry if he doesn't knock some sense into himself," Danan growled.

Forger squeezed her hand, "Thank you, Lisea. You don't know what you're support means."

"I've been a men, women, and once I was transgendered, so I understand," Danan shared.

"Really?" Forger perked up.

"I'll tell you all about tonight at dinner," Danan promised, "My 'husband' might be an optional accessory."

"He's not the first to react that way," Forger sadly commented.

"Well, he shouldn't. It's the 24th Century for goodness sake. The Federation has enjoyed 200 years of sexual equality. It's just primitive of someone to still harbor prejudices because of what sex you were born and/or transitioned into," Danan complained.

Forger grinned, "Preach it, sister."

Danan moved to exit the office and Forger called after her, "Does Commander Macen know?"

Danan graced her with a warm smile, "Honey, he knew before you ever came aboard."

---

Macen gathered the SID team in their dedicated briefing room. Besides Riker, Danan, Rockford, Grace, and Tessa, Radil Jenrya, Rab Daggit, and Eric McMasters were present. Daggit's Orion wife, Parva, was the ship's Chief Engineer and she was sounding out the ship to see if she was up to the task ahead.

Daggit was another Angosian Augment. He'd met Macen during the Dominion War while Ro led a commando unit comprised of Angosians. Macen was the unit's intelligence officer. Ro and Macen experience with DMZ territory and the worlds to either side of the border allowed the unit to operate deep behind the front lines.

After the war, Daggit had been transferred to the Enterprise while he was aboard he advised Captain Picard to fire upon then-Captain Macen over conflicting orders. As an act of penance, Daggit requested a transfer off the flagship of the fleet and volunteered to serve in the SID, specifically Macen's team. At one point he filled the role now occupied by Rockford. He'd retired from the team and became a teacher at the inaugural Security Alliance Academy.

Daggit's decision had largely been shaped by a grave and permanent injury that Parva had sustained. Left with irreparable brain damage and a faulty heart she couldn't serve as Chief of Engineering any more. A heart replacement operation later, combined with re-education classes, she was back at the top of her game and she wanted to serve aboard the Obsidian again. Ever a dutiful husband, Daggit came with and he was back on the team but not as its deputy. He flat out refused to become Macen's lieutenant.

Radil Jenrya had been a mercenary working for the Orion Syndicate when Daggit inadvertently kidnapped her. Given a death mark by the Syndicate, the Bajoran joined the SID team. Reluctant to fully assimilate at first, Radil subsequently threw herself wholeheartedly into her work and into her comrades' hearts. Particularly two comrades in particular.

Radil had rediscovered love with her former deputy, Abigail Collins. Abby Collins had approached Radil and Radil put up a fight but she eventually succumbed to her heart and fell in love with Collins. They'd enjoyed a brief but passionate affair before Collins was killed in the line of duty.

Her other great love was Kort. A Klingon doctor, he was an exile from the Empire who had been selected for the team on short notice by Nechayev. Their relationship had been built on a sliver of mutual respect bulwarked by a tide of lust. They eventually fell apart and Collins came into Radil's life. After Abby's death, Radil turned once again to Kort.

The Klingon had been greatly transformed by the course of his life and he demonstrated to her that he truly and deeply loved her. He loved her in the way that she'd always wanted to be loved. While Macen and T'Kir were incarcerated Radil and Kort were married. It was an open relationship that allowed Radil to fornicate with any woman she wanted to as long as she came home to Kort. They seemed to be genuinely happy despite, or perhaps because of, this arrangement.

McMasters was the newest recruit to the SID. He'd once served as the chief redesign expert that retrofitted Maquis raiders. Virtually every Maquis ship underwent modification at his hands. Only the decommissioned Starfleet scoutship Odyssey had eluded his greedy grasp. The Odyssey had served as Macen's command and was a dedicated intelligence gatherer and scout.

McMasters had served a 5 year stint on a penal colony after being arrested by Starfleet Security. His shop had been confiscated and dismantled. After his release, the Maquis Rebellion had been crushed by the Dominion and the Dominion subsequently had been defeated by Starfleet and its allies.

McMasters moved to Dulces VI where he sat up a shop simply called McMasters Refits. He specialized in modifying, designing, and constructing high performance spacecraft. His reputation had earned him Macen's attention. He was looking to replace the slain Joachim Dracas as the team's Engineering Specialist and he hit McMasters at a good time.

McMasters was bored with his business even though it was a booming one. In the Maquis, he'd gone into the field on several occasions and the adrenalin rush had proven addictive. Macen also had another enticement on his team. Lisea Danan was a member.

Danan and McMasters had shared a week during the Maquis Rebellion. That time had revolutionized McMaster's life. He was hopelessly smitten with her from that point on. Even knowing she was married now didn't dissuade him. He had time.

The team was fully attentive so Macen handed out padds with the pertinent information. The holographic display presented the flight recorder's visuals. They all looked a little stunned when the Endeavor was finally destroyed in the span of 3 seconds. He looked around and simply asked one question.

"Opinions?" he inquired.

---

Chapter Six

The cacophony of noise just kept increasing. Finally Macen placed two fingers in his mouth and blew a shrill whistle that drowned out the noise. That served to get everyone's attention.

"If we could go one at a time?" Macen suggested. Everyone spoke at once and Macen shushed them again, "Tom, you have something to share?"

"Is Starfleet nuts?" Riker hotly demanded, "This ship is lightly armed. Those things wiped out a designated explorer and those things are armed to the teeth because they have to be. They never know what they'll run into. Sending us in a surveyor is tantamount to suicide."

"Actually, I think it's the only part of Starfleet's plan that borders on genius," Macen revealed.

"Are you finally letting on that you have a death wish?" Riker dryly inquired.

"Think about it. It's an observation mission. The Obsidian's strength isn't in her armament but in her sensor package. With the upgrades the SPYards have given us, we may possibly have the most sensitive sensor platform in the Federation. Who better to observe a star system from a distance?" Macen examined the scenario.

"Brin has a point," Danan suddenly stated.

Riker gave her a wounded look and she rolled her eyes, "I'm not disagreeing with you because I'm mad at you, which I still am, by the way. I'm saying it because he's correct. Our sensor package is better than anything Starfleet boasts. We could stay in the Kuiper Belt and still observe the inner system where Omicron is located."

"Our secondary objective is to locate the Endeavor's log buoy. Maybe there will be more answers in it than what we received in their final transmission. It would certainly be less garbled," Macen announced.

"We need to examine the sensor logs to see if they can reveal any weaknesses that the Endeavor failed to exploit," Daggit suddenly said.

"Maybe," Macen mused, "My impression is that they simply didn't have time to react."

"Well, they did launch the first, and second, volleys," Radil added, "It seemed as if the shots just...evaporated."

"According to the sensor logs, the phasers and photons were scattered by a protective field akin to our own electrostatic shields," Macen recounted Starfleet's preliminary analysis, "They did this by attuning to the frequency harmonics of the phasers and torpedoes and simply dissipated them. Their strike against the Endeavor utilized the same technique and their response cut through the ship's shields as if they weren't there."

"It does sound like the Borg," Daggit said darkly, "Which means even transphasic torpedoes are useless because they've already adapted to them."

"Actually, transphasic torpedoes are considered to be the best defense available for now," Macen shared, "Unlike Captain Thrax, Starfleet doesn't consider these visitors to be Borg or Borg related. Their technology is unique to them, as far as we know at this juncture, and it contains no traces of Borg influence."

"Then isn't too bad that we don't have any transphasic torpedoes?" Riker drolly asked.

Macen grinned, "And we're not going to be receiving any. We're a civilian operation. Transphasics are strictly a military asset."

"Figures. They can send us on a military mission but they can't provide us with the means to defend ourselves? How typically bureaucratic," Riker bemoaned.

"Why aren't they sending a Starfleet vessel to conduct this survey?" Radil wanted to know.

"Starfleet got us into this predicament. It wasn't intentional, at least on Command's part, but the individual commander got us into a potential war. The thinking is that by sending a lightly armed, read: effectively defenseless, civilian ship we can avoid the blatant hostilities that doomed the Endeavor," Macen explained Starfleet's rationale.

"And if these mysterious aliens are feeling blatant?" Riker wondered.

"Well, you're a decent ship master. I'm sure you can pull us through," Macen smiled.

"Right," Riker darkly disagreed.

---

Later on the bridge, Riker asked Forger to step into his Ready Room. She eyed him apprehensively as she took a seat. Riker sat down behind his desk and looked utterly miserable.

"Shannon, I'm so sorry. I've been an ass. I'd just never met someone that preferred to remain transsexual before. Rather than respond warmly and graciously, I let myself react like a Neanderthal. Can you forgive me?"

"I wish I could say that you're the first person to react to me this way. There's a lot of pressure on people like me to fully transition and undergo SRS. However, anyone that's given me a chance has never complained about my having...irregular bits," she suddenly broke into a lascivious grin, "Some even prefer it."

"Not to sound rude and prissy but I really don't need a peek into your private life," Riker said, "I'm not sharing stories of my love life with you either."

"No, Lisea does that," Forger wore a naughty grin.

"What?" Riker yelped.

"A bunch of us girls get together and share intimate details once in a while. Maybe you should drop in some time. You'd learn a lot about your crew," Forger playfully suggested.

"If you recall, I leave the crew in your capable hands," Riker reminded her.

Forger sighed, "So you do."

"So, are we ready to cast off?" Riker asked with a grin.

"You do realize that this isn't a boat?" Forger dryly inquired.

"You have no romance in your soul," Riker accused.

"I have plenty of romance. I just don't get to share it very often," Forger complained.

"Business first," Riker cajoled her, "Our departure window opens in 5 minutes. I want us free and clear to navigate in 10, and underway to Omicron in 15."

Forger was instantly alert, "Did you say 'Omicron'?"

"Yes, I'll brief you once we're underway so the faster we depart the sooner you get the goods," Riker offered his carrot.

"Expect me back in here in 7 minutes," Forger promised.

---

It actually took her 8 but Riker wasn't going to quibble, "We're underway?"

"We're transiting the Bajor system now," Forger reported, "We should be clear of it in 45 minutes. What speed should we proceed under?"

"Set a cruising speed of warp 8," Riker suggested, "That'll get us there in our window of 7 days and should also keep Parva off of our backs."

"Good," Forger breathed a sigh of relief and then she grew somber, "Most of the current bridge crew wasn't with us when we faced the Omicron last time. Rhiann remembers them and I almost had to put a phaser to her head to get her to set the course. What kind of hairy mess are we sailing into this time around?"

"I thought this wasn't a boat?" Riker teased.

Forger glared, "It's whatever I say it is. Now answer the damn question."

"Starfleet sent a ship to Omicron. They were conducting a cultural and technological survey," Riker started to explain.

"Why did you say 'they were'?" Forger's guts were crying "foul" already.

"The Starfleet crew accidently sent a signal to an unknown species at an unknown location. That species answered and announced that they were coming. A week ago, three bioships of unknown configuration arrived and destroyed the Starfleet vessel. Of course, to compound things, the Starfleet ship fired first and without warning," Riker described events thus far.

"What kind of idiot starship captain does that?" Forger wanted to know.

"A political appointee. Starfleet Command is collectively kicking their hind quarters. What that leaves us is an unknown force that can destroy a starship in 3 seconds and we're going in to 'observe' them for 3 days before rendezvousing with a Starfleet task force and briefing them," Riker concluded.

"What kind of task force?" Forger wanted to know.

"A so-called 'peace envoy' comprised of Starfleet's most capable heavy hitters," Riker remarked.

"Sounds real peaceful," Forger sourly commented.

"Just between you, me, and the paint on the bulkhead, I totally agree," Riker confided.

"So we just have to figure a way to stay alive if we piss off the unknown baddie?" Forger asked.

"Yep," Riker confirmed it.

"Give me a couple of days and I'll get back to you," Forger offered, "Now, I'm stepping out to babysit the slow crawl out of the system. I presume you'll be hiding in here?"

"You presume correctly," Riker happily agreed.

"Y'know, I think I'm ready for a command of my own. All there is to it is sitting in your Ready Room until called upon and then you just go out and look important while your XO does all the work," Forger opined.

"The secret of my success is out," Riker grinned.

Forger rolled her eyes and exited.

---

Over the course of the next 7 days, tensions mounted as they drew closer to Omicron. The newer crewmen heard tales of horror from the veterans. It got so bad; Riker had to make a ship wide announcement dispelling the rumors. Of course, he didn't tell them the complete truth either or there very well may have been a mutiny.

The SID team reviewed the Endeavor's final logs and moments until they dreamt about it. What they swiftly discovered was that there was too much interference in the transmission to easily extract anything useful from it. They needed the log buoy and they needed it before they reached their destination. Not seeing a way to accomplish that little miracle, they settled back and drew up bare bones contingency plans and then coordinated with the Obsidian's Command Staff to tailor implementing those same plans.

While the others plotted and schemed, Grace and McMasters began work on some performance upgrades to the team's Danube-class runabout, the Corsair. They'd been waiting until they got some yard time at Serenity Station but it seemed that they might need the upgrades done before that so they got to work.

On the 6th day, they completed the work but they had no way of testing anything until the Obsidian dropped out of warp and could deploy the Corsair. Their timing was impeccable because Parva finally broke down and asked McMasters for a consultation. It was a defining moment in their professional relationship. Parva was a mechanical genius and a very proud one to boot. For her to ask for his help charted a clear course in what had been some fairly murky waters.

Daggit and Radil haunted the Security Office. So much so her deputy, Gerrit Gren, kicked them out of the office for a few hours every day. Gerrit had known Radil since they'd fought in the Bajoran Resistance cell. Whereas Radil left Bajor to raise funds for the cell by serving as a mercenary, Gerrit had remained behind to keep the struggle against the Cardassians.

After the Cardassian withdrawal of Bajor, Radil remained offworld and Gerrit joined the reborn Bajoran Militia. When Starfleet seconded the Militia, recreating it as a civil defense force only, Gerrit resigned and accepted a standing offer Radil had made two years before to get him under the Outbound Ventures umbrella and specifically aboard the Obsidian. When Abby Collins stepped down as Deputy, in order to serve as Chief of Security for Riker's command aboard the SS Indomitable, Gerrit had the experience and skills necessary to replace her in her former post.

Gerrit had proven to be the perfect deputy. He stood in for ship's Security while Radil was away on SID missions. To be fair, the Security team had two modes of operation: with Radil and without Radil. Even when Radil was present, they still largely followed Gerrit's lead. Radil know this and regularly consulted with Gerrit to brainstorm training sessions and shipboard tactics.

Daggit and Radil had come to the conclusion that no matter what the Obsidian did, engaging the strange ships would be tantamount to suicide. Perhaps the Endeavor's log buoy would yield some new insights but they rather doubted it. These creatures simply outclassed Federation technology.

Macen and Rockford reviewed the fragments of the ship's officers'' logs. When they'd finished, they summed up what they'd read to each other. It all came down to the simple fact that Captain Adolae Thrax was completely incompetent. He may have started a war that the Federation would be unable to win.

"The Khitomer Accord allies are going to be useless," Rockford pronounced, "We need help from a more advanced source. What about the Organians?"

"They last took corporeal form 70 years ago to mediate a conference between the Federation and the Klingon Empire. No one even knows if they're still on this plain of existence," Macen recounted.

"The Metron?" she asked hopefully.

"Too aloof. They've blockaded their system and no one can get near it," Macen said.

"The Caeliar?" she was getting frustrated.

"They moved to the Delta Quadrant to consolidate the Borg and begin their Great Work," Macen shared.

"Great Work?" she skeptically inquired.

"Contacting an extragalactic civilization equal to theirs or even more advanced," Macen explained.

"Extragalactic brings up the Kelvans," she pointed out.

"They've completely isolated themselves," Macen replied, "I've spent all week trying to contact them and they've ignored every signal. They dropped out of communication with the UFP back in 2386 and they haven't been heard from since."

"Except they could be infiltrating every Federation world," Rockford predicted.

"A very real possibility," Macen agreed.

Well, that only leaves the Q," Rockford opined.

"Who only interfere when it suits their agenda," Macen rebutted.

"Then that doesn't leave us with a whole hell of a lot of options," Rockford huffed.

"Nope," Macen concurred.

Rockford tossed her padd onto her desk, "Want to see if Lees has made any more progress than us?"

"You just want out of the Infosys Center," Macen teased.

"Hell yeah, we've been cooped up in here for six days. When we're not in here we're either eating, exercising, or sleeping," Rockford recited.

"I hear a complaint," Macen noted.

"I want some alternative methods of exercise. I need it to unwind. So do you. Last I heard you hadn't taken any monastic vows so let's get it on," Rockford insisted.

Macen smiled, "Okay, after we visit Lees."

"She'd better wrap it up in 5 minutes or less," she opined. Seeing Macen's bemused smirk, she added, "I'm just saying."

---

Starfleet's task force was underway. The assorted starships had assembled at DS9 and set forth three days after the Obsidian had departed. The Command Staff of each starship had been briefed and were all chewing on the rough data that they had.

Now, three days out from Omicron, Admiral Johnson assembled the starship CO's and their 1st Officers for a conference. While he would have preferred to conduct these meetings aboard the familiar stomping grounds of the Intrepid, her facilities were inadequate for such a large gathering. Captain Picard offered the use of the Enterprise's conference room and his offer was accepted because only the Hood offered as much room. Since Picard was the senior captain, it made logical sense to let him host the conference.

Captain Picard was seconded by Commander Worf. They had a long and storied association. They'd literally saved the Federation on more than one occasion. Their insights would be valuable.

James McKinley was the captain of the Akira-class Intrepid. Commander Jonathan Striker was his XO. They'd risen through the ranks under Johnson's command and they still knew him and his style better than anyone. They'd be a bulwark of support even when others doubted.

Captain Merry Limerick and Selvin Havelick represented the Galaxy-class USS Hood. The Hood was a carrier variant of the respected explorer model starship. Commander Verity Jones, the Rascal Squadron's Flight Operations Officer, was chewing deuterium over being left behind. As it was, the Elvin Captain and Tellarite First Officer were wondering why they'd been called in for a diplomatic mission when they specialized in unorthodox tactical solutions.

Captains Hev Callas and Alec Prine felt the same way. Hev was CO of the Starfleet Intelligence operated USS Monitor. The Monitor was a Defiant-class escort. Hardly a diplomatic ship. Both Hev and his XO, one Annis Valyn, were veterans of the Bajoran Resistance and had been recruited by SI out of the Bajoran Militia. Their ship broke several rules. Hev and Annis were lovers and their entire crew was comprised of Bajorans.

Prine's XO, Lt. Commander Paige Donaldson, was a young veteran of Starfleet's Special Operations Command. It was only a slight stretch that she now served aboard another Defiant-class escort, this one named the USS Merrimack, and it was a Starfleet Intelligence operations vessel.

The final two commanders were those with the least amount of seniority but they're reputations were stellar. They also shared a common link in the form of DS9.

Captain Ezri Dax had been 2nd Officer of the station before transferring to the Vespa-class USS Aventine. She'd served as 2nd Officer for a few scant weeks before the Captain and First Officer were killed by the Borg. Dax had risen to the occasion and been promoted accordingly.

She'd recruited Lt. Commander Sam Bowers from DS9. His promotion to XO included a grade increase to full Commander. Simon Tarses had also left the station to become Dax's CMO. They'd barely begun to settle into their roles when they were called upon to assist Picard and Riker convince the Caeliar to intervene in the Borg's invasion and free the Drones and make the Collective a part of the Caeliar's Gestalt. Since that time, Dax and her crew were among Starfleet's go-to assets.

Captain Ro was the CO with least time in grade but she had a veritable lifetime's worth of experience. In the Maquis, Ro had commanded the Maquis raider named the Indomitable. The name fit the ship and her commander. Ro had waged a 4 year long guerilla war on the ground and in space. A superior tactician, she didn't know what she brought to a diplomat's table but she was more than curious enough to find out. Besides, it reunited her with Picard. She wouldn't pass up the opportunity to show off that she'd justified his faith in her.

Prynn Tenmei flew the Defiant besides acting as her XO. Elias Vaughn's daughter, she'd been station at DS9 for twelve years now. She'd originally come as a snot nosed ensign eager to test her wings flying the legendary starship. She'd never expected to make a career out of it but the Bajor Sector was always full of excitement so she'd never requested a transfer.

---

"So, has everyone had a chance to review what we know so far?" Johnson asked once everyone had settled into their seats, "So what do you think?"

There was a collective groan and Johnson waved it aside, "Captain Thrax's actions aside, what are our chances at a diplomatic solution?"

"I don't think we can simply set Captain Thrax's actions 'aside'," Picard reasoned, "His opening gesture will taint whatever dialogue we can open with these beings."

"Yes, but we're approaching them peacefully this time," Johnson argued.

Ro snorted, "Hardly. Three escorts and a carrier hardly represent the heights of 'peace gesture'."

"I have to agree with Captain Ro," Limerick admitted, "My crew is hardly used to engaging in negotiations. We're a ship reserved for times when the worst has happened and a military solution is required. Captains Hev and Prine's ships are hardly what one considers ships of the line. They're covert operations platforms. So what's our true intent, admiral?"

Johnson cleared his throat, "It's only fair that you get a straight answer to a straightforward inquiry. The Defiant, the Monitor, the Merrimack, and the Hood are to provide the big stick to back up our display of good intentions. To differing degrees the Enterprise, the Aventine, and the Intrepid are also gunslingers to prove our intent."

"So the basic message is, 'negotiate or die'?" Dax wondered.

"Yes," Johnson sadly admitted.

The room erupted into chaos.

---

Chapter Seven

The Obsidian neared the Omicron system's Kuiper Belt. Macen and Rockford joined the alpha watch bridge crew on the Command Deck. They stood near the MSD console situated between the Science and OPS stations. Danan had emerged from the Astrometrics Lab to man the Science station while Ephrim Zimbalist occupied the OPS station.

Jaycee Miller was at her normal post at Tactical. Shervarhia' ann'Deri, or "Rhiann", sat at the helm. The Andorian zhen was now joined by the thaan named Chrisjian' rys'Irid, or "Chris" that monitored the bridge's Engineering station.

"We've dropped out of warp and are proceeding at 3/4 impulse," Rhiann announced.

"Slow to half impulse," Riker ordered, "Distance to Kuiper Belt?"

"100,000 kilometers," Rhiann answered.

"Hmm, better make that 1/4 impulse," Riker good naturedly amended.

Rhiann smiled and complied. She knew her abilities weren't in question. They just didn't have a good idea of the layout of the field of ice fragments that lay ahead.

"Captain, I'm receiving a Federation SOS," Miller reported.

"Ship's ID?" Riker inquired.

"The USS Endeavor, sir," Miller divulged.

"It must be their log buoy," Riker theorized, "Lees, see if you can pick it up on your sensors."

"I hear and obey," Danan teased.

She studied her sensor read outs and her brow furrowed in concentration, "I've queried the buoy and it's intact and fully functional."

"Can you tie the primary sensors into the navigation array?" Riker asked.

"Easily," Danan grinned, "Planning on recovering the buoy?"

"That is a mission priority," Riker dryly reminded her.

"Just seeing if you remembered," Danan's eyes twinkled.

---

Macen was glad to see his old friend and former lover had reconciled. Danan had shared the root cause behind their recent turmoil. Macen had been surprised by Riker's somewhat primitive reaction to Forger's news but after a gentle talk with him he'd detected the other man's remorse. He'd also seen Riker and Forger in action together and knew there were no lasting repercussions. Riker had grown and moved on.

The Obsidian slowly navigated the field of icy debris. These chunks of frozen gases were as old as the solar system itself. Truth be told, they'd coalesced before the planets themselves. Besides the drive to leave the area as pristine as possible there was another factor at work: they didn't want to be detected by the foreigners visiting this system. No one knew how sensitive or powerful the foreigners' sensors were so caution was well merited.

It took 27 minutes to reach the buoy. It was beamed into Cargo Bay 1. It was held in an isolation field until Tessa could determine that there were no biohazards to threaten the crew. Dropping the field, the Obsidian crew went to work.

From the OPS station on the bridge, Zimbalist downloaded the buoy's logs into a directory. Inside the bay, Parva and McMasters worked together to determine what the buoy had undergone on its mad flight into the Kuiper Belt. Danan shifted her attention to passive scans of the solar system.

---

In the Infosys Center, Macen, Rockford, and Grace tore the Endeavor's records apart. Before the data had to be sifted through a hazy filter, now it was clear and free flowing. They still came to the same conclusions over the course of the 2 days that they reviewed them. Grace added some original insights into matters that Macen and Rockford had overlooked. At the end of the alpha watch on the 2nd day, Danan called them into the Astrometrics Lab.

"What do you have for us?" Macen asked as he and Rockford entered. Grace decided to come as well. Her familiarity with advanced, alien technology had proven useful so far and she hoped it may yield more.

"Passive scans have revealed a lot of subspace chatter," Danan reported. She pulled up a visual of the inner system, "As you can see, there are now more than three of the bioships."

"Have you been able to determine how many ships are in the system?" Macen inquired.

"I've identified at least 16 individual ships. There may be more but they haven't been spotted yet if there are," Danan disclosed.

"They do look like whale sharks," Macen observed.

"Sharks the size of a small planetoid," Rockford dryly reminded him.

"Yes, there is that," he said drolly.

"The subspace signals are all comm traffic. I have the OPS teams tweaking the linguicode programs and the universal translator matrix but we still can't translate anything," Danan shared.

"I think we should set everything to translate into Omicron and see what happens," Macen suggested.

"Why?" Danan was genuinely curious.

"When the science team on Omicron's surface unleashed the initial subspace pulse, they never had a chance to record the language used. It's been assumed that it was transmitted in the unknown language the communicator's controls were written in." Macen revealed, "But the return signal was composed in Omicron. That implies that these beings can speak Omicron."

"Or their translation matrix is light years ahead of ours," Danan quipped.

"Probably," Rockford commented.

Danan gave her a droll look and Rockford defended herself, "Look, we're assuming that these beings created the Omicron. That kind of tech is waaay beyond us. Their facility with languages is probably just as advanced so unless these people have regressed to neo-barbs it'd be safe to assume they're at ten steps ahead of us."

"She has a point," Macen chimed in.

"You're just saying that because she's your girlfriend," Danan shot back.

Macen ignored the barb, "When will you be ready to begin full sensor sweeps?"

"I have everyone ready to go in two hours. That'll give us a full 8 hours ahead of alpha watch," Danan answered.

"Good thinking. Is your staff up for it?" Macen asked.

"I've had them all resting up. I've minded the passives all day alone. I'm going to grab four hours of rack time and come back to it," Danan admitted.

"Be ready to give a report at 0800," Macen advised, "Tom will be there as usual but I also want Shannon to sit in on the team brief."

Danan's eyebrow arched, "You usually keep the crew out of the loop."

"Yes, but this one could turn ugly in a heartbeat. I need both ship drivers up to speed," Macen shared.

Danan smirked, "Good idea."

---

0800 came even earlier than expected since most of those awaiting Danan's report didn't get much sleep. Forger whistled as she entered the briefing room.

"So this is your guys' secret lair," she quipped.

Danan already had a hologram of an Argyn bioship floating above the table. The table top displays were active and the touchscreen controlled displays were filled with imagery and star system maps. Forger was the first to comment.

"I think I went diving with something like that on Earth," she observed.

"The bioships bear a distinct resemblance to Terran whale sharks. Like those creatures, the living portion of the ship is benign. They seemed to feed off the solar winds like a whale shark feeds of krill," Danan began her report, "Red highlights lit up on the inorganic portions of the ship, "Many of these points however are lethal. Since we've all reviewed the Endeavor's logs we know just how deadly they can be. What's interesting is that we've found no corollary device to a photon torpedo launcher."

"How can you be sure?" Radil asked, "Your projections are all based on long range scans."

"Actually, we scanned a bioship as it passed by at a distance of 100,000 kilometers," Danan smirked.

"Say what?" Forger yelped. Daggit and Radil both scowled their displeasure. Riker was bemused. He'd relieved the gamma watch officer when Danan reported to the Science labs. The gamma watch had the fright of their lives as the hulking fish swam by. Riker had advised Macen so he and Rockford were already in on the secret.

"Sorry Shannon, I didn't have time to bring you completely up to speed before this briefing started," Riker grinned.

"You're just getting revenge over my 'little secret'," she accused.

"Maybe," his grin grew.

"What secret?" McMasters blurted.

Grace leaned over and whispered in his ear. He blanched, "You're kidding."

Forger wore a wicked grin, "I'm far enough in my transition that I'm completely passable...with one exception. I'd let you find out what that is if you'd like."

McMasters looked like a deer caught in the headlights, "Um...no thank you?"

Forger shrugged, "Your loss."

"If we can get back on topic?" Danan said crossly, "What is most remarkable about this synthesis between organic and inorganic technology is its method of sublight propulsion. FTL is accomplished by warp slipstream like Starfleet's Vespa-class explorers. However, sublight is something completely foreign and exotic."

"Now this I want to hear," McMasters shot one more baleful look Forger's way.

"Pull up the sensor data on page 4 of your desktop windows. You'll find that these bioships bend time/space so that they reach speeds up to .99c without relativistic time dilation effects," Danan described.

"Man, what I wouldn't give to take one of these babies apart," McMasters voiced.

"However, this effect may be indigenous to the organic lifeform these strangers have grafted their technology to. Initial scans indicate that this is the case. This only broadens the question of whether or not this lifeform is a product of natural evolution or a result of genetic manipulation," Danan expanded on her report.

"While all of this is interesting in a terrifying kind of way, it stills doesn't answer why an alien ship passed by us and didn't detect us?" Radil brought up an obvious point.

Danan smiled, "Who says they didn't?"

---

Beriel found Hennessy and her fellow officers in a courtyard that served as a meeting place for Omicron in search of conversation and recreational gaming. Gev, T'Lisa Park, and Sheila Walsh had joined Prentiss and Gomez in keeping their surviving commanding officer company. The rest of the engineers and science officers joined the Omicron in their festivities. Beriel made a soft squishy noise as he approached the Endeavor's surviving command staff. Hennessy knew that sound was the Argyn equivalent of a soft chuckle.

"Still planning your escape?" he jovially inquired.

"It's every prisoner's duty to escape her captors," Hennessy replied.

"But you are not prisoners. At least not of my people. You are guests of the Omicron and we respect their wishes," Beriel declared.

"But we're your bloody lab rats while you decide whether or not we're civilized enough to deserve living," Hennessy countered.

"Do you not do the same?" Beriel wondered.

"Our peoples believe in something called the Prime Directive. We only contact space faring cultures since they are generally mature enough to handle the revelation of foreign life actually occurring. We don't judge them. We take great pains to avoid interfering in the affairs of others, even when such noninterference is a detriment to ourselves," Hennessy explained.

"My people believe quite the opposite. Life is meant to be fostered, particularly non-sentient life. It must be aided in its quest to achieve perfection," Beriel revealed.

"Sounds like the Borg ideal," Gev argued.

"The Borg were misguided. They sought to exterminate individuality. The individual need not be sacrificed for the communal good. Rather the individual drives the accomplishment of the collective good," Beriel remarked.

"That's a core tenet of our Federation," Hennessy assured him.

"We shall see," Beriel said ominously. An image of a Nova-class surveyor nestled amongst cometary fragments in the system's Kuiper Belt suddenly floated in the air, "This craft has been probing this star system. They began with passive observations but they have become overt in their efforts. We have identified it as a product of your Federation. Do you recognize this craft?"

"Not offhand. Do you know its registration?" Hennessy asked.

"It identifies itself as the NDR 745198 SS Obsidian," Beriel reported.

Hennessy frowned, "That's a civilian registry. It's not affiliated with Starfleet. There are literally hundreds of similar ships wandering around the quadrant."

"That may not be entirely accurate," Gomez said, "If I might have a word with you, Commander?"

"Excuse us for a second," Hennessy begged of Beriel. The two Commanders stepped out of what was presumed to be Argyn earshot. Gomez looked very uncomfortable.

"You are aware of my previous assignment before receiving my billet as Endeavor's Chief Engineer?" Gomez asked.

"You were assigned to the Utopia Planetia Yards," Hennessy said dismissively.

"Technically that's true," Gomez shared, "I actually worked for a highly specialized portion of Utopia Planetia."

Hennessy groaned, "Why do I think the rest of this conversation is going to be about things waaay over my security clearance?"

"Because they are," Gomez confirmed her fears, "I worked in a section known as the Special Projects Yards, or SPYards, for short. They performed highly classified performance upgrades for ships assigned to Starfleet Intelligence and the Special Investigation Division."

"And this Obsidian has something to do with this?" Hennessy connected the dots.

"She's an SID ship. At the time of her transfer to Outbound Ventures her captain was one Brin Macen," Gomez detailed.

Hennessy frowned, "That name rings a bell and not a good one."

"Macen was a Commander in Starfleet before he was court martialed and became a privateer. After that, the SID converted itself into agency that strictly employed civilian assets. Of course they're all privateers, private investigators, and private security agents but they're still civilians and not Starfleet," Gomez explained.

"But they work for Starfleet?" Hennessy sought clarification.

"At the uppermost, hush hush levels," Gomez revealed.

"Why would Starfleet send a covert ops team to rescue us?" Hennessy wondered aloud.

"After what supposedly happened to the Endeavor?" Gomez dryly asked, "I'd say the delicate approach is required. Besides, it makes a perverse kind of sense."

"How so?" Hennessy wondered.

"Haven't you heard the Omicron go off about Macen and Rab Daggit? Daggit is one of Macen's subordinates and Macen led the resistance against the Omicron. He brought the Kelvans into it and just about single-handedly reshaped the politic scene on Omicron," Gomez put all the clues together for her.

"But the Argyn know about them. What could they possibly do?" Hennessy wondered.

"They could try talking, something our dearly departed former captain neglected to do," Gomez bitterly retorted.

Hennessey knew every surviving officer harbored deep resentment against Captain Thrax, "Sonya, we don't have time to lay blame. Starfleet can do that after we've left here."

"If we leave here," Gomez said bleakly.

"Oh, we're leaving, Sonya. One way or another," Hennessy vowed, "Let's rejoin the others so Beriel can stop pretending not to eavesdrop."

The two officers approached the Argyn. He made squishy noises again which confirmed for Hennessy that he had indeed been eavesdropping, "Your assessment of this vessel, Commander?"

"It's no threat to your people. Given what I was told, and you undoubtedly have heard, the commander of this vessel and his crew are held in high regard here on Omicron," Hennessy offered.

"True. For the Omicrons' sake, we have not challenged it until now," Beriel noted.

"Until now?" Hennessy repeated archly.

"Yes, Commander Hennessy. We must know its intentions," Beriel announced.

"You could try talking this time," Hennessy suggested.

"The time for talk is over," Beriel said dismissively, "These creatures must prove themselves to us."

Hennessy wondered what that would entail.

---

"Captain, one of the bioships has redirected itself and is on an intercept course for our position," Danan reported over the comm.

"ETA?" Riker asked.

"I'd give them 35 minutes tops," Danan reported.

"Rhiann, set course for our rendezvous point. Starfleet should be assembled there now," Riker ordered.

"Course laid in. Recommended speed?" Rhiann asked.

"Max us out," Riker commanded.

The Andorian smiled, "Yes sir."

"You're thinking they're gonna come after us, aren't you?" Forger quietly asked.

"And so are you," Riker whispered back.

Forger smiled, "Just so we're on the same page."

---

Six hours later they joined Admiral Johnson's task force. Johnson hailed them, "Maximum warp, Captain? Is there a problem?"

"You could say that. Before we departed the Omicron system, a bioship set an intercept course for us. Despite its possessing slipstream drive it didn't bother to overtake us. Brin feels they want to see what we're doing and who we're meeting," Riker reported.

"He's probably right as usual. Have you reached any conclusions from your observations?" Johnson asked.

"A few technical points. They might come in handy," Riker shared.

"Broadcast your reports to the task force," Johnson ordered, "Then withdraw to the edge of the system. If you were followed you won't be in any position to help us if the worst should happen."

"We could..." Riker began to offer.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Captain, but it's time to admit you're outmatched," Johnson softened the blow with a warm smile, "You won't be completely out of an unexpected fight. Your sensors can help us objectively determine their capabilities."

"Yes sir," Riker turned to Miller, "Jaycee, transmit everything we have on our mystery guests."

She sent the data squirt and Danan commed the bridge, "Tom, a bioship is dropping out of slipstream at the edge of the system and it's headed for the task force."

"Head for the outer edge of the system, Rhiann," Riker grudgingly ordered. He could sense Forger's frustration as well. She'd come up through the ranks as a tactical specialist. It was only natural that she hated running from a fight.

---

The bioship stopped 150,000 kilometers off of the Starfleet force's bow. Johnson hailed them. He was surprised when a visual signal accompanied the reply. What he saw surprised him even more. Fortunately, Starfleet had encountered hundreds of non-humanoid lifeforms in its day. Several had even joined the UFP.

"Greetings in the name of the United Federation of Planets. I am Admiral Robert Tavar Johnson of Starfleet. I am that organization's diplomatic envoy. I wish to begin these negotiations by stating our profound regret over the actions of Captain Thrax. The captain was in violation of standing orders when he attacked you and he had no authorization to do so," Johnson began.

"There will be no 'negotiation'," the Argyn contact specialist replied, "Your barbarism is made plain by the fact that you greet us with warships."

"We thought it best to negotiate from a position of strength," Johnson explained, "I can have the escort vessels depart the system."

"It is too late for that. Your motives are plain. You wish to attack the Omicron system and take the planet by force," the Argyn argued.

"We have no such intention. It is true that we are concerned over any potential survivors from the Endeavor. We have no hostile intent whatsoever. How can we prove that? Johnson pleaded.

"You wish to prove it?" the Argyn seemed intrigued.

"Yes," Johnson affirmed it.

"Stand by," the Argyn's image disappeared.

"Why do I feel like we just fell down the rabbit hole?" McKinley asked.

"I'm beginning to get the same impression," Johnson admitted.

"Captain, the alien vessel has raised shields and armed their weapons. I'm getting what appears to be a target lock," Lt. Commander Ian Delaney reported from tactical.

"Shields up. Arm phasers and transphasic torpedoes," McKinley ordered.

"This is how we prove our peaceful intentions?" Johnson idly wondered.

The ship shuddered. Delaney reported, "Starfleet's theory of constant remodulation of the shields seems to be working. They were only knocked back to 87% on that first shot."

"Your call, Bob," McKinney told Johnson.

"Order the task force to engage the bioship," Johnson commanded.

---

The rapidly remodulated phaser bursts penetrated the enemy shields. That was still too little compared to the Argyn's primary weapon. Several Starfleet ships faced imminent shield collapse. Johnson replied by authorizing release of the transphasic torpedoes.

The bioship imploded after three torpedo strikes. The Obsidian detected incoming slipstream tunnels. Johnson ordered a withdrawal and the Starfleet and SID ships warped out of the system. The Aventine pushed ahead with her slipstream drive to warn Starfleet ahead of time.

---

Beriel angrily confronted the Starfleet officers on Omicron, "Your people are barbarians! They are mindless and react to our gestures with violence. They don't deserve to live."

"Did you give them a chance to prove their intentions?" Hennessy angrily demanded.

"Yes," Beriel snapped, "We fired on them but they returned fire and destroyed our ship."

"That's self defense! You fired and they returned fire. How is that wrong? How are they supposed to react?" Hennessy asked.

"They are supposed to die," Beriel proclaimed.

---

Chapter Eight

The Aventine returned to Federation space in 2 days. The alarm went out and the 7th Fleet was mobilized from the Breen border to DS9. The Argyn arrived a day later. Even with Starfleet's superior numbers, the Argyn ships vastly outgunned them. The Argyn had spent time amongst their sister ship's death throes and knew of the transphasic warheads. They spared no effort in carving up starships before the wretched torpedoes could be launched. The battle was swift and decisive...and ultimately one sided.

Johnson's task force returned three days later to find two dozen gutted and ruined starships. Ro was stunned to see her command obliterated. She rapidly made inquiries with the Bajoran Militia and found that the survivors had been recovered and taken to Bajor by a massive operation put on by the Militia. Colonel Cenn Desca, her Militia liaison officer, was still acting in his capacity as her go between with the Bajoran government. Ro expressed her grief at the loss of life and Cenn quickly assured her that 2nd Officer Willow Meadows had done all she could to safely evacuate the station. Only Meadows and an all volunteer Tactical team had been wounded or died in the station's defense.

Ro promised him the fight wasn't over. Lt. Grozzit, her Sciences Officer, reported that 2 bioships have been slain. Tenmei trades a dour look with Ro. She knew her XO's thoughts. The only times that Starfleet had faced losses at this ratio were against the Borg and the opening months of the Dominion War. Something nagged at the back of Ro's mind, whispering for attention. Finally it leapt out and bit her and she commed Admiral Johnson.

"You're the best suited for the task, Jean-Luc," Johnson assured Picard.

"The Enterprise can..." Picard tried again only to be stopped by Johnson's raised hand.

"Captain, I need the Enterprise's vaunted scientific expertise right here examining these carcasses. We need to know what makes these creatures tick. From the reports I'm receiving from Starfleet, these creatures have carved their way through the 2nd and 4th Fleets and are headed into the Core Worlds. They're starting to strike terrestrial targets," Johnson paused there to let his words sink in.

"They're attacking civilians?" Picard's guts went cold. The Borg had just finished a genocidal campaign against the Federation. The Collective had decided that the Federation cultures were a blight rather than a resource and sought to destroy them before they could disrupt their "perfection" anymore.

What if these creatures had made a similar determination from their all too brief encounters with Starfleet? Every scrap of information that could be ascertained had to be at Starfleet Command's fingertips. They couldn't make informed, intelligent decisions otherwise.

"Very well, Admiral. My crew and I will stand by your orders. Might I suggest I also assist Bajor in dealing with the Starfleet personnel they've had to absorb?" Picard amended.

"Thank you, Captain. The Federation's fate may very well rest in your hands...once again," Johnson replied.

"That does little to warm the cockles of my heart, Admiral. I would hope that Starfleet would reach a solution as a gestalt. After all, our teamwork is our greatest asset," Picard rebutted.

"I hope so too. Until then, find out what you can," Johnson signed off. Savit, his aide, commed him, "Captain Ro is hailing you."

Johnson was intrigued. He would have thought Ro would have better things to do regarding the loss of her command than to bother him. He accepted the transmission. Ro didn't look put out or grieved, two emotions he'd expect under these circumstance. Rather, she seemed excited.

"What's on your mind, Captain?" Johnson honestly wondered.

"Admiral, what do you know of the planet Corvat?" Ro asked.

Johnson thought long and hard about it, "If memory serves, it's a colony world along the Cardassian border. When President Bacco endorsed ceding three colonies to the Cardassians, Corvat was specifically off the list. In fact, it was a Presidential mandate that we retain the world. I found it curious since it's a desert world with no valuable resources besides an abundance of kelbonite."

Ro wore a cocky grin, "Listen to me, Admiral, and I may just hand you the solution to this undeclared war. You see, Corvat has a little secret."

Johnson found her manner and her mysteries annoying, "Get to the damn point, Captain."

Ro's smile turned victorious and she shared.

---

Macen was unexpectedly summoned to the Intrepid. The only SID agent he was allowed to bring was Danan but he was encouraged not too so he left her behind. After he rematerialized on the Intrepid's primary transporter pad, he saw Lt. Commander Ian Delany waiting to escort him to Johnson's office.

Macen wore a wry expression, "It must be pretty bad for them to send the Chief of Security to haul my sorry butt before the admiral."

Delaney broke into an abashed smile, "Actually, Admiral Johnson wanted Savit to come and get you but I volunteered."

"Oho! Going to try and worm information regarding your fiancé out of me?" Macen chuckled.

"Something like that," Delaney shared Macen's grin.

"Lead on, Commander and I'll reveal all things Hannah Grace," Macen promised.

---

Savit had Macen wait for a moment while he paged the admiral. The Vulcan shared that Johnson had been in a conference with the scattered members of the Council of 5. Now he was conversing with the C-in-C. Macen fought down the urge to make a gagging sound at the mention of Edward Jellico.

Johnson's door slid aside moments later and Johnson bellowed, "Come."

Macen shot Savit a rueful look before entering. Once in, he laid it into Johnson; "I hear and obey, O Lord and Master."

"Cut the crap, Brin," Johnson urged as he massaged his temples, "One more conference call and I'm going to have Andreja put me out of my misery."

Andreja Sikorsky was the Intrepid's Chief Medical Officer. She'd served in that post near the end of then Captain Johnson's career as well. After the destruction of the Galaxy-class Intrepid, Johnson had a difficult time getting her to report to the newly commissioned Akira-class Intrepid. Sikorsky had led a medical relief team to Cardassia Prime after the close of the Dominion War. Her time there had profoundly affected her. It took a personal plea from Johnson himself to sway her.

"It's likely to be a permanent solution," Macen warned.

"Thanks God for small favors," Johnson groaned.

"Call Sickbay, Bob," Macen suggested, "Pretty soon you'll be useless if you don't."

Johnson sighed as he slumped his shoulders in defeat, "You're probably right."

He signaled Sickbay and a med tech was dispatched. Johnson pointed at a chair. Macen sat down while wearing a wry expression.

"Woof," Macen barked.

"Don't start with me," Johnson warned, "I'm liable to have you spaced."

Macen waved his hands and made an "Ooh!" expression with his mouth. Johnson gave up, "We have a few minutes before the med team arrives. Tell me what you know of Corvat."

"I know I never want to return to it," Macen immediately retorted.

"You may not have that option," Johnson said darkly.

"How'd you discover Corvat?" Macen asked.

"Ro told me. Nechayev and Akaar filled in the blanks," Johnson admitted.

"This is the best we can do?" Macen angrily asked, "Starfleet beat the bloody Borg! Few civilizations can boast that. More to the point, you convinced an even more advanced civilization to free them from the Collective. And now you want to unleash a planet killer?"

"We don't know what its true capabilities are. It's never been tested. A & A teams have scoured that planet and they haven't discovered much beyond what you and Dr. Argus uncovered. Most of what was discovered was found by you and the linguistic translation matrix you provided have given us the clues that we have," Johnson shot back.

Macen and Johnson were interrupted by the arrival of the med tech. She administered an analgesic while the admiral and the intelligence agent glared at each other. The tech beat feet out of there.

Johnson's expression softened, "Look, I can understand your qualms. If my people had built this monster I'd..."

"Who built it isn't the issue," Macen snapped, "When this thing gets loose it'll shift the balance of power. The Typhon Pact will demand to have one as well or go to war to possess it. There was a reason that Corvat wasn't used during the Dominion War. Basically everyone was afraid of how the Dominion would respond. It was estimated that they would use biogenic weapons in response to this thing. Entire planets would be killed until there were no inhabited worlds left to fight."

"We've lost five fleets. Fleets, Brin. We only have Home Fleet and the 9th Fleet left to throw at them. They've destroyed every starbase and space station they've encountered, civilian or Starfleet. They're delivering strike populations on civilian, populated areas. 7 billion people have died so far so forgive us if we want to respond in a drastic way," Johnson coldly said, "The President has issued a directive. Corvat is a go. Are you going to obey the orders of your President or are you going to sideline yourself as a conscientious objector? Think about the ramifications for your life if you opt for the latter. You'll never work for Starfleet again that's for damn sure. You'll be lucky to keep your Letter of Marque."

Macen was in a corner and he knew it, "All right. I'm in."

"Good, because we need you to operate the frinxing thing," Johnson breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'll need Taryn Argus' help," Macen stipulated.

"I ran a search on Dr. Argus. She doesn't show up on the civilian nets," Johnson admitted.

"Try the penal databases. She's interned on Yuros II. She's serving a life sentence. That should be pretty impressive for an El-Aurian," Macen's eyes were cold.

"Life?" Johnson repeated, "What was she convicted of?"

"Treason," Macen let the impact of that word sink in before continuing, "She tried to hand Corvat over to the Cardassian back in the day."

"Well, the Cardassian Union is an ally now," Johnson said weakly.

"I'd be more worried about the Typhon Pact," Macen counseled, "She has absolutely no allegiance to the Federation or the Cardassians. She can, however, buy a prestigious life within the Typhon Pact if she delivers a weapon of this scale to them."

"Can't you operate the systems without her?" Johnson held out a vague hope.

"No," Macen asserted.

"No?" Johnson was startled by the abruptness of the reply.

"No," seeing Johnson was expecting more, Macen elaborated; "The system was designed for two operators. Sort of like the Tactical and CONN stations on a starship."

Johnson grimaced, "She won't be handling the guns will she?"

"No, she'll be on navigation. We just need to find a way to encourage her to fly where we want her too," Macen shared, "I have a feeling Rab and Jenrya are going to provide lots of motivation."

"Ro can provide support as well. I'm sending her and the Defiant with you," Johnson decided, "Dax can have the Aventine pick up and deliver Argus. Hev, Prine, and Limerick can assist us in getting the hostiles attention and lead them to an ambush point."

"How about the Genesis system?" Macen suggested, "The only things out there are the planetoid Regula, the research station Regula I and it's decommissioned, and the remains of the Genesis planet and the remaining edges of the Mutara Nebula. It's big, empty, and out of the way."

"How long would you need to move Corvat from its current location to Genesis?" Johnson wondered.

"My people possessed a temporal drive that could take the planet there nearly instantaneously," Macen reminded Johnson.

"I also know what the price of that drive is so hopefully it doesn't have one and we need to start lining people up on the chopping block," Johnson commented.

"I don't recall any signs of a temporal drive. I think the system was built before my people harnessed that technology," Macen recalled, "That means it should still have a slipstream drive."

Johnson gave Macen a baleful look, "Your people have been in possession of slipstream tech all this time?"

"Yeah, so?" Macen wondered.

"Brin, we've been working on that drive system for sixty years, ever since we finally gave up on transwarp coils," Johnson admonished his friend.

"What did you want me to do about it? I'm no engineer," Macen defended himself, "Besides my people have an admonition against interference akin to the Prime Directive."

Johnson hung his head in defeat and pointed at the door, "Go."

"You're sure?" Macen inquired.

"Get out of here and set course for Corvat," Johnson ordered.

Macen sprang out of his chair, "See ya!"

"Waitaminute!" Johnson yelped, "When did you become so eager to complete this assignment?"

"If I preserve the Federation, then I preserve my own long term goals," Macen explained, "I also have a potential solution in mind for the Corvat problem when this is said and done."

"Being what?" Johnson probed.

Macen grinned, "I'll tell you later."

He exited and Johnson felt his recently relieved headache returning.

---

Before departing, Macen made certain that an evacuation effort was underway on Corvat. There were only two million settlers. With the temporary assistance of the Enterprise and the Bajoran Traders Guild most of the people were being moved. President Bacco also enlisted the aid of the Cardassians. While the Cardassian Militia wouldn't be involved, the Trade Conclave would assist.

The Cardassians were angry over the proposed activation of Corvat. Bacco had informed the delegates of all the Khitomer Accord nations. The Klingons and the Ferengi were just as apprehensive as the Cardassians. The non-aligned stellar nations were being left out of the loop until everything was after the fact. Now it was time to inform the Typhon Pact.

Ambassador Tezrene reported to Bacco's office already bristling. She knew the Tholian shared her race's common xenophobia. It had taken quite a push to secure the Tholian Assembly's participation in the Pact but they were a bulwark member. Their ability to access long abandoned Shedai technology made them a power to be reckoned with.

"Why am I here?" Tezrene demanded. Her actual voice was highly pitched harmonic shriek. Her translator toned it down somewhat but the apprehension was still there.

Bacco offered the Tholian a wintry smile. Tezrene represented all of the members of the Typhon Pact at once. They were a polyglot not unlike the Federation. However the Federation sought to expand its borders through peaceful means. The Pact had no such compunction. Even their ambassador was chosen for her obstinacy.

"I'd offer you a seat, Ambassador, but I'm afraid we don't have any that can suit your frame," Bacco said.

The six limbed Tholian bristled. Obviously the Terran woman had brought her here to mock her. Well, she'd be having none of that!

"I demand we get to business, Madame President. If there is such a thing," Tezrene huffed.

"All right," Bacco leaned forward across her desk and slid a padd large enough to accommodate Tezrene's claws across its surface, "We're activation Corvat."

"What is 'Corvat' and what is its significance?" Tezrene wondered. Was this some kind of trick?

"Corvat is one of our colony worlds," Bacco explained, "It's also a weapon capable of destroying entire planets and possibly stars as well."

"I think I'd best peruse your documents," Tezrene deferred comment. She scooped up the padd and began scrolling through its data. As she read, she began to visibly tremble. The further she got in her reading the worse her tremors got.

And that's with the environmental suit hiding most of it, Bacco thought. Aloud, she commented; "I thought it best to keep your governments apprised since we are experiencing diplomatic difficulties right now."

Bacco knew that most of those recent difficulties had stemmed from the Breen planting an agent within the Utopia Planetia Yards and sabotaging the yard works in order to escape via a Romulan Warbird. The Breen had subsequently attempted to build a slipstream capable craft from the stolen plans. Starfleet Intelligence had inserted two agents into Breen society.

The Breen Confederacy had been revealed as a multi-racial society that hides their identities in order to avoid any form of favoritism. The agents, one Julian Bashir and one Sarina Douglas, successfully sabotaged the database storing the plans and destroyed the prototype ship. All that with a clean getaway.

The Breen knew what had happened but they couldn't prove it. That left them back in the position of a Cold War adversary playing shadowy games against their opponent.

Bashir and Douglas had come to the attention of the President's Office. Bashir was a Commander in Starfleet's Medical Division, hardly a place to look for a secret agent. Douglas was an official SI operative, which meant all of her records listed her as a civilian researcher. Perhaps the most surprising part of the affair was that both participants were genetically enhanced.

Records and test showed that Douglas' mental acuity was even greater than Bashir's and he was no slouch. They'd managed to integrate into society though, a rare feat for the genetically "superior". One might say Bashir had even infiltrated Starfleet by posing as a normal human for years before being discovered. He'd been CMO of DS9 ever since Starfleet took over Terok Nor and administered it for the Bajorans. Douglas was also now based out of DS9, or at least would be again once the station was replaced with a new one. If that option were handed to Starfleet.

"This is...is...is an abomination!" Tezrene shrieked again.

"I quite agree. Which is why it's been held in reserve as a weapon of last resort," Bacco replied.

"You have had this in reserve?" Tezrene was aghast.

"It was discovered in the Earth year 2373. We've been storing the computer node that controls the whole thing in a weapons depot. We almost activated it at the end against the Borg but a core group of our best officers managed to save the day," Bacco described the situation, "Those same officers have attempted to communicate with our present adversary and have met with little success. They seem as intent on destroying us as the Borg were."

"Good for them," Tezrene would have spat is she were capable of the gesture, "You do realize that this weapon shifts the balance of power in your favor? My governments cannot allow that. You'd best beseech whatever deity you claim that these beings utterly wipe you out of the stars for if they do not, we shall."

"I don't think it will come to that," Bacco advised her, "Once we've eliminated the threat, we will deactivate the weapon once again."

"Deactivation is not enough," Tezrene warned, "It must either be destroyed or we must have parity. There are no other paths to peace and you claim to cherish peace."

Bacco felt the sting in the Tholian's words. The Federation did espouse peace as one of its highest goals but simple survival had to come before that. Surely the Typhon Pact could see that? If the Pact attacked en masse they'd surely mow through Starfleet's crippled reserves. The mothball fleets were being reactivated but they'd last been used in the Dominion War and sat idle ever since.

Plus there was a reason why these ships had been decommissioned. They were simply too old to go head to head with the Typhon Pact's best and brightest. Plus, the Starfleet Reserves had been called into service, both Active and Inactive branches. The only upside was that these part-time officers actually served aboard the Reserve Fleets when those ships were new. But it would take two more days to mobilize them. Could the sparse resources of the Federation hold out that long?

"I'll make a counter proposal," Bacco had a wild idea, "You come to our rescue and you can help us destroy Corvat when we're done."

Surprisingly, Tezrene didn't have a knee jerk reaction that that. It was a bold step for the diplomat. Instead she motioned with her claw holding the oversized padd, "May I keep this?"

"The information is intended to be dispersed amongst your representative governments so that you can reach a consensus regarding my offers," Bacco graciously allowed.

"Know this: there will only be one consensus. You will either destroy this monstrosity or hand it over to us," Tezrene demanded.

Bacco's back stiffened, "And you will know this: I will gladly destroy Corvat after we have dissuaded these mysterious attackers of ours from destroying us. I welcome your governments to participate in, and observe, the destruction process. However, know this as well: I will never hand Corvat over to you. This weapon possesses too much power to be wielded by your nation-states."

"Or by you," Tezrene countered.

"I think this meeting is concluded," Bacco decided, "Please inform me of your governments' decision as soon as you are able."

"I will be most pleased to throw this back at you," Tezrene confessed.

Bacco's Chief of Security showed Tezrene out. Waiting in the antechamber were Piniero and Shostakova. Bacco had them sent in.

Piniero wore the same insufferable smirk that she habitually wore every time Bacco dealt with the Typhon pact's representative. Bacco glared at her.

"Wipe that damn smile off of your face, Eppy. It went just as badly as expected," Bacco groused.

"So they're marching over the borders and coming down our throats?" Shostakova dryly inquired.

Bacco wore a pained expression, "Maybe not that bad."

"But they want it," Piniero guessed correctly.

"Yes, they want it," Bacco confirmed the worst.

"And you said...?" Piniero asked.

"I used polite speak for 'go to hell'," Bacco replied.

"And it wasn't lost in the translation?" Shostakova wondered.

"Oh, she got it," Bacco assured her SecDef.

"And our allies won't help us?" Piniero asked in disgust.

"They're afraid of pissing these things off. I can't say I blame them," Bacco retorted.

"So, our 'A' Plan is still a 'Go'?" Shostakova wanted to know.

"Tell Admiral Jellico to give them hell," Bacco informed her.

"And the Argus woman?" Piniero brought up yet another topic best avoided.

"Give her a full pardon. Whatever it takes to get her in position on time," Bacco grumped.

"The Legal staff will be bringing by a document to authorize," Piniero warned, "You could make it a conditional pardon."

"And make her think we don't trust her?" Bacco sarcastically quipped, "Give her a full pardon even though we all know this bitch will turn on us the moment it suits her."

"I sure hope you know what you're doing," Piniero voiced.

"Me too," Bacco sighed.

---

Chapter Nine

The Obsidian and the Defiant raced to Corvat. It had been fifteen years since Macen and Ro had visited the desert world. Thoughts naturally went to those that had been here last time. Aric Tulley, Ro's former lieutenant was dead, killed in a battle with Macen. T'Kir was dead, yet strangely enough, resurrected.

T'Kir had died but she'd implanted her katra in Macen's psyche. Unbeknownst to anyone, Tessa had cloned T'Kir's rapidly cooling body. She'd held on to that clone for 18 months while she corrected T'Kir's genetic mutations that made her a Class 4 telepath, a rarity to be sure. Tessa had called in an Adept who was also a healer and he performed the fal-tor-pan and relocated T'Kir's psyche into her own body.

T'Kir's mind, unaccustomed to its new environment and also addled from the jostling about body to body, was understandably confused. The Adept took T'Kir with him to Vulcan. While there, she began to practice the logic based emotional control that her race was famed for.

T'Kir had been born and raised on the colony world of Shial. Citizens of that colony were students of the Way of Sybok rather than Surak. They sought fulfillment in emotional expression. Most of the defectors from the Romulan Star Empire ended up there.

Now she was embracing the practice of kohlinar or the Vulcan art of purging all emotion. She was literally unrecognizable to her former friends. Macen's marriage to her was irrevocably broken. But he still couldn't help but wonder what the old T'Kir would think of their return to Corvat. The new T'Kir would undoubtedly lay on statistics and logical reasoning on why the world killer should be used. He couldn't help but think that T'Kir would regret her passionless life at some point.

The evacuation was almost finished. The last convoy headed for Bajor under the watchful gaze of the Enterprise. Picard had been the man Ro surrendered the crystal control matrix to. Macen intuitively knew Ro was having a discussion with her former mentor regarding its use even now.

"I found it hard to believe that you, of all people, recommended using this weapon," Picard accused.

Picard may have had the quiet of his Ready Room from which to place this call but all Ro had were her Spartan quarters. Fortunately, she'd gotten Nog to remove the top bunk from the bed and install a small desk and a fixed chair.

"I don't see why it would be so surprising," Ro countered defensively.

"Laren, it was you that advised me to safeguard the control matrix in order to prevent it from being used," Picard elucidated.

"Do you see another choice?" Ro impatiently asked.

"There's always another choice. We faced this same choice against the Borg," Picard was growing angry, "We chose a different path."

"That's because another solution presented itself," Ro showed her temper as well, "We don't have an all powerful alien race conveniently hanging around this time. Do you know what we know about our opponent this time? We know they look like a gumdrop with tentacles and they can destroy a starship in 3 seconds. We don't know why they do it, how they can do it, or how we can convince them not to. That's a helluva a lot of questions we didn't face against the Borg."

"It's up to starship captains to provide those options or haven't you learned that yet in your long career as a Starfleet captain?" Picard acidly inquired.

"I may not have your decades of experience but at least I haven't given up!" Ro snapped, "Oh, it's all over Starfleet how you wanted to capitulate to the Borg. 'We can't stop them anyway so why not let them mow us down?' wasn't that your basic attitude?"

"Damn you," Picard seethed, "What do you know of fighting against hopeless odds?"

Ro laughed scornfully, "You're actually going to ask me that? I fought for the Bajoran Resistance, remember? The Maquis were nothing but a hopeless cause. So hopeless in fact we were mowed down by the Jem'Hadar. But you want to know what I learned? I learned you never give in or give up. You fight until the last man is dead or dying."

Seeing she had Picard's undivided attention, she pressed on; "After the Maquis were crushed, a few of us fought in until we finally had to turn to the Bajoran Militia and apply for amnesty."

"Yes, I know that," he wondered where she was going with this rehash of her history.

"What you don't know is I was the Bajoran liaison to a select band of Starfleet commandoes that operated behind enemy lines. We were so far behind the lines that we were often cut off from Starfleet for weeks at a time. And while we were, we fought. We fought every damn day. I thought the Maquis had been arduous. They were nothing compared to Angosians."

"You were part of the Angosian assault force?" Picard was stunned by the lack of his knowledge.

Ro snorted, "Hell, in the end, we were assault force. Some other people you know were a part of it as well. Remember your former Tactical Officer named Rab Daggit?"

"Barely," Picard searched his memory.

"He was the commando unit's leader. Brin Macen was our intel officer," Ro supplied the answers to his unspoken questions.

"Brin Macen served in the assault units?" Picard was stunned.

"He didn't go straight from the Maquis to the SID," Ro dryly commented, "The SID wasn't formed until after the war."

"Why are you telling me this?" Picard asked in hushed tones.

"To prove a point. Macen never once suggested we use Corvat against the Dominion. Truth be told, he didn't suggest it this time around. I did but Macen finally agreed with Admiral Johnson's reasoning. Brin has an uncanny way of navigating probabilities. You know this a racial trait because of your friendship with Guinan. Don't you think he would have objected to the bitter end if he saw a better way ahead of us?"

Picard had to chew on that. Ro depended upon Macen's the judgment the way Picard had depended upon Guinan's guidance off and on over the long years. Guinan never shared where her amazing intuition came from. He'd simply accepted it for what it was and trusted in it implicitly.

Truth be told, Picard trusted in Ro as well. She was undeniably one of the brightest officers to cross his path in years. Her path had been highly unorthodox and a tad awkward at times but she had proven herself to Starfleet Command. So much so they had made her CO of both DS9 and the Defiant along with a promotion to Commander. A rapidly advanced promotion had followed. Starfleet was willing to trust her, as he'd fervently counseled them to 12 years ago when they put her back in uniform, so why was he suddenly so reluctant?

In her way, Ro was as seasoned as Will Riker had been when he finally accepted a command of his own. Picard had feared he was holding his XO back but Riker had moved on when the time was right for him.

It was the nature of Ro's experience that caused him to pause. She'd been a terrorist between ages 14-18, a cadet between 18-22, a Starfleet Officer between ages 22-24, a convicted criminal between ages 26-28, a Starfleet Officer again between 28-31, a terrorist again from 31-33, a Bajoran Militia Officer between 33-36, and a Starfleet officer ever since. Now at 48, she was on right on time for a command of her own.

Picard had always wished she'd advance to this stage in her career. However, DS9 was wreckage and it had been destroyed while she was elsewhere and couldn't defend it. Picard had lost the Stargazer and the Enterprise-D so he knew the conflicting emotions that such tragedies inflicted upon a commanding officer. He just couldn't be certain that her recommendation to use Corvat wasn't a knee-jerk, "get them back because they got me first" reaction. It wouldn't be atypical for the circumstances and Ro was certainly one to react first and analyze later.

Macen's attitude was of little help as well. It was circulated amongst command officers in the loop regarding the SID that the El-Aurian often responded to violence with harsher and greater violence. Point in fact; many of Macen's actions with the SID were illegal within the framework of the Federation. This is why Admiral Forger wisely had him operate in foreign territory most of the time.

"I just pray you can rest easy with the consequences of this decision," Picard intoned direly.

Ro wore a cocky smile, "I'm already sleeping better."

Picard knew there was no arguing with her. From official fleet dispatches he knew the Typhon Pact was reacting to the news of Corvat's existence. One might say they were overreacting but Picard didn't think so. They were concerned with their survival just as the Federation was at the introduction of Shinzon's thalaron threat. That technology had been universally banned and so should Corvat.

Picard offered a pittance of a farewell and the Enterprise departed. Three hours later, the Aventine arrived. She carried one Taryn Argus and one El-Aurian crystalline control matrix. It could safely be said she'd never carried such dangerous cargo before.

---

Dax beamed down to Sharray with a Security team. The security was divided between Argus and the case holding the node. While Jadzia Dax had visited Corvat once, Ezri Dax only possessed Jadzia's memories of doing so. Dax's previous host had wandered about New Cairo, which was a literal ghost town now, and had never visited the ruins of Sharray. Dax knew that even Jadzia would have felt dwarfed by the massive project to map out the weapon installed within Corvat but Ezri looked at it like a strategic problem and therefore could minimize the dangers involved.

In Dax's view, using a set of Vulcan-like logic parameters, the benefits simply outweighed the costs. If the Typhon Pact came across the borders it would be met with equal force. If the only forcer available or left standing were Corvat then Corvat would be used against the Pact nations. It was that simple and that cut and dried. Dax was more than willing to help tear the planet apart destroying its awful weapons array after the crisis was past. But until then, Corvat was a necessity and would be protected as such.

Both the Defiant and the Aventine were assigned as Corvat's guardians. It was receiving much more protection now then when it was vulnerable to Cardassian and Dominion attack. And unlike before, it now had no inhabitants. Dax found that thought to be very sad.

The removal of the settlers was a practical necessity. Not only would the world be taking direct fire soon enough but it would also be leaving its orbital track. It would leave its sun and the warmth and protection that it offered. The colonists would literally freeze to death if they remained.

Looking off to the near distance towards the edge of the city's ruins, the Obsidian stood proud and tall on her landing skids. Dax occasionally wished the shark-like Aventine possessed the ability to land on a planet's surface. It would have come in handy when she'd been trying to recover the Earth Starfleet vessel NX-02 Columbia in the Gamma Quadrant. The mystery as to how that far-flung vessel had arrived 70,000 light years from home had unlocked an enigma in the form of the Cailear. Of course Captain Will Riker and the crew of the Titan actually made first contact, or second, if you counted the crew of the Columbia.

The general resemblance between the Vespa-class Aventine and the enemy bioships perfectly fit the physical requirements for slipstream drive. It was little wonder that both sides had harnessed the technology, even it was by polar opposite ends of the spectrum. The Trills' experiences with the symbiots the dreaded parasite derivatives let them see the potential of organic tech.

Ro and Macen were waiting for Dax's party. Radil and Daggit were also there, armed to the teeth. Dax had perused Starfleet Intelligence's files on the Bajoran and the Angosian. They were spare in comparison to what the SID had to have compiled on them but SID files were classified waaay above Dax's security clearance. The so-called "public consumption" files SI had prepared told enough of the story that Dax knew better than to trifle with either soldier.

Dax knew from her reading that Radil was Chief of Security aboard the Obsidian. But before that she was a terrorist and a mercenary. Now, in conjunction with her Security duties, she was the SID team's Tactical Specialist.

On the other hand, Daggit's Starfleet records were blacker than black and required a lot of reading between the lines. He enlisted, and received a battlefield commission, during the Dominion War. His records during that span of time were virtually nonexistent. That bespoke of black ops. Macen and Ro had the same blank so it conceivable that they'd all served together. It would go a long way in explaining their familiarity and the degree of trust between them all.

Daggit had a few brief months in the limelight as one of the Enterprise-E's Tactical Officers. That ended three months after the ship's encounter with the ill-fated Hydra-class USS Odyssey. That gunslinger had been under the command of then-Captain Macen. Daggit had subsequently volunteered for a slot in the newly formed Special Investigations Division. He specifically volunteered for any team that Macen personally led. His wish had been granted and he'd disappeared into official obscurity again.

Even personal information was sparse. Daggit was married to an Orion engineer named Parva. She'd been a slave girl to the Syndicate crime lord Daveed B'nner. Unlike most Orion women, Parva had been an actual slave. Her pheromone glands had been surgically removed and she'd served as an object of his lusts.

Parva had escaped and made into Federation space. Acquiring advanced degrees in engineering, she went to work for the Utopian Planetia Yards. Eventually she served in the mythical SPYards. She'd served under Chief Hal Dracas. Dracas left the yards to serve as Macen's chief engineer. When Dracas stepped down, he handed the reins over to Parva.

She'd served in the post until being gravely wounded and receiving brain damage. She'd literally had to relearn how to walk and use her limbs. Undergoing rehabilitative education, she eventually recaptured the spark that made her an innovator. She retook the post of Chief Engineer of the Obsidian but she no longer served with the SID.

On the other hand, Radil's love life had wandered far and wide. Never one to settle down, she had a climatic fling with the SID team's then-Medical Specialist, the Klingon doctor Kort. She and Kort amicable parted ways and Radil began an affair with her deputy, Abigail Collins. Abby taught Radil how to truly love again but unfortunately she was cut down in the line of duty.

Radil turned to Kort for comfort and found more than that. They'd married and he now served as CMO aboard the Obsidian's home port of Serenity Station. Radil still played the field with same sex partners and only time would tell if that dallying would ever end.

"Captain," Ro gave Dax a small smile.

Dax still remembered the day she'd first met Ro. The Bajoran Militia officer had just reported in as Chief of Security and had single handedly put down a 7 person bar fight. Dax knew right then and there not to ever underestimate the older woman's resolve.

"Right back at you," Dax grinned.

"Ahem," Sam Bowers cleared his throat, "I'm still standing here as well, Captains."

Bowers had served as DS9 and the Defiant's Tactical Officer. He'd shared many adventures with both women as they soared through the ranks, leaving him behind.

"But you're so forgettable, Commander," Ro teased.

"Ouch. Just remember that the next time you want me to send reinforcements your way," Bowers playfully retorted.

"I don't believe I've ever met your Security Chief," Ro admitted looking over the female Takaran Lieutenant.

Dax motioned for her officer to step forward, "Lt. Lonnoc Kedair, meet Captain Ro Laren, one time Chief of Security of Deep Space 9 and now CO of the same."

Dax saw the involuntary wince on Ro's face and she blanched, "I'm so sorry. I forgot."

Bowers scowled as well. Ro brushed aside Dax's concerns, "I have Starfleet and Bajor's assurances the station will be rebuilt."

"But not a Cardassian design this time, I hope," Dax wished.

Ro smiled thinly, "Apparently some Bajoran architect has been presenting alternative designs for years. They've finally green lit his project."

"I don't know, I think I'll miss the smell," Bowers opined. The stations air scrubbers had been famous for wafting out a particular odor. Not necessarily offensive but for those in the know it was particularly Cardassian.

"Do I have to listen to any more of this drivel?" Argus testily asked.

Kedair and two officers still held her in place behind the Starfleet command officers. Although she was complaining about said officers, the truth was that Argus barely registered them. Her entire focus was centered on Macen.

Ro interposed herself between Macen and Argus, "I'd mind my manners if I were you. I can easily send you back to that rock we scraped you off of."

Argus smiled coldly, "I was granted a Presidential pardon. I do believe that overrides any of your petty concerns."

Ro's mouth worked on a silent protest and Argus suddenly cold cocked her. The Bajoran hadn't expected such an overt move and had been totally unprepared for it. Ro staggered back, recovered her footing, and locked her eyes onto Argus'.

She wiped the blood from her split lip, "Nice. I suppose that pays me back?"

Argus merely smirked and Ro decided to quell this little revolt before it began, "Fair enough. I would've done the same. But I have to tell you about the people that are going to be watching over you. They aren't Starfleet. They're private operators and they'll shoot you just as soon as look at you. Oh, they may just wound you on the first occurrence but I guarantee there won't be a second."

Argus looked over Daggit and Radil. Then her gaze shifted to Macen, "Yours?"

Macen nodded and Argus smiled warmly, "I knew you'd changed. Even when you were with the Maquis you were still a little too soft. But then you came to Yuros."

Argus grew pensive, "Of course you were with that Vulcan slut."

"Whatever you're thinking will happen here, it won't," Macen promised.

"You didn't used to think so," Argus pouted.

"That was over two centuries ago. Even then, I learned the error of my ways," Macen warned.

"That was only because you fell for Arinea," she almost spat the name, "Since the Vulcan was your second wife, I can only guess that Arinea went out the door quietly."

"Not quite," Macen replied.

"I'm thinking there's a story there," Argus smirked.

"She threatened my people so I killed her," Macen said without a trace of inflection.

That rattled Argus, "How?"

"We dueled. It was all very proper except that she was insane. I put her down for her own sake," Macen described the scene.

"I seem to recall her being a better swordsman than you," Argus pointed out.

"Time's change," Macen replied flatly.

"And you'd do the same to me?" Argus peered deeply into his eyes.

He met her gaze unflinchingly, "Without hesitation."

Argus nodded, "I believe you. Well, now that we know where we all stand, shall we get to work?"

"Not yet," Macen blocked her from walking to the command center, "Where do you stand?"

Argus smirked, "Very clever. I thought you'd missed that."

"You wish," Macen said sternly.

"I mean to kill these beasties that are ransacking the quadrant and then using my newfound freedom I intend to leave the Federation behind," Argus explained.

"But you're not going to Cardassia," Macen surmised.

Argus laughed derisively, "Still obsessed with Cardassia? You poor dear. Haven't you heard? They're on our side now."

Macen ignored her scorn, "Which Typhon Pact nation will you approach?"

Argus' eyes lit up with delight, "Excellent. You have been paying attention. I was thinking the Romulans. Satisfied?"

Macen gave her the barest of nods, "All right. When this is done you'll have free passage to the Romulan Star Empire. I can even contact someone in the Tal Shiar so they'll be expecting you. Agreed?"

Argus offered her hand, "Deal."

Macen accepted her proffered hand and gave it a firm grasp as he shook it lightly, "Just don't break your word, Taryn. You don't want to test me."

Argus offered him a genuine smile, "No, I don't think I will. You're liable to find a way of running this monument without me and I've waited several lifetimes to see it in action. One might say my entire career has been spent chasing this moment."

Macen offered her a slight grin, "I know the feeling."

---

Chapter Ten

The Argyn were reinforcing. More ships arrived from the Birth Sector every day. They gathered near the Black Cluster for Starfleet's 9th Fleet had been patrolling the border with the Breen Confederacy when the conflict broke out. The Fleet had detected several subspace distortions across the border and it could only be assumed that the Breen were on the move.

The Border Patrol also detected movement along the Tzenkethi Coalition's border with the Federation and the Cardassians. Starfleet Border Patrol vessels also noted traffic buildups near the borders with the Tholian Assembly and the Gorn Hegemony. The Klingons reported movement from the Holy Order of Kinshaya. Saber-class starships patrolling the Neutral Zone also detected Romulan Warbirds swiftly approaching but they all cloaked before crossing the Zone.

That was the problem with all of these movements. As part of a stipulation of membership within the Typhon Pact, the Romulans had shared cloaking technology with all of its members. It had taken time to adapt the basic technology to the native drives and space frames but it seemed that day had come. The Typhon Pact was on the move and no one knew in what strength or where they were headed.

The Klingons finally delivered a fleet to the struggling Federation forces. The movements of the Holy Order, the Klingons' second greatest rival, had convinced them that the Federation should remain standing. The Cardassians sent the 9th Order. They'd been swayed by Starfleet's dismantling of the Demilitarized Zone and its withdrawal from that area. Grand Nagus Rom sent 12 Marauders. That was all the Ferengi Alliance could free up from convoy duties.

The Khitomer fleet assembled around Deep Space 3. The station's CO, Captain Alfonso Reyes, deployed the station's auxiliary craft in deploying antimatter pods. Each pod was rigged with a remote detonator and a tractor beam emitter. Despite the bioships ostensibly having no magnetic surfaces, the gravitic based technology of the tractor beam could suck a pod into the surface of a bioship before it detonated.

20 bioships arrived in the system. The fleet intercepted them. Transphasic torpedoes killed 4 bioships and wounded 3 others. The combined forces fleet was in turn left in ruins and left behind in the Argyns' desire to destroy the station.

The antimatter pods were activated and they adhered themselves to 7 bioships before signal was given to annihilate themselves. The antimatter utterly destroyed all 7 ships. The remaining 6 ships retreated, taking the 3 wounded vessels with them.

---

In the Ops Center of DS3, Reyes sagged with relief. He immediately began issuing orders, "Deploy all support craft. We need to rebuild our line of defense and see to any survivors out amongst the crippled starships. We also need to tractor in any 'lost' escape pods that aren't already headed our way. Stand by all transporters to beam survivors from the pods into the station."

His watch officers all hung on every word and so he added, "We survived the first round against these bastards. Now it's time to insure we can make stand against every assault they throw our way."

The various officers and enlisted men and women cheered and then issued the captain's order to the various sections of the station. Reyes traded notes with his XO and then stepped off into his office. Thoughts of Ro and her current situation washed over his mind.

He'd attempted to court her at the Academy but she'd rebuffed him. He'd kept tabs on her throughout the intervening years. When he was officially reprimanded for having Maquis sympathies and assigned as XO to his first space station, his wife had simply announced she was moving to the "ass end of space" and filed for divorce.

Unlike his duties aboard a Border Patrol ship, he infrequently received enough leave time to travel to Deneva. He saw his children infrequently. After the destruction of Deneva at the hands of the Borg, he'd been contacted by his adult children. They'd all been safely off world but their mother was dead. One of millions of fatalities.

Of course, he'd finally managed to not only woo but court Ro by this time. She'd been a Lt. Commander in Starfleet Security when they reunited. She'd been promoted to Commander and made XO of DS9 shortly thereafter. Vaughn had retired a year later and Ro received command but wasn't promoted to equal rank with Reyes until earlier this year.

While Reyes exulted in his lover's success, her promotion just made their love life more complicated. Although, he assumed that Mackenzie Calhoun and Elizabeth Shelby took the biscuit in that department. She'd been his XO before the destruction of the original Ambassador-class USS Excalibur. She was promoted first to command of the Trident and then to admiral and command of Bravo Station and made her husband's superior officer. They somehow managed to keep their priorities straight and balance duty with affection.

To be honest, Reyes envied Ro her dual command. He had no counterpart to the Defiant and was completely hemmed in by the station and its demands. However, unlike Ro, he had direct authority over three starships assigned to this sector.

Starships visiting Ro's sector were nominally under her jurisdiction in so far as law and order went but they operated independently of her command structure. But she got to stretch her legs with jaunts into the Gamma Quadrant. Maintaining contact with the Dominion, while warding off an incursion by their forces, was a top priority of her mandate. Defending the wormhole from entrance by criminal parties was another. Lastly, defending Bajor took precedence but Bajor's greatest foe was now an ally.

Cardassia's return to democracy was viewed with skepticism by some in Starfleet Command. Despite Cardassia's crowning Katreen Dervin their constitutional Monarch, it was felt that volatile elements in the right wing faction could still topple the government. Dervin enjoyed near mythical status as the Chrysalis Child of prophesied destiny but she was still only humanoid. She would make mistakes and how would the people respond to that?

A new danger had been added to the mix of political spectrums. Before there had been liberal Democrats, idealistic Monarchists, and traditionalist Unionists. The Unionists had represented the entrenched, and recently disenfranchised, elite of Cardassian society. Their overthrow of the Democrat/Monarchist majority had issued in a pogrom filled era of terror.

Literally, Billions of Cardassians had flooded into Federation space, including Bajor. Those left behind had shouldered the burden of the regime until they'd finally had enough. The Unionists lost their support in the ever necessary military and the people's revolution had instituted a new government.

They'd opted to install the nescient democratic monarchy that the Unionists had deprived them of. The Cardassian masses were carefully watching the government to see how it would meet their needs. Food, water, energy supplies and stores were all in short supply. Food and water could be supplemented with replicators but one needed a stable power grid, and one that wasn't overloaded, to meet those needs.

Medical personnel were also in short supply. And it seemed the only institution that had enough of everything was the Militia. Another problem loomed in the near distance: housing. The population was booming despite the difficulties and a housing crunch was on the way. This why the colonial acquisition of Solarian IV and other worlds were so important to the Cardassians.

While the young Queen had wanted to aid the Federation for no reward, the Cardassian Union's Ambassador to the Federation had counseled otherwise as had the current Castellan. Castellan Rekena Geran was a good counterpart to a female queen. Only the second person elected castellan in Cardassia's all too brief democratic history, Geran was also the first woman to assume the post. It was giant leap forward for the female sex in the traditional patriarchal Cardassian society.

Elim Garak had served Cardassia as an Obsidian Order agent, an exile, an Underground leader, advisor the Castellan, rebel leader again, and now as Ambassador to the Federation. It was seen that Garak's extensive dealings with the Federation would give him a greater insight into their particular brand of negotiating. So far his shrewdness had greatly rewarded the Cardassian government and those rewards were already starting to trickle down to the people.

All of these points were factors in Ro's security concerns. Of course, she also had the Breen Confederacy two sectors away. The Barrinor Sector stood between the Bajoran Sector's star systems and the Breen. The actual Barrinor system hosted Serenity Station and the corporate hub of Outbound Ventures Incorporated as well as a Starfleet tending station. Serenity orbited the fifth world in the system, Odin, and a KX-type station orbited Barrinor proper. Starfleet had begun work on a station to replace the 100 year old orbital works but they'd been distracted by the coming of the Borg.

The Breen had made noise about the construction of a modern station so close to their system. They'd ignored Outbound Ventures' construction because it was a civilian station but any station built by Starfleet would be manned by Starfleet and require starships for its protection. It could likely become a hub for the entire 9th Fleet.

It was an irony that the coming of the Borg had created the Federation's latest thorn. The Typhon Pact had arisen because their nations had felt the effects of the Borg as well. However, they refused to join the Federation in a mutual defense of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. They were so adverse to the Federation and her allies that they'd risked annihilation at the hands of the one foe that truly threatened them all.

The Pact had formed in the wake of the Borg's defeat. If the Federation had seemed threatening before, their having overcome the impossible must have made them seem like the Borg themselves. The Khitomer Accords alliance had happened as a direct response to the allied might of the Typhon Pact nations.

In truth, all of the Khitomer nations were hard pressed. Having lost hundreds of ships against the onslaught of the Borg, Starfleet was nearly incapacitated in the wake of the worlds that the Borg had razed. Billions were dead and billions more were displaced. While Bacco was seen as a hero for her handling of the crisis, several member worlds threatened to leave the Federation. One of these was a Founding Member. The Andorians threatened to secede unless assurances were made and demands were met.

Seeing as how Andoria never came under fire, the reasoning of its government was something of a mystery to the UFP Presidential Cabinet and even the Federation Council itself. The Andorians representatives in the Council certainly weren't trying very hard to explain. All they did was present an ever growing list of demands and threats of abandoning their membership. The would-be Andorian Empire already had proclaimed an Emperor and staked out territorial claims. Claims that went beyond Andoria's recognized borders.

Reyes' ruminations were interrupted as his XO approached, "The outer sensor beacons have detected something."

"More of those bioships?" Reyes asked with apprehension. His crew's rescue operations were still underway and no effort could be spared for rebuilding their static defenses.

"No, the surviving six dragged their wounded with them into the neighboring system. As you know, it borders the Neutral Zone," his Xo reported.

Reyes took her meaning, "The Romulans."

"Not just them." She amended, "It seems every Typhon Pact fleet that disappeared on our border patrols have made their way to this system."

"Which means they just witnessed the 9th Fleet getting bludgeoned with their long range sensors," Reyes added for her.

"Yes sir," she nodded tersely, "Our problems may have just multiplied by a quantum measurement. The Romulans have wanted to destroy this station ever since it was built."

"And an alien attack by an unknown foe provides a convenient cover," Reyes concluded.

"You read my mind, sir," the XO admitted.

"Pamela, my first order is for you to stop calling me 'sir'. Next, get on the horn with anyone that'll listen. Get us some help," Reyes instructed.

"Command doesn't have a lot left in this region besides some Border Patrol ships," she advised.

"I don't care if they're Traffic Control cutters. Have them sent our way," Reyes ordered.

As she hustled off Reyes thoughts turned dark, I hope I live through this, Laren. I'd give anything to be able to hold you in my arms one more time.

---

Crevak, the Commander of the Warbird Viscera stared in horror at the alien behemoths opened fire on the Pact leaders hailing them. Within minutes the entire fleet was engaged...and getting destroyed. They were faring no better than the accursed Khitomer forces. He received a hail. It was Thot Gerin, the Breen leader in charge of the fleet.

Crevak knew that the Romulans should never have trusted this Breen simpleton with their fleet. Loyal Romulan soldiers were being butchered because of this swine.

Gerin spoke and his helmet produced a sound akin to an electronic handshake. Crevak knew the Breen hid their identities, racial and personal, behind their armor and false names. Crevak wished the coward had the simple courage to face him.

The universal translator took hold of Gerin's speech, "Commander Crevak, you are to cloak and withdraw at once."

"I will never abandon my station. Never!" Crevak proudly declared.

"I need you to report to our superiors that our efforts have failed and you have the only ship still capable of transluminal flight," Gerin bluntly replied.

"A subspace message can accomplish that," Crevak scoffed.

"But a living eyewitness can impart the severity of the truth," Gerin replied.

"And the truth is?" Crevak had to wonder.

"We are lost. Our arsenals are no match for these creatures. We need the transphasic torpedoes our enemies wield and we need antimatter bombs. Lots of them," Gerin imparted his wisdom, "We will distract the vermin while you make your escape."

"Thot Gerin, we can fight. We can..." Crevak began to argue.

"Go now! Before I unleash my weaponry on you while I still can," Gerin delivered his last ultimatum.

Crevak deactivated the comm viewer, "Engage the cloak. Bring us about and set course for Imperial Center."

Crevak's orders were carried out with a sense of urgency and an even greater sense of shame at the relief that the crew felt at leaving the battle behind. Crevak felt it himself. His reception on Imperial Center would not be a warm one.

He mused over that choice of names. Before the destruction of Romulus and Remus, Imperial Center had been the colony world, Saharien. When it, as the oldest and most developed colony, became the Imperial Seat and subsequently Imperial Center.

Praetor Tal'Aura had died along with the Senate and most of their families. Admiral Donatra seized the opportunity to proclaim herself Empress. It had been centuries since anyone had dared claim the throne but Donatra had the support of the people. Surrounded by fear and confusion, she offered strength. Her personal strength was proven to be formidable and with the aid of a few key allies, she carried the day and the integrity of the Romulan Star Empire was maintained.

"Have the accursed creatures pursued us?" Crevak asked his Sensor Tech at the Scan station.

"No, Commander. I can tell you, however that Thot Gerin's vessel killed one of the creatures by destabilizing their own warp core and ramming it down a bioship's throat before it exploded. Three more of the creatures were wounded as a result. The unharmed vessels seem to be patrolling the star system while their comrades make repairs or heal, however you wish to phrase it," the Scan Tech reported.

"You truly believe these ships of theirs are alive?" Crevak still couldn't wrap his mind around it.

"They produce life signs and register as a lifeform. The blisters that litter their bodies, however, are of an artificial origin and are grafted into the living flesh of the creatures," the Scan Tech explained.

"So our true enemies, whoever they may truly be, live inside those blisters?" Crevak was growing excited.

"Theoretically," the Scan Tech agreed.

"Congratulations! You may have just made me savior of the Star Empire," Crevak slapped the Tech's back and strode away to his own station.

The Tech scowled, "I seriously doubt it."

---

The Argyn held position and waited for their wounded ships to heal. Now, alerted to the barbarism of the neighboring races of this so-called "United Federation of Planets", they transmitted details of their findings to the Birth Sector and reinforcements were dispatched. These reinforcements would finish the extermination of the Federation and branch out to the worlds beyond.

The Cardassian Union, the Klingon Empire, and the Ferengi Alliance would all suffer for the harm they had caused by joining ten banner of the Federation. Even the enemies of these peoples would have to be exterminated. The Romulan Star Empire, the Breen Confederacy, the Tholian Assembly, the Gorn Hegemony, the Tzenkethi Coalition, and the Holy Order of Kinshaya had all failed to reach the mark of true civilization. While they showed technical innovation, they were barely sentient. They reacted as animals to the unknown and so like animals they would be tamed. Survival of the Fittest was a universal maxim and these beings weren't fit enough to compete with the Argyn so therefore they must be crushed.

There were those, like Contact Specialist Beriel that advocated using these races as breeding stock. They could be transformed into hardier beings and taught the light of true civilization. The counter argument came from experience hard won in days past. Lesser beings always rebelled especially after being properly equipped by their masters. Better to sacrifice them to extinction and allow some other lifeform to arise to dominance on their worlds that suffer that indignity again.

---

Almost a week later, Tezrene stormed into Bacco's office as soon as the doors were opened. Bacco's security agents almost brought the Tholian down but the President waved them off.

"You wished to see me, Madame Ambassador?" Bacco calmly asked. She had an idea of where this was going.

"My governments have consulted and we wish to join you," Tezrene announced without a preamble.

"I don't understand. You wish to join in an alliance with us?" Bacco angled.

"No," Tezrene stressed, "We seek a temporary partnership."

"For what purpose?" Bacco asked.

"Do not play coy with me, Madame President," Tezrene warned, "We are aware that you are aware that we have come under attack from these creatures with whom you began hostilities with."

"We were even less aggressive than your own forces when formal contact was made," Bacco said primly.

"Yes, but the USS Endeavor was not quite so circumspect, was it?" Tezrene was enjoying herself.

"No, it was not," Bacco said coolly, "But that doesn't explain your request."

"Like you, we wish to rid ourselves of this foe. Your 'planet killer' is the best chance of doing so besides expending large amounts of antimatter and creating subspace distortions that would hinder transluminal transit for years, perhaps decades, to come. In short, we will lure the creature sot a point that you designate at a time you designate and we will condone your dispatching them with your abomination," Tezrene offered.

"So, now you want us to use the weapon built into Corvat?" Bacco enjoyed rubbing it in.

"There is is a condition to this arrangement. After we have vanquished our foe, the planet will be destroyed," Tezrene counter proposed.

Bacco steepled her fingers and gazed over them at the environment suited Tholian, "And how do you propose we do that?"

"Our scientists suggest that you pilot the planet into a star," Tezrene supplied the answer.

Bacco thought about it, "Doable."

"When can you be ready?" Tezrene asked.

Bacco smiled, "It just so happens we're test firing the primary weapons array in two hours. Granting time to calibrate everything, I'd say we could be in position tomorrow."

"I will advise our respective militaries," Tezrene allowed.

"Why doesn't Admiral Akaar's office directly coordinate with your embassies military attaché?" Bacco asked, "And don't act like you don't know Akaar is the Alpha Quadrant Theater Commander."

"Very well," Tezrene agreed, "And I shall not pretend that Admiral Akaar doesn't already have our military advisor's comm code."

"Isn't life easier when we don't have to pretend or lie to when another?" Bacco asked brightly.

"Hardly," Tezrene huffed. She rotated her four legged body so that she was aimed at the door and stormed out as hurriedly as she'd stormed in.

Bacco hit the comm button on her desk and paged her aide, "Get me Secretary Shostakova. I need to see her immediately."

"Yes, ma'am," the aide perkily required.

Bacco quietly wished for the sarcastic stoicism of her former, Vulcan aide. He'd retired and returned to the aridity of his world to ease the aching in his joints. After his steady calm influence born of centuries of civil service, Bacco found his replacement far too excitable.

Oh well, she's just young and dumb, Bacco consoled herself, There are worse fates.

---

Chapter Eleven

The week had gone by hectically on Corvat. McMasters was committed full time to getting the massive, world-wide power system going. Parva and her Deputy Chief Engineer, Gilan, were in charge of charge of tending to the planet's warp propulsion system. Although it possessed traditional warp technology, it boasted transwarp conduit coils for travelling any distance and a gravitic lensing system for sublight travel.

Lt. Commander Mikeala Leishman, the Aventine's Chief Engineer and her crew, threw their weight behind Parva and Gilan. Commander Nog, the Defiant's Chief Engineer and the former Chief of Operations for DS9, added the starship's engineering team's effort to McMasters'. During breaks, Leishman caught up with Nog. Nog had been her superior when she'd been assigned to the station and they reminisced over some the quirks the adaptation of Federation technology to its Cardassian specs had brought on.

Leishman found herself slightly awed by Parva. She knew the usual about the Orion when they'd begun working together. Parva had brain damage and had come a long way in her recovery. However, the civilian engineer's familiarity with transwarp coils and gravitic lensing impressed her and a passing reference to time spent at Utopian Planetia sent Leishman on a feverish quest to discover all she could about Parva. The sheer number of walls listed as "Top Secret" that arose completely impressed her.

Likewise, Nog was utterly fascinated by McMasters. McMasters had been warned not to share any stories from his time with the SID so he recounted tales from his days with the Maquis. Nog had been a mere youth during those heartbreaking days. Serving alongside Ro, he developed a fanciful notion of the "romance" of the Maquis struggle. McMasters enjoyed showing off so he did little to disabuse his eager young assistant.

Ro and Dax oversaw the restoration but the heart and soul of the effort revolved around Macen and Taryn Argus. By this time, Argus had met Rockford and correctly deduced the nature of the relationship between Macen and the Angosian. She held her counsel for several days but now that everything was culminating to an actual test firing, she couldn't hold back any more.

"Really? You and the Angosian woman? While I'm glad that it's anyone but that Vulcan bitch, you really want to romance a mundane?" Argus asked.

Macen's eyes flashed fire, "The term 'mundane' was dropped from our vocabulary thousands of years ago, Taryn. You've been reading between the lines of too many history books."

"Brin, she'll be a crone while you'll barely be middle aged," Argus snapped back.

The look in Macen's eyes told her that she'd gone too far. For the first time ever, she was afraid of him. She realized that he could lash out at her and possibly kill her and that he'd be perfectly content to do so. She'd seen that spark in him during their time on the Yuros penal colony together but that essential force had been restrained. Now she was unleashing the beast and it was hungry.

"Don't tempt fate, Taryn," Macen warned.

His comm badge sounded and he stepped off. She made to follow but Radil intercepted her, "Let the man work."

Argus scowled and she went over to a portable replicator and got some coffee. Rockford moved in and squeezed Radil's arm. Radil began to smirk and gave the Angosian some berth.

"Hello Taryn," Rockford smiled, "I thought it was time we had a little chat."

Argus smiled victoriously, "You mean you want to warn me off your man."

"Nope," Rockford admitted. Seeing Argus' confusion she opted to go further, "I don't need to. What you're trying won't work."

Rockford could see in Argus' eyes that the El-Aurian doubted her word. She smiled even more brightly, "I don't have to worry because I know something about an 'empathic cascade'." Are you familiar with that phenomenon?"

Argus flinched and so Rockford pressed even harder, "Of course you do. It's natural to your people. You see, I didn't know anything about it until a couple of years ago. Now I'm intimately familiar with it. Stress on the word 'intimate'."

Rockford saw a hint of defiance in Argus' eyes so she decided to squash it, "I know how Brin feels about me. That's because in the cascade no feelings can be hidden. It's everything, good, bad, and ugly. I know every facet of Brin's feelings for me. Would you like to hear what they are?"

"Not really," Argus tried to bluster.

"Oh, I really think you need to hear it," Rockford's smile was glacial now, "He loves without preamble or precondition. It's total, all consuming, and totally free of prejudice. It's forgiving and all encompassing. He loves every part of me and some of those pieces aren't very pretty yet he loves them regardless."

"Did you know I tried to kill him?" Rockford suddenly chimed in, "On more than one occasion yet he took a gamble on me. Not only personally but professionally."

"I feel those ways about him as well. I had to relearn how to love but I grasp it in its immenseness by being loved by that man," Rockford concluded, "Now if you seriously think you can interfere with that, feel free."

Argus was startled, "You're serious."

"Completely," Rockford assured her, "But let's recall the past. You were Brin's first lover. Were you his first love? I don't think so. He would've fought harder if you were and I know you know this. Then came Arinea. She faked her own death and he didn't see her for almost two hundred years. When he did, he killed her. Then came Lisea Danan."

Rockford saw the startled look in Argus' face and she smiled again, "Didn't know about that one did you? They went their separate ways amicably because he wasn't truly in love with her. Who he was in love with was T'Kir, whom you met on Yuros. She literally died so that ended that relationship."

Rockford's gaze was steady and rock hard as she stared into Argus' eyes, "Now there's me. I can only hope to be his next great love. Will I grow old and die before he does? Yes. Is there a chance he'll leave me when I'm old to find greener pastures? Yes, but I don't think that will happen. Why do I think that? It's because he loves me wholeheartedly and without reservation. And when Brin loves, he loves for a lifetime, whether it be mine or his."

Rockford's gaze turned fierce, "So if you do anything to hurt him or betray him during our little 'mission' I will personally punch your clock and send you to the great beyond."

"What do you know of the El-Aurian afterlife?" Argus scoffed.

"A great wall, small gate, leads to the Fates and judgment?" Rockford sarcastically quipped. She adopted a knowing smile when she saw Argus blanch, "I know a little something. The judges in your belief system are known as the Fates. For humans it's God. What is a common thread between the two is that souls are judged into damnation or paradise."

Rockford waved aside Argus' expected protest, "Now I know that it's really a transmigration of the soul as the physical is cast aside and the soul transforms into a state of pure energy. That's the theory at any rate. What matters is no one knows what paradise looks like but they know something of the damnation."

Argus was squirming now and Rockford had to admit she was enjoying it, "You become living ghosts. Beings of noncorporeal energy that wander about the living world but unseen and unable to affect the physical world. Completely forgotten."

"I bet that thought terrifies you," Rockford guessed, "You want attention and to be noticed so badly it's a physical need. You want to leave a permanent mark on history. A mark so big every race in the galaxy will know of it. Does that sum it up?"

"Damn you," Argus hissed, "How can you know any of this?"

"Well, Brin told me a helluva lot," Rockford admitted, "But the choice bits about you? That was simple observation and deduction. That's what I do and I'm damned good at it."

Argus mutely stared at Rockford for several minutes. Finally she choked out, "That's good to know."

Rockford smirked, "Just keep it in mind."

With that said, she strolled off. Argus took a nervous sip of her coffee and found it had turned cold. Disgruntled, she placed in the replicator and adjusted its temperature. She gingerly approached Radil.

"Just who is she?" Argus conspiratorially asked.

Not wanting to give anything untoward away, she replied; "She's a private investigator. And she 's one of the best."

"I can imagine," Argus murmured.

---

Macen took a break. The engineering teams had called in their "all clears" and the system was ready for a test. The first system to be tested was the gravitic lensing process. They were moving Corvat out of its orbital track and into the outer system. Travel across the surface on foot or ground vehicle would become impossible due to the plunging temperatures.

Fortunately the crews had been moving via shuttle craft. While the Defiant team was utterly dependent upon their starship's transporters, the Aventine was equipped with Type-9 shuttles and Danube-class runabouts. The Corsair was on standby inside of the Obsidian. Grace had audibly wondered why but Macen simply told her that she would be needed at a moment's notice so she should remain at her station.

While Grace moved into the Corsair, the team within the control center was now dependent upon the seal placed over the open roof by Starfleet's previous A & A teams. The interior was heated and tents had been set up in antechambers as well as portable sonic showers and waste reclaimators for bodily waste. The replicators were in the chamber where the Cardassians had once hosted a security station. It was long gone and tables and chairs were set up in its place.

Macen sensed Rockford's pleasure. He grinned, "Finally had a chat with Taryn?"

"Who me?" she played the innocent.

"Celeste, you're eking satisfaction. Since you haven't much to do but review everything we know about our opponents, it has to have something to do with Taryn. She's irritated you ever since the two of you met," Macen confided.

"Can you blame me?" Rockford scoffed.

Macen's grin transformed into a warm smile, "No, I can't. Just what did the two of you find to talk about anyway?"

"El-Aurian metaphysics," Rockford popped off.

Of all the answers Rockford could have come up with, that one was the least expected; "Really?"

"Life after death. Transmigration and transmutation of the soul. Being a living ghost. All that kinda stuff," Rockford sweetly explained.

"Would any of this life after death talk have anything to do with your theory that Taryn craves attention, both in this life and in history?" Macen wondered.

Rockford's reply was cheeky, "Oh, you know me too well."

Macen gave her a knowing look. He queried the comm system as to the time and cursed, "We've only got ten more minutes until we test this monstrosity."

"Brin?" Rockford was suddenly subdued, "You always refer to the aliens we're fighting as the 'opposition.' Everyone else pointedly calls them the 'enemy." Why the deviation?"

"I know you really don't have access to Annika's memories but she could tell what an enemy is. These creatures don't qualify," Macen declared.

"Brin, they blew the hell out of several fleets and are attacking every ship, station, and planet they come across," Rockford accused.

"I know it sounds ludicrous but this is all because of a misunderstanding," Macen defended his position, "And before you protest, review the log records. These creatures opened negotiations and we stated our desire to prove peaceful relations. They simply replied that they would see and then they attacked."

"Which proves everyone else's point," Rockford insisted.

"I think we're missing something. They attacked because we wanted peace. Our counter attack triggered an insane response within them and we've been fighting ever since. What if we weren't supposed to reply? What if we were simply supposed to accept our fate?" Macen inquired.

Rockford's mouth puckered as she thought it over. She'd seen the same patterns that he had but had drawn a completely different conclusion. She'd seen the aliens' motivates as being standard for a known Alpha or Beta Quadrant race. It never dawned on her to think of them as an abstract that had developed a completely independent way of thinking. She admitted as much.

"If these beings are the creators of the Omicron, and the Omicron are at least 100,000 years old, then they may be one of the Elder Races that arose after the First Ones. We have fragmentary clues about that first species. They seeded worlds in order to pass on something of their genetic code into a variety of species. It's why so many humanoid species can interbreed. Next arose the Elder Races. They established great cultures and fostered life around them. At least some did. Others, like the Shedai, enslaved other less advanced cultures. Then there were those like the Preservers that established 'game preserves' for threatened cultures on certain worlds," Macen described the history of the galaxy, "We don't know much about the Elder Races other than most of them have died away or moved beyond this stage of existence. If these beings are really an Elder Race, then their way of thinking may be unrecognizable to us."

"Don't be a pessimist," Rockford admonished, "If these things are an Elder Race and if we've misread their cues, we'll figure it out."

"Let's just hope little ol' Corvat doesn't convince them otherwise," Macen mused.

Rockford scowled, "Maybe it's just what they need to rethink their strategy."

"We can only hope," Macen said darkly.

---

Five minutes later they were in the command center. Argus and Macen were manning the controls. Argus had control of the flight operations interface. She'd always been a better pilot than Macen and since they also wanted to keep her away from the guns, she was elected to pilot an entire planet.

Parva and Leishman reported in one last time. They gave a green light to engaging the engines. Argus pulled up the holoplot projected from an emitter array that took up the bulk of the command center's central space. What Starfleet considered a tactical display was shown. Danan had arrived to assist Argus with her navigational plots. As a stellar cartographer, the science officer was more than equipped aid Argus.

With Danan's participation, Argus set course for the outer system. There was a massive shudder as the planet shifted out of orbit. There had been many fears of massive earthquakes and volcanic upheavals as the tectonic plates endured the stress of the orbital shift. Fortunately, the creators of this technological terror had accounted for that and a damping field akin to an inertial damper alleviated the worst of the stress load.

The planet moved across the system at a rate of .9 c. That equaled maximum impulse in most Federation starships. They were headed for the 8th planet in the system. The primary had originally had 14 planets locked in orbit around it. Now it had 13. If all went well, there would be fewer than that by the time that Starfleet was done.

The 8th planet was a rarity in outer worlds. It was a world very similar to Ceti Alpha V after the destruction of its sister, Ceti Alpha VI. It possessed a weak atmosphere and was dominated by high winds and dust storms. It also possessed three nickel-iron moons varying in size between Luna, Titan, and Ganymede. Meaning two of the moons were 2x as large as Luna. The planet itself was larger than Earth, roughly the size of Uranus, or 15x the mass of Earth.

Argus parked Corvat 50 million kilometers from its targets. They were going to fire first at Scarab, the Luna sized moon, to calibrate the weapon. The second test would be a shot at Khalid, the Titan sized moon. The last moon to be used as a test range was Nile. Finally, the primary world itself would be targeted and theoretically destroyed.

"We're all set, Boss. You can start creating navigational hazards at any time," McMasters jested over the comm line.

Macen called up the holographic controls. They worked like a touchscreen with no physical screen to manipulate. Scarab was floating past in its orbital track. Macen toggled the "Capture" button and then tapped the 3D image of Scarab. He then touched the "Commit" button.

A shudder passed through the command center. And the video and sensor feeds from the pursuing Defiant and Aventine displayed great streams of energy erupting out of the sands of Corvat and coalescing into a single beam. That beam lanced out and struck Scarab.

Scarab shattered into billions of pieces but some of the energy bled off of it and struck Goshen below. Macen conferred with McMasters and he and Nog made some flow adjustments and then gave the "all clear."

Macen had to wait for Khalid to enter maximum firing range. Once the moon was in position, he repeated the process. The discharge effect repeated itself and the energy unleashed destroyed Khalid. The moon was nothing but rubble.

They repeated the process on Nile 30 minutes later. Finally, Goshen was utterly destroyed and the solar system had an entirely new asteroid belt to navigate through. Macen shut down the weapons systems.

"How long between impact and detonation?" Macen inquired of Danan.

"3 seconds," Danan reported.

"Seems to be a nice symmetrical number nowadays," Macen mused. He focused on Argus, "Can you get us to the Genesis Sector?"

"If Danan helps me find it, I can get us there," Argus boasted.

"I'll let the engineers a final warning and when they clear us, engage transwarp drive," Macen instructed.

"Yes, master," Argus quipped.

Macen gave her a longsuffering look in return, "You wish."

"Well, I have to admit..." Argus fell silent as she saw Rockford in the distance over his shoulder.

"You were saying?" Macen asked in a bemused tone.

"Nothing," Argus went back to conferring with Danan over her plot.

---

Parva and Leishman gave the transwarp coils a clean bill of health. They were nearly identical to the Borg designed coils that Voyager had brought back from the Delta Quadrant. A future incarnation of Kathryn Janeway had brought them. She'd been assimilated by the Borg Queen for her aiding the present crew of Voyager. A bitter irony was the fact that the current Admiral Janeway had also been assimilated by the Borg during the Federation's last stand against the murderous intentions of the Collective.

Parva's expertise with theoretical and exotic machinery was vital to the effort. Leishman's own expertise with slipstream drives and other advanced propulsion systems placed her in good stead to match wits with the Orion. Parva's own deputy, Gilan, was lost in the proverbial mist. He was accustomed to the prototype drive in the Obsidian. The Nova-class surveyor could easily exceed its rated maximum velocity of warp 8 and could instead reach speeds up to a maximum of warp 9.751 for up to twelve hours.

It was their combined efforts though that carried the day and the transwarp drive was cleared for testing. Argus found the appropriate star map with Danan expertly guiding her. The plot was laid in and Argus activated the drive. A transwarp conduit opened and the planet was whisked away.

---

"Captain," Delaney caught his CO's attention, "The Aventine is hailing us. She says that Corvat is now in position in the Genesis sector."

"Put Captain Dax on screen," McKinley ordered.

Dax's petite frame filled his viewer, "Hello Jim."

"Did the Aventine accompany Corvat through the transwarp conduit?" McKinley had to ask.

Dax broke into an impish grin, "No, we pursued using our slipstream drive. Ro and the Defiant assumed a tight orbit over the world and rode it out. Apparently it was quite bumpy. They'll be cleaning up the deckplates for a few hours."

McKinley could only imagine the scene aboard the Defiant, "Ouch. I'm glad I missed that one."

Dax twinkled, "I doubt even Prynn Tenmei will want to try again."

"Finally met her match has she?" McKinley chuckled. Tenmei's daredevil escapades were only rivaled by Hannah Grace. Like the fighter pilots aboard his own ship, the Defiant's XO had become fast friends with Grace.

"How is our favorite SID team faring?" McKinley inquired.

Ears across the bridge perked up. The team and the crew of the Obsidian were as much a part of their family as the crewmen aboard the Intrepid. Delaney was supposed to marry Grace next month, further cementing the bonds between the two crews. In an odd sort of way, McKinley owed his love life to Macen. If he hadn't become so jealous of Massoli's flirting with the SID Mission Commander, he wouldn't have made his move. It turned out that Massoli had silently returned his unspoken affections for some time now. Flirting with Macen had only been a gambit to force McKinley's hand.

"They had it pretty easy," Dax assured him, "The things inertial dampers are designed to withstand nearly limitless velocities."

"I guess I don't have to say I'm relieved," McKinley smiled.

"Your favoritism towards Macen's team is the stuff of legend, Captain," Dax teased.

"When you've traveled the paths that we have together, it's only natural," McKinley defended his crew.

Dax smiled brightly, "Have no fears. I feel the same way towards the crews of the Defiant and DS9."

"Only there isn't a station anymore," McKinley gently reminded her.

Sadness clouded Dax's features, "I know but Ro has assurances that it will be rebuilt."

"Not another Cardassian monstrosity I hope," McKinley said with disgust.

Dax laughed, "No, it's going to be a Bajoran design this time."

"Have the Bajorans ever built a space station?" he skeptically asked.

"It'll be their first," she mischievously replied.

"Well, since you're calling to tell me that Corvat is in position, I suppose you want us to be too," McKinley guessed.

"That would be nice," Dax drolly replied.

"Have no fears, dear lady, my comrades and I will draw the herd off of DS3 and rescue Captain Ro's true love at the same time," McKinley proclaimed.

"Why Jim, are you turning into a romantic?" Dax queried.

"Isn't every starship captain?" he retorted.

"I'm too busy," Dax deadpanned.

"More's the pity. We'll head out now so have everyone standing by," McKinley instructed.

"They will be so informed," Dax replied jovially.

The viewer returned to its star field. McKinley turned towards Delaney, "Hail the Hood, the Monitor, and the Merrimack. We're going hunting."

"Aye sir," Delaney buried himself fin his work.

McKinley commed, Johnson, "McKinley to Admiral Johnson."

"Johnson here," came a disembodied voice.

"We're underway," McKinley informed him.

"Corvat?" Johnson asked.

"Seems to be fully functional. They already have it in position," the CO informed his superior.

"So now we draw in the fleet," Johnson mused.

"Yep, playing sitting duck is our specialty," McKinley joked.

"Inform the group that I wish them Godspeed and good luck," Johnson instructed.

"Yes sir," McKinley signed off.

"Pedrossi, plot a course to DS3, best possible speed," McKinley ordered.

"This is where it gets hairy," The young CONN Officer remarked as he laid in the course.

"I have every faith in your keeping us from getting shot," McKinley encouraged him.

"Yay me," Pedrossi grumped.

McKinley ignored the comment, "What's our ETA, Mr. Pedrossi?"

"4 hours, 23 minutes," the helmsman answered.

McKinley turned to Stryker, "Jonathon, I'm going to take the next three hours of down time to myself. Keep me advised of our situation. If we encounter the enemy before we reach our destination, I want to be alerted immediately."

"Give my regards to Jennifer," Stryker smirked.

McKinley couldn't deny his intentions. Lt. Commander Jennifer Marie Massoli was his Intelligence Officer but she was also his girlfriend. She wouldn't have much to do during the warp transit so he thought he could steal her away from her office for a few hours.

McKinley decided discretion was the better part of valor and began to steal away when he was interrupted by Lt. Commander Elizabeth "Liz" Liefers, "Captain, will my people see any action this time around?"

As the Flight Operations Officer, Liefers served as CAG for the Intrepid's two fighter squadrons. She and her squadrons had sat out their last encounter with the Argyn. They were afraid they'd have to do so again.

"'Fraid so, Liz," McKinley gently broke the bad news, "We're engaging in a fleet action to draw the enemy after us. Our fighters are fast but they'd get left behind at the speeds we'll be travelling at."

"I knew you'd say that," Liefers grumped as she leaned against her station.

"Have Emily build you faster fighters," McKinley suggested.

"Permission to leave the bridge and report to Engineering," Liefers asked, "It's not like I have a helluva lot to do besides holding down my seat."

McKinley smiled, "Permission granted. And say 'hi' to Robert and Lt. Johnson."

Liefers blushed as she entered the turbolift with him. Robert Caplan was the ship's Chief Engineer. He was also Liefer's boyfriend. Emily Johnson was his Deputy Chief Engineer. Johnson was always looking for a new project. Retrofitting the fighter squadrons should keep her busy for a few days. At least that was the theory.

---

Chapter Twelve

The Intrepid, Hood, Monitor, and Merrimack dropped out of subspace in DS3's assigned system. Support craft had spent last week clearing a trail through the wreckage of allied starships. 3rd Fleet had arrived to bolster the station's defenses. Only 3 more fleets remained. However, Starfleet still had hundreds of ships deployed around the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. All were being recalled for the crisis.

Captain Mackenzie Calhoun was in command of a new allied fleet. Typhon Pact forces were supporting it. The fleet was six times larger than anything put together during the Dominion war, it was the deadliest force ever assembled in the dual Quadrants. And it was all staged around Deep Space 3.

The Argyn had sent reinforcements to their comrades near the Neutral Zone. Others had deployed into the Beta Quadrant and were attacking Romulan, Klingon, Kinshayan, Gorn and Tholian bases. The Breen, Cardassian, Tzenkethi, and Ferengi were also under attack. The Typhon Pact and Khitomer nations were defending themselves but they still managed to send units to Calhoun's force.

The Argyn had gathered their largest force in order to oppose the station that had inflicted such damage. Now with the gathered defenders, the Argyn were even more determined to strike out. So much in fact, they deployed before Johnson's picket force could arrive.

Calhoun divided his forces into three sections. The Typhon Pact nations were under the command of Sela and her forces would sweep in and flank the backside of the attacking Argyn as they engaged Calhoun and Chakotay's forces. Calhoun had command of one half of the Starfleet and allied force while Chakotay had the other. They would open a hole in their center to lure the Argyn in and then collapse down around the bioships.

The Argyn charged into the system. They were met by the allies in the outer system neat the Kuiper Belt. The Argyn fell for the bait and the allied forces hemmed them in on every side. However, the allied forces were being immolated. Calhoun called for a retreat even as Sela finally launched her attack.

The Typhon Pact ships suffered the same high rate of loss that the allied forces did and Sela sounded a retreat after she had lost 3/4 of her force. Starfleet had lost 1/2 its force. The Ferengi suffered the lightest casualties, lost only a 1/3 of their forces. The Cardassian Militia equaled the Federation's losses. Unfortunately for them, the Klingons had lost 3/4 of their force, owing to wasted displays of bravado against superior forces. For them, it truly was a good day to die.

The Intrepid and her cohorts emerged from the Kuiper Belt to find dozens of active bioships. Half of their original number was now dead or wounded. McKinley ordered a transphasic torpedo strike against the Argyn ships in order to get their attention. The active bioships recoiled in pain as the transphasics tore holes in their flesh.

The active Argyn ships turned and pursued the decoy force. The starships leapt into subspace and proceeded at warp 9 to the Genesis sector. The Argyn bioships, limited to warp 9 in standard warp velocities, attempted to ambush the picket force several times by leaping ahead in slipstream drive. Johnson's force was watching for that and navigated away from their original course then only to set their plot for Genesis again when the danger had been averted.

---

After six hours of cat and mouse games, the picket force arrived in the Regula system. Corvat sat waiting for their pursuers. The Argyn paused when they entered the system, as if sensing something was amiss. The Starfleet ships swooped around and fired upon the bioships again.

Once again, the pursuit was on. The starships raced past the relocated planet as the bioships slowly undulated through space on a cautious approach. Johnson commed Macen.

"Now's the time, Brin. Open fire," he ordered.

"Have you tried hailing them again?" Macen wondered.

"We try every time we encounter them. They simply aren't responding. Now fire," Johnson stressed.

He could hear Macen's hesitation, "Dammit Brin! Lives are hanging the balance. Now shoot them!" Johnson demanded.

"All right!" Macen snarled back. The line went dead and Johnson looked over at McKinley as the CO sat in the center seat. His old friend was holding his breath too. He could imagine that every starship crew assembled here was doing the same.

Macen highlighted a bioship and toggled the holographic "commit" button. The energy lance speared forth and gutted the bioship. It was literally filleted. Pieces of the massive creature began to float in different directions.

Macen selected another target and fired. Another bioship died. He hated to imagine what was happening to the inhabitants of those ships. He heard an orgasmic gasp and looked over at Argus in horror. She was getting a sexual thrill from watching the Argyn die.

Macen suddenly felt dirty but he fired at a third target. At this point, the Argyn replied in kind. Particle beams lashed out at Corvat's surface. Immense stretches of arid land were torn apart as the weapons fire scorched them. Kelbonite laced sands were fused together.

The energy bleed from the El-Aurian weapons battery and the Argyn reprisal ionized the atmosphere and a massive electrical storm was building. What free water there was vaporized and formed dark, rolling clouds. The discharges neutralized the availability of transporter use. They were completely and utterly dependent upon support craft now.

"Do it again!" Argus begged.

Macen gazed at her in disgust. She was oblivious. Johnson called again wanting to know if there was problem and that was why Macen had stopped firing. Macen's reply was to skewer another bioship.

---

Five minutes later the solar system was filled with bioship guts. The mechanical portions of the ships underwent close in scans and it was discovered that the energy discharges had ripped through the inhabited portions of the ships and killed all of the crews. Forensic and science teams were going aboard the more intact portions and analyzing the physiology of the dead.

Macen reminded Johnson that Starfleet regulations and Federation law forbade dissecting the corpses. Non-invasive autopsies were allowed as his team, with Sikorsky's help, had performed on the Omicron Ezexial. Macen had killed the Omicron provocateur and Danan had joined the Intrepid's CMO in an examination.

"I'm sure Andreja herself will be quoting the rulebook," McKinley assured the El-Aurian. Once upon a time, aboard a completely different Intrepid, McKinley and Sikorsky had been lovers. That was before they switched starships and McKinley took the center seat for himself. It sure as hell was way before Massoli stepped into the picture.

"Just to warn you, the sensors on this weapons array are pretty fantastic. Lees detected a subspace pulse like the one that seems to have created all of the problems back at Omicron. It was during the final round with the last bioships as they committed to kamikaze attacks," Macen informed McKinley and the flag officer sitting beside him.

"Where was it directed?" Johnson asked.

"Pretty much everywhere. It seemed like a basic SOS. Of course, whoever answers it is going to be sorely disappointed," Macen commented.

"But you think help is coming?" Johnson asked.

"I'd count on it," Macen advised.

Johnson turned to McKinley, "Have one of the corpses brought aboard. Andreja and her people can look at it while the rest of us go on alert."

"Oh, she'll love that," McKinley quipped.

"Tell her to make due and that it's a direct order from me," Johnson counseled.

"Trying to protect me from my own CMO?" McKinley chuckled, ""Or does this range into ex-flame territory?"

"Neither," Johnson assured him, "As the standing representative of the Council of 5, I'm the next best thing to the Alpha Quadrant Theater Commander that you're going to see for a while. I'm thinking strategy here. The more we know about the enemy the easier it may be to communicate with him the next time we meet."

"And handling their dead gently equals a show of good faith," McKinley surmised.

"You'll have my job in no time," Johnson chuckled.

"No thanks. I was happy to step up and take command of the ship but you can keep the Diplomatic Envoy crap," McKinley confessed.

Johnson had no reply.

---

Over the next three days, three Argyn fleets assembled and assaulted Corvat. Reports came in from across allied space. The Argyn had withdrawn in order to attack the world-weapon. The Typhon Pact was reporting that the Argyn had left their territories as well. What they wouldn't reveal was how stark their losses had been before that withdrawal.

Three more days passed without incident and finally Johnson visited Corvat, "You may be able to stand down, Brin. We have ships scouring both Quadrants and there are no signs of those beasties."

"And like I warned you, the ships all broadcast a subspace pulse in one direction before they died," Macen bit back.

Johnson scowled, "Omicron."

"Or at least somewhere in its periphery," Macen amended, "Lees was specific about the directional plot though."

Johnson took an appreciative look around the control center, "I still can't believe your people built this."

"Just because you're used to my people simply being refugees?" Macen dryly inquired, "Besides this was constructed by an offshoot splinter group of my people that identified themselves as the Selah."

"Yes, I've read the report you filed after you and Ro uncovered the Cardassian plot to annex Corvat and utilize its power," Johnson admitted, "I've also read Dr. Argus' papers on the matter."

Macen wore a rueful expression, "You let her write papers about all of this?"

"Starfleet requested them," Johnson informed his friend, "We classified all of her documents. She wrote them in exchange for a consideration of the possibility of parole."

"Because heavens forefend the all benevolent Federation should incarcerate someone for the entirety of their natural born life," Macen acerbically remarked.

"It is going to be an extremely long life," Johnson dryly observed.

Macen gave him a baleful look, "I've known her for over 300 years. She hasn't changed since the day I met her."

"Yet you and she...?" Johnson bemusedly inquired.

"We were professional partners. I was young and she was my mentor. I found her experience to be an aphrodisiac. I soon learned the error of my thinking," Macen wryly explained.

"She's older than you?" Johnson yelped.

Macen grinned, "She's over 650 years old. So if you're imagining any possible...meeting of the minds, be warned. Her mind has been around several blocks."

"Wouldn't that make her the same age as Guinan?" Johnson wondered.

"Roughly," Macen agreed, "Guinan isn't very forthcoming about her actual age so no one knows for certain. All we have to go on is when she started reporting for the Expeditionary Forces and the fact she's had 23 husbands."

"23...?" Johnson yelped again.

Macen smirked, "She got lonely."

"But she hasn't been married for at least..." Johnson waited for Macen to supply the answer.

"40 years," he obliged.

"40 years," Johnson murmured, "And for your people, that's a drop in the bucket."

"Feeling old, Bob?" Macen queried him.

Johnson smiled ruefully, "Only in my heart and soul. If our friends Ed Noyce and Elias Vaughn can teach us anything, it's that modern man can contribute well beyond previous expectations."

"But?" Macen prompted him into speaking further.

"It's this damn war," Johnson admitted, "I'd been ruminating over everything we discussed even before you through the facts back in my face. We missed an opportunity somewhere. We should be talking to these beings, not butchering them."

"Well, if it's any consolation, we won't be doing so for much longer," Macen consoled him.

"Have we run out of enemy to fight?" Johnson sarcastically quipped.

Macen gave him a wry expression of disgruntlement, "The geothermal taps are stressing the planetary core. It's destabilizing. The atmosphere has been ionized and has been transformed almost entirely into pure ozone. Only the air scrubbers within the different control node sites are keeping the air pure enough to breathe but we've had to seal all of them so the outside air can't enter."

"You noticed that when you arrived and had to wear a breather mask. You also noticed that transporters are inoperable within the atmosphere," Macen described the scene.

"How bad is the core?" Johnson wondered.

"Tectonic shifting is already occurring. Earthquakes have plagued every node, including this one. The inactive volcanoes are becoming active again and are further polluting the atmosphere," Macen explained, "The lichen growths have all died off because of the freeze after leaving the host primary. There's no living mechanism to clean and replenish the oxygen in the atmosphere. In short, we've killed this world's ecosystem."

"But surely these 'Selah" would have thought about that," Johnson pleaded.

Macen gave him a pitying look, "The Selah were one of dozens of violent offshoots of my people. When the pacifistic ideals my people were famed for, and ultimately doomed us to the Borg, were introduced many resisted and took to the stars to find new lands to conquer."

"Like the Romulans leaving Vulcan," Johnson saw the similarity.

"That's the local variant and for much the same reason," Macen concurred with the analogy, "Neither Taryn nor I can find any mechanisms for stabilizing the planet. Everything seems geared towards offense. The Selah referred to Corvat as their 'redoubt'. It may also be their version of a doomsday weapon."

Macen's eyes suddenly blazed, "And having Taryn write 'papers' about this little 'blessing' only reinforces the concept that Starfleet has always intended to use this weapon."

Johnson met his friend's gaze and held it, "I won't lie, the option has been on the table a few times. The Council requested that Argus make her reports during the height of the Dominion War. However, the overriding concern was that the Founders would unleash a biogenic holocaust."

"You've already admitted that it was considered against the Borg," Macen prodded him to continue.

"Yes, the Borg's genocidal campaign made us re-examine our priorities regarding Corvat," Johnson confessed.

"Why wasn't it used then, when 'all hope was lost'?" Macen's voice dripped acid.

Johnson shook his head, "It wasn't that simple. The Borg sent 1700 ships in their final onslaught. Every world on the quadrant was threatened. Corvat could only defend one and if it left that one, then said world would be under threat again."

"So Starfleet Command wanted to send it to Sector 001 to defend Earth," Macen surmised.

Johnson looked pained, "Yes, only President Bacco wouldn't allow it."

"Why not?" Macen had to admit that he knew next to nothing about the sitting President and her actions surprised him.

"She couldn't condone defending one world when the rest would perish. She said, and I quote, 'It wouldn't be fair to the citizens that elected me if I didn't share their risk,'" Johnson revealed, "She even refused to join in the evacuation of the planet. She said she didn't deserve a guaranteed seat when everyone else was getting theirs through a lottery."

Macen grinned, "I think I like this woman."

"You might not," Johnson wore a rueful grin, "Gant Delane left her the 'Macen File'."

"I have a whole Presidential file dedicated to me?" Macen was decidedly bemused.

Johnson sighed, "Yes, you've managed to create enough diplomatic rows you've earned a place in infamy."

"But I get the job done," Macen said primly.

"And you have one more job to do," Johnson declared.

Macen looked pained, "Omicron?"

Johnson nodded, "Yes."

"I could say I don't recommend it but you'd just ignore me again," Macen realized.

"You have a keen grasp on the situation," Johnson confirmed Macen's fears.

"All right, but there's a condition this time," Macen counter offered.

"There are no conditions, Brin," Johnson sighed.

"Hear me out," Macen begged, "You're going to have to ride the conduit in a tight orbit around Corvat. Laren already discovered that it's the worst rollercoaster ride of your life. The picket force is going to need time to recover. That won't happen if we drop into the heart of the system."

Macen gathered together all of his powers of persuasion, "We're going to have to exit the transwarp conduit near the Kuiper Belt, towards the outer planets. While the starship crews are recovering and we're assessing the weapon's viability, I'd enter the inner system."

"But we need you on the damn gun!" Johnson thundered.

Macen held up his hands, palms towards Johnson, "Hear me out. Taryn has been studying me as I target the bioships. She wants to shoot them. She gets off on it in the worst way imaginable."

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" Johnson didn't want to believe it.

"Yup, and the President just set her free. Comfy thought, eh?" Macen remarked.

"But what the hell do you think you can accomplish in the Obsidian?" Johnson wondered.

Macen shook his head, "It won't be the Obsidian. It'll be the Corsair."

"A runabout? You want me to authorize you approaching these monsters in a runabout?" Johnson was reeling.

"When did they become monsters?" Macen quietly asked.

Johnson settled down, "All right. I see your point. You'll be our white flag."

"And maybe they'll be ready to talk knowing we have our really big stick sitting in the same system. If nothing else, they'll be wondering why we just don't move in and slaughter them," Macen added.

Johnson closed his eyes and weighed his options. He knew it could be tactical mistake that could cost them their one slim advantage. But if he said 'no' he'd never be able to sleep at night again. Enough lives had already been lost and for what? If there's was even a chance, no matter how slim, for a peaceful resolution that spared lives on both sides then he was duty bound to pursue it. Akaar may be prosecuting this war like it was a battle to the death but these creatures weren't the Borg.

Hell, even the Borg were brought to heel by peaceful means. The Collective was free. The trillion drones were now individuals again and yet they were all united in the Cailear Gestalt. While no miraculous rescue was going to come from an advanced species the opportunity for a good old fashioned dialogue may have arrived.

The question was who would comprise Macen's team? Johnson asked as much.

"Celeste and Hannah," Macen answered.

That answer came as no surprise. However, Rockford had studied the enemy at Macen's behest and she's seen behavior patterns that Johnson himself had missed. Macen had assured him she was an excellent observer of humanoid behaviors and quirks. Perhaps she could apply those skills to a non-humanoid species as well? And Grace? What was there to be said? She was a Kelvan and had resources undreamt of by humanity.

"All right," Johnson finally said, "But there is one caveat."

Macen grinned, "Okay, I'll play along. What is it?"

"You have to bring Hannah back alive," Johnson chuckled, "I believe Commander Delaney would shoot me if his bride-to-be ends up getting killed on this little jaunt."

Macen smiled, "I think I can arrange that."

"You truly think this is going to work?" Johnson had to ask.

"I've thought so for the last several years," Macen admitted.

"Years?" Johnson was taken aback, "You've known that we were going to face these people for years?"

"Let me clarify, I knew there was a threat out there that could possibly threaten the entire Federation. I didn't know the who, when, or where surrounding this threat but now I know it's them," Macen explained, "And I also know that one of the members of my team is the key to unraveling this mess."

That revelation caught Johnson cold and brought him up short.

---

Chapter Thirteen

Beriel approached Hennessy, "Sela Hennessy, may I have a word?"

Hennessy looked to Gomez, who nodded. Gev also shooed her away. Beriel bared his fangs in an approximation of a human smile, "Thank you Sonya Gomez and Gev ab Shon. Your assistance may help us end this destructive conflict between our peoples."

Beriel motioned to alcove under a petrified tree. No Omicron citizen or Starfleet officer was near it. Hennessy noted with some amusement yet again that Beriel made slurping sounds when he propelled himself across the cobblestones. When they reached the secluded spot Hennessy turned on Beriel.

"I've told you before, Beriel, I won't give you any information about my peoples' defenses," Hennessy warned him.

"Perhaps in the case you will make an exception," Beriel pulled a small globe out of the pouch he wore around his "waist". He activated it and a hologram of a desert world appeared. Argyn ships approached and the planet itself leveled a volley of fire that destroyed each and every one of the Argyn ships. It was then that she noted that Federation starships were in the periphery of this planetary scale weapon.

"What is that?" Hennessy asked.

"We were hoping you could tell us," Beriel confessed, "It has destroyed our fleet."

"You'll probably just send another one at it," Hennessy scoffed.

"No, Sela Hennessy, it has destroyed our entire fleet. Only the three ship expeditionary force here in this system remain," Beriel explained.

"How can that be?" Hennessy asked.

"The whaloong, the creatures we use as mounts, must reach maturity before they can be adapted to our purposes. Even then we must give those ten years in which to initiate the mating cycle. Except for a dozen brood mares, all of our captive whaloong have been killed by that...thing. It will be ten of your years before we can harness the strength of the current generation."

"So sue for peace," Hennessy urged.

"We did so at our first encounter with your people. You failed to pass the litmus test of civilization," Beriel complained, "And now we are going to be overrun by bloodthirsty savages."

"You do realize I take exception at that description?" Hennessy asked.

Beriel held up a tentacle true hand, "Wait. I am receiving a message."

He held a hand to what Hennessy had come to recognize as an ear canal. He held up the globe, "The planetary weapon has appeared from a transwarp conduit in this very system."

"So what's it doing?" Hennessy inquired.

"It has stopped forward propulsion and is hovering near the Kuiper Belt," Beriel reported.

"It seems to me they could've dropped in on you laps," Hennessy suggested, "Are there any starships with it?"

"Several," Beriel answered.

"And what are they doing?" Hennessey wanted to know.

"They are holding position in planetary orbit," Beriel described the scene even as he expanded the hologram to show the starships.

"They rode a planet's orbital track through a transwarp conduit?" Hennessy exclaimed.

"It appears so," Beriel said matter of factly.

"That had to be a helluva ride," Hennessy muttered, "Is there any movement whatsoever?"

"Yes, it seems a small support craft has lifted from the planet's surface and is in bound through the system," Beriel dryly explained.

"I'd say that's your opportunity," Hennessy recommended.

"Opportunity for what?" Beriel was confused.

"They obviously want to talk," Hennessy paused for effect, "Otherwise they would've swooped in and simply blasted you out of space already. Can you enhance that craft?"

An image of a Danube-class runabout dominated the image. Hennessy nodded, "Not only is it a small craft, it's a civilian small craft. They want to talk. They're providing themselves as a peace offering."

"Are they really?" Beriel mused, "We shall see."

"I don't like the way you said that," Hennessy commented.

"You have been invaluable, Sela Hennessy. Your input may change your various species' standing with us," Beriel applauded her, "Now I must return to my ship and evaluate this 'peace offering'."

"Just remember what you've learned from interacting with us," Hennessy pleaded, "And this can end happily for both sides."

"It is far too late for that, Sela Hennessy. But perhaps we can end things on an amicable note and you will all be able to return to your birth worlds."

He disincorporated and she pondered the meaning of his last words. Could they go home? Would the Argyn allow it? She didn't know but the troops needed the hope that it could come true. She turned and returned to where her officers and crewmen were enjoying a corner of the square.

---

"Do we have to go through that again?" Tenmei moaned.

"And here I thought you were the bad ass, ultimate thrill seeker," Ro taunted. She felt quite pleased with herself. Unlike last time, she hadn't heaved all over the deckplates. In fact, statistically speaking, the entire crew did better. Only a handful across the ship had reported to Bashir to get treated for severe motion sickness.

Lt. Evelyn Sanger turned from her tactical display. Sanger was still a little green around the gills but she was toughing it out, "Message from Admiral Johnson, he says to stand by. They're launching a runabout from the surface and it's going to proceed ahead of the force in order to establish contact with the enemy commander."

There was only one person stupid enough to try this harebrained stunt. She wasn't about to let Macen commit suicide on her watch, "Get me Admiral Johnson. Now!"

It turned out Ro was placed in a queue by Johnson's aide, Savit. Johnson finally addressed all of the starship commanders at once, "Commander Macen is proceeding on my personal authority. We still exist within a chain of command and that means my decision stands and you will all abide by it. That means you, Captain Ro."

"We still have one last chance to end this amicably and establish relations with these people. I'm not going to throw away any opportunity to do so. Our credo is still to explore 'strange new worlds and lifeforms'." Johnson said and then cut the connection. Leaning back in his chair he swiveled so he could gaze out of his office window.

Starfleet regulations bound him to the task force yet diplomatic contact was his purview. His dual hats were in conflict and he didn't like the one that had taken precedence. His people needed him even more than the diplomatic mission did as long as he had competent help. Macen was the only one that believed in this mission. That made him qualified. Hopefully the gesture wouldn't cost he and his team their lives.

---

"So tell me again," Rockford casually asked from the Science station, "Why are we doing this?"

"We're going to find out why these people are fighting us," Macen said patiently from the OPS station.

"Are you sure we not just the sacrificial lamb being offered to the angry war god?" Grace chimed in at the CONN.

Macen gave her a wry look and she shrugged, "I'm just saying."

"I get all that," Rockford clarified, "What I mean is why are we doing this? Isn't this more like Admiral Johnson's usual shtick?"

"Bob's a busy man," Macen sniffed.

"That doesn't answer the question," Rockford dryly retorted.

"What he means is, he has a clue as to what's going to happen next and he doesn't want to prejudice us from doing our preordained roles," Grace offered.

Macen rolled his eyes, "If they were truly 'preordained' they would be a certainty rather than a probability."

"I'm not sure that would hold up in court," Rockford opined.

"I'm not preparing a court defense," Macen asserted.

"You might be if you insist on talking to these people," Rockford insisted, "They're kinda fickle."

"Or that's just our perception of them because we haven't established a common frame of reference," Macen replied.

"It's 'Darmok' all over again," Grace piped up. Seeing the quizzical glances from her comrades she blushed, "It's one of the Enterprise logs. They used it as a First Contact lesson at the Academy."

"Someone actually studied," Rockford teased, "I bet you were the class brain."

"I had to be," Grace said in a subdued voice, "My people wouldn't accept any less."

Grace didn't mention her people very often. She mentioned her family even less. Her role as an infiltrator and spy in Starfleet was virtually off limits and her time with Section 31 was taboo. Rockford had shared with Macen that Grace was beginning to open up with her. Annika Ryst's past as an Augment Infiltrator made her accessible. Grace could easily relate to splitting oneself into several compartmentalized versions. She just couldn't literally do it as the Ryst had hence birthing Celeste Rockford and a myriad of other personalities.

Rockford's panel urgently beeped, "I think we're being approached."

"You mean you don't know?" Grace was suddenly all business.

"Hey, I know diddly about shuttles and runabouts. I let the computer fly them," Rockford defended herself.

"I've got it," Macen announced to fend off Grace's planned cutting remark. As a pilot and certified bridge officer Grace just couldn't imagine a life where one couldn't man any critical station at a moment's notice. Macen's OPS display shifted to sensor mode. An Argyn bioship was approaching.

"We've been spotted and they're approaching at .99c," he reported.

"I'd love to get my hands on the tech that allows them to bend space/time," Grace wished.

"Full stop, Hannah," Macen instructed, "I'll open hailing frequencies."

The bioship slowed in its advance. It finally stopped 130,000 kilometers away. Its looming presence filled the viewscreens. Several tense seconds passed while the three SID team members waited for their doom. Mercifully, the Argyn replied to the hail.

Beriel filled the mini-monitor to Macen's right. He, of course, was indistinguishable to them from the Argyn commander that had attacked Johnson's task force. When he spoke, the universal translator conveyed his hesitation.

"It has been suggested that you are a peace envoy," Beriel shared.

"This is true," Macen confirmed the theory as fact.

"You have the capacity to destroy us yet you wish to negotiate?" Beriel seemed confused.

"Our peoples regret the loss of life that has been inflicted thus far. We regret the loss of life to both sides. We would prefer to end the conflict here and now so that our two peoples could someday enjoy amicable relations," Macen informed him.

"Are you willing to testify to that effect to my ship commander?" Beriel asked.

"I thought that's what you were," Macen admitted.

Beriel's globular body shook as he laughed, "No, I am a Contact Specialist. I would examine you before the ship commander and determine your true motives."

"We agree. Shall we transport aboard your vessel?" Macen asked.

"No, you're matter/energy convertor will damage certain biotech mechanisms aboard our vessel. We shall tractor you in to a landing bay. Is that acceptable?" Beriel inquired.

"Of course it is," Macen assured him.

---

The Corsair lurched forward as the tractor beam took hold. They were brought to a dome-like mechanical "blister" that emerged out of the whaloong's back. They sat inside until the external sensors registered an atmosphere mix and pressure that fell in between M-class world classifications.

Grace popped the hatch and the trio exited. They milled about while they waited for an escort. Finally a hatch opened and three Argyn slushed in. Beriel halted his advance and waved them forward with his true hands.

As they made to approach, a field surrounded Macen and another encapsulated Grace. Rockford protested, "What gives?"

"He is not indigenous to this part of the galaxy and she is not even of this galaxy. They are not representatives of the native cultures of these regions," Beriel explained, "You are. Will you speak on behalf of your combined peoples?"

Rockford looked back at her comrades. Macen gave her an encouraging nod and smile. She faced Beriel, "All right but I'm hardly a diplomat."

"So much the better," Beriel assured her.

He led Rockford into the ship's inner corridors while the remaining two Argyn impassively watched over the captive SID teammates. The fields dropped and they were able to move about. Grace made to move in after Rockford but Macen stopped her.

"This is their game. We can't impose our rules upon it," he warned.

"Why do I get the impression that this doesn't surprise you?" Grace drolly inquired.

"Did T'Kir even mention why I brought Celeste aboard?" Macen wondered.

"She said Celeste had some grand destiny," Grace recited and then the implications dawned on her, "Oh shuk! This is it, isn't it?"

"The future is being made here," Macen shared, "And it all depends on whether or not Celeste can make one choice."

"What is it?" Grace wanted to know.

Macen shrugged, "I don't know. I only saw all of this in a fragmented glimpse."

"Will she make the right choice?" Grace suddenly had doubts.

"Now that is the question we need to ask ourselves," Macen replied, "That and how much faith do we have in her?"

"How much faith do you have in her?" Grace wondered.

"I trust her with my life. I'm just not sure I trust her with the fate of the galaxy," Macen admitted.

Grace suddenly looked very worried.

---

Rockford was led to an audience chamber. Three Argyn stood behind a raised podium and stared at her as though the weight of worlds rested upon her. She didn't like that feeling.

"Now Celeste Rockford, we shall begin," Beriel advised.

"How do you know my name?" she asked.

"Would you prefer another? We sense that you have several," Beriel said.

"You're telepathic," she surmised.

"Mildly," he corrected her, "But we are gathered here because of you. You say you want peace. You shall manifest this desire or we will renew hostilities."

"But you'll lose," Rockford said in horror.

"And in a generation, our heirs will return and wipe your gene pools out of existence," Beriel said with such confidence that Rockford had no doubts that he, and his people, meant it.

"All right. How do I 'manifest the desire for peace'?" she asked.

"You trade your life for theirs," Beriel said plainly.

That startled Rockford but then she began to think about it, "My life, for the lives of two quadrants?"

"Yes," Beriel confirmed the offer.

"And my friends aboard this ship?" Rockford decided to get technical.

"Will be freed as will the Starfleet officers on Omicron," Beriel explained.

Rockford really wished she had time to say goodbye to Macen but she didn't want to press her luck. She also knew her resolve could weaken of she told him of her choice. Steadfastly resolved, she announced her decision.

"All right, I'll take that offer," she declared.

"Very well," Beriel spoke to his fellows in his native tongue, which Rockford's translator decided to choke on.

A blister rose out of the floor. It had the distinct look of a particle beam emitter. She squared her shoulders and said a silent goodbye to her friends. It seemed a fitting death after all the harm she had caused throughout the years.

A green beam lanced out and struck Rockford in the chest. She gasped as it tingled but it had no effect other than that. It faded and she was left with a slight stinging sensation.

"I don't understand," she admitted to Beriel.

"You have demonstrated the true hallmark of civilization," Beriel happily announced.

"And that is?" she dryly asked.

"The capacity for self sacrifice," he explained.

"You mean that beam was harmless?" Rockford inquired, "You were merely testing my reaction?"

"The beam was quite deadly until you willingly accepted your fate in order to spare your assorted peoples," Beriel tried to phrase it in terms she would understand, "When that was established; we transmuted the beam to a harmless radiance."

"Then, when you're people encountered Starfleet's envoy, the proper response was to not respond," Rockford deduced.

"Precisely," Beriel was pleased that one of the humanoids had finally grasped this fundamental proposition.

"That's stupid," Rockford retorted to Beriel's dismay, "You attacked without warning or provocation. How were they supposed to know that not responding was the desired result?"

Rockford could swear that Beriel derisively sniffed as he said, "They are supposed to know because that is the civilized response."

"Then back that up, buster!" Rockford demanded, "When the Endeavor fired on your ships, you didn't just take it because you were oh-so civilized. You blew her away in 3 seconds time. Where was your 'civilization' then?"

"We will not be questioned by an inferior being!" Beriel hotly asserted.

"That's what galls you, isn't it?" Rockford had a new insight, "We're not all that 'inferior'. In fact we come frighteningly close to parity with you. Give us 20 to 50 years and it could be a level playing field. You created the Omicron 100,000 years ago and in all that time since, you've advanced so far that we 'minor' races are almost keeping up with you. That's gotta be humiliating."

Beriel seemed on the verge of responding when the ship commander spoke solemnly in that garbled mismatch they called a language. Beriel seemed to bow and then he addressed Rockford.

"Our arrangement will still be honored," he imperiously announced, "I am authorized to offer you a boon."

"What do you mean?" Rockford asked warily.

"Your psyche is fragmented. We can repair it," he offered.

"You can merge all of the personalities that I'm carved into?" she asked hesitantly, "Would I have full access to all of my memories?"

"Indeed and you would only have one core personality. All others would be erased," Beriel announced.

She thought about it. That meant her existence as Celeste Rockford would end. Annika Ryst would undoubtedly be the core personality since she was the original template. Still, it was a more than tempting offer. Her only concern was her relationship with Macen. What would become of it? Ryst would have all of Rockford's memories and feelings. Could she overcome her loathing of Macen and her humiliation at being defeated by him and learn to love him as Rockford did?

The risk was worth it, she decided. Speaking to Beriel she said, "Okay. Let's do it."

"Very well," he motioned with a true hand as a door opened, "Please follow me."

The room was stark and barren except for a single table. Beriel guided her to the table, "Please lie down upon this and relax."

Tentatively, Rockford lay down. As she did so, a biomechanical gel arced over her head and solidified. A second Argyn entered the space and began to manipulate holographic controls. Beriel loomed over her.

"Do not be afraid and do not resist. Resisting will only make you psychotic," he warned.

Great, just what Annika needs, Rockford glumly thought.

Tubules sprang firth and attached themselves to her temples. She began to feel warm and then she was awash with cascading memories. She saw everything that every personality remembered. Most of them stemmed from the war and what they remembered wasn't pretty. She saw the war, which she'd always been spared from, and she suddenly recognized the cause for Annika's great sorrow.

Ryst had always been an idealistic young woman. Called to serve her planet, she readily volunteered. Given a chance to join the Augment program, she leapt at the chance. Only, warfare wasn't all the propaganda programs said it was. Her heart broke as she divided into multiple personalities, each as deadly as she was. Years of death and destruction took their toll.

Finally an armistice was signed and the soldiers, including the Augments, came home. Only the Augments didn't get the parades and the medals, they got locked up in prison. Ryst's heart broke as her lover rejected her and cursed her name.

Then the Augments escaped. Hope swiftly became disappointment and Annika left Angosia for parts unknown and became a mercenary. If fighting personified Ryst's life, then fighting would become the essence of it.

Rockford was born when Ryst needed a getaway. She built up a reputation as a private investigator in the three months a year that Ryst was inactive. Finally, she'd become the fully active personality when Ryst retreated from the fore following the emergence of Bertram Sindis and the death of Robhurt B'nner. She'd sought an escape from her life and therefore handed the reins to Rockford.

The tubules detached and the arc dissolved. Rockford blinked several times in confusion. What the hell had happened? Why was she still here?

Beriel offered her a true hand and assisted her into rising to a seated position, "Are you all right, Celeste Rockford?"

"Why am I still here?" she asked, afraid that she'd slowly fade away any second now, "Where's Annika Ryst?"

"Annika Ryst was a damaged soul. She saw no further use in her existence. She envied your happiness and did not wish to take that from you. All of the multiple personalities felt that way. They have faded into nothingness and left you their memories so they will not be forgotten. It was a very civilized thing to do," Beriel proclaimed.

"So I'm alone, after all this time?" Rockford said with wonder in her voice.

"Search your mind," Beriel urged, "Do you find evidence of any other consciousness?"

"No." Rockford tentatively agreed, "I've just never been alone before."

"You have a nascent empathic bond with the El-Aurian. I do not feel you are truly ever alone," Beriel revealed.

"Can I see him?" Rockford blurted.

"Of course." Beriel assured her.

She was beaming as she slid off of the table.

---

Chapter Fourteen

Rockford was led back to Macen and Grace. Macen immediately recognized her overflowing happiness. He inquired as to what happened and Rockford shared the details of the "litmus test".

"There's more to it than that," he told her, "I've never seen you this...settled."

"I'm whole," she gushed.

"How so?" he wondered.

"I'm the only personality. Everyone else is gone, even Annika," Rockford shared.

"But what about their memories?" Macen wondered, "I know you have huge gaps in your memory from when the others were in control of your shared body."

"I have them," Rockford informed him, "And part of me wishes that I didn't. They're not very pretty. I have a feeling I'm going to have a lot of sleepless nights as I sort through all of this."

Macen drew her in to his arms, "I think I can help with that."

"You'd better," she warned, "I need your skills as a Listener more than ever now."

"I live to serve," he rejoined.

Rockford smirked, "You'd better. Otherwise I'd have to find a new love slave."

"Not while I live," Macen assured her.

She wore a rueful expression, "Annika had all sorts of ideas about that very topic."

"I bet," Macen agreed, "Are you going to be able to reconcile the disparate feelings?"

"I am nestled in your arms, or hadn't you noticed?" she teased.

"Hey, stranger things have happened," he retorted.

"Like your dead wife coming back to life?" she wryly asked.

"That's a perfect example," he concurred.

Beriel made a gargling noise in his throat, "Excuse me, but what shall we do with the guests on Omicron?"

"Guests?" Macen gave Rockford a quizzical glance.

"The survivors from the Endeavor," she supplied the answer.

"Would you mind if we collected our starship and proceeded to Omicron and transported the survivors aboard?" Macen inquired.

"Which of the vessels is it?" Beriel warily asked.

"The Obsidian. We were here before on an observation mission," Macen informed him.

"Yes, the one that Sela Hennessy described as a surveyor," Beriel recalled.

"I take it Sela Hennessy is one of the 'guests'." Macen surmised.

"She is their leader," Beriel happily said.

"While we are retrieving the guests could you contact Admiral Johnson?" Macen urged, "He's Starfleet's Diplomatic Envoy. That's why he was chosen to lead this particular mission. He has the authority to negotiate a cease fire and to establish boundaries regarding contact between our races and determine what our future relations will be."

"I would be most happy to contact this Admiral Johnson. Tell me, Brin Macen, what is his full given name?" Beriel wanted to know.

Macen looked amused so Rockford stepped in, "The Argyn, that's these guys, tend to address people by their full names. They usually learn them through telepathic means but since Bob isn't here they need us to tell them."

"Hence the 'Sela Hennessy' business," Macen mused before replying, "His proper name is Robert Tavar Johnson."

"Thank you, Brin Macen. We are indebted to your noble effort to bring peace between our peoples. Showing us a savage such as Celeste Rockford being able to overcome her primitive impulses and achieve the epitome of civilized behavior was a revelation," Beriel sang her praises.

"I wouldn't go that far," Macen quipped.

Rockford elbowed him in the gut, "Watch it, buster. Your love goddess demands respect."

"You must go now," Beriel insisted, "We will allow you 2 of your hours to retrieve your people. After that this system will be closed."

"That doesn't give you long to negotiate," Macen warned.

"The time shall be sufficient," Beriel assured him.

"Good luck then. I hope we can avoid misunderstandings like this in the future," Macen stated.

"Oh, we shall," Beriel cryptically declared.

---

The Corsair returned to Corvat. While the runabout was returning to the planet, Macen dispatched instructions to Riker. Riker eagerly lifted the Obsidian off of Corvat's surface and headed in system to Omicron. The rescue operation was hailed with much fanfare and rejoicing.

Beriel hailed Johnson. He took it in his office and the Argyn's image appeared on his monitor. Beriel explained the nature of the conflict between his people and the Federation. Johnson was incredulous at how Celeste Rockford had single handedly turned things around. Her selfless act deserved accolades at the highest levels.

"I can gladly accept your offer of a cease fire," Johnson joyfully admitted, "I've wished for nothing else since our first fateful encounter."

"Yes, Celeste Rockford has made us re-examine our determination process. She pointed out things that may have infested our perceptions and subsequent actions that we find quite disturbing. It shall take us some time to reconcile her insights with our paradigm," Beriel confessed.

That had to hurt, Johnson mused, "How would you like to proceed from here? My people would dearly love to start an exchange with yours. We believe in active engagement with foreign races so that we may know them better and have an exchange of ideas and grow stronger through our union."

"I can see the benefits of such an exchange. You have much to learn from us," Beriel said haughtily.

"You may be surprised and learn something from us," Johnson offered.

"I think not," Beriel reacted and then he softened his stance, "I do not think so at this time. Perhaps in another generation or two we will have much to offer one another."

"And how shall we arrange for that meeting?" Johnson inquired, "And how shall we approach further contact between our peoples? It's not like we don't know the other exists now and we have to establish a protocol for communication between our governments."

"We will contact you," Beriel announced.

"Excuse me?" Johnson was afraid he'd caught the alien's meaning.

"There will be no further contact until we deem it to be so. You will not attempt to contact us. In fact you will avoid us at all costs. You have a system for 'guaranteeing" a planet or a nation. You will quarantine us. I will provide details of where our birth worlds are located and you will respect our privacy."

"I must confess that I am disappointed," Johnson admitted.

"Stay disappointed. Our privacy and sovereignty must be protected at all costs," Beriel demanded.

"Of course your wishes will be respected. I must ask though, what of Omicron? They invited us into their system before you arrived," Johnson pointed out.

"Omicron is one of our territories. It will be as inviolable as the others," Beriel decided.

Johnson frowned. Beriel caught this cue and spoke, "Omicron will be our point of contact with you when we resume contact with you. Until that day you must allow us to heal the shattered remains that are Omicron."

"I suppose the cease fire depends upon this?" Johnson asked.

"Precisely. You will accept all or nothing," Beriel confirmed Johnson's fears.

Johnson adopted a rueful smile, "How can I say 'no'?"

"You cannot," Beriel determined.

Beriel let Johnson stew in his own juices before speaking again, "I will transmit the necessary data on a subspace frequency and binary format that your computers can understand."

"I have a feeling that you already have cleaned our computers out and know everything our data banks have on the Federation, her allies, and her enemies," Johnson surmised.

"You would be correct," Beriel seemed to sense Johnson's frustration. His time spent with Hennessy and her crew had proved enlightening, "Have no fears, Admiral. We no longer see you as mindless savages. You are not savages but wayward children finding your way in the galaxy. You have a spark of greatness in you and we wish to foster that. But first we must rebuild. Who knows how far you will have progressed when we reinitiate contact?"

"You got all of this from Celeste Rockford?" Johnson had to ask.

"Yes, what we gleaned from her has spared your worlds from genocide. You should be appreciative," Beriel lectured.

"Oh, we are and we'll be demonstrative," Johnson assured him.

Beriel happily rippled his gumdrop body, "I am pleased to hear this."

Beriel's demeanor turned serious again, if Johnson was beginning to be any judge of Argyn body language; "This system is now closed to you. You were given two hours to vacate this territory. You have 1 hour and 15 of your minutes left. Furthermore, there will be no more examinations or observations of this system, such as that conducted by the SS Obsidian earlier. No probes will be launched and no deep system scans committed. This area is a hole in space to you."

Johnson wanted to protest. He really did but he couldn't jeopardize the tenuous peace being offered. Corvat was on its last legs and the rest of Starfleet didn't stand a chance of repelling a renewed assault. He had to accept the offer and the terms were fair, they just stifled intellectual curiosity.

"We have an arrangement," Johnson conceded, "Send your data and we will immediately.

"Tell me, what will become of the planetary weapon?" Beriel finally asked.

"I was actually surprised you didn't make its fate a condition of your treaty," Johnson shared.

"We believe in free will. What you do with it is your concern but it will color our future relations," Beriel warned.

"One of the conditions of recruiting some of our tentative allies was the destruction of the planet. We always honor our bargains so it will be destroyed," Johnson revealed.

"Ah, yes. The so-called 'Typhon Pact'. You do realize that such a weapon would give you a significant strategic advantage?" Beriel inquired.

"A deal is a deal. It will be honored," Johnson assured him.

"Perhaps you are not so childish after all," Beriel commented.

"I'll take that as a compliment even though it was rather backhanded," Johnson remarked.

"I shall be transmitting the pertinent data as soon as I sign off here," Beriel announced. He held up a true hand, "Pleasant journey, Robert Tavar Johnson."

The screen went blank and Johnson waited for the data buffer to fill. It did and he saved everything in the queue. He then contacted McKinley and gave the task force its marching orders. The starships exited the system and set course for Federation space.

The Obsidian landed upon Corvat and the world transwarped back to the Genesis sector. The Aventine pushed ahead to alert Starfleet Command of the new cease fire and its stipulations. Meanwhile Johnson and the others settled into a 7 day cruise.

---

Three days later, Tezrene was summoned to Bacco's office. Piniero and Shostakova were also present. Bacco described the terms of the cease fire and handed Tezrene a padd and a data rod with all of the details.

Tezrene immediately made a demand, "The world-weapon Corvat must be destroyed immediately."

"We're working on that," Bacco assured her.

"No!" the Tholian screeched, "Our observers can be on station at a moment's notice. We will monitor the destruction and insure that you have not tried to replicate the weapon."

"Quite frankly, the technology behind the weapon is beyond either side's science," Bacco asserted.

"You agreed to our observers being present," Tezrene angrily reminded her, "Where is the weapon currently located?"

"I'm not certain," Bacco dug in her heels.

"Madame President, my governments are prepared to go to war over this and we both know that your once vaunted Starfleet is in no shape whatsoever to stop us," Tezrene leveled her ultimatum.

Bacco looked to her advisors. They both nodded their assent. Bacco took a deep breath, "Corvat is currently in the Genesis sector awaiting decommissioning."

"We do not want 'decommissioned'. We want destroyed," Tezrene stressed.

"We intend to destroy the control matrix with photon charges after plotting a course for the world to collide with the system's primary. Will that prove satisfactory?" Bacco asked impatiently.

"Yes, and our observers will make certain that it is all as you say," Tezrene promised her.

"We welcome the opportunity to demonstrate our good intentions," Bacco said sweetly.

Tezrene unleashed a Tholian curse that the translator refused to budge on and she shuffled out of the room.

Bacco turned to Shostakova, "Who doers Starfleet have in the area?"

"Jellico reports that Calhoun is available as well as Chakotay. The remainder of the fleet is still stationed around DS3," the SecDef reported.

"But these 'Argyn' are no longer threatening the station," Bacco reminded her.

Shostakova wore a pained expression, "But the Romulans have long had a desire to remove the station from its vantage point near their borders."

"And blame it on a residual Argyn strike," Bacco grasp the situation.

"Exactly," Shostakova confirmed it, "Captain Ericson can relieve Calhoun and that would free the Excalibur and the Titan to report to Corvat. We can also swing the Aventine their way now that she's returned to Federation space."

"Pull it up so I have a better idea of what's going on," Bacco instructed.

A holographic star plot appeared where Tezrene had just been standing. Starfleet symbols represented starships. Bacco was immediately taken aback by how few of those symbols there were now.

"My God, we've taken a beating," she gasped.

"Yes, ma'am," Shostakova concurred, "But our vital patrols are still covered with the exception of the Home Sectors patrol near Andoria. Our forces took a pasting there. The planet itself suffered as well."

Bacco sighed, "I know. The Andorian representatives to the Federation Council already submitted their articles of secession. It became official this morning. The Andorian Empire is no longer a member of the Federation."

"But there are thousands of Andorians in Starfleet and the Federation Security Service," Shostakova gasped, "When was I going to be informed of this?"

"Raisa, you were running a war. I thought I'd spare you the news until we had a resolution one way or the other," Bacco confided.

"What's that mean for our fleet assets? The Andorians will be owed some ships to get them by until they can domestically produce," Shostakova reminded Bacco.

"They've asked for 12 Miranda-class, 6 Excelsior-class, and 3 Ambassador-class starships from the Reserve Fleet," Bacco informed her, "I already signed them over."

"We just recommissioned those ships," Shostakova dryly remarked.

"Then the Andorians won't complain that we're handing over mothballed rust buckets," Bacco brightly commented.

"You're playing this as though the Andorians will come crawling back and beg for re-admittance," the SecDef realized.

"I wouldn't go so far as say 'beg' but I'm looking forward to the day they rejoin our family," Bacco smiled.

Shostakova snorted and Piniero spoke up, "The Andorian Empire's economy is totally dependent on trade with UFP member worlds. That pressure will prevent them from becoming complete isolationists."

"We'll see," Shostakova acerbically remarked, "If I've learned anything about Andorians it's that you never underestimate their paranoia or their stubbornness."

"As you said, we'll see," Bacco said confidently.

"Yes, we will," Shostakova confided.

---

It took two more days for everyone to assemble in the Genesis sector. Calhoun had contacted his wife and Admiral Shelby had rerouted Captain Kat Mueller and the USS Trident from Thallonian space to Genesis. Dax and the crew of the Aventine were the first to arrive and Calhoun and the Excalibur and Chakotay and Voyager arrived shortly thereafter. Mueller barely arrived ahead of Sela and the remainder of her fleet.

Corvat's ionized atmosphere prevented beaming to the surface so Calhoun and Sela took shuttlecraft to the surface. Sela was accompanied by two other captains, one Gorn and one Tzenkethi. Calhoun only had his pilot.

Sela greeted Macen and Argus, "I understand we have you two to thank for our 'miraculous' rescue."

"I formally request asylum in the Romulan Star Empire," Argus suddenly blurted.

Calhoun's scar turned a deep shade of red. Macen looked rueful but Calhoun noted that he didn't look surprised. He knew the El-Aurian wasn't the type to often be caught unawares.

"Granted," Sela happily proclaimed. She turned to the Federation's representatives, "Any problem with that?"

"Dr. Argus was granted an unconditional pardon," Calhoun stated, "That means she has the right to renounce her UFP citizenship. Truth be told, if she doesn't want to stay, she's more than free to leave."

"Excellent," Sela looked the proverbial cat that'd swallowed the canary, "We're here now so you may begin."

"Taryn, set curse for the primary," Macen instructed.

Argus hesitated and Macen spoke again, "That was the plan, Taryn. Remember?"

"But this is the epitome of my life's work," she bemoaned.

"And you can spend the rest of your life trying to recreate it. That is why you're defecting isn't it?" he dryly inquired.

"Damn you," she muttered and inputted the course and activated the gravitic lens. The holographic plot began to shift as Corvat moved through space as sublight speeds.

"Eric, it's time to pull the plug," Macen cued McMasters.

"It's a good thing life support, heat, and the lights are running off of external batteries," McMasters opined.

"Just kill it," Macen cajoled.

McMasters tinkered with the shroud housing the control matrix. It opened and Sela gasped as the diamond like crystalline matrix was revealed.

"It's beautiful," she commented.

"But oh-so deadly," Calhoun remarked. She shot him a nasty look.

McMasters brought the crystal to a housing set up in the center of the inactive holoplot. Daggit moved forward. He carried a duffel filled with photon charges. McMasters scurried back to the control panel. He began checking controls laid out in a portable computer set up on the floor.

"Diagnostics are good. The portable shield emitter is up and running," he declared.

Daggit attached the charge sand set for maximum yield. He trotted back behind the shield's intended periphery. He nodded to McMasters, he activated the shield. Daggit activated the trigger.

"Good to go on your mark," he told Macen.

"Everyone ready?" Macen asked.

"As we'll ever be," Sela spoke for the Typhon Pact captains.

"Do it," Calhoun instructed.

"You heard the man, Rab," Macen gave the signal.

Daggit blew the crystal into a million shards. Everyone had to wait for their eyes to clear from the flash. Sela turned to Calhoun.

"You won't mind if we stay on station until this planet and everything on it tumble into the star?" she asked.

Calhoun smiled thinly, "Since that will only take another 6 hours, I suppose that's okay."

Sela signaled her fellow commanders and they started for the lift and airlock. Taryn Argus accompanied them. Calhoun called after Sela, "Proconsul, will you require an escort back to your home space?"

Sela offered him a cold smile, "I suppose you're going to insist?"

"You bet your ass," Calhoun remarked.

"Then how can I refuse?" Sela smiled.

Calhoun turned to Macen, "I here you've made good in my absence."

Macen grinned, "Frankly, I was going to say the same about you."

Calhoun snorted, "The Trident and the Excalibur will escort the Typhon forces to the border. Captains Dax and Riker have orders to bring your people and the Endeavor survivors to Earth."

"I'm sure my Captain Riker will enjoy seeing Captain Chakotay again," Macen chuckled.

Calhoun wore the barest of grins, "You've always been a smart ass."

"That's why we compete. I remind you of yourself. The man in the mirror urges you to go that much further," Macen counseled.

"Maybe," Calhoun allowed, "What I do know is that you and your Detective Rockford saved our collective hides. As one hide to another, pass on my thanks to Rockford."

"I'll be sure to do so," Macen promised, "I'll also advise her of how rare an occasion such thanks are."

"Humph!" Calhoun grunted, "Make sure you do."

---

Calhoun returned to his shuttle and the lifted off of Corvat to return to his ship. Macen, McMasters, Daggit, and Grace returned to the Corsair. She lifted the runabout as the Obsidian also lifted from the doomed planet's surface. She docked the support craft in the starship's shuttlebay after they broke orbit.

As predicted, Corvat plummeted into the primary's gravity well within the span of 6 hours. The Typhon Pact fleet departed with their Starfleet escorts in tow. Oddly enough, Sela didn't order her forces to cloak as had been expected. It seemed as though she were proudly showing the flag, but for whom?

The Aventine and Voyager escorted the Obsidian to Earth. They relaxed and traveled at warp 6. News came in from Johnson's task force. The Intrepid, the Defiant, the Hood, the Monitor, and the Merrimack had returned to Bajoran space. There they found that the Enterprise had been directed to lead Home Fleet in a defense of Sector 001.

Picard had achieved one of the few decisive victories of the conflict before the Battle of DS3. Corvat's emergence had redirected all of the Argyn's efforts on the Genesis sector so everyone else had earned a chance to recoup.

But an end of an era had arrived. Picard, having turned down the opportunity to be promoted, opted to retire. But even his retirement would be filled with active service to the Federation. He was entering the Diplomatic Service. He'd already been chosen as the Federation's Ambassador at Large. Replacing Spock in that post, he was the Diplomatic Service's designated crisis manager.

This would allow him a chance to relocate to Earth. His ancestral home was already rebuilt and waiting for him and his family. Beverly Crusher would join him as the Director of Starfleet Medical and together they would raise their young son, Jack.

B4 had been redesignated as Data after his memory reboot had restored Data's consciousness. Restored to his rank of Commander, he was being promoted to Captain and assuming command of the Enterprise. Worf would carry on as his XO. Geordi LaForge was still Chief Engineer but he'd also assume the mantle of 2nd Officer.

The ceremony announcing Picard's appointment led into the celebration over the Federation's peace accord with the Argyn. On the side, a private ceremony was held for the President to present the Medal of Freedom to Rockford.

She slipped the medal over Rockford's head, draping it across her evening gown. Bacco wore a sad smile, "I'm sorry that this has to be a private affair. Your contribution should be a matter for public acclaim and the history books. However, your unique past necessitates a quieter means of celebrating."

"I can tell you that Annika Ryst has received a full pardon, cancelling her warrant on Barrinor. Furthermore all Federation records regarding Annika Ryst and her aliases have been expunged. Individual planets are another matter but for the UFP, Annika Ryst has never existed. You, Celeste Rockford, are the only bearer of the legacy once carried by Annika's various personas," Bacco informed her, "You have been a model citizen and we reward you as one. If fate is kind, you're future will only be better and brighter from here on in."

Rockford beamed, "I think you can count on it, Madame President."

"I'm glad," Bacco confessed.

---

Later, she pulled Macen aside for a quiet chat while the gala continued. She took a sip of her champagne as she studied Macen.

"I have to admit, you're not quite what I expected," she shared.

"I'm happy to disappoint," Macen quipped with smirk.

"Oh, I didn't say I was disappointed," Bacco amended, "I just said you weren't what I expected."

"And what was that?" Macen asked.

"A reckless adventurer," Bacco admitted, "But your actions during the recent conflict saved billions of lives, perhaps even spared us from a generational, genocidal campaign."

Macen didn't respond so Bacco added to her assessment, "Gant Delane said you would make my life easier and harder all at the same time. Usually at the same moment. I can see what he meant."

"And how did I make your life harder?" Macen inquired.

"Corvat could have been studied. It is a convenient tool," Bacco expressed her true thoughts on the matter, "But you insisted upon destroying it."

"That was the arrangement with the Typhon Pact," Macen dryly observed, "They would have started a war over it."

"Oh pishaw!" Bacco literally dismissed the thought with a wave of her hand, "The Typhon Pact could've been talked down and you know it."

"Only by threatening to use it against them," Macen added.

"If need be," Bacco said, "Oh, don't look so surprised. We've just survived the Borg and now the Argyn. How dare we allow the Typhon Pact stand in our way?"

"It seems to me that you had 15 years to study Corvat so that begs the question would we be letting the Typhon Pact stand in our way or yours?" Macen pointedly asked.

Bacco wore a thin smile, "Delane said you'd be trouble. I see what he means. Enjoy your evening, Mr. Macen. I sense you've only just begun to make my life difficult."

"I'm beginning to think that's a good thing, Madame President," Macen confided.

"Good evening then," Bacco strolled off.

Rockford made her approach, "I held back because things looked a tad uncomfortable."

"Maybe. We'll have to see," Macen allowed.

Rockford tugged at his arm and guided him towards the dance floor, "Come on. It's time to forget your worries and dance with me."

Macen grinned, "How could I let the hero of the hour down?"

Rockford snorted, "The hero no one knows about."

"Starfleet knows and I know," Macen consoled her, "I'll make certain you have a celebration worthy of the name."

Rockford smiled brightly, "I knew there was a reason why I loved you."

His eyes twinkled, "You have no idea."

---

Chapter Fifteen

The Obsidian returned to Earth 3 weeks later for Grace and Delaney's wedding. Stryker served as Delaney's best man and Caplan also stood for him. Rhiann stood as Grace's Maid of Honor and Ensign Auray served as a bridesmaid. It seemed odd to some that two Andorians stood for Grace while their government had seceded from the Federation.

This was Auray's last function on Earth before returning to Andoria. She'd resigned her commission in Starfleet to take the helm of one of the Andorian Empire's Ambassador-class heavy cruisers. Her paperwork had cleared just a few days ago and she'd booked a flight home after the wedding.

Rhiann, however, was content to remain with Outbound Ventures and more specifically with the Obsidian. Since Outbound Ventures was a civilian company, her exemption was logged in and recorded. There was some pressure on her to report on the company's dealings and she hadn't decided how to proceed. Chris had informed her that he would happily report on his comrades and had even submitted a letter to Captain Riker stating that he would do so. The matter was now in Riker's hands.

The ceremony went flawlessly. Johnson officiated and happily pronounced them man and wife. The happy couple left the garden and proceeded to the restaurant where the reception was taking place. As the guests were leaving the Palace of Fine Arts, Macen took a wistful look around.

"Sparks ideas, eh?" Rockford teased as she bumped up against him.

"You have no idea," he said, voice laced with emotion.

"Oho, it seems we need to have a little talk. Get me to the restaurant and I'll make sure we get some private time to discuss this," Rockford promised.

Macen bequeathed a warm and tender smile upon her, "You're on."

---

Grace and Delaney had to leave the reception early. They had a flight to Pacifica to catch and they were just barely going to make it.

McKinley and Massoli also conveniently ducked out together. The Intrepid was in an orbital slip above Earth undergoing repairs and her CO decided to scarper off with his Intelligence Officer and head to Risa.

Most of the Intrepid's crew was taking leave time. Caplan and Liefers were headed to Mars to visit her home there and get away from it all. As with others, Delaney's marriage had seeded ideas and Caplan wanted 4 weeks with Liefers all to himself in order to explore the realms of possibilities.

Emily Johnson and Shannon Forger decided to sail around the Med. McMasters hesitantly asked to come along. Forger was surprised.

"I thought you didn't like me," she admitted.

He wore an embarrassed smile, "It wasn't that. Your condition just reminds me of someone."

"Someone good or someone bad?" Forger wanted to know what she was dealing with, "Because we got along just fine before you knew my little 'secret'. In fact, I thought we got along a little more than fine."

"We did...I mean we do," McMasters blurted, "Look, I'll come clean. You're being transsexual reminds me of another woman I knew that also didn't completely transition."

"And you two were close," Forger guessed.

"She was the only woman that ever made me forget about Lisea," McMasters admitted.

Forger whistled, "That is close. So why did that affect how you viewed me?"

"I was having...ideas about where we could go," McMasters confessed, "And then I found out about your condition."

"It's not a 'condition', it's who I am," Forger dryly pointed out.

McMasters' expression turned rueful, "Don't be like that, Shannon. You know what I meant."

"I'm not sure I do," Forger persisted.

"Look, I like you...a lot. I think we could go somewhere," McMasters declared.

"But?" Forger waited for the bomb to be dropped.

"But what?" McMasters wondered.

"But what about the fact that I'm a woman with a penis?" Forger was getting exasperated.

McMasters wore an impish grin, "Frankly I think that's sexy as hell."

Forger grinned, "Oh really?"

"Yeah," he said with conviction.

"Well, Emily said it was my decision whether or not you could come. I'll let you come on one condition," Forger warned.

"And that is?" rather than feel threatened McMasters was mildly amused and intrigued.

"You have to show me just how sexy you think I am," Forger delivered her ultimatum.

McMasters' expression turned lustful, "I think I can oblige."

Forger's smile was decidedly impish, "Then welcome aboard."

---

Tom Riker and Lisea Danan went on vacation to Risa with Chakotay and Annika Hansen. Daggit and Parva took off for Cestus III. Only Macen, Rockford, Radil, and Tessa were the remaining command staff when the Obsidian docked at Serenity Station. Tessa couldn't leave of course or she would have. As it was, Galen 3 stayed aboard so that he and she could enjoy their downtime alone and her new equipment.

Radil joyfully reunited with Kort and the station's CMO decided to take three weeks off so he and Radil could travel to their home on Barrinor. Macen and Rockford caught a ride on the corporate shuttle Radil flew to Barrinor.

It was a momentous occasion for Rockford. It was the first time she'd travelled to Barrinor without fear of discovery. Even if the authorities determined that she'd once been Annika Ryst, they couldn't touch her. Bacco's pardon negated their arrest and detention warrants.

She'd never visited Macen's townhome and she was delighted to discover its eccentricities. There were still a few vestigial reminders of T'Kir. They'd spent nearly 18 years together and that time didn't just disappear because fate had other plans.

They spent 2 weeks lounging and redecorating. Then they appeared at Outbound Ventures Corporate HQ. Kathy Tyrol tried to shanghai Macen but he deftly slipped her grasp and headed for the underground hangar. There the Blackbird-class SS Solstice waited for him.

He'd managed to finagle Kort and Radil's participation in the next little jaunt and they were in the hangar waiting for him. Maintenance engineers were giving Radil a sitrep on the scout's condition.

They were all headed for Caldos II. Elias Vaughn was living there in semi-retirement. He was bunking in Alfonso Reyes' cabin on an island in the middle of one of the northern continent's largest lakes. Reyes had inherited it from his grandfather, the famed and disgraced, former Commodore Diego Reyes.

Kort and Radil were going thrill seeking while Macen and Rockford approached Vaughn. Prynn Tenmei would be there as well while the Defiant underwent repairs. Given her unexpected free time it was only natural that she would seek out her father.

---

The flight to Caldos went without incident. The ship performed with all of the nimble grace that the class was renowned for. Macen had commanded a Blackbird-class during his time with Maquis and shortly after joining the SID. The Odyssey had died an inglorious death. She'd certainly deserved better. The original Solstice had died giving her all for the team. It was only fitting that the very last new construction of the class should bear her name.

Although the Solstice was unique from her predecessors in that she could make terrestrial landings, she remained in orbit as the foursome beamed down to Caldos' largest spaceport. Kort and Radil made their way to their hotel and began to plan their adventures.

Macen and Rockford arranged for transportation to Reyes Island. They took a taxi to the shoreline and hired a captain to take them out. As they left the boat's slip, Macen and Rockford studied the colonial city as they left it. The entire settlement was based upon an idealized image of the Scottish Highlands.

The boat ride took nearly an hour. They came slowly up on the dock built in a little cove. The boat captain and commed ahead and announced his arrival to Vaughn. The Starfleet veteran was at the dock waiting for his visitors.

Vaughn tied off the boat as Macen cast of the line. He and Rockford debarked and Vaughn released the line. The captain was expecting a call in a week to come and get them. He cast off and reversed his engines. Turning around, he throttled the engines and took off for his base.

Vaughn still looked decades younger than his 114 years. He looked a good 40 years younger and had a robust physique to match. Now that his bones had been replaced by polymers his daily workouts no longer cause fractures. Still, he wasn't quite as fit as he'd still been even at age 108.

Both Macen and Rockford noticed this. Macen because he'd been friends with Vaughn for 38 years. Rockford because she and Vaughn had briefly been lovers. Although she'd taken their parting of the ways jovially, she'd been vaguely disappointed since she considered Vaughn a "committed" kind of guy.

"Hello Elias," she said pleasantly.

Vaughn smiled as he met her eyes and held them. His expression faltered, "There's something different about you."

"I'm reintegrated," Rockford explained. She'd described the possibility to him in bed one night.

"Yet you're you," Vaughn surmised, "Where's Annika?"

"She gave her life so I could have mine," Rockford explained.

Vaughn was startled, "You'll have to explain that more thoroughly."

Rockford wore a rueful smile, "Amy chance I can do the explaining indoors?"

Vaughn suddenly broke into a sheepish grin, "Of course. Prynn's dying to see you again. So's Alyssa."

"Alyssa?" Macen repeated.

Vaughn looked pleased with himself as he adopted a Cheshire grin, "I have a few surprises of my own."

"Alyssa" turned out to be one Alyssa Munroe. Special Agent Alyssa Munroe of the Federation Security Service. She was Vaughn's opposite number as he'd shifted to a life as a Security Consultant for Starfleet. She was his live-in lover and 74 years his junior.

"Detective Rockford, Commander Macen, I'm so glad to meet you. I've heard so much about you from Elias," Munroe gushed. She winked at Rockford, "I especially enjoyed the more lurid stories. You loosened him up just the way that I like him."

Rockford was speechless for once and Macen turned to Tenmei, "Hello Prynn. Enjoying your leave?"

Tenmei was only 2 years younger than Munroe but she seemed at ease with his relationship. Vaughn had always favored younger women. He'd been 76 years old when Tenmei was born and her mother had been in her late 30's. Macen had known Tenmei's mother and had mourned her assimilation by the Borg.

Tenmei grinned, "I've discovered that if you take a speedboat fast enough it's a lot like flying."

Vaughn wore a rueful expression, "She's scaring the hell out of the locals."

"So, Detective?" Munroe began.

"Please, I'm just Celeste," Rockford pleaded.

Munroe's eyes sparkled, "So, Celeste, how's it feel to win the Medal of Freedom?"

Vaughn and Tenmei gaped. Tenmei gathered her wits first, "Congrats! Scuttlebutt had it that Admiral Johnson was putting you in for it but it's nearly impossible to get the Federation Council to agree on anything long enough to bestow the medal."

"I think saving civilization as we know it may have played a minor role in their decision," Rockford dryly remarked.

"And she's modest too," Tenmei quipped.

"Why didn't I know anything about this?" Vaughn finally asked.

"Because I didn't want you to know," Munroe declared, "And I swore Prynn to secrecy. This way you can share in your friends' happiness without dissecting the events leading to it to death."

Macen chortled while Rockford smiled brightly, "She does know you, Starfleet."

"In case you haven't noticed, I no longer wear the uniform," Vaughn said defensively.

"Elias, you'll always wear the uniform whether it's actually on your body or not. It's how you carry yourself," Rockford commented.

"I think I've just been insulted," he declared.

Rockford grinned, "Just a little."

Munroe stepped in, "Tell me about yourself, Celeste. I've read the official files of course but they're pretty bland. Elias said you've lived multiple lifetimes. How's that work?"

"Yeah, I'm curious about that myself," Tenmei admitted.

"Show me food and I'll tell you whatever you want to know," Rockford promised.

"Anything?" Munroe asked with an impish twinkle in her eye.

"Anything," Rockford shared conspiratorially.

"Gentlemen, your company has been nice but it's time for you to leave," Munroe commanded.

"Can we at least grab a plate and something to drink?" Vaughn wondered.

"If you must," Munroe said with a longsuffering air.

They gathered a tray and individual plates and went outside. Vaughn and Macen exchanged details of the Argyn conflict and then Vaughn shared an insight, "The Romulans couldn't have mounted a full scale offensive against the Federation. They lost nearly 50% of their forces against the Argyn. The rest of the Typhon Pact faced similar losses. They still haven't matched our transphasic torpedo. But it's merely a matter if time before they do. They have a prototype ready to test."

"And how exactly would you know all of this?" Macen wanted to know.

"Starfleet Intelligence has an asset in the upper hierarchy of the Tal Shiar," Vaughn shared.

"I thought Koval was dead," Macen thought aloud.

"He is. He died in the Hobus Incident with the rest if the Senate," Vaughn informed him.

"Then who is it?" Macen asked.

Vaughn looked decidedly uncomfortable, "I'm not certain you're cleared to know."

"Then why did you bring it up?" Macen asked crossly.

Vaughn weighed his options. Finally he made a decision, "The asset is someone you know."

Macen chewed on that for a moment as he tried to think of who he knew in the Tal Shiar. Only one name came to mind.

"It's P'ris. Isn't it?" Macen demanded to know.

Vaughn slowly nodded, "She approached us while you were confined to Yuros. She wanted to deal with you but you were imprisoned. She finally accepted the fact that I could handle her even more effectively than you could."

"Why are you suddenly telling me this?" Macen had a nasty hunch.

"Because she's missing," Vaughn confirmed Macen's worst fear, "She hasn't reported in for a week now. We fear the worst."

"Where was she last reported to be?" Macen inquired.

"Brin! This is why I'm telling you," Vaughn shared, "You are not authorized to invade Romulan space. And in case you're thinking about mounting a rescue operation as a civilian operator, think about this: you are also a known asset. P'ris has reported on every encounter with you and all of her considerable speculations. The Romulans know who and what you are and they are waiting for you."

"I can't just sit here!" Macen snapped.

"For once in your life that's precisely what you need to do," Vaughn counseled, "If P'ris can get free of the dogs, she's going to head straight for you. So are any Romulans that are assigned to pursue. You need to stand by and give her time to cross the Neutral Zone and navigate across Federation space and handily arrive at that space station of yours. The moment she arrives you need to get on the horn and request Starfleet assistance."

"I need to get back to Serenity," Macen decided.

"Brin, slow down and think about this. P'ris can't have gotten away with anything than a shuttle. Even at a constant max speed of warp 2, it's going to take time to reach the Barrinor system. Given that Romulan drives get just as cranky under stress as Federation warp systems, she's going to have to reduce speed occasionally and will probably have to drop out of warp from time to time," Vaughn reminded his friend, "You came here to relax. I read what you had to do with Corvat and I know that can't have settled well with you. It's time to recoup."

"That's the problem, Elias. It doesn't bother me," Macen revealed.

"Are you certain?" Vaughn asked quietly.

"You're one of the few that's seen my classified psych eval. I had a cause. The Argyn were an obstacle in accomplished that goal so I exterminated them with extreme prejudice," Macen said coldly, "What's probably the worst aspect is that it was easy. Push a holographic control and a ship died. Not just a ship but a living creature that hosted hundreds, possibly thousands, of alien crewmen."

"But you argued against the use of Corvat," Vaughn reminded him.

Macen nodded, "At first. Bob made a convincing argument. He played into my weaknesses so I wiped out over a thousand bioships and their crews. There were no survivors, no prisoners, just a perfect display of power."

"You can't mean that," Vaughn was horrified.

"I can see why my people outlawed such technologies. They're frighteningly seductive," Macen admitted. He paused and then smirked, "Taryn had an orgasm every time we killed a ship."

"Did you?" Vaughn quietly asked.

Macen gave him awry look, "Would I have destroyed it if I had?"

"I guess not," despite his calm statement, Vaughn was visibly relieved.

"Starfleet was always afraid of what would happen if they ever unleashed me," Macen summarized, "They finally have. I wonder what happens next?"

Vaughn didn't know how to reply.

---

Chapter Sixteen

Over the rest of the week, talk inevitably turned to work. Vaughn and Munroe elaborated on a few cases they were working on. Everything nowadays seemed to revolve around the Typhon Pact. Of course, the resurgence of the Andorian Empire also presented some new and unique challenges.

Tenmei shared that the Defiant was staying in Bajoran space to patrol the Wormhole's entrance. Ro would be assuming command of the new Prophet-class Deep Space 9 station when it finished construction. Until then, she was to maintain regular patrols and not only secure the wormhole but also the construction zone. Surviving elements of the 7th Fleet would bolster these efforts. The Cardassians were also stepping up patrols near the border in order to be able to immediately respond to a crisis.

Then Macen was badgered into sharing Outbound Ventures latest contract offerings. He warned them that they wouldn't like it. Leera, the dominatrix of the Orion Syndicate, had offered a substantial contract in exchange for Macen's assistance in crippling the Meirkus Conglomeration.

Vaughn almost dropped his whiskey tumbler and Munroe looked aghast. Rockford gave Macen a wry look, "I told you."

Macen held up a hand to ward off any objections, "The rewards are fairly large. The Syndicate would stop acting as the Typhon Pact's proxy in Federation space."

"But they're criminals," Tenmei blurted.

"And both your father and Alyssa know that sometimes you have to deal with the criminal element. Hell, I have been the criminal element and so has Ro," Macen reminded her.

Tenmei feel silent after the not so subtle chastening. Vaughn spoke before Munroe could, "Still, that warning I gave you about being a known asset applies here as well. Leera and the rest of the Syndicate would see your participation as being Starfleet's tacit consent for their operation."

"Who says Starfleet shouldn't consent?" Macen wondered.

That stirred the metaphorical hornet's nest. Vaughn struggled to control his frustrated anger, "Brin, Starfleet's been opposed to the Orion Syndicate for two centuries. We can't just change our mind and become friends now."

"Why not?" Macen asked.

"Because they break every law we have!" Vaughn snapped.

"But this is outside Federation space. Our laws don't apply," Macen smirked.

"It still boils down to interfering in a foreign culture, which is against the law," Vaughn said between gritted teeth.

"The Meirkus Conglomeration is classified as a criminal organization and is not recognized by the Federation as a legitimate government," Macen pointed out.

Vaughn looked to Munroe, "You straighten him out."

"I can't," she softly admitted.

"Why not?" an exasperated Vaughn demanded.

"Because he's right," she said with an air of resignation, "The Meirkus Conglomeration has no legal standing in the eyes of the Federation. This means they have no legal protections either."

"But the Orions...?" Vaughn trailed off as he began to see the implications.

"The Orion Confederacy is a recognized legal entity. It's an established nation state. The Conglomeration was just a collection of corporate interests operating outside Federation space and regulations. When they devolved into anarchy, the criminal elements took over and reshaped the Conglomeration into its present form," Munroe ran through a brief history of the territory to make her point stick, "At no time did the Federation ever recognize the legitimacy of the Conglomeration or establish diplomatic relations with it. In short, there are no legal constraints to Brin accepting this contract."

Vaughn hung his head, "I can't believe you just said that."

Munroe grinned, "Believe it, Lover, because it's the truth. We may not like the idea and officialdom will certainly balk but there is no legal standing to prevent Brin from accepting this contract."

"You've made your point," Vaughn groaned.

"Actually, I didn't bring up the possibility to browbeat your perceptions of right and wrong," Macen shared, "I was actually looking for advice."

"Say 'no' as soon as you can," Vaughn quipped.

Macen smirked, "Actually, let's assume I've said 'yes' and work from there."

"You haven't, have you?" Vaughn tried not to groan again.

"Not yet. I want to run it by Tom. He has to captain the Obsidian while the team gallivants around so I need his input," Macen admitted.

"Run away. That's all I have to say," Vaughn counseled.

"Thank you," Macen dryly replied, "I'll take that under consideration after I get there."

"I actually have a few ideas," Munroe offered.

"Then please share," Macen requested.

So she did.

---

At the end of the week, Tenmei joined Macen and Rockford for the boat ride back to town. She happily accepted an offer to hop a ride aboard the Solstice. She "paid" for her passage by piloting the scoutship. She was delighted by its performance and admitted that she could now see why Ro was such a fan of the diminutive starships.

Their layover in the Bajor sector was a brief one. Ro came aboard for a few hours and she and Macen discussed the Corvat affair. Vaughn had alerted her to Macen's outlook and she was understandably worried. She'd been an eyewitness to Macen's transformation from an upstanding Starfleet officer to a sometimes radical privateer.

"It will be fine," Macen assured her as they returned to the transporter.

"Are you sure?" Ro asked, gazing deeply into his eyes. She saw a blazing fire there that disturbed her.

"As certain as I can be," he reiterated.

"Don't prove everyone right about you," she cajoled as she stepped up onto the pad.

"When have I ever done that?" he teased, "I'll see you sooner rather than later. By the way, you owe me a tour of your new station when it's finally built."

Ro smiled, "Deal. Do I even have to say, 'take care'?"

"Not really. It's a given," Macen chuckled.

"I'll say it anyway," Ro conceded.

"Same to you," he replied with heartfelt meaning.

He activated the transporter and it returned her to the Defiant. Radil grumbled about having to pilot the Solstice again but she readily broke orbit and plotted a course back to Barrinor. They made the trip in a few hours. Barrinor was located in the neighboring sector after all. They descended into Barrinor's atmosphere and landed at Outbound Ventures' private spaceport. Storing the ship underground again, they switched over to the corporate shuttle they'd left behind and returned to Serenity.

---

Everyone was returning from their vacations and had scads of stories to tell. Grace was the last to return. She was a tad starry eyed from her honeymoon and already missed her absent husband terribly. Delaney and the Intrepid were shipping out to deal with another brush fire so their time together would have been interrupted anyway.

"Have you thought about reactivating your commission and requesting an assignment aboard the Intrepid?" Rockford wondered, "McKinley and Liefers would be drooling over your transfer request."

Grace wore a sad smile, "I can't leave my family. At least not yet."

Rockford nodded with understanding, "As much as I appreciate the sentiment, you're in for some hard, cold, lonely nights."

"Tell me about it," Grace grumped.

"I'll tell you what, Roberta's working today. Why don't we grab some lattes and surprise Brin and Tom?" Rockford suggested.

Grace broke into a genuine smile, "Sounds good. What are they discussing anyway? Did we get a contract offer?"

Rockford grinned, "Let me tell you about it."

---

In the end, Riker agreed to the accepting the contract, "The thought of getting the Syndicate out of the Typhon pact's pocket is too good to pass up."

"That's what I keep telling everyone but Amanda and Alynna are screaming in my ear," Macen grumped.

"Speaking of a Forger, have you noticed the newfound spring in Shannon and Eric's steps?" Riker grinned.

"They didn't?" Macen was honestly surprised. He hadn't seen that one coming.

"They went sailing around the Mediterranean together. Of course Emily Johnson was there to play chaperone but I hear she did a lousy job," Riker chuckled.

"I knew Eric was interested in Shannon. I just didn't think he'd make a move because of Lees," Macen admitted.

Riker groaned, "I know. I have to admit that I'm really excited by this new relationship because it keeps the delusional twit away from my wife."

"It can't be easy having a stalker aboard the ship," Macen agreed.

"And I can't space him because you'll object," Riker complained.

"Possibly. It depends on what he's done," Macen conceded.

"Ops to Commander Macen," Ephrim Zyrain's voice rang over the comm circuit.

Macen and Riker were both surprised. The station's administrator rarely involved himself with Outbound Ventures personnel.

Macen tapped his comm badge, "Macen here. Go ahead, Ephrim."

"Commander, we've received a hail from a ship that's apparently cloaked. It's requesting to dock and the pilot wishes to speak with you," Zyrain explained.

"And the pilot is a female Romulan named P'ris," Macen surmised.

Zyrain was surprised, "Why, yes. How did you know?"

"She's been expected," Macen gave him as much as he needed to know, "Open a runabout landing pad and when she signals you, bring her shuttle into the station. I'll meet her at the airlock in the docking ring. As soon as she signals you, raise shields and go to red alert. Understood?"

"But why?" Zyrain was alarmed.

"Because if she's here the hunters can't be far away," Macen said.

"First the Lantillians and now this," Zyrain huffed, "You said this posting was going to be peaceful. What kind of trouble are you bringing aboard my station?"

"Administrator Zyrain, may I remind you of who owns this station?" Macen crossly asked.

"You do," Zyrain cowed a bit.

"Then I expect you to carry out my instructions or to start preparing your résumé," Macen angrily declared.

"Very well," Zyrain relented, "I'll keep you apprised of our developing situation."

"I expect you shall," Macen acerbically replied.

"You want a detail to go with you?" Riker asked.

"No, go to Ops and hold Zyrain's hand. P'ris probably has a few things to share and she can't do it in front of anybody else," Macen warned.

"And if Romulan Warbirds start decloaking nearby?" Riker wondered.

"Yell for help," Macen instructed as he headed out the door.

---

The circular airlock door looked like a giant gear as it rolled aside. P'ris emerged from the runabout pad. She was rather disheveled but Macen knew that a few days on the run could do that to a person.

"Nice to see you again," Macen quipped.

P'ris ran a hand through her tangled locks, "I know I must look dreadful but do you have to be so amused by my appearance?"

"Somehow I didn't picture our reunion to be your defection," Macen dryly commented.

P'ris wore a wry expression, "Nor would I have chosen it to be. However, these things are as they are. May I come aboard your station?"

"I may own the station but one Ephrim Zyrain is its administrator," Macen mused.

"A horrible little man," P'ris vented, "How did he assume command?"

"This isn't a military outpost," Macen reminded her, "Typically the hardest thing about his job is getting 48 freighters docked at 36 ports."

She pursed her lips, "Not the sort of individual I would have in authority when my pursuers arrive."

"Well, Tom Riker is bracing Zyrain's backbone right now. How many are after you?" Macen inquired.

"At least 3 and possibly more," P'ris shared.

"Riker to Macen," came the comm call everyone was expecting.

"I take it our Romulan friends have arrived," Macen ruefully commented.

"Yep. 3 Warbirds have decloaked. I'd bet there are more of them out there though," Riker ventured.

"That's our guest's best guess as well," Macen replied.

"Mind stepping up to Ops?" Riker wondered, "They only want to talk to you."

"Why's everyone want to talk to me?" Macen griped.

"I don't know. Just don't let it go to your head. Pride goeth before a fall and all that," Riker warned.

"Yeah, yeah. We're on our way," Macen informed him.

---

Macen and P'ris ran into Rockford and Grace as they headed to the turbolift for Ops. Rockford wore a bemused expression, "You must be the infamous Commander P'ris."

"I was. Now I am simply a civilian patriot," P'ris stated, "Although we have never met, your reputation does precede you Detective Rockford."

Rockford smirked, "Call me Celeste. I have feeling we're going to be seeing a lot of each other."

P'ris was uncertain how to respond, "I suppose you could be right."

"I am, trust me. My instincts are rarely wrong," Rockford assured her.

P'ris sensed a veiled warning hidden amongst the banter, "I see. I shall endeavor to spare you any offense then."

"I really doubt that," Rockford admitted.

"We really need to get going," Macen reminded them.

"Nice meeting you," Rockford called after them.

---

P'ris was totally unnerved by the time they reached Ops. "Unnerved" was a good descriptor for ht general feeling in the Operations center. They'd drilled with their weapons facing theoretical threats. Now shields were up, phasers were charged, and the photon launchers were armed. All because of 3 very real Warbirds really threatening to destroy the station.

"Give me a sitrep," Macen barked as he rounded the Operations control panels.

"Commander, they insisted on speaking with you as soon as you'd arrived," Zyrain spoke first.

Macen gave him a scathing glare, "I'll touch bases with the enemy as soon as I know our status and the likelihood of relief forces arriving."

"All defensive systems are running 'hot'," Riker informed him, "The USS Burnett was on patrol nearby and her ETA is 15 minutes. Starfleet dispatched the Defiant and she'll be here in 2 hours."

"What about the 9th Fleet? Isn't the Burnett attached to it?" Macen sought clarification.

"The Burnett is TDY with the 9th. She's a Cheyenne-class operating as Barrinor's ready response patrol while the 9th patrols the Breen border. The Breen have deployed a fleet along the border and are running exercises. Or at least they're claiming they're exercises," Riker reported.

"Or they're a mighty convenient distraction to keep the closest fleet busy. And with the 7th comprised of so many fragments, that leaves us woefully unprotected," Macen realized.

"That pretty much sums it up," Riker said grimly.

"Okay, let's actually talk to the buggers," Macen decided.

He assumed position before the viewer pick up and had the comm activated. A very put out looking female Romulan Commander appeared. She wore the traditional box-like haircut favored by Orthodox Romulans. P'ris had always been an exception of that rule. She'd been tolerated because of her penchant for results.

"I am Commander Donetella. You have a traitor to the Romulan Star Empire aboard your station. We demand that you surrender her to us," she haughtily declared.

"And if I refuse?" Macen knew the answer but the question had to be asked.

"Then we destroy you," Donetella said with a predatory smile.