Special Investigations Division 10: Relics

by Loki's Son

The answer to a current threat to the Alpha Quadrant may be found in the ancient ruins of a collapsed empire. Both the Romulan Star Empire and the Federation are seeking these answers. One of these powers must unlock the secrets buried in the past in order to fend off the Omicron before they arise to conquer the galaxy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or its related properties. All such rights and considerations belong to CBS/Paramount.

This is the tenth installment of the Special Investigations Division. I hope you enjoy for more is on the way.

---

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

The George Kelly shuddered as multiple phaser wounds scored her hull. On the bridge, the surviving crewmen were desperately struggling to keep the ship alive. The centre of this effort was the Kelly's CO, Tom Riker.

"Engineering when can you give me shields?" Riker demanded into the intercom.

"When hell freezes over." Came the engineer's terse reply, "We just lost auxiliary power. That means we've lost weapons. All we have is the batteries. Captain, we're dead in space."

"No!" Riker snarled, "Restore auxiliary power and get me some phaser power."

"Captain," came a calmer voice, that of the ship's XO. She approached Riker gently, "We're outnumbered and outgunned. We've done all we can. Now its time to think of the crew."

"The crew wants to fight." Riker protested.

"Sir, the crew wants to live." she argued, "Which isn't going to happen if we make a false stand. Order a ship wide evacuation and scuttle the ship."

Riker looked at her as though she were mad. Another phaser strike brought down sections of the bridge's "ceiling". Fortunately no one was underneath when the support strut collapsed. Riker shook his head.

He toggled the intercom, "All hands abandon ship. XO, help me activate the scuttling charges."

"If the computer still works." she muttered.

It turned out that it did and the two officers easily activated the destruct sequence.

"Better get to your escape pod." Riker suggested.

"I'll go when you do," she countered.

Riker took one last look at his first legitimate command. It was in pieces and on fire. It needed to be abandoned. He ejected the ship's log then followed his XO to the escape pods. They easily fit together in the pod and she keyed the activation sequence. The pod's hatch closed and then it lurched away from the mothership. Gravity faded and the pair had to strap into crash harnesses.

"I hate flying these things." The XO admitted.

"Never had the opportunity before." Riker admitted.

"Lucky you." the XO deftly piloted the pod a safe distance from the imminently exploding ship and waited with a cluster of other pods. The raiders were breaking off, seeing that the crew had abandoned ship. A shuttle dispatched by the raider's mothership approached one of the Kelly's docking collars. It established a hard dock when the Kelly began to explode. The shuttle was destroyed as the saucer section erupted in a miasma of destruction. Within minutes, the Newton-class ship no longer existed.

Riker watched this all and sunk his head against the escape pod's viewport. The XO offered consoling words but they fell on deaf years. The raiders came about and went to prey on the convoy the Kelly had been protecting. His failure was complete.

---

Hal Dracas showed his lover Kiv Rever around his flat in Earth's famed Soho District.

"How can you afford this?" Rever asked, "And don't give me any crap about the Federation being a moneyless economy. Money still talks and this place practically screams it."

"I was well paid while I was with Outbound Ventures. My credit listing as a Starfleet officer will barely cover the uptake but who needs non-replicated food, right?"

"Wait a minute, you want to run that by me again?"

"This is ours. You return to Earth every three weeks. I work three-week shifts and get a week off. The beauty of being a Master Chief in a shipyard is that I get to set my own schedule. We can take our week off together."

"Wait a minute, you quit Outbound Ventures and rejoined Starfleet?" Rever asked in a stunned voice.

"Yes," Dracas confirmed, "I've been on medical leave for the last three months getting used to my biosynthetics. The optional time-date display in the eye took some getting used to put its proving pretty handy. You call it up and presto you know what day it is and what time it is for any time zone you're in."

"Oh god, how could you do this?" Rever wailed.

"I did it for us." Dracas confessed, "Well I did it for me but you were an important part of the equation."

"Hal," Rever sighed, "You didn't know this yet but Solarian Security Systems put me on retainer to learn all I could about Outbound Ventures. I figured since my boyfriend worked for them, I'd get all sorts of info during our more intimate moments."

The Trill ran his hands through his hair and fretted, "I already spent their deposit. I have no idea how I'm going to repay them."

"I…" Dracas hesitated, "I could give you all the publicly available information as well as insights intro the ships and crews. Nothing confidential but something beyond what's offered in the brochures. Of course my info is three months out of date but I've still got ties with the company. I'm sure I could catch you up on the latest events and gossip."

"Hal, you're a lifesaver!" Rever beamed.

"So what do you think of my plans for this apartment?" Dracas asked.

"I think it's perfect." Rever replied, "I think you're perfect."

"I try." Dracas joked.

"Have I told you how much I missed you?"

"No," Dracas said theatrically, "you haven't."

"Let's rectify that situation."

---

Brin Macen and T'Kir slowly danced together. It was a simple four-step routine but they were mostly swaying against each other. They were located in a boarding house in Mackenzie, Barrinor's northernmost settled state. T'Kir unconventionally wore a thick linen dress. Macen wore a sweater and jeans. The rest of the patrons had retired long ago, allowing the couple their privacy.

Macen stood at 1.84 metres. He was red haired with a moustache and goatee. His features were unremarkable and aided in his chosen profession as an intelligence officer. His one stand out features was his blue eyes that shifted colour with whatever shade he wore. Recent years of intensive workouts had produced a lean and muscular body.

T'Kir was a Vulcan, with the delicately upswept ears that implied. She wore her raven hair below her collarbone. She generally pinned it back to reveal her ears. Her sapphire blue eyes captured the attention of all who gazed upon her. These were coupled by a pale olive complexion that was the envy of most of Earth's natives. Her upturned nose and full, "bee stung" lips completed her look. She stood at 1,72 metres and possessed a slender, voluptuous body with the musculature born of being raised on a high gravity world.

Macen's comm badge, located on their dining table, began chiming.

"No." T'Kir protested, "You promised me a romantic week-end getaway. My week-end lasts for another four hours."

"I told the office to only call me in case of an emergency."

"Who's even in the office this late at night?"

"Time differential, it's only seven in the evening there."

"Tell them to go home, they're ruining my perfect week-end."

Macen tapped the badge, "Macen here."

"Brin, thank god." Christine Pike, the General Business Manager of Outbound Ventures spoke over the line, "We've got a situation."

"I assumed as much Christine." Macen replied dryly, "Why don't you run it by me."

"We've lost the George Kelly. She abandoned ship and scuttled."

"What about the crew?"

"Picked up by the merchant freighters they were supposed to be defending."

"And Riker?"

"Alive. He's already filed a preliminary report. Superior numbers and firepower overwhelmed them. The ship's log was recovered intact. It can be reviewed once it's returned to the company labs."

"We'll be flying back tomorrow. Keep me posted to any changing developments."

"The client's impressed. They say that even though their freighters were hit, the Kelly's tenacity has proven to them that we're the company to contract with on a permanent basis."

"Well, at least something good came out of this. Is there a casualty list?"

"Too early to tell. The survivors are spread out among six freighters."

"Understood. Macen out."

Macen turned to T'Kir, "I suppose you overheard everything?"

She shrugged, "It's the ears. They pick up on everything."

"Everything your telepathy misses, that is."

"No fair. You know I can't read you unless you let me."

"So, you want to finish our dance?"

"I thought we'd be packing up and rushing off for Outbound Ventures headquarters."

Macen shrugged, "Not much we could do there, and our flight isn't booked until morning. I say we finish our last evening her with panache."

"Anything t'get your arms wrapped around me again." T'Kir admitted.

"Your wish is my command." Macen bowed.

"Don't push it too far." T'Kir warned, "I could get used t'this."

---

One of Outbound Ventures; mainstay contracts came from Starfleet's Special Investigations Division. Macen's ship, the Obsidian, and crew were the designated contractors. Macen's senior staff also comprised the SID Investigative Team. As Macen and T'Kir arrived at Outbound Ventures, the rest of the crew was assembled there.

Surprisingly, it was Hannah Grace that first approached the couple to express concern for Tom Riker. Before Grace's "outing" as a Kelvan, Grace had altered Riker's memory. Once that had been revealed to him, there had been bad blood between them. Now she'd been stripped of her Kelvan technology and was "merely" a human woman…with enhanced hand/eye co-ordination, strength and memory.

She was still rebuilding her relationship with the crew. Her earlier attempt to hold them hostage and hijack the ship had almost been forgotten by some and inched ever so much closer to forgiveness amongst the rest. Her natural affability went a long way in her efforts at regaining trust.

The blonde with huge brown eyes would never be described as beautiful, cute yes, she was running out of her ears with cute. Over the last four years, Grace had learned to parlay her looks and to entice members of the opposite sex into relationships. So far none of them had lasted beyond a few months but her taste in men was becoming more selective. Perhaps the next one would be the one to go the distance.

Daggit and Parva made up the next couple to await news. Rab Daggit was an Angosian super soldier, physiologically and psychologically conditioned for combat. His body was a rippling mass of muscle that should have been carved out of marble. Parva was an ex-Orion slave girl, with all the baggage that implied. Having gone from being a sex toy to a respected engineer had been the major accomplishment in her life.

Daggit looked as though he were hewn from stone. Parva could have been a runway model on any of a dozen urbane worlds. Her one foible was bleaching a strand of her hair platinum blonde. Theirs was a special relationship with many allowances.

Radil and Kort came up next. There's was a volatile relationship, always off and on. Judging from their relative distance from each other now was an "off" phase. Radil Jenrya was a Bajoran who'd been a mercenary in the employ of the Orion Syndicate. Accidentally "recruited" by Daggit, Radil was left with a bounty on her head.

Opting that joining the SID was better than facing every bounty hunter in the quadrant, Radil through in her lot with the motley Investigative Team. She now served as the Chief of Security aboard Macen's ship, the Obsidian.

Kort was a Klingon physician. It had taken him decades, and a battle with alcoholism, to accept his role. Now he was a surprising source of sage advice. Still a warrior at heart, Kort revelled in away missions.

Last was Lisea Danan. The Trill scientist often seemed the odd man out in the team. Although her skills, when utilised, proved invaluable. The crew's latest mission to uncover a money laundering scheme had been solved through Danan's insights. The apprehension of the ringleader had been comical.

The minor criminal had threatened Macen. Macen calmly walked up very close to the ringleader and spoke in hushed tones.

"Can you hear me? Good. I've faced off against Daveed B'nner, the Orion Syndicates Don for the Alpha Quadrant. What makes you think I'll even sweat a threat from a gnat like you?" The ringleader had been taken away, bawling like a small child.

Of anyone on the team, Danan had grown the closest to Riker. She'd been a constant source of comfort after they death of his fiancé, Jamie Kirk. Since then they'd discussed his hopes and aspirations towards his gaining his own command. She'd received her last letter from him a week before the incident.

---

Macen and T'Kir had received a padd via a courier service before board their flight back to the southern climes of Barrinor City. T'Kir had shed her linens for a short tank top, Capri pants and sandals. All of her tattoos were in full glory, drawing stares from her crewmates.

Macen was in his usual "uniform". Black cargo pants, black combat boots. A holster/utility belt was worn upon the waist. A charcoal grey tee shirt and his comm badge affixed to his holster.

The dress code aboard the Obsidian was fairly lax. Crewmen could wear what they wanted. It just so happened that the Engineering, Science, and Medical crew preferred colour coded coveralls. That left the Investigative team free to wear what they wanted.

Security wore the M.A.C.O. uniform of the Earth Starfleet. Daggit had shifted to the Starfleet battledress uniform of the 2280's to the 2340's. The rest, like Macen, had found a particular niche to become their individualised uniform. Then there was T'Kir, who wore what she wanted on any given day.

The one inviolate rule was that the Investigative team go armed at all times. The holsters contained surplus Bajoran Militia phasers and the utility belts contained surplus Bajoran tricorders. Since Bajor's alliance with the Federation and eventual admission, the quality of their military equipment now rivalled Starfleet's.

"All I can tell you," Macen raised his voice to be heard over the clamour "is that Tom, and the bulk of the Kelly's crew are alive and well. They're currently on Mephistos VII and are booking passage back to Barrinor. Since passenger slots are at a premium on a freighter, it's taking some time to secure passage for the crew. Tom's chartering several shuttles but even that won't solve the problems."

"I didn't realise the operating budget of the George Kelly was so large." Daggit remarked.

"It isn't." Macen explained, "Outbound Ventures is covering these costs as well as any medical expenses. We take care of our own people. Never forget that."

There was a rustle of satisfaction at that and Macen continued, "It'll take at least a week for the first of the survivors to reach here. I suggest you enjoy what's left of your leave time and come back in a week, when there's more news."

There were nods of assent and the crowd dispersed. T'Kir gave Macen a wry smile, "Everyone gets leave but us?"

"We have to authorise all these funds transfers, then we're free." he assured her.

"Good, I want t'do some shopping." T'Kir missed Macen's eye roll.

---

They'd almost finished with their accounting when Christine Pike called again, this time wearing her Special Investigations Division liaison hat, "Sorry guys but Admiral Drake is on the line."

"Patch her through." Macen almost kept the disappointment from his voice.

Amanda Drake appeared on the screen, the living embodiment of her younger sister, the Obsidian's XO, "Hello Brin, T'Kir, I hope I haven't caught you at a bad time?"

"Actually, you have. We've just received word of the destruction of the George Kelly."

"Wasn't that Riker's ship?"

Macen nodded and Drake sighed, "He'll be taking it hard. Its always tough too lose a command but it's especially hard after just assuming the top job."

"I'll give him you condolences, Amanda." Macen assured her, "Now I'm sure this isn't a social call, what's up?"

"Have you ever heard of Harbinger?"

"Not outside of mythological circles."

"This would be in archaeological circles. Harbinger is a fringe world inside the former Iconian Empire."

That surprised Macen, "What does this have to do with the SID?"

"Harbinger is clearly on our side of the Neutral Zone, unlike the Iconian core worlds. Two days ago, the dig's team leader reported a significant find. Today a Romulan Warbird, claiming freedom of scientific inquiry as due our treaty stipulations, made orbit around Harbinger and began beaming down an archaeological team of their own."

Drake paused then added, "The team is under the command of Commander P'ris."

Macen wore a wry grin, "Everyone's favourite Tal Shiar agent. An archaeological dig seems an odd place to find her."

"Which is why I want you there. With your background on history, sociology and archaeology, you might even prove useful to the dig."

"Gee, thanks."

"So, when can you set out?"

Macen shook his head, "Not until Riker is debriefed."

"When's he coming in?"

"Inside of a week."

Drake looked nonplussed, "A week? A week. Oh, hell. I suppose the Romulans can't crack a 90,000 years old mystery in a week. Get Riker back and then get underway."

"You've got it." Macen replied cheerily and the connection went dead.

---

Riker boarded the shuttle. He'd been the last to leave. He'd made certain all of his people were situated first. As he walked up the passenger aisle, he patted a shoulder here, squeezed a hand there. He eventually plopped down next to Karisma Ko'rentz, his XO.

"Rough coupla days, eh Skip?"

"I've had better." Riker leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

"I've been aboard three ships that have been lost. You handled yourself better than most. My first skipper just sat around blathering to himself in ancient Vulcan." Ko'rentz relayed, "Where in the hell he'd learned ancient Vulcan, no one could figure out."

"I also have to say Outbound Ventures is treating us like royalty." she opined, "Solarian Security Systems would have left us hanging out to dry."

"Yeah, Brin is being really generous." Riker commented, "But he usually is."

---

With only a day remaining to the first arrivals from the Kelly, the Obsidian's Investigative team was rediscovering an old sport: two person beach volleyball. So far, after beating the initial court champions, Macen and T'Kir were taking all comers.

Kort and Radil had already been sent to the sideline. Shannon Forger and Grace had likewise been ousted off the sand. Danan was content to sit under her sunbonnet and watch. She'd recently reverted her hair to its natural chestnut colour, accentuating her species' body spots.

Now it was up to Daggit and Parva to salvage the dignity of the crew. Admittedly, there'd been cause for distraction early on with T'Kir's bikini revealing all of her body art. Macen's shirtless condition revealed the Seeker of Truth sigil etched into his right shoulder blade. Daggit wore a Speedo and Parva wore strings with gland problems. Distractions were abounding. The assembling crowd had thrilled at the earlier action and sensed an oncoming clash of titans.

Macen had first serve. His serve sailed mere millimetres above the net. Daggit scooped low and returned the ball to the other half of the court. T'Kir caught the ball with her forearms. Macen set the ball and T'Kir vaulted for a spike directly into Parva's face. Parva picked herself up out if the sand with an expression that promised vengeance.

Daggit and Parva gained control of the ball on the next volley. A point followed, followed by another. A turnover came next, restoring control to T'Kir. T'Kir varied between wicked cuts and spins and straight on powerhouse serves millimetres above the net.

Grace and Forger saddled up to Danan, Grace leaned over and asked, "Whom are you calling to win?"

"Brin and T'Kir."

"They've three games under their belt. Daggit and Parva are fresh. Besides that, Parva's from a high grav world and Daggit's built like a Greek god." Forger protested.

"You're forgetting that T'Kir's also from a higher gravity world. Brin's musculature while not as bulky as Rab's is leaner and designed for endurance. The most important contest, however, is being played out in the mind. Notice that neither Macen nor T'Kir have spoken once during these matches yet their movements are uncannily precise and measured "

"I'll be damned." Forger suddenly grasped it, "They're using telepathy to plan their attacks."

"To plan every aspect of their game without having to give any of it away." Danan allowed herself a small smile, "One advantage of an empath marrying a telepath I suppose."

"Why does T'Kir have a tattoo of the Romulan's Imperial sigil, the bird holding the two worlds, on her lower back?"

"I'd guess that it, like the Vulcan IDIC on her arm signifies that she's from two worlds." Danan answered, "I think you can guess the significance of the Maquis Command emblem on her ankle."

"Not to get too nosy…" Grace began.

"Yes, you are." Danan replied sagely.

"When you two were…y'know, together, did he have that symbol on his back?"

Danan nodded, "Yes, he did."

"Did he explain its significance?"

Danan pondered that for a moment and finally replied with, "He said the explanation would be far more perilous than the question."

"Do you think he's explaining it to T'Kir."

"I have no idea." Danan replied with a pang of regret.

---

The game was settling into a grudge match. Macen and T'Kir won the first set. Daggit and Parva took the second. The third, and final, match had reached game point several times but had been halted by forced and unforced errors.

It was match point to Macen and T'Kir. It seemed fatigue had at long last begun to overcome the duo. T'Kir served. Daggit spiked it from the backfield. Macen volleyed it and immediately began to run behind T'Kir. T'Kir did a reverse set and cleared her way to the backfield. Macen tapped it over the net and Parva, expecting a spike, was too far back to intercept the ball. The game, at long last, was over.

Both sides congratulated the other and Macen and T'Kir sat out. Daggit, Parva, Radil and Kort played again. Macen opened a bottle of nutrition and flavour infused water, as did T'Kir and they sat down on the opposite side of Danan. Forger and Grace still sat to her right.

"Some set of games." Macen said, winded. T'Kir was fine, thanks to the thinner atmosphere of her homeworld. She'd once described her first experience on an oxygen rich world as a week of being constantly drunk.

"These sceptics doubted as to whether or not you could beat the 'Greek god' and 'Parva the Warrior Princess'." Danan remarked.

"I take it you weren't among these disloyal doubters?" Macen quipped.

"It helped that I figured out your edge."

Macen grinned like a little boy and T'Kir gloated, "If you've got it, use it. We certainly thumped the lot o' you." She flashed a victorious smile at Forger and Grace.

Although the crew was used to it, most people found the thought of a passionate Vulcan disconcerting given their past and the history of their cousins, the Romulans. T'Kir herself had been born on a colony populated by free expressionist Vulcans and Romulan defectors. After its inclusion in the DMZ, the colonists had been massacred by the Cardassians, hence T'Kir's enlistment in the Maquis.

That was where she'd met Macen. Macen was a Starfleet Intelligence operative with extensive contacts in the DMZ. What Starfleet hadn't counted on was Macen's sense of loyalty towards the colonists. He became a double agent, serving both Starfleet and the Maquis.

His first act for the Maquis was assembling an Intelligence task force. T'Kir had been assigned to Macen by Ro Laren. There was an instant connection that lasted twelve years before their marriage. Since Macen was an El-Aurian, it was likely he would outlive his long-lived bride.

After the crew had finished with the volleyball, showered and changed into less revealing clothing, they separated. Daggit, Kort, Parva and Radil sought out a dom-jot parlour. The others sought out a club featuring a talented, local musician.

---

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Ezexial, the Omicron Subversive Coordinator holographically stood before an assembled throng of just over two hundred of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants disaffected. Ezexial had spent years cultivating relationships with these men and women. He spoke only to the leaders; their followers could receive a filtered version from their commanders. Represented groups included the reborn Maquis, the ultranationalistic Romulan Imperium, and several Romulan subject worlds seeking their independence. A dozen Klingon worlds were represented. These stemmed from seekers of the "Old Empire" to revolting subject worlds. With Omicron assistance, all of these groups had lashed out against their home governments. Also gathered were the Tholian leader and the Gorn Alpha. Both were tired of being marginalized in the greater scheme of things. Both had recently launched attacks against the Federation and the Klingons.

In advance of the expected reprisals, the Omicron had divided their fleet and dispersed it across the stars. The unexpected Omicron presence had caught the various fleets unawares. Each had been delivered a stunning defeat. Now it was time for Ezexial to harden the resolve of the Omicron "allies".

"My brothers, now the die is truly cast." the two metre tall alien's image loomed over most of the humanoids and non-humanoids receiving this message, "You cast the first lot and awakened the enemy's ire. Our allied forces have stymied their initial response but we are too few in number to protect you all. We can stem the tide but the armadas being amassed against you now will easily overwhelm our forces. We will make an accounting of ourselves to be sure but the bulk of the vessels will slip by us."

"This means you have a choice to make, do you harden your resolve and fight to the bitter end, supported by us or do you seek an accommodation? We have told a new solar wind is sweeping the galaxy. That wind is here and we can best serve you by removing one of your major foes at a time. We have selected the United Federation of Planets to be first since they are the largest and their defeat will demoralise the rest. A resurrected order is coming to the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. There is only one question: who do you stand with?"

---

Macen and T'Kir entered the office the next morning normally attired. T'Kir wore leather pants, a red tank top and a leather duster. Both were armed. Macen's only variation was a sage Henley instead of the tee.

Pike met them at the door, "Here's the latest stack of reports. The Grand Lady herself is holding."

Macen activated the monitor and T'Kir sat on the edge of his desk. Drake's worried face appeared, "Have you read the reports?"

"Amanda, I just walked in the front door. I haven't even had my first cup of coffee yet."

"He lies." T'Kir piped up, "He had two cups at home."

"You do know of the truth behind 'Dead Men Tell No Tales'?"

"This is no time to banter." Drake snapped, "The Gorn and the Tholians launched a joint, mark my words: joint, incursion into Federation and Klingon space. The 2nd Fleet and the Klingon's 54th Battle Squadron were on hand but they got swatted like bugs by Omicron cruisers. The Romulans lost two fleets and the Cardassians lost the entire 9th Order! We've been given notice folks and the picture doesn't look pretty."

"How large were the Omicron battle groups?" Macen asked.

"Uniformly six cruisers for each of the major powers, one or two for the almost two hundred lesser powers that are screaming for help." Drake described.

"That was probably the extent of their forces." Macen observed.

"But we can't be certain."

"Sure we can." Macen countered, "None of us know where their homeworld is located and indications are that none of their proxies know either. They could afford to leave the home system undefended."

Drake shook her head, "You may be right but the Group of Five and Starfleet Operations are planning for the worst. I need you to depart for Harbinger immediately."

"Riker's coming in today." Macen informed her, "What's the rush?"

"The team leader, a Lt. Commander Dorik has found what may be a Rosetta stone for Omicron."

"Really?" Macen was surprised.

"He's found an obelisk written in four languages. In Iconian, it warns of a tall black, stone-like leathery beings who wish to own the stars."

"Seems rather ironic coming from the Iconians." Macen mused.

Drake ignored him, "Apparently the Iconians and a coalition of other great neo-empires overthrew Omicron rule 100,000 years ago."

"And promptly went on to repeat the same mistakes." Macen quipped.

Drake pinched the bridge of her nose, "You make it sooo difficult."

Macen grinned, "I do. I really do."

"Worst of all," T'Kir chimed in, "he's proud of it."

"Regardless of the Iconians' own history, we finally have a link to them."

"So why involve me, other than to annoy P'ris?"

"The obelisk is written in four languages. We only know one. We were hoping your magic little database might shed some clues as to the others."

Macen's database was a collection of sociological, anthropological, and archaeological information spanning the Delta, Beta and Alpha Quadrants. Living for over four hundred years thus far had allowed him to be well travelled. The physical database was safeguarded on Earth with its translation ciphers. Macen always downloaded a copy of the database into the central computer of any ship he served aboard or commanded.

"As soon as I've finished with Tom, I'll set out. The crew recall went out yesterday and the rest of the Investigative team is already aboard." Macen informed Drake, "Tom's shuttle is due to land in two hours. Our interview is mostly pro forma. His initial reports laid out the situation well enough to establish a lack of culpability on his part. T'Kir and I have just have to sign off on the matter as the owner/operators of the business."

"Good luck and Godspeed." Drake intoned, "Give Tom my best but we really need you out on Harbinger post haste."

---

Riker looked pale, worn and haggard. Macen telepathically queried T'Kir as to how much sleep the other captain had had over the last week and a half. She replied with, Not much. He's running on fumes. He's also got a lot on his mind.

Like what? he mentally wondered.

You'd best hear it from him. She thoughtcast.

"Have a seat, Tom." Macen said as an aide ushered him into Macen and T'Kir's joint office. Riker hesitated and Macen made it an order, "Sit before you fall over."

Riker flopped onto the couch, wearing the weight of the world. Macen reviewed one of the reports Riker had filed and looked across the desk at T'Kir, who was curled up in a nearby chair. She raised her eyebrows but remained silent.

"This is strictly a formality, Tom." Macen began, "Your reports, and those of your subordinates, were quite concise. They laid the situation out clearly. You're not at fault. You were simply outmatched by superior numbers. The client's so pleased they've signed an exclusive convoy protection package and asked for you as soon as you have a new ship."

"Speaking of which, I've contacted the SPYards and they have a Q-ship nearing completion. Full military armaments, sensors and shielding based on a civilian platform. That should confuse the opposition. It'll be ready in five months. You're crew will go on half pay in the interim. The Starfleet Corps of Engineers are building an auxiliary repair yard here at Barrinor for Outbound Ventures. Some of your crew can assist with the construction and earn their full pay that way."

"I don't want it." Riker said as if from a daze.

"Excuse me?" Macen tried to clarify.

"I don't want the ship." Riker said more firmly, "I've had three commands and lost them all."

"I don't think the Defiant counts as a loss." Macen argued.

"Semantics." Riker countered, "The plain truth is I'm, not ready for my own command."

"Tom, I've lost three ships and a runabout. Do you see me quitting? I offered you that command because I thought you were ready. Your handling of the post action situation justified my faith in you. I still think you're ready for this command."

"I don't." Riker said defiantly.

"Here's a compromise, give it five months and see how things stand then." Macen then added, "The ship hasn't even been commissioned yet. You'd get to name her."

"The Jamie Kirk." Riker brightened, "All right all this enthusiasm and optimism is infecting me. I'll give this new ship a shot. The question is: what do I do for the next five months?"

"Look after your crew. See how many of them want to stay on." Macen suggested, "Then get on the horn and learn everything you can about your new ship"

"What can you tell me about it?"

"It's the same hull design of the ill fated Raven." since the return of the Voyager everyone knew of the Raven, her fate and her ship class, "The bridge design is copied from the Defiant-class."

Riker nodded, "Sounds good, but what about my immediate future?"

"What d'you mean?" T'Kir interjected.

"My immediate future, while all of this is occurring. I don't plan on sitting on my butt and moping over the loss of another ship."

"What did you have in mind?" Macen asked.

"Do you have any openings aboard the Obsidian?"

Macen leaned back and shook his head, "This is a bad idea."

"C'mon," Riker protested, "I'll scrub plasma conduits. Anything."

Macen started to argue but T'Kir cut him off, "Brin, we were looking for an interim 2nd Officer to command the Gamma shift while we sort through résumés for a permanent replacement."

Macen shot T'Kir a venomous glare while Riker pounced upon her words, "2nd Officer, eh? I'll do it."

"This won't be the same as a solo command, Tom. You'll be under Shannon Forger, who happens to have your old job. Can you handle that?"

"Anything beats staying at home reliving losing my last tangible link with Jamie."

Ah ha, Macen thought and T'Kir nodded, now we get to the heart of the matter.

"Tom, the George Kelly was a ship. Nothing more, nothing less. It wasn't an avatar of Jamie nor was it a channel to her essence. You're that channel. She invested her life in you. Don't make her investment a vain one. Accept this new command and become the man she knew you are."

"You don't fight fair." Riker said in a subdued voice.

"But have I lied or exaggerated?"

"No." Riker said in resignation, "You haven't. All right. But Jamie loved me for who I am, whether or not that was as captain of my own ship or not. What she valued above all else was loyalty to friends."

"Which still leaves us looking for a permanent replacement for Shannon." T'Kir pointed out.

"Admiral Drake has a new second coming up the pipeline. Until then, Gilrooney can keep filling in."

"She'll be pissed when she doesn't get it herself." T'Kir warned.

"She's the Gamma Shift OPS officer, you'd think she'd be happy to discharge the responsibilities."

"Wait a sec," Riker interrupted, "a Gamma Shift OPS Officer?"

"Every position but Science and Engineering are filled during the Gamma Shift now. Rhiann is still the CONN officer." Shervarhia'annderi, "Rhiann" for short, was the Andorian second shift pilot. A relief pilot, Ceryx, had also been hired to supplement Grace and Rhiann. Since Tyrokians only required three hours of sleep, he was available virtually 24 hours a day

"Things are always changing." Macen said philosophically, "You of all people should realise that."

"Yeah." Riker stroked his beard, "I guess I should."

"I'd say our business here is done." T'Kir announced, "You'd better get your gear ready and get aboard the Obsidian." She turned to Macen, "Get us the hell out of here and on our way to Harbinger."

"Harbinger?" Riker asked.

"SID business." Macen explained, "Sorry Tom. You'll have to wait for the team briefing."

Riker hesitated and Macen told him, "Ardra will see you out."

Macen buzzed his aide and she promptly appeared at the door. "Let's get Captain Riker situated and aboard the Obsidian."

Ardra nodded and appraised Riker, "If you'd follow me, Captain. We'll get you squared away."

After the two departed, T'Kir asked Macen, "D'you think this is a good idea?"

"I really don't know." Macen admitted, "What I do know is that Tom needs this."

"Yah, I got that to." T'Kir conceded, "D'you think this is a regression?"

Macen shrugged, "He 'felt' like the same old Tom Riker, depressed and guilt ridden, but the same vital spirit. I think his decision has been carefully weighed."

"Then should we be about it?" T'Kir enquired.

"After you, milady."

---

The pair exited their office and walked down the hallway to the hangar section of the complex. From there they entered a fully equipped transporter facility with ten pads. They gave the chief their destination and she conferred with Telrik aboard the Obsidian. Having established that everything was in order, Macen and T'Kir were beamed aboard the starship.

Many in Starfleet would argue that the Nova-class surveyor didn't qualify as a starship. Those arguments did not apply to the Obsidian. Starfleet Intelligence's Special Projects Yards had done their usual exceptional work on the surveyor. The SPYards had augmented her propulsion systems and her shields. Her ultra-sensitive sensors had also been upgraded. Only her weapons systems were stock. There wasn't much point in changing those since the ship was primarily a surveillance platform and she'd outmatch most civilian craft she came across.

Given the Obsidian's cover as a privateer, these considerations made sense. Also seeing as how the craft wouldn't be carrying a full compliment of scientists, the crew complement was cut to less than half. Danan had a couple of scientific techs that assisted her in her role as the ship's Sciences Specialist. Kort had a staff of four nurses and the EMH. Parva had an engineering team of twenty, the single largest department. Radil had a dozen Security officers under her command.

The Quartermaster doubled as the Shuttlebay Director. Telrik was the Transporter Chief. One overworked yeoman served both the Captain and the XO. Not counting the Investigative Team, the rest of the bunch made up the Gamma Shift bridge crew and the cross shift station relief personnel.

"Welcome aboard, sir, ma'am." Telrik greeted the ship's Captain and OPS Specialist, "We're all aboard then?"

"One last passenger to add to the list, Telrik." Macen informed the Tellarite.

Telrik's porcine snout quivered in anticipation, "May I be asking who it is then?"

"Captain Riker is joining us on this mission." Macen revealed.

"Oh ho! It'll be good t'have him back aboard."

"Be sure to tell him that." Macen patted the Chief's shoulder and left with T'Kir in tow.

---

Macen and T'Kir proceeded to the main briefing room where Macen commed the new yeoman Jennifer Gomez and asked her to pick up Riker's bags and place them in quarters. Since half the ship was empty, it was easy to accommodate guests. Next, Macen informed Gomez to send Riker to the Briefing Room. Next Macen summoned the Investigative Team.

They arrived wearing expectant expressions. Riker's sudden appearance only heightened the sense of expectation. Riker received a barrage of hearty welcomes. Even Shannon Forger, who had the most to fear by Riker's return, gave him a hearty hug.

Macen settled everyone down and explained the developing situation across the galaxy and on Harbinger, "Hannah, any chance your people might be convinced to join in on our side?"

"Parvac pretty much told you they wanted nothing to do with outside conflicts. My people were like these Omicron once. Like them, the subject worlds united against us. My people were looking for a new place to settle down and discover a new way of life. I'd take him at his word."

"Damn." Macen swore, "So far they're the only ones that have stood a chance against an Omicron cruiser."

"Give the Starfleet Corps of Engineers time, they'll come up with something." Parva said, boasting of her old employers.

"Starfleet must consider Harbinger a top priority if they are sending us there rather than recalling us to Earth to consult on this Omicron situation." Kort opined.

"Starfleet has our reports and our conjecture." Macen replied, "They don't need us there."

There was a lapse in the conversation and Macen asked, "Are there any further questions or comments?"

There was a general consensus of being done and Macen dismissed the group with orders to immediately get underway.

---

"Are certain it's wise to send Macen to Harbinger?" Drake asked Vice Admiral Alynna Nechayev, the Director of Starfleet Intelligence.

"What's your concern?" Nechayev wondered.

"Well, to be frank, Macen is something of a blunt instrument and this is a delicate situation."

"If you've noticed, Macen is blunt when we require it or circumstances warrant it." Nechayev countered, "Macen's previous dealings with the Romulans, and this P'ris in particular, have been the very soul of discretion."

"If you're willing to ignore Macen's prodigious Starfleet career, then observe the opinions of his commercial clientele. They all request his personal attention on every matter. That is not the reputation of a thug."

"It seems to me we were damned lucky to get him back under contract." Nechayev said as a final point.

"It certainly cost enough." Drake huffed.

"We're the one's that put him in the commercial market and allowed him to meritoriously earn exorbitant fees." Nechayev explained, "That man, and his team, are probably the best the SID has. That's why you give him all the difficult assignments. No one else can finesse them."

"He just built up one hell of a body count when he dealt with the Orions." Drake argued.

"They'd kidnapped his wife on his wedding day, then they captured Macen and T'Kir while they were on their honeymoon and executed them. I still don't understand how they came back to life. All I know is that I'm grateful they did and that the Orions got what they deserved. The ensuing power struggle in the Syndicate has certainly eased our workload."

"Given all that, is Macen still the wisest choice?"

"Even if he can't help with the translation work, Macen's relationship with P'ris will ease the tensions between our Vulcan archaeological team and the Romulans."

"If you say so."

"I do." Nechayev smirked, "And I outrank you so that automatically makes me right."

---

The Obsidian took just over four days to reach Harbinger. Once there they found the Romulan Warbird Valdore in orbit over the planet.

"All our old friends gathered together." Macen muttered under his breath to T'Kir then retook his seat beside Forger. Macen had been sensing a great deal of discomfort from her regarding her position. Since she'd opted not to speak of it thus far, Macen continued to merely observe.

Her anxieties had been heightened by Tom Riker's unexpected return. So far, the two officers had worked beautifully together and the Gamma Shift was performing as never before, yet another testament to Riker's command abilities. Macen could see no outward reason behind Forger's misgivings but then again, he wasn't psychic. All right, me mentally amended; some might consider empathy "psychic". Lets call it I'm not prognostic.

Macen chuckled to himself over that. Although he lacked an extrasensory ability to predict the future, his job called for him to do exactly that. For decades, his survival depended on how accurately he could forecast future events. His continued existence in this reality attested to his skill.

"Grace, put us in a standard orbit 5,000 kilometres dead astern of the Valdore." Macen ordered, "Let's see if we can rattle some nerves."

Macen turned to Forger, "Comm Radil and have her meet the investigative team in the shuttlebay. Tell her to be loaded for bear, or Romulans, in this case. In the meantime, the ship is yours." Macen rose and made for the turbolift, "T'Kir, Lees, Rab and Hannah, you're with me."

---

Harbinger's primary was a G0 yellow dwarf. It burned hotter than Earth's sun and therefore made the third planet in this solar system a M-class tropical garden. Its two supercontinents made up most of the planetary biosphere. There were only three small oceans, all roughly equivalent to Earth's Indian Ocean or Bajor's Cystra Ocean.

The atmosphere carried a residual ion charge. This charge could produce massive electrical storms but no storms were currently in sight. It did, however, make the use of the transporter impossible. The investigative team would have to disembark in the ship's runabout, the Corsair II.

Radil arrived in the shuttlebay lugging her portable phaser cannon, her preferred heavy weapon of choice. She would strap it on during the flight to the surface. Daggit was loaded for a small war. He wore two Bajoran Militia issue phasers in twin tactical holsters. He wore another pair in shoulder holsters and a tactical harness. The harness was laden with powerpacks for the phasers.

He had a 40 round magazine for his grenade launcher strapped to his back. He had a Bajoran phaser rifle slung across his back. He carried his grenade launcher with its strap slung over his shoulder. On his right leg, he had a large Bowie knife strapped to his boot.

Macen, T'Kir and Danan each only wore their sidearms. Macen had changed into a charcoal grey tee shirt but wore his black flight jacket. T'Kir had changed into leather pants, an emerald green Tranquillity Henley top and donned a leather duster. Danan sported a sage green Henley, khaki pants and Bajoran brown leather ankle boots.

Grace, who would only fly them to the archaeologists' camp and then return to the Obsidian, wore her customary flight suit, "Captain, I must protest. My presence on the ground could be invaluable."

"It could also be provocative." Macen explained, "My understanding is that tensions are running high enough without adding an armed runabout into the mix."

"But…"

Macen shushed her, "No 'buts' Hannah. Fly the ship and return home." Macen grinned suddenly, "Without creating an incident with the Romulans in the meantime."

Macen's use of humour seemed to assuage her doubts. Macen only wished his own doubts could so easily be quieted. Tensions between the Vulcans and the Romulans were running high. Matters hadn't escalated into a shooting match yet but yet was the operative word. Macen's job was to help solve the riddle confronting the scientists and keep the Romulans from killing the stiff necked Vulcans.

I just hope I can pull it off. Macen mused.

---

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Christine Pike sighed as Ardra buzzed her. She sat down the quarterly fiscal report she'd been reading down and flipped on the comm screen. The Outbound Ventures' corporate logo disappeared to be replaced by the image of the young Acamarian exile. She'd rejected her clan's piratical ways and had ended up here.

"Message, ma'am."

"Who's it from?" Pike wondered.

"Hal Dracas."

"Patch it through please." Ardra's image was replaced by Dracas'. It still took Pike time to recognise Dracas. He'd been an attractive man in his sixties before traipsing off to Ba'ku. Now he was in his thirties, and very handsome. Pike regretted the fact that Dracas was homosexual since it meant she'd never have a shot at the man.

"Hello Hal, what merits your comm?"

Dracas fidgeted somewhat, "Were you able to run the search I asked for?"

Pike shook her head and clucked her tongue, "Now Hal, I never suspected you of being the type to run a background check on a lover."

Dracas sighed, "Christine, do you have the data or not?"

It was Pike's turn to sigh, "Let me pull it up for transmission."

"Thank you." Dracas said as information began filling his database.

"I can give you a quick synopsis." Pike offered.

"Please." Dracas nodded.

"First off, your friend Kiv doesn't work for the cruise service he told you about. He actually works for Celestial Voyages, the second largest line."

Dracas' expression soured, "This isn't starting off very well."

"His position is that of Senior Flight Engineer. His tech school records are included with the data packet, as well as his compulsory educational records."

"What about his position with Solarian Security Services?"

Pike nodded, "He was approached and put on retainer three months ago."

"Why?" Dracas asked in desperation.

"Your friend amassed quite a gambling debt at Quark's aboard DS9. It appears Solarian's deal is to pay off that debt in exchange for information regarding us."

"How did you find all of that out?" a bewildered Dracas asked.

"Ask Brin." Pike replied, "He and T'Kir are the ones who ran this search and compiled the information."

"The Captain?" Dracas gulped. He chided himself for not seeing this eventuality. Macen was a professional investigator and spy. T'Kir could hack any mainframe. He should have thought about asking them himself. Except that you would have been too embarrassed too. Dracas confessed to himself.

"Thanks Christine." Dracas gave her a brilliant smile, "You've been a doll."

Pike blushed as her screen reverted to the corporate logo.

---

The Corsair was making her final, vertical descent. The ruins laid out before them were impressive. A massive ziggurat dominated a clearing leading to a cliff face. The cliffs themselves had buildings and columns carved into them, reminiscent of the Edomite city of Petra on Earth. The Vulcan camp lay to one side of the ziggurat while the Romulan encampment was set up on the opposite side.

Dorik's reports revealed that the ziggurat was hollow, a complex command centre and computer network encompassed by the multilevel interior. The cliff face construction contained a labyrinth of quarters and public courtyards. By all indications, the inhabitants of these structures had been highly advanced. No reasons for their demise or departure had yet been found.

The runabout touched down next to the Starfleet archaeological team's Danube-class craft. Two Vulcans approached the Corsair even as the SID team disembarked. They wore the grey and black Starfleet Class-A uniform with the turquoise Science division blouses. They stopped short of the team and raised their hands in the traditional Vulcan salute.

"Live long and prosper." the highest ranked officer spoke, "Captain Macen, I presume?"

Macen returned the salute, "Peace and long life, Commander. You have presumed correctly."

"Excellent. I am Dorik. Welcome to our dig." the officer replied and appraised the team, "I did not know we were preparing for war, Captain."

"A necessary precaution given the rampant tensions." Macen responded.

"Perhaps. Our relations with our cousins have been…strained." Dorik regarded T'Kir, "Speaking of which, may I say that it is agreeable to see a Vulcan amidst your staff, even if she is garbed in similar fashion to some of our Romulan colleagues."

T'Kir smiled, "That's because I got my outfit from the Tal Shiar during a mission to Romulus."

Dorik's eyes narrowed, "A renegade." he whirled on Macen, "We will not tolerate her presence here. Vulcan does not tolerate or acknowledge her ilk and neither shall we."

Macen stared down Dorik, "You look here. Not only is that officer invaluable to this mission, she happens to be my wife. She goes where I go. If you can't tolerate this, then we'll leave and leave in violation of your orders from Starfleet."

"Your orders match ours." Dorik rebutted.

"I'm a contract employee of Starfleet's SID." Macen said in steely tones, "I can live without a single paycheck. Can you afford to let us leave?"

While Dorik pondered that last point, T'Kir beamed, "He's defending me. He's my knight in shining armour."

Danan rolled her eyes and gestured for T'Kir to return her attention to the scene playing out before them.

"Very well." Dorik practically grated, "Since you say she is an invaluable member of your staff, we will tolerate her presence, but no more. She will not discuss her emotional paradigm with any of us. We will not allow our logic to be polluted by her rash emotionalism."

Deal? Macen telepathically queried T'Kir.

I can live with that. T'Kir thought back, Who needs to talk to `em anyway?

"We have an arrangement, Commander." Macen said with a quarter bow.

"Very well then, we are in accord." Dorik offered Macen a quarter bow in reply.

"Then let's inspect the obelisk and see if we can be of any use to you." Macen suggested.

"If you would all follow me." Dorik gestured towards the looming ziggurat and set off towards it.

---

The SID team obediently followed. Grace, who'd been watching the unfolding scene, sealed the main hatch and returned to the cockpit. It didn't feel right, leaving the others, but she had her orders. Recent events had proven the value of obeying orders.

Three months ago, Grace had neutralised the crew and taken the ship hostage. Only Macen had proven immune to her Attuner. It could only affect objects or people she understood. El-Aurians proved beyond her comprehension.

Macen had given her the beating of her life and tossed her in the brig. Shipboard needs required her to be let out on a work release program. Then the ship had encountered the Omicron, a looming menace that seemed unstoppable. The ship seemed in danger of destruction when her people had intervened.

The Commander of the Kelvan Expeditionary Forces had offered her a choice: face punishment on New Kelva or stay with the crew of the Obsidian, living as a human. Grace had chosen humanity and the crew. Her choice had gone a long way towards healing the rift with the Investigative Team over present and past infractions.

Now, three months later, the Captain still watched her closely, but she was becoming trusted again. The team, following Macen's example was beginning to place their faith in her again. The knowledge that her seemingly infinite power was gone went the furthest towards healing the wounds in her interpersonal relationships. As the recent volleyball game had proven, she was being accepted as one of the group again.

Grace shrugged these thoughts aside and started the take-off sequence for the runabout. When she'd cleared the ziggurat, she began her impulse powered ascent. All the way, she watched what little her sensors could show her due to the ionic interference. As she cleared the atmosphere, her interference faded and she was able to see that Commander Donatra's Valdore hadn't launched any attack craft. Her subsequent docking aboard the Obsidian went flawlessly.

---

On the surface, Macen, his team and the Vulcan archaeologists had reached the entrance at the base of the ziggurat. Dorik waved his hand in front of an elliptical inset next to the massive double doors. With a groan, the doors swung outward revealing a wide passageway leading to the structure's interior.

"Welcome to Temple Mount." Dorik said in his emotionless monotone. Even without emotion, he managed to project all due gravity towards the occasion, "You are about to enter an abode that has been untouched for 50,000 years."

"Until recently." Macen remarked.

The Vulcan looked slightly piqued at being corrected, "Yes, of course. Now if you will follow me."

"Rab, Jenrya, you'll stay here and guard the entrance." Macen ordered.

"I, at least, should follow you to insure your safety." Radil countered. The mercenary turned Security Chief took her responsibilities very seriously.

"You'll ensure our safety by staying here and alerting us to approaching Romulans." Macen informed her.

Radil subsided at that, "All right."

"After you." Macen acquiesced to Dorik.

---

As Dorik led the way, it soon became obvious that there were recessed doors to either side of the corridor spaced at regular intervals. Macen stopped in front of one these and asked, "What are these?"

Dorik turned and seemed to brighten, "These lead to individual quarters. Up ahead there are intersections leading to other corridors and living units such as this one."

"May I see one?"

"Certainly." Dorik approached the door and waved his hand to the side of it. With a slight grating noise, the door swung open and revealed the rooms within. The rooms were uniformly barren except for the furniture. Its shape and configuration followed familiar humanoid lines.

"Whoever these beings were, they left in a short amount of time. We found foodstuffs in refrigeration units and the storage cupboards on the walls." Dorik described.

"Refrigeration rather that stasis chests?" Macen enquired.

"Yes, it appears to an anachronism on their part given the general level of technology we've discovered thus far." Dorik explained.

"Are there other quarters in the facility other than this level?"

"No. The top three levels also contain shielding, sensor and weapons arrays." Dorik answered.

"Earlier you referred to this installation as Temple Mount. Where did this designation derive from?" Macen asked.

"From the central database. Sections of the database can be displayed in Iconian. That is where we derived all of our information. That information revealed that this is a military facility. It was charged with a single task, the protection of a relic of significant historical relevance. The Iconian text also contains explanatory links to other text written in one of the languages we have not been able to translate." Dorik divulged, "I understand you may be able to assist us in these efforts."

"That's the theory." Macen replied.

"If you are finished here, may we proceed to the command centre?"

"Of course." Macen said obligingly.

---

They exited the room and proceeded further down the corridor. They passed two sets of intersections along the way. At the heart of the complex was a central pillar located in a rotunda. There were doors evenly spaced in and around the pillar.

"Are these lifts?" Macen asked.

"Exactly." The Vulcan seemed pleased by Macen's grasp on the layout of the structure.

Once again, Dorik waved his hand over a panel to the side of the door. The doors slid apart with a hiss. Macen frowned at this and Dorik's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"You disapprove?"

"Just tired of that noise." Macen explained, "I hear it most of the day."

The Vulcan nodded, "I understand. The sound is…disturbing for those of us with sensitive hearing as well."

That admission seemed to cost Dorik so Macen left it alone. They entered the lift and Dorik selected a level. The lift began to rise. T'Kir began to curiously study the lift's walls.

"Something up?" Macen asked.

"I don't know." T'Kir revealed, "I'm sensing a limited intelligence in the vicinity. It seems t'be coming from the lift itself."

"Commander," Macen enquired, "have the lifts ever demonstrated any erratic behaviours?"

"No." Dorik answered, "Why do you ask?"

"Call it a hunch."

"Ah." Dorik responded, "Emotionalism."

Macen shrugged, "Call it what you will."

Macen returned his attention to T'Kir, "Can you nail down the source?"

"It'd be easier if I knew what I was dealing with, but yeah, I can track it down."

"Do it. I don't like the thought of an intelligent lift." Macen replied.

T'Kir closed in eyes in concentration. When she opened them again, they blazed with purpose.

"There." She pointed at the lift's controls, "The locus of the intelligence is right there."

"Can you communicate with it?"

T'Kir shrugged, "It's pretty primitive. The most I could do and be understood is send feelings and impressions."

"All right." Macen said, "Keep updated if this thing changes its mind about being cooperative."

"Will do." T'Kir snapped off a jaunty salute.

"Cut that out." Macen rebuked her.

The inevitable tongue stuck out. Macen sighed and settled back into studying the lift. Its one distinction was that it had no distinctions. It could have been the product of dozens of worlds.

It was utterly devoid of any personal touches, the staid hallmark of military complexes the galaxy over. Starships were a different matter. They were full of subtle colours, personal touches, and little personality quirks that imbued the ship with a life of its own. It was the little things that made a ship a home.

The lift stopped and the doors opened and revealed a large, half moon command centre. Macen guessed that they were in the heart of the ziggurat. Dorik confirmed this suspicion.

It took us some time to discover that this is the only lift that comes to this central hub." Dorik divulged, "In fact, this is its only destination."

"What role did the city play?" Macen asked.

"The city appears to have housed the families of those that served within this installation. It served as a recreational outlet for the officers and technicians keeping vigil over the mysterious relic."

"The Iconian text didn't reveal anything about this object?" Macen wondered.

"Only in the vaguest possible terms." Dorik momentarily appeared as though he wanted to sigh, "The exact description on the obelisk is 'the past incarnate, guarded for eternity against the evil ones, those whose skin is as the night. Those whose shackles we have cast off'."

"An ebon skinned oppressor?" Macen enquired.

"That appears to be the focus of the message."

"Have you applied the Rosetta Stone principle to the inscriptions?" Macen asked.

"Of course." Dorik replied with that Vulcan haughtiness that so annoyed other races, "The translation matrix didn't work. Too many of the early script reappears at differing locations. All we read was gibberish. The only logical conclusion is that the inscriptions differ in their messages."

Macen nodded, "I'd have to agree. Let's take a look shall we?"

"Of course." Dorik led them around the hub to the far right corner.

"Why can't access the rest of this level?" Macen wondered.

"We suspect that the rest of this level is devoted to the computer banks that run this facility. The entire level below us is similarly dedicated."

Macen's instincts told him that conclusion was erroneous. He didn't presume to argue with Dorik over it. He was here to assist the archaeologists on this world, not to refute their findings. As he shelved that potential move, he studied the obelisk.

The obelisk was a perfect rectangle. Its surface was divided into quadrants. Each contained text in a different tongue as promised. Two of the languages looked vaguely familiar and he could read another. The fourth was a mystery to him.

Macen pointed at one quadrant, "This is the Iconian?"

"Yes. Are you familiar with the language?" Dorik answered and asked.

"Only a passing knowledge." Macen admitted, "I do, however, speak another of the languages represented here."

Dorik's eyebrows shot up, "Indeed?"

"It's located in this quadrant." Macen pointed to the appropriate text, "It's written in mithrandii. It was the primary language of the Mithrandel. The language was widely spoken in the Delta and Beta Quadrants since the Mithrandel are a trading culture. They operate along similar lines as the Ferengi but with a mercantile bent."

"Fascinating." Dorik expressed his wonder at this revelation, "So they are an intact culture?"

Macen nodded, "They aren't as affluent as they were 20,000 years ago but their guilds are still prosperous. They have exclusive trade franchises with hundreds of worlds. Those exchanges satisfy even the greediest Mithrandel."

"And you have visited these Mithrandel?" Dorik asked.

"Yes, when I was part of El-Auria's Survey Forces. We were chartered to explore the galaxy and catalogue the worlds and races we encountered."

"And your role?"

"I was the triple threat: historian, archaeologist and social scientist." Macen explained.

"And the obelisk, what does it say?" Dorik was riveted. It was obvious his estimation of Macen and his teammates had just risen.

Macen began to read, "In the darkest hours, we plucked the shard of life from those that bend and shape life itself. Beware the dark men, those that dwell in shadow. They shall seek the shard and attempt to mate it with its" Macen paused, "It gets a bit hazy here, a difference of dialect, but here goes nothing: mate it with its sibling and reach out to reconquer the stars."

"Fascinating." Dorik breathed.

"I'm seeing a disturbing pattern here." Macen asserted, "I know of only one race that has midnight black skin and can bioengineer such things as living spaceships. And since I've travelled across three quadrants, that's a disturbing proposition."

"Who would these be?" Dorik asked.

"The Omicron." Macen revealed.

"Perhaps the two remaining inscriptions have the answers we seek." Dorik suggested.

"One way to find out." Macen declared, "T'Kir, give me the portable computer."

T'Kir reached into her utility belt and retrieved an object the size of a Bajoran tricorder. Macen scanned the text of a third inscription. The computer began searching the database for a match.

"What is that?" Dorik enquired.

"A computer containing a database I brought with me from the Delta Quadrant. It contains the records of my voyages throughout the Delta, Beta and Alpha Quadrants. I've seen this tongue before. If I've seen it then it's in the database."

"That would be most helpful." Dorik pronounced, "The central database is primarily written in that tongue."

The computer chimed. It had found a match. Although Dorik's face remained impassive, his eyes twinkled with delight. Macen was afraid the Vulcan might throw logic to the wind and kiss him.

"Here we go. The language is herzel. It was spoken by the Herzet."

"Spoken?" Dorik asked, "They are not an intact civilisation?"

"No, they obliterated the bulk of their civilisation 50,000 years ago. If this was a Herzet base, then that's where your missing officers, techs and civilians went. The war devastated the culture. The only survivors became refugees across a dozen worlds." Macen explained, "Anyway, the inscription reads: The Omicron came and conquered our worlds. They had conquered the stars themselves but we arose as one and threw of our shackles. We took a shard from them but they retain a fragment of the Great Egg from which all hatched. We bombarded their homeworld but it is possible they survived. We must be ever vigilant and guard the shard. For they shall seek it and when they have recovered it, their power shall be complete."

"So it is the Omicron that they speak of." Dorik noted.

"Just as I feared." Macen said in a dismal tone, "We knew the Omicron were heavy hitters out to create havoc across the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. What we didn't know is that they're trying resurrect a galactic empire that died 100,000 years ago."

"How can you be certain of that date?" Dorik asked.

"Your own dating analysis of the obelisk." Macen replied, "The obelisk was cut and the inscriptions imprinted 100,000 years ago."

"Indeed." Dorik confirmed.

"They maintained this installation for 50,000 years waiting for a resurrection that would take another 50,000 years before it would occur." Macen summarized and then brightened, "But now we can access the central computer and download its contents and filter them through a translation matrix."

"My thoughts exactly." Dorik concurred.

"T'Kir, you're up." Macen said with a grin and tossed the computer back to her.

She grinned back and removed the isolinear rod from its receptacle. She removed a blank rod from her belt and inserted it into the minicomputer. T'Kir then strolled over to the largest computer terminal and examined it. The activation button was obvious so she depressed it and began to probe the terminal's surfaces.

T'Kir removed a tricorder from her belt and began to scan the computer. Finding the frequency that its wireless transmitter was on, she activated the minicomputer's transmitter/receiver. With the translation matrix in place she was able to scroll through the main computer's menus and select the options she required. Within minutes, the data was streaming in and being imprinted onto the isolinear rod.

"Impressive." Dorik said from behind her, "You have produced results that my specialists could only strive for."

"Thank Brin's database." T'Kir replied, "I just work here."

"Nevertheless, you duplicated in minutes what took my team three hours to accomplish." Dorik said approvingly.

"You just have to know computers." T'Kir looked tipped her head and peered "up" at him, "And I do."

"Indeed."

"Brin, I've found something here." T'Kir announced, "I've found a cartographical section with the exact location of Omicron." She turned around and wore a triumphant smile, "I also found a translation matrix for Omicronese."

"Beautiful. As soon as you're done there bring it over here and translate the final inscription." Macen requested.

"You got it, Babe." T'Kir called back. Her download took another seven minutes and then she returned to the obelisk, "Y'know what? I'm getting that funny impression again."

"Another intelligence?" Macen asked.

"Yup." T'Kir nodded, "And it's just as dumb as the last one."

"What are you two discussing?" Dorik asked.

"Biotech. It seems you facility has examples of it incorporated in the walls." Macen revealed.

"We have not detected any such technology." Dorik protested.

"It's probably shielded." T'Kir replied, "The Omicron are masters of bioengineering. Who says they couldn't create stealth tech?"

"What would Omicron technology be doing in a Herzet base?" Dorik enquired.

"Remember, these people were part of the Omicron Empire. Their technology would be bound to be disseminated." T'Kir argued.

"Honey, could you look for the source of the intelligence you're sensing?" Macen asked, "I'll handle the translation."

"Sure." she said brightly and bounded off to the wall behind the obelisk.

"Her emotions are fluidic." Dorik commented.

Macen shrugged, "She's a Vulcan. That means she's very passionate."

"I am aware of that fact." Dorik said dryly.

"But of course you are." Macen remarked. He activated the minicomputer's sensor and scanned the inscription. It took a moment for the translation of a translation to appear but when it did, it appeared ominous.

"Oookay, here's what it says," Macen said, "Beware doombringers. If you attempt to retrieve the shard of potentiality itself, you will be destroyed. This complex will rain down upon you like kerups upon a sheglat. Forsake your vain quest. The shard is lost to you, for now unto eternity."

"What does it mean?" Dorik wondered.

"It means that this place is rigged to implode if you're an Omicron and you try to retrieve the 'shard of potentiality'." Macen replied.

"How can you be so certain?"

"The same way I'm certain that what's behind this wall will reveal the location of the shard." Macen said and went to join T'Kir.

"You find it yet?"

T'Kir pointed at a dark stain on the wall, "It's behind there."

"So what do I do?" Macen asked, "Wave my hand in front of it?"

T'Kir shrugged, "It's the way the rest of this place works. Y'might as well try it."

Macen reached at chest level and waved his hand in front of the dark spot. Nothing happened.

"Is it broken?"

"It senses you." T'Kir assured him, "It also knows you're not an Omicron. What it doesn't know is what you are. You're not in its database."

"Can you nudge it?" Macen wondered.

"I guess I could try."

"That would really be appreciated."

"Afraid of looking bad in front of the Vulcans?"

"Hey, who went to bat for you?"

"You did and you're a sweetheart for it."

"So can you help me open the damn door?"

"Working on it." T'Kir said, "Try again…now."

Macen waved his hand again and this time the wall began to move. It rumbled as it sank into the floor and dust fell from the ceiling.

"Woohoo! That's my man!" T'Kir shouted and then she hugged and kissed Macen.

Dorik and his fellow archaeologist looked uncomfortable with this naked display of emotion. "What is this place?" Dorik asked.

"This is where all the questions get answered." Macen said as the wall settled into the floor. When it stopped moving, he took T'Kir by the hand and walked into the chamber that lay revealed.

---

Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Macen and T'Kir entered the chamber and looked around. It was a half moon space, just like the outer chamber. Situated at the centre of the room was an oval slab made of metal. At the heart of the slab was a recessed piece of equipment that looked similar to a holo emitter.

Danan, Dorik and the second archaeologist, Velrik, followed Macen and T'Kir into the space. Dorik and Velrik gazed about and took in the pictographs on the chamber walls. Both scientists immediately pulled out a holo-imager and began recording the scenery. Danan used a tricorder to scan the table at the heart of the room.

"This is 100,000 years old and it's still in pristine condition." Danan said with wonder in her voice.

"This seems to be the control panel." T'Kir announced, "It's the only surface on it that has any writing."

Macen handed her the computer, "Get a translation."

T'Kir scanned the panel and scrutinised the translation of the text, "It's definitely the controls to this thing. The symbols to the left of the text are the activation buttons." Seeing Dorik and Velrik's intense interest, she continued her description, "The buttons are arranged bottom to top, right to left. There's buttons here to activate, deactivate and operate the machine. There's a keyboard with the Herzet alphabet and numbers for the programming sequences."

"Dare we activate the machine?" Dorik asked.

"You activated the computers without incident." Macen replied, "This room was meant to be found by non-Omicrons. I think we're supposed to activate this machine after coming this far."

"Another hunch?" Dorik enquired.

"A feeling." Macen clarified.

"Thus far, your instincts have accurately led us." Dorik conceded, "Your apparent insight into this culture is proving invaluable."

"So you're willing to proceed?" Macen asked.

"Indeed."

"Do it." Macen told T'Kir.

She depressed two of the symbols on the panel's surface and an image appeared in the air above the table. It was a schematic of the ziggurat. It fit in with the Vulcans preliminary layout of the facility except for this depiction possessed a room that had yet to be discovered. That room was buried deep beneath the ziggurat.

"T'Kir, can you highlight and enhance the shaft that leads to the hidden chamber." Macen asked.

"Of course." came her haughty reply.

Watch the lip, Macen mentally teased, or I'll be forced to spank.

Promise? T'Kir thought eagerly.

"I think the shaft portrayed is the same one that leads to this centre." Macen said as the route to the formerly disguised chamber changed colour, "See, the end of the lift's run is this command post at one end and the vault at the other."

Dorik's eyebrows rose, "Why do you refer to the chamber as a vault?"

"It has the security of one. This entire facility has an architectural siege mentality. They buried a secret and they intended to keep it buried for the rest of time." Macen declared.

Dorik touched the bridge of his nose with steepled fingers, "Perhaps you are right. You seem determined to rewrite all the conclusions my team have written about this place."

The last was said dryly and Macen grinned, "Only one way to find out. That's to go to this vault and see what they were hiding."

"Agreed."

T'Kir's eyes widened, "We've got company."

Macen's comm badge chirped and he tapped it, "Macen."

"You have a party of Romulan scientists coming up," Daggit reported, "that and an officer of some sort. Dresses a lot like T'Kir."

"That'd be P'ris. Thanks Rab."

"Should Jenrya and I come up?" Daggit asked.

"No. Stay put and await my next signal." Macen said, "Both of you."

Macen could practically feel Radil's answering glare but left it at that and closed the circuit, "All right people, let's clear this room!"

Macen ushered the Vulcan scientists and Danan out of the room. He turned towards the section of remaining wall that possessed the door sensor. He waved his hand I front of it. Nothing happened.

"T'Kir?" he inquired.

"Sorry Brin," T'Kir shrugged, "it's unidirectional. It can only be activated from the other side. They hopped to the other side of the wall and tried again. T'Kir sent along her telepathic prodding and the sensor registered the request. The wall/door began to rise out of the floor.

Dorik approached, apprehension in his eyes, "Captain, how is it possible that your…wife knew of the incoming Romulans or that she is necessary to activating the door sensor?"

"T'Kir's a class 4 telepath." Macen answered. With telepathy ratings verging from class 1: barely able to register the thoughts of others through touch or other means of close proximity, to class 5: limitless range and potential. A class 4 was virtually unheard of. If the doctors of the Andes Psychiatric Institute would have known what they were looking at, they too would have consulted the Vulcan databases for aids in curbing such potential.

As Dorik's eyes widened in surprise Macen was glad that he alone knew T'Kir's terrible secrets. During the height of the Maquis Rebellion and her subsequent imprisonment in the Andes Institute, T'Kir reached the full potential of her class and was able to peruse the thoughts of billions spread across an entire sector. It was a miracle that she'd retained what vestiges of sanity that she had.

Although her abilities were pared down to a level she could control, her mastery over her psionic abilities was growing. As a result, she and Macen were slowly, ever so slowly, reducing the amount of medication she took. Although her long-range abilities were intentionally blocked, her short-range abilities were increasing geometrically. She'd used these abilities to kill.

This was T'Kir's most haunted secret. She'd begun to enjoy inflicting pain upon others. It had become a trait after her capture and subsequent torture at the hands of an Orion Syndicate crime boss. From that time onward she'd preyed upon those that preyed upon the weak. She saw herself as the great equalizer.

Macen had expressed his concerns regarding these matters to his wife. She'd responded by asking for his help to assist her in avoiding such behaviours in the future. So far, she'd gone the last three months without lashing out with her mind. It wasn't perfect but it was a start.

Although the Vulcan would have denied the emotion, Macen could sense his fear, "Dorik, it's all right. She's in control of herself."

"The ancients wrote of beings such as her. They were primarily responsible for the chaos that threatened to overwhelm Vulcan."

Macen looked to the side as the door/wall slid shut with a resounding thud that echoed throughout the command centre, "She's under treatment. We're using the klymerish treatment model to curb her abilities back to a class 3." Macen neglected to mention that she had been as low as a class 2.

"Very well then." Dorik said warily, "She appears stable enough, although instabilities may be shrouded by her emotionalism."

"Give it a rest." Macen snapped, "She's already done more for this investigation then you have. You laid out the groundwork and she's helped me put the pieces of this puzzle together."

Dorik blinked in surprise, "Perhaps we should continue this dig without you, Captain."

Macen wearily sighed, "Two problems with that scenario: first, you need T'Kir to operate the lift and second, how do you propose to get whatever you find past the Romulans to your runabout for analysis?"

"I…" Dorik began to speak but paused, "Very well, it is only logical that your team continues with us."

"Wrap this up fellas." T'Kir advised, "They're here."

---

The lift door opened and Commander P'ris of the Tal Shiar stepped out. As promised, she wore leather pants, boots and duster identical to T'Kir's. Little surprise since both came from the same Tal Shiar equipment room. P'ris' blouse, however, was a stone grey, typical for Romulan fashion. Her holster was also typical Imperial military issue.

P'ris' appearance had changed. Now her hair was worn in a bevelled bob, being angled and shorter in the back. Her bangs were long enough to disguise the vestigial crests in the Romulan forehead. Her brown eyes flashed with mirthful pleasure at seeing Macen, T'Kir and Danan again.

"What an expected surprise, Commander." P'ris commented.

"Its 'Captain" now. I've retired from Starfleet's active duty roster." Macen corrected.

"Maybe, but Starfleet still reactivates your commission from time to time, such as when you last visited Romulus, as well as contracts you to engage in covert operations for them." P'ris countered.

"That was four years ago." Macen amended, "Another lifetime ago."

"Yes, Donatra reported that you'd arrived in a starship rather than a scoutship." P'ris replied, "A vessel similar to the one that you used inside the Romulan Empire."

"Considerably less well armed." Macen informed her, "It's a surveyor, like those used by Starfleet."

"With enhanced warp engines and shield emitters." P'ris described, "Our scans have been quite thorough."

"I can imagine." Macen remarked dryly.

P'ris turned and embraced T'Kir, "It's good to see you again, my dear."

"Really?" T'Kir's eyebrows rose.

"Yes." P'ris steered T'Kir closer to Macen so that they bumped together. Macen instinctively wrapped his arm around T'Kir. P'ris smiled.

"I understand that congratulations are in order for you two." P'ris preened.

"Our marriage is old news, P'ris." Macen informed her.

"Not your marriage, your victory against Daveed B'nner and the Orion Syndicate." P'ris laughed, "Those Syndicate scum have ceased their operations in the Neutral Zone and smugglers have stopped bringing in most of the contraband from the Federation into the Empire. Life has improved since you married."

"We'd like to think so." Macen said dryly. T'Kir's head snapped around to look at him so fast her ponytail swayed. She looked confused by his acquiescence to P'ris' interpretation of events. Seconds later she relaxed, visibly relieved. P'ris took note of the obvious telltale of their telepathic rapport in action.

"But of course you do." P'ris remarked then turned to Danan, "And what do you think? You and the Captain used to be lovers after all. Does their marriage bother you?"

"It did at first." Danan answered with unexpected candour, "But I soon grew to accept it. They're better together than with anyone else or simply apart."

"I see." P'ris said quietly, then more boisterously, "The notion of mixed marriages has become quite the fad among the Romulan colonists occupying subject worlds."

"I assume this trend hasn't reached the social hierarchy of Romulus yet." Macen theorised.

"The capital has proven…resistant to change." P'ris reluctantly admitted.

"Whatever happened to the Rhihansu colonists under your care?" Macen asked suddenly.

P'ris' eyes narrowed, "They are prospering, to the best of my knowledge."

"But you haven't bothered to find out." Macen observed, "The Tal Shiar beckoned and you enlisted without a second thought to those colonists that placed their faith in your tolerance for their cause."

"I stood before the Director of the Tal Shiar and defended your actions on Romulus. How is that for keeping faith?" P'ris angrily demanded.

"Not the same thing." Macen replied, "Our actions resolved an internal struggle within your government and military. The Rhihansu were an embarrassment to the Romulan 'people'."

"They were executed!" P'ris hissed, "The Senate decided to revoke the amnesty they'd granted the members of the movement and had them all killed. I nearly died the day I heard of this." P'ris regained control of her breathing and wiped her eyes, "Are you satisfied now?"

"Just seeing if you were still the same person I'd known four years ago." Macen admitted.

"Emotionalism." Macen heard Dorik say. P'ris was reaching for her disruptor when Macen yelled, "Stop!" Next he turned on Dorik, "From now on, keep your comments to yourself. I'm beginning realise that the provocateurs here aren't the Romulans."

Dorik's lips pressed together so tightly they turned white. It was the most emotional display Macen had seen out of him yet. It was rather heartening to know that Vulcan's self discipline was strong enough to ward of an incident with the Romulans. He was far more circumspect angry than under normal conditions. That was an invaluable insight that Macen could use.

"Bickering is pointless." Macen sternly pointed out, "The Romulan science team is here now. Let's give them some space."

"What have you discovered?" P'ris asked, all suspicion.

"The same thing you have," Macen replied, "the obelisk and the computer share common languages. Unfortunately the primary language in the computer is also indecipherable without an outside translation key."

"Are you certain that's all you want to tell me?" P'ris leaned forward, eyes boring into his.

Macen levelly met her gaze, "That's all I want to tell you."

"Very well. We appreciate your offer of unobserved investigation into the mysteries of this place." P'ris relented.

"We'll get out of your way then." Macen said and ushered the Vulcans and his team along towards the lift.

---

Once in the lift, T'Kir waved her hand underneath the control bank and offered up the mental command, Accept.

The lift started downward. It travelled to the base of the ziggurat and then continued on. It took over ten minutes to travel to the lift's destination. When the doors opened it was into an age of wonder.

---

Dracas sat in his flat waiting for Kiv. He'd left the lights off as the sun set in the West. Finally, the door's locking mechanism released and Kiv walked in.

"Damn." Kiv said as he saw the inner darkness, "Lights!"

The lights came on and revealed Dracas sitting alone in the living room. His eyes were hollow and he was pale and drawn. Kiv shifted his weight uneasily.

"Hal, what are you doing?"

Dracas rose and silently approached. In his right hand he clutched a sheaf of flimsies. He stopped when he stood centimetres from Kiv's face. His bloodshot eyes blazed with unspoken rage.

"How could you?" rasped Dracas. He dropped the flimsies on the floor and stalked off to the bedroom.

"What the hell?" Kiv remarked as he scratched his head. He stooped over and retrieved the flimsies off the floor. When he read the first one, his knees buckled and he dropped to the floor.

"Oh frinx." Kiv said in a hoarse whisper, "frinx, frinx, frinx! What am I going to do?"

---

Tom Riker and Kort sat down to a meal in the Team Room. For Riker it was an early breakfast. For Kort it was dinner. The ship's watch rotations fell in the middle of Harbinger's day and night. It was almost mid-day on the planet's surface. That meant that Riker would soon be coming on duty.

Kort would officially be off-duty when Riker assumed command of the Obsidian. Normally he would share half of his watch with Shannon Forger but since Shannon had been on-duty since before Macen departed, Riker doubted she would share his shift. Since Harbinger roughly had a 28-hour day, which meant that the 24-hour shift changes aboard the Obsidian would constantly move fours hours in the Harbinger solar day. Macen had beamed down shortly after dawn. Riker's Gamma shift would take the watch seven hours after that event. Macen and the others had been planetside for six hours now with no communication with the ship.

Riker was worried. He'd decided to alleviate his concerns by heading for the bridge early. Kort, on the other hand, looked as anxious as Riker felt. Riker felt for the Klingon. To be left behind to worry about someone you care about was a mind wracking experience. Despite their most recent estrangement, Kort was agonising over Radil's fate.

"I'm sure she's all right." Riker said.

"Hmnn." Kort's reverie was interrupted, "Yes, I'm certain she is. Whom are we talking about again?"

"Radil." as soon as Riker spoke the name, pain flashed across Kort's eyes, "Have you told her how you feel about her?"

"What is there to tell?" Kort remained evasive.

"That you love her." Riker responded.

Kort sighed, "Is it that obvious?"

"To those that know you." Riker informed him.

"Why doesn't she see it then?" bemoaned Kort.

"Have you told her?" Riker asked.

"No." Kort admitted, "Klingons formally declare their intention to court before seriously proceeding with a romantic endeavour."

"In a way humans and Bajorans follow the same rule." Riker explained, "One thing is certain, females across the galaxy appreciate a declaration of how their suitor feels about them before permanently committing to a relationship."

"I should tell her I love her?" Kort enquired, "Won't such an admission be considered a sign of weakness, of surrender?"

"Surrender to passion, yes. A sign of weakness, no." Riker replied, "Take this to heart, the one thing I learned from my relationship with Jamie is that as soon as your certain about your feelings, express them. If I'd followed that rule, Jamie and I would have had years together rather than just under a year. It's my one regret from our time together. I knew how I felt and that I wanted to marry her shortly after we met but I waited until it was too late. Don't make the same mistake."

Kort sat back with a surprised look upon his face, "What do you mean?"

"Radil…Jenrya has a dangerous profession." Riker elaborated, "She's been fighting a war in some form or another since she was born, first as a Resistance fighter then as a mercenary. Her current role as Security Chief aboard the Obsidian isn't much safer since it usually requires her to travel to a planetary surface with the Investigative Team to help insure their survival."

"You're not helping." Kort grumbled.

"What I'm saying is you have to express your love for her while you still can." Riker exhorted, "Don't carry around the guilt I bear if you don't have to."

Kort paused in rumination for some time. Finally he lifted his eyes to meet Riker's, "You are correct. I cannot deny myself any longer. I must declare my feelings and I must do it upon her return."

Riker clapped his shoulder, "That's the spirit."

"If only we knew what was happening on the surface. This thrice damned ionic interference is maddening." Kort complained.

Riker rose, "I'm on my way to the bridge to see if I can help in some way. Want to come?"

Kort nodded and rose, "It would be a pleasure."

---

In Engineering, Parva swore as she broke another stem bolt. Gilan, her second, came to see if she required assistance. She let him take over and shifted to a simpler task. Something that only required muscle memory.

Intellectually, she understood that Daggit stood the best chance out of anyone else on the team of coming back. Telling her heart that was another matter. She couldn't afford to lose Daggit. Not right now.

Her heart had just begun to mend, under Daggit's tender ministrations, from the years of abuse she'd suffered as a slave. She was mistrustful of men, except Daggit, but she no longer wanted to see them all dead. It was a start, a slow and painstaking start but a beginning nonetheless. Parva knew she needed Daggit's deft touch in order to continue her progress.

Wearing a sly smile, she remembered his other deft touch. Her enjoyment of the physical bond between them surprised Parva. She'd thought herself ruined to a man's touch by her time as a sex slave. Fortunately for her, Daggit was no ordinary man. The Angosian could accept any amount of punishment she dished out and kept coming back with a fervent intensity of his own. For a man that had killed countless souls, his touch could be surprisingly gentle and intimate. He also knew when to discipline.

Parva sighed as she stalled on her project. It was useless. If she could at least call the bridge and ask for an update but it was pointless. The bridge crew knew less than she did.

Parva had never loved before. Sometimes it was a very frightening experience. This was one of those times. She could almost see why her people had done away with romance. It could be quite burdensome.

Taking a deep breath, Parva called Gilan over and began reviewing their current diagnostics and repairs on the warp drive and the impulse engines. Gilan seemed relieved to see his Chief back in her stride. Parva said nothing. She knew her exterior appearance was a sham. Inwardly, all she could do was worry about Daggit.

By all that's holy, Parva vowed, you'd better come back Rab, or I'm gonna kill you.

---

Kiv Rever cycled the door's locking mechanism and stepped into Dracas' bedroom. Once again, the lights were off. Kiv could just make out Dracas' shape sitting at the edge of the bed.

"Lights." Kiv requested. Nothing happened.

"C'mon Hal, let's talk about this." Kiv pleaded.

"You want to talk?" Dracas bitterly laughed, "Fine. Let's talk. Why did you lie about your employer? Why did you lie about the terms of your contract with Solarian Security Systems?"

"I didn't want to sound boastful about my job, especially when I hadn't been promoted in ten years." Kiv grimly explained, "As far as Solarian goes, my contract with them was my doing. I'm trying to get out of it. They want me to use you for more technical information. I'm not going to do that. They threatened to sue me for the latinum they spent paying off my gambling debts. I'm trying for an arrangement where I work off my debt. That's all."

"Illuminate." Dracas said and the lights came on. Kiv and Dracas both blinked. "Figures," Dracas said with resignation, "I fall for a liar and a cheat. Why can't I ever love an honest man?"

"You love me?"

"As a former colleague would say, 'sucks, don't it?'" Dracas quipped.

"Oh, Hal." Kiv got emotional and stepped forward to embrace Dracas.

"Just don't do it again." Dracas whispered, "You've been weird. It's time to stop."

"All right. I promise." Kiv swore and squeezed Dracas.

---

Chapter 5: Chapter 5

Macen, T'Kir and Danan all let out a collective gasp upon seeing the vault beneath the Herzet ziggurat. The Vulcan scientists maintained their stoic silence. The chamber that stretched forth in front of them was filled with various samples of technology. Situated in the middle of the room was a fragment of an unknown composition suspended in an antigravity field above a rectangular litter.

Macen started to step forward but T'Kir grabbed his arm, "Don't. There's another organic AI guarding this room. If you're not Iconian or Herzet, it'll kill you. Let me convince it that we're Iconians and then step out."

T'Kir closed her eyes and then opened them, "I got it. I think."

"How will we know if it's worked?" Macen asked.

"If it starts killing people, then it didn't work." T'Kir shrugged.

"All right, I'll go first." Macen decided only to be grabbed by T'Kir.

"You're insane. I should go first."

"That doesn't make sense. If we lose you then there's definitely no way across this room. I'm expendable for the mission."

"You may be expendable for this mission but not to me!"

"Listen, I'm not going to argue about this…"

Danan interrupted by saying, "Fine, I'll go." She pushed past Macen and stepped out into the awaiting chamber.

"Lees!" Macen tried to grab her but T'Kir held him back.

"It's her choice." T'Kir whispered as she closed her eyes.

After a moment, Danan turned around and smiled, "See? Still alive."

As soon as T'Kir let go of him, Macen proceeded over to Danan's side and began to lecture, "Don't you ever proceed into a hazard zone without permission."

"Nice to see you still care." Danan smiled brightly.

"Of course I care." Macen snapped, "You're a member of my team and we have…"

"A history." Danan nodded, "It doesn't change anything between us but it does mean you'd be a little more upset if I died then let's say…Rab."

"Lees, I…" Macen started to say but Danan interrupted.

"You're happily married to the perfect woman for you." she said, "I'm not contesting that. What I am saying is you care about my well being, otherwise you wouldn't have risked so much during the Magna Roma mission."

A grinning T'Kir came to stand beside them, "See Lees, what did I tell ya? Deep down he's just a sentimental softy."

"I remember." Danan purred.

"Okay, if we're done embarrassing me, can we get back to business?"

The two ladies exchanged a knowing look and ceased. Dorik and Velrik came to stand beside the SID team members.

"Emotionalism." Dorik pronounced with distaste.

"Listen pal," T'Kir blurted, "emotionalism this!" T'Kir's hand shot up in a crude Terran gesture.

Dorik and Velrik ignored this display and moved on. Danan looked bewildered. Macen was shielding his eyes with one hand and rubbing his temples with it.

"I never thought I'd see that particular hand gesture again especially since it died out in the mid-21st century." Macen spoke through a strained voice.

"They didn't get it and they'd have to wait seven years to act it out." T'Kir replied.

Macen sighed, "Focus people. We have a job to do. Once we retrieve the artefact we still have to get it by the Romulans. Neither P'ris nor Donatra are slouches in the covert ops department so we're going to have to proceed cautiously."

T'Kir caressed Macen's cheek, "You'll think of something. You always do."

"Flattery will get you nowhere." Macen replied, "This time the controlling variable is the Vulcans."

"We're screwed." T'Kir said in resignation.

"Captain," Dorik called out, "I believe we have located the relic."

"Just because it's in the centre of the room and is the most prominent object down here?" Macen muttered.

"What was that, Captain?" Dorik returned.

"You'd think I'd remember the ears by this time." Macen grumbled.

"See?" T'Kir grinned, "Most of the time I don't need telepathy."

Macen cupped T'Kir's face in his hands, "With some of us, you've never needed telepathy." As she pondered his reference to his and Grace's immunity to her psionic gifts, he brushed aside the stray locks of hair covering her face and stepped forward to kiss her. T'Kir breathed deeply and pressed herself into his embrace.

Danan cleared her throat, "You may want to stop. You're embarrassing the Vulcans."

"I'm no longer inclined to care." Macen said, gazing at T'Kir.

"Then care about the mission." Danan urged.

"Right. Back to the mission." Macen sighed.

"Lees, we were having a moment." T'Kir complained.

"Have it later." Danan replied sternly.

"She's right." Macen conceded, "We'll have time for a romantic interlude later."

"Fine." T'Kir said sullenly.

---

Macen approached Dorik and Velrik's position next to the litter with the suspended object within its canopy. He bent over to peer inside the canopy. The rough edged fragment was roughly the size of a baseball. One of Macen's fellow Academy students had been from a colony where baseball was all the rage. This baseball however looked like debris from an explosion.

The relic, if this was indeed, the "orb of potentiality", glowed from within. Every particle it was composed of seemed to be backlit. Danan bent over it with a tricorder in hand. T'Kir went to work translating the controls.

Danan went down on her knees while T'Kir announced her findings, "This is the relic all right. This is essentially an antigrav unit. There's also forcefields backing up the antigrav field. In essence, it's a much more powerful version of the containment units the Romulans use to control their artificial singularities."

"Is this a singularity?" Macen wondered.

"No." Danan replied with awe in her voice, "The antigrav field may be preventing the relic from compressing the planet in its gravitational pull but it's no singularity. This is the densest object ever recorded outside of singularities. As it stands right now, the densest singularity recorded by Federation scientists is light compared to this. This is the densest material science has encountered thus far."

"Federation science." Macen clarified, "These people, and the Omicron, were already well versed in its properties."

"Ahem," T'Kir cleared her throat, "I'm done here Boss. Can I go look at the assorted toys spread across the room?"

"Please." Macen replied, "Grab anything that looks useful."

"Check." T'Kir replied and scooted off.

"That was a dangerous assignment to hand out." Danan remarked wryly.

"I don't think any of the tech will harm her." Macen countered.

"I meant assigning her to choose what's valuable or not is a dangerous proposition." Danan explained, "She may be a cybernetics engineer but she's still an engineer. She's liable to bring everything back."

Macen shook his head, "Careful, you're short changing her again. This isn't twelve years ago when we were all with the Maquis. She's changed, more than you know."

"Maybe, but she's still childlike at times." Danan observed.

"A healthy sense of wonder is an amazing thing to have." Macen said, "Like this object. It literally represents probability."

"What did you say?" Danan urgently asked.

"This thing doesn't just warp probabilities, it reshapes them." Macen informed her.

"Brin, this thing is older than what the tricorder can record." Danan emphasised.

"Tricorders are fairly limited." Macen replied, "Let's see what the ship's lab sensors can determine."

"Did you ever study the encounter of the original NCC-1701 Enterprise's encounter with a giant space amoeba?" she asked.

Macen frowned, "I seem to have missed that one."

"I'm surprised since it involves your hero." Danan remarked, "Anyway, the Enterprise encountered this impossible creature and they tried to determine where it came from. Federation scientists have studied the sensor logs of the event for a century and what they determined is that the amoeba somehow survived the heat death of the previous universe and the birth of our universe. Of course, it didn't survive Kirk."

"Are you theorising that this is something similar?"

"I'm your Sciences Specialist but my speciality is stellar cartography. In order to be a good cartographer, you have to be an astronomer, a cosmologist and an astrophysicist first." Danan described, "This relic perfectly fits all the models we have for the 'cosmic egg', the contracted stellar mass of the previous universe right before it explodes outward in a chaotic miasma of matter and energy."

"Lees," Macen breathed, "the records in the control centre mentioned the Omicrons having a mate to this fragment. Could this be harnessed as a weapon?"

"Brin, this is potentially dozens of solar systems and the life that will arise in them. If you had the proper technology, you could harness the potential of this…treasure and…"

"And create the most sophisticated biotech anyone has ever seen." Macen finished.

Danan nodded, "Something like that."

"Brin!" T'Kir called out, "Come here."

Macen gave Danan a sidelong glance and then went over to T'Kir even as the Vulcan archaeologists crowded around Danan and began plying her with questions.

"What's up?" Macen asked.

T'Kir pointed at the object on the pedestal with one hand while holding the minicomputer with her left, "Check this out."

"You have the translation matrix." Macen reminded her, "Why don't you just tell me what you've found?"

"Cranky." T'Kir scolded, "This is an ionic shield. It's designed to withstand Omicron ion blasts."

Macen kissed her, "You're a brilliant, beautiful and gifted soul."

T'Kir shrugged, "I know."

Macen grinned, "And modesty is foremost among your many virtues."

T'Kir passed her hands down her body, "It's hard to be humble when you're this perfect."

Macen rolled his eyes, "Is there enough room for your ego and the rest of us down here?"

"Well," T'Kir put her free finger to the corner of her mouth and pursed her lips in concentration, "you did said you were expendable."

"Keep this up and I will have to spank you." Macen warned.

"Promises. Always promises." T'Kir sighed.

"Downshift, Speed." Macen advised, "Gather the gear and an installation manual if you can find one."

"Can do." T'Kir said jauntily, "And about that spanking…"

"Later." Macen replied. T'Kir wiggled her arse in Macen's direction and scampered off in search of an operations and installation manual.

Macen spared a moment to watch her bustle about before returning to the antigrav unit with a smile on his face, "So, what have we determined?"

"This unit's mobile." Danan said as she rose from her knees and closed her tricorder, "That grav sled over there should be sufficient to move the whole assembly."

"We'll need the use of your runabout's comm array to signal our ship." Macen informed Dorik, "They can dispatch our runabout to retrieve us and the relic."

"I must insist that Velrik and I accompany you." Dorik replied.

Macen nodded, "Easily done."

Dorik hesitated, as though he had been expecting an argument, "That is very gracious of you, Captain."

"We're on the same side." Macen responded, "Both of our goals will be met by investigating the nature of this fragment. Yours is so all the citizens of the Federation can benefit from this discovery. My mission is to facilitate and assist that goal. More importantly, with the introduction of the Omicron element, is to determine the true capabilities of their military machine and to determine how these people defeated them."

"So once again, science is subverted for military means." Dorik observed dryly.

"The scientific nature of your inquiry will remain unimpeded." Macen assured the Vulcan, "However, your discoveries will enable us to combat the Omicron aggression that's currently sweeping our galaxy."

"I have read the latest dispatches from Starfleet Command." Dorik replied, "Surely we will overcome these aggressors as we have done in the past."

"I've faced the Omicron three times now, and given my druthers, I won't do it again." Macen informed Dorik, "As it stands right now, we all soon be in conflict with the Omicrons and I can tell you from experience, as things stand now, we won't win."

"But we have defeated the Borg, on two separate occasions." Dorik argued.

"A feat which hasn't been accomplished by thousands of species before you, mine included." Macen remarked, "Eventually, the Federation will develop the technology and the tactics to counter the Omicron weapons but how many lives will be lost in the interim? We have an opportunity to shorten that period of discovery and save millions of lives in the process."

"Very well, Caption. Your arguments are as logical as they are persuasive." Dorik conceded, "I will not hinder your extrapolations based upon our research."

"That's good." Macen revealed, "I wasn't going to give you a choice. Now what about that grav sled?"

Velrik appeared as if by magic with the pallet sled. Carefully, he slid the front forks under the containment unit and then increased the antigrav of the sled. It lifted into the air. The sled's controls were attached to it by a cable.

"Hon, are you ready?" Macen called out to T'Kir.

"Just a sec." she called back, "Come check this out."

Macen trudged on over to her position in front of another pedestal, "You have something?"

"See this unit?" T'Kir pointed to a circular object reminiscent of the projector in the hidden half of the command centre, "This is the instruction manual."

"How does it work?" Macen asked.

T'Kir picked up a crystal shard and inserted into a receptacle in the front of the potential holoprojector. Within seconds, a holographic text appeared in the air above the circular device. It was written in Herzet but they had their translation matrix.

"Grab it, the data crystals and the shield projector." Macen ordered, "There's grav sleds in a corner over there."

"Yeah, I'd noticed that, Cutie." T'Kir remarked and trotted off to retrieve a pallet sled. Fortunately, both of their acquisitions were big enough not to fall between the sled's forks. The crystals went into T'Kir's belt pouches. They shared space with the minicomputer's isolinear rods.

---

The troupe returned to the lift and squeezed their sleds in. As the doors closed, T'Kir let out a long breath of air.

"Whew. Am I glad we're out of there. Fooling that computer was beginning to give me a headache."

Macen had noted T'Kir's increasing distress despite her jovial repartee. Sharing a telepathic rapport with her helped in his observations but his own empathic powers were sufficient to alert him to her discomfort. Her feelings of frustration and of pain had spiked near the end. He wondered if she'd ever admit to it but that was a concern for

later.

T'Kir activated the lift and it started to rise. Dorik cast a disapproving eye over the other grav sled.

"Pillaging archaeological sites now, Captain?"

"No more than you, Doctor." Macen countered. Although Dorik's face remained impassive, it did turn a shade greener.

---

The lift opened on the "ground" floor of the ziggurat and no one was around. T'Kir pulled Dorik over to her grav sled and ordered him to push. The Vulcan's eyebrows rose but he remained silent for a moment. When he did speak, it was addressed to Macen.

"Captain, do you typically allow your crew to manhandle whomever they please?"

"Generally." Macen replied.

Macen and T'Kir took point while the two grav sleds travelled in a line behind them. Danan took the rearguard position. They'd almost reached the entrance when a door to one of the quarters opened and two Romulans strode out.

"Go! Go!" Macen yelled and punched the lead Romulan in the face. T'Kir did a backspin kick and connected with the other Romulan's temple. He went down but was still conscious, dazed but conscious.

T'Kir's Romulan reached into his tunic and pulled out a mini disruptor. T'Kir pulled her phaser and stunned the man. Macen ducked under the other Romulans hastily thrown roundhouse. He punched the Romulan while he was overextended and moved in and wrapped his arm around the Romulan's as the Vulcanoid threw a backhand.

Macen hyperextended the Romulan's elbow and delivered a punch to his throat. The Romulan collapsed, holding his throat while he struggled for air. T'Kir backhanded Macen's arm.

"You doof! The last thing we need right now is to start a war with the Romulans!"

"It was him or me." Macen protested, "C'mon, we need to catch up with the others."

T'Kir subsided, "Okay."

They sprinted out of the ziggurat to find Danan, Dorik, and Velrik standing with Daggit and Radil.

"Let's move it." Macen urged, "We need to make it to the runabout before the Romulans know something's up."

---

There was a sudden explosion that blew a large hole in the runabout's cockpit. A tumultuous cry lifted up from the Romulan camp as dozens of Romulans streamed forth from their tents and began running towards the Federation personnel.

"I'd say they know somethin's up, Tex." T'Kir remarked dryly.

"Captain." Dorik was impossibly calm, "There is a communications array in our camp. We can contact your ship and request an extraction from there."

"Excellent!" Macen exclaimed, "Rab, Radil, we're going to be engaged in a running retreat. Cover us, but I want a zero, and I repeat, a zero percent body count."

"Affirmative." Daggit replied.

"If I have to." Radil sighed.

"All right, let's move out." Macen said as he and T'Kir formed a protective barrier between the Romulans and the Vulcans. Danan escorted the Vulcans. Behind them, Daggit's grenade launcher and Radil's phaser cannon could be heard discharging.

---

Chapter 6: Chapter 6

The Romulan advance was stymied. P'ris was unconcerned about her troops' abilities. They were all hardened Tal Shiar agents and Imperial soldiers. They had been posing as scientists for the last few weeks to allay the Vulcans' suspicions. In truth, they had been carefully monitoring the archaeologists every move in case the scientists uncovered some exotic piece of technology like the Iconian gateways.

Explosions and phaser cannon fire tore up the ground in front of her men and women. The Federation team sent to assist the Vulcans included expert marksmen with a grenade launcher and the portable cannon. P'ris had noted though, not one burst had resulted in a casualty. Even the assault in the edifice had been nonlethal. Aredin would be hoarse for a few days but he would live without a scar to show for his pains. It was time, P'ris decided, for a bold move.

"Everyone advance. Hold the line and proceed forward at a single step march." P'ris ordered through her communicator. Her troops immediately began pressing forward. As she expected, the incoming fire from the Federation personnel retreated but stayed ahead of her company's advance.

In truth, P'ris only had thirty-six soldiers on the ground. She had the resources of an entire Warbird at her disposal and could easily call down five times that many troops. At this moment, she was glad she hadn't. It was hard enough to control the "fire if fired upon" instincts of the combatants she had.

Her people were grouped twelve across, three deep. Most of the third rank was in the ziggurat or gathering heavy weapons back in camp. Three more of the third rank ran forward to catch up with the others. This gave her six in the third rank.

The new arrivals brought low yield plasma mortars with them. A fourth arrived from the ziggurat and was handed the mortar team's sensor glasses. P'ris herself was using sensor glasses to keep track of the retreating Vulcan scientists. Although the dark glasses protected the wearer's eyes from intense light, they also worked as night vision, binoculars and range finders.

Although dusk was falling P'ris' vision was as clear as noonday. Her range finder ticked off the increasing distance between her forces and Macen's party. The mortar team was now set and she decided it was time to address them.

"Your target is the space between the harassing picket and the retreating Vulcan unit." P'ris informed her fire team, "Fire at will but do not, I repeat, do not harm the Federation forces. The Imperial fleet is in no shape to repel a vengeful Starfleet strike force."

"Are you questioning the ability of our valiant fleet?" one of the mortar techs demanded.

"Our fleet is stretched too thin right now. Insurgents are wreaking havoc across the Empire and they are being aided by these so called Omicrons." P'ris hotly replied, "These same wretches have crippled a quarter of the fleet and bolstered the morale of the insurgents. We must obtain the relics that the Vulcans have absconded with. They may provide a means to counter the Omicron aggression."

"It will be done, Commander." the senior officer present vowed.

"Then commence your attack."

All three mortars spewed forth blazing balls of plasma. These arced high in the air and fell to earth between Daggit and Radil's position and Macen's party. Radil flinched but Daggit remained nonchalant as two of the plasma mortars detonated behind them. Daggit never stopped firing but his grenades began landing closer to the encroaching Romulans. Radil adjusted the power setting and the width of her phaser burst and fired into the crowd of Romulans. Four stunned Romulans fell where they'd stood.

The third mortar nearly landed atop the retreating relic team. Macen saw the approaching plasma ball descend towards them and he yelled for everyone to seek cover. He then dove atop T'Kir and formed a living shield to protect her. The plasma mortar detonated fifty metres behind the team.

The concussive blast that preceded the expanding ball of superheated gas rolled across the blain in every direction. It passed over the prone forms of Macen and T'Kir. Next it threw Danan and the Vulcans off their feet and onto the ground. The grav sleds were pushed forward as well. Fortunately they didn't tip over.

Danan covered herself as best she could. She had bare arms and legs due to her race's aversion to high temperatures. The Vulcan's trusted their Starfleet uniforms to protect them from the wall of flame that swept over them in the wake of the concussive wave.

Macen rolled off of T'Kir and checked her out. She was unscathed except for a few singed hairs. Her clothing had protected her.

Macen was fine with the exception of singed hair and mild to moderate burns on the uncovered portions of his arms. He and T'Kir rose and ran to check on the others. T'Kir checked on the Vulcans and Macen inspected Danan.

Danan's arms and legs bore burns and her hair possessed the inevitable scorching. She shuddered and gasped at the pain in her limbs. Macen called for T'Kir.

As she arrived, Macen's eyes met T'Kir's, "Can you do anything?"

"I think so." T'Kir said with as much certainty as she could muster. She placed her hands to either side of Danan's skull. T'Kir's eyes met Danan's as their minds began to merge.

---

At the mortar position, P'ris used her disruptor to backhand the weapons tech that had fired the near miss, "Idiot! I said no casualties!"

"Forgive me, Mistress." The tech cowered, "It won't happen again."

"It had better not." P'ris growled, "If you create an interstellar incident, I shall be forced to kill you."

The tech gulped and returned to his post. All three mortar platforms adjusted their range and fired again. This time, all three rounds landed close enough to rattle one's nerves but far enough away to prevent physical injury.

---

T'Kir lifted her hands and blinked. Danan let out a contented sigh. Macen looked at Danan with some bewilderment and then gave T'Kir a quizzical glance.

"Why does she look like she's just had the time of her life?"

T'Kir rose and helped Danan to her feet, "Trills don't have anything like the Vulcan healing trance, so I used a Romulan pain blocking technique. She'll temporarily associate all pain with pleasure."

"She looks like she just had an orgasm." Macen commented.

"That's the pleasure centre I tied her discomfort to." T'Kir responded.

Danan let out another contented moan and Macen shook his head, "As long as she can travel."

"She'll absolutely love moving her arms and legs right now." T'Kir replied.

"As long as you keep an eye on her to keep her from injuring herself further." Macen said in a defeated tone.

"Sure thing, Boss." T'Kir quipped then her eyes went wide, "Elements! Here comes another volley!"

Macen turned and watched the plasma balls' arc, "Relax, they going to fall perfectly centred between us and the fire team."

"But why?" T'Kir asked as the plasma rounds detonated exactly where Macen had predicted.

"P'ris is running the same gambit we are. She's trying separate us so that she can impede our progress and overrun Rab and Radil." Macen explained.

"Clever bitch." T'Kir muttered.

Macen shrugged, "It's the only tactic that makes sense. Any other course of action will either end in failure on her part or create an interstellar incident."

"Like Radil firing into the crowd?" T'Kir asked.

Macen turned and saw Radil firing volleys into the Romulan ranks, "Oh, hell." He slapped his comm badge, "Radil, cease fire. Do not, and I can't stress this enough, do not fire into the Romulan ranks."

"Oh, all right." Radil grumbled.

"Now, let's get this procession on the move again." Macen said and then he went over to the Vulcans and got them to gingerly test the grav sled controls' temperature. By wrapping their uniform jacket sleeves over their hands, they were able to grasp the heated control boxes. T'Kir gathered up Danan and got her marching towards the archaeological campsite.

---

P'ris ripped off her sensor glasses, "Damn them!"

"Our ploy has failed mistress." The senior weapons tech reported, "The enemy is still proceeding to their camp despite the three warning volleys we have unleashed."

"I can see that you fool." P'ris snapped, "If you don't have a positive contribution to make, hold your tongue or I shall remove it for you."

"Commander," one of the subordinate techs cautiously spoke, "would it not be wise to strike the enemy now before they reach their camp?"

"No." P'ris answered firmly, "Despite our losses to the stun blasts of the enemy, we still outnumber them two to one. We shall overrun their rearguard. It is only a matter of time. They have nowhere to retreat except the stone city. They cannot elude us there. We shall yet be victorious."

"What about our mortar fire, Commander?" The senior tech enquired.

"Cease fire and join your comrades on the line."

The techs all exchanged worried looks but obeyed P'ris' order.

---

Macen's group reached the Starfleet expedition's tents. Danan was practically out of her head with blissful spasms. Dorik and Velrik each looked as harried as Macen and T'Kir felt. The couple's outward composure remained as unflappable as it had in the ziggurat's bowels.

"Commander," Macen addressed Doric, "where is your transmitter?"

"In the command tent." Doric answered, "Come, follow me."

Doric pushed the grav sled onward. Velrik and the SID team members followed suit. The command tent was the largest and was located in the centre of the camp. Inside, were tables filled with artefacts and portable mainframes. Several high resolution scanners and holocameras were present as well. In the corner of the tent, located under a table, was a comm unit.

"Commander, now would be a good time to recall your personnel." Macen advised.

"And why is this?" Doric asked calmly.

"I intend to extract your personnel when we withdraw from this sphere." Macen explained.

"That would leave our research incomplete." Doric replied.

"If I were to leave your people behind, they would be constantly harassed by the Tal Shiar forces encamped on the other side of the ziggurat." Macen described, "They wouldn't be allowed to finish their investigations."

"How can you be so certain that all of the Romulan visitors are Tal Shiar agents?" Doric asked.

"We fought with two of their so called 'scientists'. They were armed and instinctively responded to force. That's the hallmark of a soldier or security agent, not a scientist."

"Yet you appear to be both." Dorik countered.

"I'm the exception to most rules." Macen replied and then shrugged, "Besides, my days as a scientist ended upon entering Starfleet."

"Curious." Dorik mused, "Starfleet's primary aims are exploration and the quest for knowledge. Yet you purport that this same organisation diverted you from those pursuits."

"Not entirely." Macen rebutted, "Starfleet Intelligence seeks all the information it can acquire on every one of the myriad races The Federation has contact with. If it weren't for the research involved in that process, I would have left Starfleet Intelligence a long time ago."

"Yet you are now a covert operative and an investigator for the SID. A strange circumstance for a 'mere' analyst."

Macen broke into a lopsided smile, "We all have a past. Some just have more twists and turns than others."

"I find that answer most unsatisfactory." Doric admitted.

Macen shrugged, "Some things are best left unrevealed. Just appreciate the mystery."

A human would have frowned or shrugged in the face of futility. Dorik merely changed the topic as if the previous conversation had not occurred, "Very well, Captain. I shall issue a recall and withdrawal order to my compatriots."

"Thank you." Macen bowed his head slightly. Next he joined T'Kir beside the comm unit, "Is she fired up?"

"Just waiting for your illustrious presence." T'Kir remarked.

"Watch it, smart ass." Macen warned.

"Oh, don't be a wanker." T'Kir chastised him.

Macen gave her a sidelong glance but refrained from commenting. Instead he activated the comm unit and began speaking.

---

Radil couldn't believe it. She'd always known that Daggit became a veritable killing machine when in combat, but she'd never realised how steely his nerves became as well. Expanding balls of flame had erupted behind Daggit and he'd never flinched. Even when Radil herself was tempted to dive for cover, Daggit stayed steadfast, calmly firing at the enemy as though nothing but rain were falling.

It made her realise how much she'd missed Kort's company over the last few weeks. They'd united for the volleyball game but otherwise Radil had kept her distance. She couldn't even remember why she was mad in the first place. It was something she needed to work on. She was good at fighting but terrible at long term commitment.

She supposed that was one of the reasons that becoming a mercenary originally appealed to her. A mercenary's commitment was short term. Once the money ran out or the singular objective was achieved you were off finding another contract. Her five years with Macen's crew were the longest she'd stayed with anyone in a very long time. Only her stint with the Bajoran Resistance surpassed it.

The truth of the matter was that she wanted her relationship with Kort to stabilise. And, she was forced to admit, a large part of the recent turbulence was her doing. Things had progressed further than she ever taken an affair before. The idea of settling down with one person for the rest of her life was daunting at best.

Radil's entire life was a saga of loss. The idea of devoting one's heart to a single individual and then losing that individual was almost more than she could bear. Realistically, Radil was far more likely to expire than Kort was due to their relative roles. Still it was a concept that she found paralysing.

Snap out of it girl. Radil mentally berated herself, Keep your mind on the mission or you really will get killed.

In the meantime, Daggit took the opportunity to eject the magazine of his grenade launcher and put in a fresh clip. As soon as he completed this task he resumed firing. The Romulan line had surged forward during Daggit's reloading and Radil's reverie.

"Are you all right?" Daggit called out.

"I'm fine." Radil lied as she resumed firing.

"I think we should double time it to the encampment." Daggit suggested, "We can pick them off from there until our extraction arrives."

"Sounds good to me." Radil shouted back.

"Then hold on." Daggit replied, "When I stop firing make a break for it."

Without waiting for a reply, Daggit unleashed a rapid fire salvo. The grenades were each placed far more closely than any previous barrage. Romulans across the line dove for cover as the ground in front of them lifted into the air and rained down upon them. The grenades' energy discharge bowled over the second rank. P'ris had to charge forward and stand before her troops in order to restrain their natural inclination to return fire.

---

"Listen to me," P'ris shouted in order to be heard over the general clamour, "our opponents are running from us. Note that I did not say enemies. We are not at war and Elements preserve us, we will not go to war because of an incident on a backwater world outside of the Empire. We are guests in this region of space. We are struggling to 'convince' the Vulcans into disclosing what they have discovered and to share whatever benefits the Federation may derive from it."

P'ris' gaze swept the ranks of Romulan soldiers arrayed before her, "We will be victorious. We shall achieve this victory without resorting to killing the Federation personnel opposing our collective will. The Praetor assigned us to this mission with the expectation that it would be a peaceful endeavour. We shall not disappoint."

P'ris joined the first rank of troops, "Shall we press on towards victory?"

"Yes!" came the resounding cry.

"Shall we do so without bloodshed?"

"Yes." there was less enthusiasm this time but all spoke as one.

"Then follow me!" P'ris cried and charged forward. Like their barbaric ancestors before them, the Romulans surged forth with a deafening cry.

---

Daggit and Radil hurried to the Starfleet encampment laid out beside the ziggurat. Radil ran as best as she could while lugging around the powerpack and emitter of the portable phaser cannon she wore. Daggit would occasionally run backwards to inspect what gains the Romulans had made. As the Romulan war cry arose, Daggit turned back towards the camp and yelled out to Radil.

"Hurry Jenrya. They're coming on strong."

"Hurry he says." Radil grunted, feeling the drag on the right side of her body where the emitter hung from a shoulder strap. At least it's strapped to my hip so its not swinging everywhere. Radil consoled herself.

Even though it felt like an eternity, it only took seven minutes to reach the camp's perimeter. Daggit immediately swung around and began discharging grenades at the advancing Romulan horde. Explosions threw most of the leading Romulan pursuers to the ground. P'ris emerged from the dust and smoke of the explosions.

She addressed the enraged Romulan troops, "You see? They resort to delaying tactics and running away. Do not grant them the martyrdom they seek. Hold the line, stop for nothing and we will walk over these mites that so annoy us."

There was a general tumult of agreement and P'ris smiled, "Very well, my loyal compatriots, let us finish this!" The gathered Romulans stepped forward as a single line and bore down on the Vulcan camp.

---

Inside the command tent, Macen had secured a connection with the Obsidian's bridge, "Shannon? What other command officers are present on the bridge?"

Forger made a cursory glance around the bridge, "Commander Riker and Lieutenant Grace are present as well."

"Forget the military parlance crap." Macen bit back, "I'm formally doing away with all that nonsense right here and now. We don't need it and never have."

"All…all right." Forger stammered, "What…I mean why…"

"How can we help you?" Riker finished for her.

"Tom, I need an extraction team. We're under attack by the Romulans down here and we need to evacuate the Starfleet team."

"I'm on it." Riker assured him.

"See you then." Macen signed off and cut the circuit.

Riker turned to Grace, "Page Ceryx and inform him that he needs to relieve you. Then call Rhiann and tell her to join you in the auxiliary shuttlebay."

"Two Type 9 shuttles don't have the passenger room for sixteen people." Grace pointed out.

"The shuttles are just flying shotgun." Riker explained, "I'll be flying the Corsair in. She has plenty of passenger room."

Grace nodded, "This is crazy enough to work."

"Have you ever known anything relating to this group to be sane?" Riker asked.

Grace smiled and shook her head, "I'll make those calls now."

"Good girl." Riker nodded, wearing a grudging answering grin of his own. His months away from the team, and Grace's decision to become truly human, had transformed his opinion of her. She was far more likeable and trustworthy when she didn't have the ability to rewrite your memory or transform you into a little cube.

She's actually a remarkable young woman. Riker thought to himself, She'll have an amazing career as long as she doesn't revert back to her secretive ways.

---

P'ris' comm unit beeped and she drew her wrist up and tapped its activation stud, "P'ris here."

"Donatra." The Warbird's commander identified herself, "We've intercepted a transmission from the surface to the Federation ship in orbit."

"Were you able to decipher it?" P'ris enquired.

"Negative. They employed a new encryption algorithm. It was far more advanced than anything we've seen thus far." Donatra revealed.

"T'Kir." P'ris growled then shook her head, "Launch two fighters and have them patrol the skies above our position. The Federation team will try to extract the scientists and their relics. We cannot allow this."

"What rules of engagement do my fighter crews have?"

P'ris pursed her lips in concentration, "Their orders are to force the Federation shuttlecraft to land without damaging them. They can defend themselves if fired upon but only if they are directly hit."

"That's rather…restrictive." Donatra commented.

"Remember the goodwill Picard generated by defeating Shinzon?" P'ris asked, "Do you wish to kill that sentiment over a few potentially worthless trinkets on a backwater world?"

"No, I guess not." Donatra admitted, "Your orders will be relayed to the flight crews. Do wish to have more fighters on stand-by?"

"No." P'ris replied, "Two should suffice. The Valdore can deal directly with any unexpected surprises."

"The Obsidian and the Valdore are currently facing directly at one another." Donatra described, "That means the primary offensive systems of both vessels are currently aimed at each other."

"The Starfleet team on the ground has already demonstrated an aversion to provoking a war. I do not believe your ship faces any threat." P'ris relayed.

"Even if I did face a hostile ship, the Valdore outclasses the Obsidian. The discrepancy is so great as to create the impression of suicidal impulses accompanying any attack on this vessel." Donatra said confidently.

"Remember, you thought that about a similar vessel and these officers before." P'ris reminded her shipboard counterpart.

"That was the past." Donatra sniffed, "I have a superior vessel and our intelligence indicates that Hannah Grace no longer possesses her thrice damned 'Attuner'."

"Resolve and ingenuity are the equal to exotic technology." P'ris warned, "Macen possesses both. If he returns to his vessel, you will face a demon."

"Nonsense." Donatra rebutted, "My crew is comprised of veterans of the Imperial fleet. We are ready for any challenge."

"I hope your boastful confidence is warranted Commander." P'ris said sceptically.

"You will see, Commander." Donatra replied without a trace of doubt, "We shall prevail and the Empire will be rewarded through our efforts."

"I pray you are right." P'ris remarked, "I fear for the consequences if you are proven wrong."

---

Chapter 7: Chapter 7

The main shuttlebay's flight crew vacated the Corsair's interior and the external crew finished their inspection of the runabout's warp nacelles, phaser banks, shield emitters and microtorpedo launchers. Satisfied that his personnel had done their job, the crew chief gave Riker a thumbs up. Riker approached the runabout's main hatch and patted the Corsair's hull.

"Thanks, Chief." Riker acknowledged her crew's efforts, "I'll try and bring her back in one piece."

"Just bring the Captain and the rest back and I'll call it even." the Chief told him.

Riker tapped his comm badge, "Riker to Grace."

"Grace here."

"Is Rhiann with you?"

"As requested." Grace replied, "Our shuttles just passed their inspections and we're boarding them now."

"Good. I'm boarding the Corsair now. I'll be ready to launch in a few minutes." Riker informed Grace, "Launch as soon as you get clearance from your bay controller."

"See you out there." Grace signed off.

Riker shook his head as he boarded the Corsair. Grace was an enigma he decided. Now that she was partially rehabilitated, she was transforming herself into a vibrant young woman. In fact, in many ways she reminded Riker of Jamie Kirk.

As he sat down at the CONN he shook himself. That wasn't a train of thought that he wanted to pursue. Jamie's death was still an open wound with him. Time was dulling the sharpness of the pain but he knew that he would always miss her.

The flight crew had activated all of the Corsair's systems. Riker merely needed to pilot the craft out of the shuttlebay. He activated the comm channel linked to bay control and waited for permission to disembark. The comm chatter indicated that the auxiliary bay was set to launch first so Riker sat back and awaited his turn.

---

Grace eagerly watched as the shuttle bay door opened. She rested her hand on the shuttle's flight and speed controls. Grace was flying the Eclipse while Rhiann helmed the Equinox. The rear blast shield rose behind the Eclipse and locked into place.

Grace received the preflight authorisation and she activated the antigrav and the shuttle floated above the deck. Next she received the launch orders and she pushed the impulse speed controls to maximum. Like a crossbow bolt the Eclipse launched out of the bay once she was released.

The forward blast shield descended back into the deck even as the rear blast shield lifted behind the Equinox. Rhiann followed the same process as Grace and achieved the same results. The Equinox roared out of the bay.

---

Riker tensed as the bay doors opened in the main shuttlebay. Without waiting for orders, he lifted the corsair off the deck. Riker waited for the blast shield to rise into place. The bay controller authorised the launch and Riker pushed the runabout for all it was worth.

The Corsair leapt into space and proceeded to the orbital position the two shuttles had assumed when the Obsidian's Tactical 2nd commed the planetbound flight, "Be advised Rescue Group, the Valdore has launched two Scorpion-class fighters. They are headed for the planet and will arrive ahead of you if you proceed with a normal reentry sequence."

Riker toggled the comm, "Thank you Obsidian, we stand advised." Riker shifted subspace frequencies and commed the two shuttles while he worked up a flight plan, "Riker to Rescue Two and Rescue Three. I'm transmitting a new flightplan. Be prepared to implement it in one minute."

"Rescue One, be advised, we'll have to use our shields or we'll burn up in the reentry. Even then, we'll overload the shields halfway through." Grace expressed her concerns.

"I'm aware of that. I'm also aware that the Romulans know we're coming. The circuit breakers on our shields will reset before the Scorpions reach us, so we won't be unprotected." Riker replied, "If you have any more objections, note them in your log later. For now, this is a direct order. Implement the revised flight plan…now!"

---

The three ships dove into the atmosphere as one. They were aimed directly at the planet's surface. Within seconds, a ball of flame enveloped the support craft. They continued like this for several minutes before the computer advised the pilots that their shields were collapsing. Riker maintained his course, with the shuttles in tow, for several more minutes. As the shields neared catastrophic failure, Riker commed the two shuttles.

"Adjust 45 degrees on the y-axis"

The three ships trimmed out just as their shields collapsed. They flew through balls of superheated gases and soon their hulls began to glow and fire began to lick at the leading edges of the vessels. Despite the environmental settings of the Federation craft automatically cooling the interior of the runabout and the shuttles, the temperatures rose until all three pilots were basked in a sheen of sweat.

---

Grace was having the time of her life. She loved plummeting descents. This is why she enjoyed orbital skydiving. The thrill of teetering on the very edge of being out of control was alluring to her.

Her earlier expression of concern had been for Riker and Rhiann's sake. Although Riker was reputed to be an excellent pilot, she'd never seen him in action. On the other hand, she knew Rhiann's capabilities. The Andorian was a competent starship pilot but she wasn't spectacular. Her performance in a shuttle was even less inspiring.

Without being boastful, Grace knew she was easily among a handful of the best pilots in the Federation. Her enhanced reflexes and paranormal hand-eye coordination left most pilots feeling inadequate in comparison. It wasn't pride or an overinflated ego that spawned Grace's confidence in her abilities. Hard won experience drove Grace's faith in herself.

---

The three Federation vehicles were swiftly approaching the treetop canopy of the jungle. Riker ordered another adjustment of their course and the craft trimmed out and flew a level course. According to their sensors the Scorpions were several hundred kilometres behind them. They were, however, closing the distance.

"Rescue One," Grace transmitted, "Requesting permission for Rescue Three and myself to detach and run interference."

"Permission granted." Riker responded, "Happy hunting and remember, no casualties."

"Roger." Grace replied, "Good luck with the extraction."

"I won't need it." Riker commented, "The Romulans will."

---

Grace smiled and signalled Rhiann. They tied their comms together and as the Scorpions closed to one hundred kilometres they fired their braking thrusters. The two craft slowed and the Corsair left them behind. As the Romulan fighters neared, Grace and Rhiann began accelerating. Although they'd doubled their speed the attack craft passed them and kept in pursuit of the runabout.

Grace and Rhiann went to maximum impulse and began to slowly close the distance between themselves and the two racing fighter craft. The two Scorpions were more manoeuvrable but the Type-9 shuttles were faster. Unfortunately, the fighters were more heavily armed and shielded. In an engagement, the Romulan fighters held all the trump cards except speed.

Grace commed Rhiann, "Rescue Three, prepare to fire. Follow my lead and commence with a warning shot."

"Acknowledged Rescue Two." came the Andorian's reply.

Grace fired a beam ten metres above her target. At first there was no response, then the dorsal mounted disruptor cannon swung around and locked on. The other fighter followed his comrade's example despite the fact that Rhiann hadn't fired yet. Grace dove underneath the fighter, clear of the cannon's weapons.

The Scorpion fighter wasn't a Romulan design. It had been designed, developed and deployed by the Remans. In a gesture of reconciliation following Shinzon's coup d'état, the new Romulan Praetor had opened the Romulan fleet to Reman recruits. Although racial tensions remained, the doors of equality were slowly opening.

The Remans though had an even more heightened warrior code than their Romulan cousins. Despite their orders to the contrary the slightest provocation was interpreted as an attack. No Reman worthy of his name would allow a threatening challenge to remain unanswered.

Rhiann followed Grace and took up position underneath the Reman craft. Grace commed Macen, "Captain, this is Grace. We have been engaged by the Romulan attack craft. Requesting permission to return fire!"

Macen winced as Grace's voice came over his comm badge's speaker, "Permission granted. Hannah, try to bring them down intact."

"Roger that." Grace replied and cut the circuit.

---

"Damn it." Macen said to T'Kir, "This is what I've been trying to avoid."

"Too late now." T'Kir shrugged, "We'd better evacuate this tent though. We stand a better chance if we're in the open and moving between the tents."

"Good thinking." Macen agreed, "Get the others ready to move. We'll leave in another few minutes."

"Right." T'Kir replied and bustled off.

Macen tapped his comm badge, "Rab, do you read me?"

"Loud and clear." Daggit said. In the background, explosions could be heard.

"Hannah just engaged the Romulans' air support." Macen informed him, "Expect a reprisal."

"Permission to engage?"

"Stun as many as you'd like." Macen conceded.

"About time." Daggit remarked and closed the circuit.

No sooner had Daggit closed the comm line then Riker hailed Macen, "Brin, I'm coming in and I'm coming in hot."

"Good." Macen replied, "We'll be standing by. And if you could, do something about a small horde of Romulans encroaching on our position."

"Consider it done."

---

As the circuit went dead, Macen considered that Daggit might be upset that his "fun" was cut short but Macen considered the risk worth the reward. He opened the comm beacon's access panel, revealing the computerised "brain" of the unit and pulled his phaser free of its holster. Macen took aim and then fired into the isolinear innards of the comm array's control panels, frequency regulators and encryption ciphers. The shattered and irreparable fragments of the isolinear chips fell to the base of the unit.

Satisfied, Macen closed the hatch and turned towards the computers lying about, "T'Kir, wipe their network and individual memories clean."

"No problem." she said and cracked her knuckles. Sitting down before one of the terminals, she perused the local network and secured the doorway to Starfleet's mainframes. With this done, she began composing line code.

"I hope you've backed everything up with Starfleet's xenoarchaeology department." Macen said to Dorik.

"Of course we have." Dorik replied without any trace of pride or indignation.

Vulcans. Macen mentally sighed and then turned to check on his rather more volatile Vulcan, "Are you almost done?"

With a flourish, she inputted a final series of commands, "You betcha."

All the screens of the various computers scattered across the work areas of the tent went dark. Smoke began to issue forth from the cases and the mainframe server billowed smoke. The entire area smelled of burnt circuitry and fused isolinear crystals.

"Yeeesss!" T'Kir closed her fist and swept her elbow in towards her hip, "I not only managed to erase the individual and collective memories, I also initiated a feedback loop that fried the internal workings, including the subspace transceivers.

Macen walked over to T'Kir and gave her a peck on the forehead, "Good work. Now its time to leave."

Dorik watched this exchange and remarked, "Decadence."

"Wait till we're aboard ship." T'Kir laughed, "Then I'll show you decadence."

Dorik refrained from comment and instead directed the recently arrived archaeologists to take hold of the grav sleds and to follow Macen and his team. Danan was still out of her mind with inverted pain. T'Kir took her by the arm and led her out of the tent. Macen followed, keeping close to the captured relics and the Vulcan scientists.

---

P'ris received a hail from the Reman pilots of the Romulan fighter craft, "What is it?" she shouted to be heard above Daggit's grenades detonating. Suddenly there was a lull in the Federation forces' barrage.

"Mistress, we have come under attack." The Reman flight leader reported, "We have engaged the enemy."

P'ris cut the connection and violently swore. She pulled her disruptor free and began issuing orders to her troops.

"Prepare to engage the Federation forces." she held her voice level despite the torrent of emotions coursing through her, "Try to refrain from killing any of them. I want living prisoners."

The assorted Romulans drew their pistols or unslung their rifles. In their fervour, they failed to notice that Daggit and Radil were now prone or down on one knee. Daggit had cast his grenade launcher aside and had unslung his phaser rifle. From a prone position, he began sniping at the Romulan line.

Radil fired one volley after another at the assembled Romulans. The Romulan line fell apart. Romulan soldiers scattered across the field and began returning fire. The conscious members of the first rank dropped to the ground and fought Daggit and Radil on their own terms.

A group of six Romulans skirted past Radil and hurriedly began searching the tent city erected by the Vulcans. Their acute hearing honed in on the infrequent whispers of Macen's group. The Romulans emerged from the tents directly in front of the Federation forces' way.

Wearing a daredevil smile, T'Kir released Danan's elbow and charged the Romulans. The Romulans, all male, grinned indulgently at this futile effort. Their smug expressions lasted until T'Kir delivered a backspin kick to a Romulan head. He hit the ground unconscious.

Another Romulan threw a punch at T'Kir. She deftly blocked it and then punched him in the throat. He went down, gagging as his airway rapidly closed.

A third Romulan grabbed T'Kir from behind. A fourth Romulan Strode forward the strike her. She kicked him underneath the chin. As he staggered backwards, T'Kir swung her leg backwards, reaching over her back, and kicked the third Romulan in the back of his head.

"Shouldn't you assist her?" Dorik asked Macen.

Macen shook his head, wearing a broad smile, "Nah. It'd just break her rhythm."

"Madness." Dorik commented.

"If only you knew the half of it." Macen retorted.

Dorik subsided as T'Kir delivered another kick to the fourth Romulan's head, knocking him out. As yet another Romulan tried to grab T'Kir from behind, she threw and elbow jab into his nose. Green blood spurted forth from the injured members. T'Kir turned and delivered an open palm strike to the man's nose. He went down in a snivelling heap.

T'Kir whirled and faced the remaining Romulan. He looked nervous. T'Kir wore a wild expression and motioned for him to come forward. He broke and ran back towards the Romulan line.

"Impressive, eh?" Macen asked Dorik.

"I must reluctantly admit that the display hearkened back to the days of Vulcan's martial past." Dorik's reply was met with a sceptical look from Macen, "I readily admit that I am also impressed by her unarmed defensive skills."

T'Kir returned to the group absolutely beaming. Macen returned her smile and then ordered the group to move out. In the distance, the rumble of an impulse engine in an atmospheric environment could be heard.

---

The Corsair appeared on the horizon and rapidly closed on the ziggurat. She visibly began slowing and eventually ended up in a hover between the Federation and Romulan forces. The runabout's twin phasers fired and carved a trench between the Imperial troops and the Starfleet personnel. Riker turned the ship and landed her with the primary hatch pointed away from the Romulans.

Daggit and Radil went to opposite lengthways ends of the Runabout and began laying down cover fire. Macen and the others emerged from the maze of tents. Urged onward by Macen, the Vulcans double-timed it to the Corsair. T'Kir brought up the rear, leading Danan. The Trill's pleasure centres had reached a saturation point and she was once again beginning to feel the natural effects of her burns.

The runabout's phasers had bisected the clearing and the Romulans were forced to leap into the trench in order to advance. While climbing out of the micro-chasm, the Romulan soldiers were easy prey for Daggit and Radil. A few of the Romulans had remained behind to lay down suppressive fire. Unfortunately, they had swiftly fallen to Radil's wide beam stun blasts.

Once the Vulcans, T'Kir and Danan were aboard and the relics stowed away, Macen called out to Daggit and Radil to cease fire and join the others aboard the runabout. As Radil and Daggit began running for the boarding hatch, a sound of high speed wind scraping metal began screaming overhead. In a near blink of an eye, the two Scorpion fighters and the Type-9 shuttles raced by overhead. The fighters were rolling, trying to acquire a shot at the shuttles. The shuttles rolled with the fighters and constantly fired at the Scorpions' underbellies.

This acrobatic feat required Grace and Rhiann to fly inverted in relation to the Romulan ships. The opposing fighters tried to shoot their partner's tormentor as they passed in and out of sight. On several occasions, the Reman gunners missed the shuttles entirely and struck their own brethren. The blows to the Romulan shields served the Federation shuttles' needs.

---

Grace fired yet another salvo at the Scorpion's underbelly and she watched as the ventral shields collapsed. Wearing a feral smile, Grace fired one phaser burst after another at the fighter's drive section. A small explosion erupted out of the rear of the craft and it began to descend. It swiftly began to spiral and the fighter's attitude thrusters began to fire. Soon it trimmed out and continued it's descent into the jungle.

Grace shifted her focus to Rhiann's opponent. Rhiann had been shot several more times than Grace and her shields were threatening to fail. Grace flew up behind Rhiann's shuttle and she instructed the other pilot to ascend as swiftly as she could manage. As Rhiann broke and climbed, the Remans levelled out their craft and began to fire at the fleeing shuttle.

Grace began her assault on the remaining Scorpion and the Remans ceased firing on Rhiann's shuttle. The Reman pilot tried to pull a Crazy Ivan. He cut his primary drive and used his manoeuvring thrusters to swing around. Unfortunately for the Reman, Grace had anticipated such a move for some time now.

Grace cut her impulse engine and fired her thrusters. She brought her nose straight up and fired at point blank range at the fighter's ventral section. As the Romulan ship reversed course rolled over and followed them, inverted, as they accelerated in the opposite direction. Next, the fighter trimmed out with the fighter "upright' and the Federation shuttle "upside down" and underneath. The Remans began to descend, trying to force Grace into the jungle canopy.

Fortunately for Grace, the Scorpion's ventral shields failed halfway to the tree line. Once again, she exacted a savage toll from the Remans' engines. The Romulan fighter's descent accelerated and Grace fell behind and started her ascent towards orbit.

---

Back at the ziggurat, the Corsair began its ascent. The Romulans on the ground fired in futility at the runabout trying penetrate its shields and bring it down. Riker manned the helm. T'Kir had OPS. Macen covered the Sciences station. Daggit worked Tactical. Radil was in the runabout's Medical modules tending to Danan's injuries.

Despite Radil's extensive knowledge of how to treat battlefield wounds, her expertise regarding plasma burns was limited. She stabilised Danan and prayed that would suffice. She then went to the cockpit and sprayed a salve across Macen's burns.

"Thanks Jenrya." Macen said gratefully, "Could you check on our Vulcan guests?"

"Do I have to?" Radil grumped.

"They don't bite." Macen scolded.

"No, they just bore you to tears." Radil replied with a sigh and trudged off towards the crew's lounge. The relics were stored in the runabout's detention cell. The Vulcan Starfleet officers placidly sat by in the lounge awaiting their ultimate fate.

---

The runabout swiftly achieved orbit. Once in orbit, Riker guided the miniature starship towards the Obsidian. Rhiann had already been tractored into the auxiliary bay and Grace was halfway into the bay. As per standard procedure, she was being tractored in backwards in order to facilitate a rapid launch.

Riker brought the Corsair about while the auxiliary bay closed. The primary bay doors opened and the bay's tractor beam took hold of the runabout and began dragging it in. As they were being brought into the starship's bosom, Macen reported the results of his sensor sweep.

"The Valdore's shields are up and her weapons are hot."

Riker swivelled his chair around to face Macen, "Will Donatra fire?"

"She will if she's provoked." Macen confirmed, "So we have to figure out a way to break orbit without engaging a Romulan Warbird."

"I have faith in you." Riker remarked with a grin, "You'll think of something."

Macen's right eyebrow rose, "I could make it your call."

Riker shook his head, "But you won't."

---

The bay had cycled the air back into the space and the bay controller signalled the runabout's CONN that it was safe to disembark. Riker released the primary hatch and Kort and two medtechs rushed into the runabout. One of the medtechs carried a collapsible litter.

"Who the hell called Sickbay?" Macen wondered.

"I did." Radil announced as she entered the cockpit. She placed her fists on her hips, "Did I do wrong?"

Macen shook his head, "Of course not. I just wish I'd done it sooner rather than waiting for us to dock."

"You've been preoccupied." Radil shrugged, "Despite your own expectations, you can't manage to do everything."

T'Kir shot him an expectant look and Macen broke into a sheepish grin, "Thanks Jenrya."

"Anytime, Boss."

Kort and the medtechs exited the infirmary carrying Danan on the litter. Kort cast a lingering glance Radil's way and she coloured slightly. T'Kir grinned.

"That looks like an interesting future conversation. I didn't even read his mind and I can tell reconciliation is on his mind."

Although Radil's heart beat a little faster, she maintained her gruff expression. Macen rose from his position and stepped through the hatch. The cockpit crew joined him in the shuttlebay.

"Jenrya, escort the Vulcans to the science labs." Macen ordered, "Rab, Tom and T'Kir, you're with me." As Macen ran out of the shuttlebay, he tapped his comm badge, "Macen to Forger."

"Forger here." she replied, "I don't know what you did down there but the Romulans are pissed."

"So am I." Macen remarked, "They'll get over it."

"Yeah, but…"

"I need you to break orbit and get the ship moving in a slingshot manoeuvre around the planet." Macen instructed.

"Yeah, but…"

"We'll be in the bridge in under five minutes. Have the ship moving by then." Macen ordered.

"Yeah, but…"

"Macen out."

---

As the quartet stepped into the turbolift, Riker turned to Macen, "Shannon sounds seriously rattled."

"She'd better get over it." Macen replied sternly, "She's the ship's XO. She needs to get used to acting on her own in my absence."

"Is this an ongoing problem?"

"More of an ongoing tendency." Macen explained, "Shannon feels overwhelmed by her recent promotion. I've been hoping she'd grow into the job but the plain truth is that she may not be seasoned enough for her position."

Riker seemed to mull this over as the turbolift doors opened. The bridge was in chaos. Grace was at the helm with Rhiann standing by next to her. The various Gamma shift officers were in a full fledged panic and Forger was standing amidst it all, staring vacantly at the viewscreen's image of a Romulan Warbird.

"Well, this is going to be fun." Macen muttered in disgust.

---

Chapter 8: Chapter 8

"Commander Forger, you stand relieved." Macen pronounced as he strode onto the Obsidian's bridge.

Forger looked as though she'd been slapped across the face. For a moment, she visibly struggled with her emotions. Gathering the tattered remnants of her dignity and pride, she briskly walked to the turbolift. As its doors closed, Macen began issuing orders.

"All relief officers stand by. You'll be needed in a moment." Turning to Daggit, he continued, "Rab prepare to fire two torpedoes at the Valdore. I want you to use the phasers to detonate them 500 metres off their forward shields."

"Do you have any idea how difficult that kind of precision is?" Daggit asked with a pained expression.

"I have faith in you." Macen clapped him on the shoulder then proceeded to the helm, "Hannah, I want you to break orbit the moment Rab fires off the torpedoes. Accelerate to maximum impulse and take us over the top of the Valdore. You'll continue our rotation around Harbinger and use the planet's gravity well to set up a slingshot manoeuvre. When we approach the vector for DS9, release us from orbit. When we clear the planet, go to warp 6."

Grace grinned, "I like it."

"Thought you might." Macen walked back to the command chair but he didn't sit down. Instead he faced T'Kir, "Feed Omicron's coordinates to the helm. Hannah, when you get the coordinates, adjust our course and proceed to the Omicron homeworld."

"Is that smart?" Grace asked, "Last time, they kicked our ass without trying. My people won't intervene this time."

"I'm aware of that." Macen informed her, "I'm also aware of the little countermeasure to their ion blasts that we picked up on the surface."

Grace's grin broadened into a bright smile, "Who wants to live forever anyway?"

"Not me." Macen replied, "I want to find out what the next plane of existence is."

"You've already died once." Grace pointed out, "Shouldn't you already know?"

Macen wore a rueful, lopsided grin, "It's a long story. Ask T'Kir about it sometime."

"I already have." Grace lamented, "She said to ask you."

Macen shrugged, "There you have it."

Grace grumbled to herself as she began laying in the coordinates to Deep Space 9. T'Kir had successfully uploaded the Herzet files to the Obsidian's mainframe. The translation matrix was loaded as well. She then began searching the database. Contained within the quarantined folder she'd created was the stellar cartographical survey containing Omicron's location.

"Rab, are you ready?" Macen asked.

"Affirmative."

"How positive are you that this will work?"

"I give it a 33.39% chance of succeeding." Daggit replied.

"Wonderful." Macen muttered, "We're going to start a war."

"Captain," Daggit interrupted Macen's gloomy reflection, 'the Valdore is hailing. Commander Donatra sounds upset."

"Put it on screen." Macen said and retook his seat. Riker gave him a wry grin from the Exec's seat.

"Captain." Donatra briskly nodded, "I see you have safely made it back aboard your vessel."

"Of course." Macen said with confidence not boastfulness, "My crew performed admirably despite the reckless hostility displayed by your fighter crews."

"My crews were fired upon." Donatra asserted, "They returned fire as a purely defensive measure."

"Not according to our sensor logs." Macen replied, "T'Kir, have we downloaded the Eclipse and Equinox sensor logs yet?"

"Yes, but I…"

"Please upload copies to Commander Donatra."

T'Kir shrugged, "Oookay."

What's your deal? Macen mentally queried T'Kir.

Nothing. T'Kir thought back, No deal here.

Liar, Macen telepathically scolded, What aren't you telling me.

T'Kir mentally sighed, I haven't reviewed the logs. I don't know who fired first.

You don't trust Hannah's word? Macen asked.

Yes, I do…on most things. T'Kir clarified, I'm just not sure about this.

What can you be sure about? Macen thought back.

Hannah would never intentionally disobey orders, T'Kir explained, not unless she felt she was receiving contradictory orders from an even higher authority.

Who would be her higher authority?

T'Kir shrugged and thoughtcast back at Macen, It was Section 31 and then it was the trump card beyond trump cards: the Kelvan Expeditionary Forces.

Macen had to concede that T'Kir had made a valid point. As unlikely as it seemed at this point, Grace could have received orders from a second party that prompted to ignite an interstellar incident. Her past was certainly rife with such occurrences and conflicted loyalties. Although Section 31 and the Kelvans were off her instructional menu, Grace could have easily received a comm message from a Starfleet admiral with an axe to grind. Macen could easily name a half dozen admirals with grudges against the Romulans, the SID, or himself.

Remaining impassive for the viewer's imager, Macen thought back to T'Kir, Send the data. We'll pick up whatever pieces there are.

Macen knew T'Kir was still apprehensive when she transmitted the logs but she transmitted them despite her misgivings. On the viewer, Donatra angled a monitor for easier reading. She frowned as she reviewed the visual and sensor logs. When she'd reviewed the information from both shuttles she pushed the monitor away and faced the imager.

"These are obvious forgeries." she pronounced, "Our forces were forbidden to fire unless they were directly attacked. Therefore, these logs represent an obvious attempt to falsely implicate the Empire when the fault lies with the Federation."

"No one's implicating anyone of anything." Macen countered, "What's occurred here is a tremendous mistake. A mistake that could have been avoided if there had been more trust between the Romulan and Starfleet ground forces. The Empire and the Federation recently reached a turning point in their relations. I refuse to let that goodwill die here and now."

"If you wish to make amends surrender the artefacts you retrieved from the surface." Donatra demanded.

"I'm more than willing to provide your government with any pertinent facts derived from our discoveries but I refuse to relinquish control of the artefacts." Macen argued, "If you wish to place scientific observers aboard my ship, I will allow them full access to all our scientific facilities and personnel. They can join in our inquiries and report directly to you."

"That may be a viable option." Donatra warily allowed.

"However, your observers would have to accompany my crew and I to Deep Space 9." Macen revealed, "They'd have full access to the comm network and be able to keep you advised of all our movements to that point."

"Unacceptable!" Donatra thundered, "If you try to break orbit, we will tractor you. If you attempt to resist our tractor beam, we will cripple you."

The transmission terminated and Macen was left facing a picture of the Valdore in orbit, "Okay, let's try plan B."

Macen looked over towards Tactical, "Rab, are you set?"

"Affirmative." came the Angosian's terse answer. Normally he wasn't that taciturn unless he was in his preconditioned "combat" mode. His abruptness indicated his degree of uncertainty in what he was being asked to do. Macen knew the odds against Daggit being able to successfully detonate the torpedoes before they strike the Warbird's shields but it was the best option for an effective distraction.

Macen faced forward and spoke to Grace, "Hannah, is everything ready?"

"Just give the word and we'll take a ride around this planet."

"Good job." Macen acknowledged her efforts and enthusiasm, "Engage the impulse engines the moment Rab fires."

"You got it." Grace replied brightly

"Stand by Rab." Macen ordered, "Ready…fire!"

The photon torpedoes launched. The two forward ventral phaser strips fired at the same time. The phasers were fixed at a specific point 500 metres off the Warbird's shields. The torpedoes collided with the phaser beams and the resultant antimatter/matter annihilation created a distortion wave that blocked the Valdore's sensors.

The Obsidian's impulse engines flared to life and she rocketed forward. Her course was angled to pass by the Warbird's starboard side. The starship continued onward around the planet. Accelerating at the periphery of Harbinger's gravity well, the ship picked up speed.

The Obsidian broke free of Harbinger's gravity travelling at .95c. Einsteinian physics demanded that speeds nearing light speed created temporal dilations. The Nova-class vessel's internal timeframe was now separated from the surrounding universe by several moments. Each moment minute spent at relativistic speeds would increase the discrepancy.

Once free of the planet's gravity, the Obsidian leapt into subspace and transcended the lightspeed barrier that ruled normal space. Vectored for an approach to DS9, the Outbound Ventures surveyor left the system behind and continued sailing into the void. Macen hailed the Valdore shortly after departing Harbinger's periphery.

"Clever ruse, Captain." Donatra admitted ruefully.

"Sorry about the tactics, Commander. You left me little choice." Macen offered.

"Perhaps." Donatra allowed, "We still could have ended this peaceably. I cannot predict the overall consequences of this exchange."

"You were already in violation of the Neutral Zone treaty. Your transit rights ended with the Dominion War's close." Macen pointed out, "I understand a new treaty is being negotiated even as we speak. Perhaps you should have postponed your visit to Harbinger. The only reason behind my crew's presence was your provocative stance."

"I see." Donatra paused and then grew pensive, "I myself questioned the wisdom behind Commander P'ris' mission. The powers that be in the Senate endorsed her mission proposal and that was all that needed to be said."

"Starfleet often operates the same way." Macen admitted, "That's why I prefer to be an independent operative. I can choose my missions."

"But what authority do you serve?" Donatra asked.

"My own conscience." Macen shared, "I accept the missions that I see serving the greater good."

"Based upon your limited perspective." Donatra frowned.

"We all serve our own limited perspectives," Macen said, "even if we operate within the framework of a larger organisation."

Donatra pondered that point for a moment before replying, "I can sense the truth behind your words. I am just uncomfortable with the concept of rogue operators deciding interstellar policy."

"Then accept this maxim, I am an adopted citizen of the Federation. I became a citizen by choice. My choice remains unaltered. I will not betray the precepts of the Federation. My methods may differ from conventional Starfleet forces but I am constrained by their underlying philosophy."

"I will relay that to my superiors." Donatra promised, "They will be reassured."

Macen nodded, "Until we meet again, Commander."

"Until then." Donatra agreed and cut the transmission.

"All righty then," Macen slapped his knees, "All relief officers can now take their stations." He turned to face Riker, "Thanks for the extraction, Tom."

Riker grinned, "No problem."

"The bridge is yours."

"Turning in?"

Macen sighed, "I wish. I'll be in my ready room for awhile yet."

"I'm joining you." T'Kir announced as she approached the command chairs, "I want to finish searching the Herzet database and get those coordinates for the helm."

"Sounds good to me." Macen said.

"Might I suggest you have one of Kort's nurses visit you to take care of those burns on your arms?" Riker offered.

Macen wore a sheepish smile, "Thanks. I'd gotten used to the pain and forgotten about getting treated."

"Glad to help."

Hand in hand, Macen and T'Kir disappeared into his office.

---

The Captain's ready room on the Nova-class surveyors was an identical design to the XO's office on the Intrepid-class starships. Macen took a seat on the room's couch and composed a report for Admiral Drake on a padd. T'Kir sat at the desk and utilised the computer. The nurse had been and gone and Macen stretched his arms, marvelling at the relief he felt. He opened his mouth to comment on the situation when the door chime sounded.

Macen responded with, "Come."

The door slid opened and Shannon Forger stepped inside. T'Kir saw the expression on Forger's face and rose from the desk and made for the door.

"I'll give you two a moment alone." with that, T'Kir slipped out onto the bridge.

With T'Kir gone, Macen motioned for Forger to take a seat in the office's free chair. Forger shook her head.

"I prefer to stand while I say what I have to."

"You're bothered by your performance earlier." Macen stated.

"It's the latest in a series of events that have led me to my decision." Forger announced, "I'm resigning from my position as 1st Officer, effective immediately."

"Shannon, today…"

"Was one of a hundred events that proved I'm not ready for being the XO of this vessel." Forger was adamant, "I've tried to grow into the position but I'm not ready yet. Captain Riker can assume my duties and I'll return to my former position as 2nd Officer. I'm comfortable there and I'm damned effective."

"Are you sure about this?" Macen had to ask, despite his empathic abilities tasting her resolve.

"I'm fine as long as I can call upon a superior officer for advice or support." Forger explained, "A 1st Officer has to be ready to operate independently in the CO's absence. I'm not ready for that. I deserve to be demoted, in fact, I beg you to demote me."

Macen held up a hand, "No need to be drastic. I'll tell Tom he's been promoted and you go off and get some rest. You need to reset your circadian rhythm."

Forger finally smiled, "That won't be a problem. I've had more trouble adjusting to the XO's mid-shift then I did to the 2nd Officer's overnight shift."

"Sounds like you're set then." Macen said and rose from the couch, "If there's nothing further, I'll inform Tom of his change of status."

"Thank you, sir." Forger gushed.

"No, thank you." Macen gratefully replied, "Your insights into yourself have resolved a potential hazard to the ship and crew. You didn't allow your pride to interfere with resolving this issue. That's a mark of genuine maturity."

"Thank you." Forger whispered, voice thick with emotion.

Macen reached the door and it slid aside to reveal a crouched T'Kir. Macen shook his head, "I take it you heard all of that."

"Not all of it." T'Kir complained, "She whispered at the end and the door was too thick to hear what she said."

"Poor baby." Macen cooed. T'Kir stuck out her tongue and Macen chuckled, "I have to talk to Tom and then I'll join you in the ready room."

T'Kir focused her attention solely on Macen for a moment and then a flash passed through her eyes and she nodded, "Okay. I'll see you in a minute."

Macen sat down in the command chair and began to speak to Riker in hushed tones. Forger flashed a wan smile at T'Kir and proceeded to the turbolift. T'Kir pursed her lips and entered the ready room. She felt as though a major shift in the ship's destiny had just occurred but she dismissed it. Prognostication was Macen's forte, not hers.

We'll simply deal with the future when it arrives. T'Kir thought to herself and resumed her work on the Herzet database.

---

The following morning, Danan was released from Sickbay. She changed clothes and then proceeded to the science labs. Lab One contained the mysterious relic previously hidden in the depths of the alien ziggurat. The representative technological finds were housed in Lab Two. Danan arrived to find Macen, T'Kir and Parva in Lab Two.

"Install this shield generator as soon as you can." Danan overheard Macen say as she entered the lab, "T'Kir will bring the tech manuals with her and you can build an interface between the ion shield and our systems."

Macen turned to face Danan, "Lees, how are you feeling?"

"Fine now." Danan answered and then she walked up to T'Kir, "Don't…ever…do…that…again."

T'Kir absorbed this with aplomb, "I was just trying to help."

"You almost overloaded my nervous system." Danan rejoined, "I found out there is such a thing as too much pleasure."

"I had to get you mobile and only had a few moments in which to do it." T'Kir argued, "I did what I had to in order to get you to a place where you could get treated."

"I appreciate that." Danan admitted, "Just don't do it again. An experience that intense can get addictive in a hurry. I don't want future relationships to be judged by an artificial high that can't be achieved naturally."

"Who says it can't?" T'Kir asked, "Maybe the problem is that you've been seeking the wrong type of relationships."

Danan gaped for a moment and then shook her head, "Whatever. Just respect my wishes, okay?"

"All right." T'Kir raised her right hand, "I solemnly swear I won't intervene to spare you unnecessary pain."

"Knock it off, you smart ass." Danan retorted.

"Seriously," T'Kir rejoined, "I won't do it again."

"That's all I'm asking for."

"But it was great, wasn't it?" T'Kir prodded.

"You have no idea." Danan confessed.

"Ha!" T'Kir crowed.

"I hate to interrupt…" Macen interjected.

"Then don't." T'Kir shot back.

"But we need to get busy installing the ion shield and investigating the mysteries of this shard we've recovered." Macen insisted.

Danan tilted her head to the side, "He's got a point."

Parva hefted the shield generator and made for the door, "He brought my man back to me. I'm doing whatever he says."

T'Kir picked up the manual reader and the data crystals and followed the Orion out the door, calling out, "Suck up!"

Macen and Danan both started laughing as T'Kir and Parva began bantering as they walked down the corridor towards the turbolift. The former lovers moved from Lab Two to Lab One, where the Vulcan archaeologists were working with the Obsidian's science team examining the Herzet relic. Danan marvelled at how comfortable she was with Macen now that he was married. Knowing he was unavailable had broken the post-relationship tensions that had arisen.

"Any progress?" Macen asked as the varied scientists registered his presence.

"We have attempted to date the fragment but have proven unable to." Dorik answered, "Its composition is so dense that it defies our normal half-life decay dating methods. Even the potassium argon measurements have proven inconclusive."

"Have you attempted a neutrino decay survey?" Danan asked.

"That is most irregular." Dorik replied.

"This isn't normal matter." Danan said, "It's akin to protomatter yet curiously stable."

Dorik's eyebrows rose, "Yes, I see the similarities. What do you suppose would happen if we were to infuse this material with energy?"

"In addition to its natural energy?" Danan mused, "It would be a fascinating study."

"Agreed."

"I see that great minds are all ready thinking alike." Macen observed, "I'll leave you to it then. Keep me apprised of your progress."

"Not a problem." Danan agreed.

"`Till later." Macen said and departed.

"Let's see what we can see." Danan rubbed her hands together in anticipation.

"Indeed." Dorik concurred with as much excitement as he would allow himself.

---

.Chapter 9: Chapter 9

The Obsidian was on course for DS9. Macen had decided to offload the Starfleet scientists there before proceeding to Omicron. Dorik was amenable to this decision as long as his team was given unlimited access to the Herzet relic before they disembarked. There had been some debate over whether or not the primordial fragment would depart with the archaeologists. Macen won by virtue of his superior numbers.

The scientific team had already had twenty-four hours to examine the relic. They'd spent the greater portion of that time setting up the energy infusion experiment in Cargo Bay 3. Today they would test their theories.

Macen was present for the test. Danan had already briefed him on her theory. The ship's Sciences Specialist was postulating that the influx of energy would result in an energy and particle expulsion. What that expulsion would produce was still a matter of speculation.

"Everybody ready?" Gilan asked. Parva was busy overseeing the adaptation and installation of the ion shield generator. Her deputy was present in her stead. The Gideonite had constructed the energy projection device exactly to Danan's specifications. Having set the device up, he was ready to throw the switch.

After one last triple check of the portable sensors set up around the bay, Danan gave the okay, "We're set. Activate the generator."

Gilan activated the energy projector and ran back behind the sensor control board. A megajule pinprick of energy lanced out from the projector and struck the suspended fragment. Several seconds passed and then a plume of ejected matter and energy filled the aft portion of the bay. Danan and her science techs hurriedly deactivated the generator and monitored the mounting sensor readings.

"By the Pools." Danan whispered.

"What is it?" Dorik asked, "What have you found?"

"The readings are off the chart." Danan breathed, "We've just created a micro solar system."

"Can you clarify that?" Macen wondered.

"All the necessary components for a solar system are present in that cloud, including the building blocks for life." Danan explained, "With a large enough infusion of energy, this fragment could easily form dozens of full solar systems."

Danan paused then faced Macen, "Do you realise what this is? It's exactly what I predicted it to be. It's a fragment from the 'celestial egg' formed by the heat death and contraction of the previous universe. It must not have had enough energy to detonate with the rest of the 'egg'."

"What are the potential uses of such a fragment?" Macen asked.

"They're nearly limitless." Danan said, "We hit the fragment with a broad energy spectrum. Theoretically, a more specific energy discharge would result in a correspondingly specific matter expulsion."

"Such as the creation of new lifeforms?"

Danan nodded, "The potential for unlimited variations of life are contained within that mass."

"That's what I was afraid of." Macen admitted, "I think that's how the Omicrons mastered biotech. They've had millennia to perfect their extraction technique. Who knows what they've produced."

"There is the possibility that they've utilised the amino acids to manipulate the DNA of existing lifeforms. That may explain how they produced their ships." Danan postulated.

"An even worse thought." Macen grimaced, "At least with the other way, they'd have to wait for their creatures to develop. Under these proposed conditions all they'd have to wait for is the alterations to manifest."

"Unfortunately." Danan agreed.

"Now it's more imperative than ever that we report our findings to the SID and scout out Omicron."

"I agree." Dorik admitted, "I withdraw all my previous objections to your keeping the relic, Captain. You may yet receive invaluable insights from it that may help safeguard the Federation."

"Thank you for that." Macen said, "Your cooperation is appreciated."

"But unnecessary," Dorik remarked dryly, "since you intended to keep the fragment irregardless of my approving of it or not."

"True." Macen conceded, "But your approval means that I can proceed with a clear conscience."

"Emotionalism." Dorik disapproved.

"Such is the nature of the beast." Macen chuckled, "I am what I am."

"As are we all." Dorik allowed.

---

Danan continued her probes with the assistance of the Vulcan scientists. Fortunately for her they were all cross-trained in multiple disciplines. All of their skills were utilised in the ongoing investigation of the primordial matter.

Parva was able to install the ion shield with the use of a tailor made adapter. All of her notes were carefully logged and prepared for transfer to DS9. The station was less than a day away and preparations for their brief layover were already made.

Riker had accepted his "promotion" with aplomb. In many ways, he seemed relieved by the transfer. Forger had definitely blossomed after her return to the gamma shift. Riker reported that Shannon had instantly adapted to her "new" post and that the gamma shift was performing with greater efficiency than ever.

Riker was so happy with returning to his old position that Macen was worried that the reluctant captain wouldn't want to return to a command of his own. Riker had the skills but perhaps he no longer had the ambition. The loss of the George Kelly had affected him deeply. His sense of loss over losing Jamie Kirk's former command had reopened barely healed wounds.

Riker's twin, Will Riker, had postponed accepting his own command for over a decade. Perhaps Tom would follow a similar path. Whatever Riker's decision was, Macen would endorse it. Ultimately, Riker knew the best course for his life.

Macen surveyed the bridge and pondered the various soap operas that his officer's lives consisted of. Daggit and Parva's relationship was heating up. They'd recently taken a page from Macen and T'Kir's book and incorporated more kissing into their relationship. They'd recently been spotted engaging in some smouldering embraces. Macen could sense the growing bond between the two and he wished them every happiness in the world.

Macen considered Hannah Grace. Her life was still in transition. Having embraced her humanity, she was cut off from her people. Macen could empathise with her pain regarding this consequence.

Grace had made great strides towards rebuilding her teammates' trust. The wounds were still fresh but they were healing. Her actions were judged day by day. Thus far she'd given no one cause to complain.

Macen contemplated his relationship with T'Kir. They'd always enjoyed a very passionate union. Their compulsion to embrace bespoke of deeper commitments and of a fiery intimacy. Their respective tempers also brought another kind of heat into the mix.

So far, there had been no resentments since they'd always managed to heal the rifts between them in short order. Macen prayed that trend would continue. The secret behind their success so far had been their open communication. Neither of them held back when expressing their feelings or opinions. Their willingness to seek a common ground had proven invaluable.

Macen was grateful that he'd met T'Kir and fallen in love with her. Their acceptance of each other's faults had cemented their relationship. Both of them carried some serious psychological baggage into the pairing. Fortunately, their individual psychoses seemed to negate each other.

Each of them also brought some complimentary character traits into the union. T'Kir's freewheeling spirit invariably lightened Macen's sombre moments. Macen's creativity inspired T'Kir to new heights. T'Kir's passions ignited similar feelings within Macen. In turn, Macen's dedication and quiet convictions helped temper T'Kir's volatile mental states.

It had taken six years for the pair to acknowledge their mutual attraction and to risk a romantic liaison. Another pairing aboard the Obsidian had a clouded beginning. Kort and Radil had slowly paired up. Their ongoing relationship was tempestuous at best. Macen hoped that they would either eventually resolve their differences or permanently call an end to their association. Luckily, they were both professional enough to prevent their spats from interfering with their duties.

Danan proved to be the wildcard in the fold. Her love life had proven to be quite the whirlwind since her separation from Macen. Her temporary fixation with Macen had proven short lived. Since that occurrence their working and personal relations had markedly improved. T'Kir had forgiven Lisea for her momentary weaknesses and developed a warm bond with her.

Danan had returned to the team because she no longer felt she fit in with normal life in the Federation. What she would do if she felt that issue was resolved remained to be seen. Hal Dracas had returned to Starfleet's fold. Danan could very well follow in his wake.

Macen had already laid contingency plans for such an event. He hoped he wouldn't have to use them but he was prepared to if the need arose. He didn't foresee losing any other members of his investigative team. He'd been wrong before and surprises happened.

The underlying bond that the team had was their conviction that they were outcasts within the framework of the Federation. Utopias bred dissent. They were the dissidents, the misfits of civilised society. They believed in the dream of the Federation, they just couldn't live within its strictures.

The team's members were anachronistic throwbacks compared to the average Federation citizen of the late 24th century. Starfleet employed the group's antics in defence of the Federation but they weren't welcome to join the perfect society they were striving to create. The urbane citizens of the Federation would label Macen and his teammates as monsters.

Like the faceless operatives comprising the ranks of Section 31, Outbound Ventures attracted the sort that considered the ends justifying the means. That philosophy was an anathema to Starfleet and the Federation's common man. It worked for the SID since it was Starfleet's answer to Section 31. Even they were finding it difficult to rein in their operatives since those same individuals were highly individualistic, sometimes to a fault.

Stop brooding. T'Kir's mental voice cut through Macen's reverie.

Sorry. Macen thoughtcast back, I'll try to think of more uplifting things.

Good. T'Kir replied with satisfaction.

---

Macen wiled away the rest of his shift researching all of Starfleet's records and reports regarding the Omicron. The depressing part was that except for the encounter along the Tholian and Gorn borders, the bulk of the material was derived from Macen's own reports and theories. After reviewing Starfleet's records, he downloaded every reference to the Omicron in the Herzet database onto a padd and resumed reading. When Riker came on duty, Macen moved to his ready room and spent the late afternoon and early evening there.

---

The following day, the Obsidian arrived in the Bajor system. She docked on DS9's Lower Pylon 2 and offloaded liberty parties. They were only scheduled to remain at the station for 24 hours so it was a whirlwind event for the crew.

Macen had already forwarded along all of the technical, scientific, and sociological information that the Outbound Ventures and Starfleet teams had compiled from the Herzet database and the relic. Next, standing at the mouth of the airlock leading to the Obsidian, he handed copies of all the information and schematics to Dorik.

"Make sure Admiral Drake gets this information."

"You do not believe our transmission made it to Earth?"

Macen shrugged, "I'm not leaving anything to chance."

"Very wise." Dorik commented.

"Of course it's wise." T'Kir remarked, "We thought of it, didn't we?"

The rest of the investigative team, also assembled, refrained from snickering. Dorik almost kept the pained expression from his eyes. Dorik took his leave and departed. The Vulcan had an appointment with the station's CO, Captain Kira Nerys.

---

As the SID agents scattered across the station, Macen proceeded to his lunch appointment with Ro Laren. Macen and Ro had known each other since before she'd attended the Advanced Tactical Training Course that Starfleet offered. Macen had been temporarily attached to the Enterprise-D in relation to an anti-piracy campaign along the Cardassian border. His recommendation to Will Riker had prompted the Enterprise's XO to, in turn, recommend her applying to the ATTC to Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Picard had leapt at the chance to further the career of his protégé.

Macen and Ro had next encountered one another when Macen and Danan were infiltrating the Maquis. Having recognised Macen's name, she'd had the intelligence operative and his partner transferred to her command. It was Ro that convinced Macen to follow his conscience and play double agent on behalf of the Maquis. He in turn formed an intelligence gathering unit for her cell that was the envy of the rest of the Maquis Council.

Macen had helped negotiate the surrender of Ro's surviving Maquis when the Dominion War ended. The Bajoran government agreed to shelter the survivors in exchange for their retiring or joining the Bajoran Militia. Most of the Maquis assimilated. Ro herself joined the Militia and was swiftly assigned to DS9 as its Security Chief.

When Bajor joined the Federation and Deep Space 9 was reclassified as a Starbase, elements of the Militia were integrated into Starfleet. Ro was offered the choice of rejoining Starfleet as a Security officer or of returning to Bajor as a Special Forces officer in the Bajoran Militia. She opted to give Starfleet a third chance and donned the yellow Security blouse. Fortunately, Captain Kira's own past as a renegade granted her the ability to give Ro a wide discretionary berth for her department.

"Hello Brin." Ro smiled as she looked up from the menu at Quark's.

"I'd have thought you'd have that memorised by now." Macen commented as he took a seat opposite of Ro's.

"I do." Ro said as she sat the menu on the table, "But it's always nice to know what the daily specials are, that and to read the personal notes Quark scribbles in the margins."

Macen's right eyebrow rose, "Still? I thought you'd told him 'No' years ago."

"I did." Ro chuckled softly, "But Quark strives to acquire the unattainable. He still pursues Ezri Dax for the same reason."

"My understanding is that he has a weakness for Daxes." Macen said.

Ro nodded, "He chased Jadzia as well. When Ezri arrived on the station after Jadzia's death, he began his campaign. Her brief affair with Dr. Bashir notwithstanding, Quark has doggedly sought a relationship with Ezri ever since."

"You sound as though you knew Jadzia Dax." Macen observed.

Ro shrugged, "Sometimes I feel as though I did. Even though Chief O'Brien, Worf and my predecessor, Odo, left the station before my arrival, the remaining senior staff officers still speak fondly of her."

"Lisea has fond memories of her as well." Macen confided, "They became…close during their time together at the Symbiosis Institute."

Ro blinked at the pregnant pause in Macen's sentence, "Yet, you and she…"

"Something bothering you?" Macen asked, his eyes twinkling with merriment at her obvious discomfort.

Ro shrugged, "I guess not."

"Good." Macen replied and picked up the menu the waiter had brought during their discussion, "Now, what's good on here?"

---

"What about him?" T'Kir asked, pointing across the Promenade towards the Klingon restaurant's seating area.

"Too many tentacles." Grace responded.

"What's with you, girl?" T'Kir threw her hands up in the air, "This place is a veritable hotspot, with starship and freighter crews from across the quadrant, yet every person I point out isn't good enough for you. Why are you so picky?"

"Ha!" Grace pounced on T'Kir's statement, "You say that now but look at who you married."

"Brin Macen is one of the most exotic individuals I've ever met." T'Kir asserted, "He may not be physically unique but mentally he's off the charts."

"Okay," Grace backed down, "I agree that the Captain's got a unique personality and a first rate mind, but is he exotic?"

"Matter of taste, I guess." T'Kir shrugged, "He rocks my world and that's all that matters t'me."

"That's all I'm after." Grace protested.

"Not if you're being narrow minded about appearances you're not." T'Kir warned, "Physical attraction is good in a relationship but it doesn't sustain it."

"What about him?" a wide eyed Grace asked, staring at a tall, dark, handsome stranger in Sciences blue."

"The station CMO?" T'Kir wondered with concern.

"He's a Persian god." Grace remarked, "Who is he?"

"His name's Julian Bashir." T'Kir replied, "He's considered one of the Federation's leading medical minds."

"Tell about him." Grace demanded, "What is he interested in, what are his hobbies, what are his passions and most of all, what type of woman is he attracted to?"

"Slow down, girl." T'Kir cautioned, "Let me see." T'Kir's eyes focused on Bashir's retreating form. As he stepped into the Infirmary, a slow smile crept across T'Kir's face, "Oh, this is perfect. You're the perfect example of the human genome's current potential manifestation and he's genetically engineered. You'd have remarkable children."

"Forget about kids." Grace counselled, "What does he like?"

T'Kir smirked, "Okay Speed, here goes, Bashir likes independent, attractive, intelligent women that aren't afraid to display the quirks in their personality. He wants someone who can keep up with him emotionally and intellectually. He's seeking an idealist who'll stand next to him and defend the dreams and virtues of the Federation."

"Well, except for the last, "I've got it covered. Go on."

T'Kir shrugged in resignation, "He's looking for a playmate that will indulge his many hobbies. A participating partner would score major points with him. Barefaced emotional honesty is a winner. So are personal integrity and loyalty."

"But," T'Kir warned, "he's had several bad encounters with Section 31. I'd avoid telling him about your former allegiances on the first date."

"Easy enough." Grace retorted, "I'm good at keeping secrets."

"Secrets can be a bad thing, remember?" T'Kir advised, "Just break him in gently. That and stress the fact that you live on Barrinor, which is only four star systems away."

"Sure." Grace nodded, wearing a hungry expression.

"And for Elements' sake, stop looking like you're ready to jump his bones." T'Kir warned.

"He likes independent." Grace reminded T'Kir, "What about forward?"

T'Kir tilted her head to one side, "Depends on the circumstances. He enjoys flirting so go in and be coy. Coy and slightly mysterious will be alluring."

"I can do this." Grace said with confidence.

"Go get him." T'Kir enthused.

T'Kir stood back and watched Grace prowl up to the Infirmary door. She was lithe and poised, like a tiger getting ready to pounce. Grace gave T'Kir a thumb's up before venturing into the Infirmary. T'Kir leaned against a shop window and chuckled to herself.

Now this should be interesting. T'Kir thought. Looking across the way, she saw Kort and Radil sitting down at the Klingon restaurant. T'Kir smiled. Looks like they're finally ready to have their heart to heart. she observed.

---

Having ordered their meals, Kort and Radil took a pair of seats at a table at the edge of the restaurant's seating area. Kort relished the thought of eating fresh gagh again but Radil's circumspection had caused her to carefully limit her choices to a few items. Kort had convinced her to order a goblet of bloodwine. He himself had brought a mug of root beer from Quark's.

The Klingon proprietor and chief chef of the establishment bombastically sang selections of Klingon opera while preparing the various meals. The pair listened in silence for several minutes. Finally, Kort broke the reflective mood by speaking.

"Jenrya, I asked you here so that I could speak to you of matters that have been weighing on my heart."

"Good," Radil breathed, "the Prophets know I've a lot to tell you."

"Then speak. I can wait." Kort swept his hand outward in a beckoning motion.

"Okay, here goes." Radil said with some apprehension, "I don't know what we're fighting over. I can't remember. All I know is that I pick fights for no good reason. I do it because I'm afraid. I'm afraid of long term commitments and of sharing my innermost secrets."

Radil took a deep breath and plunged onward, "I want to have a relationship with you. I want to overcome my fears and eventually form a permanent bond with you."

Seeing Kort still expectantly staring at her, Radil shook her head, "That's it. I'm done."

Kort straightened up in his seat, "That places a different spin on what I was going to say." Seeing Radil's worried expression, he smiled warmly, "Never fear. I too want to work through our difficulties. I crave a permanent, stable relationship with you. I had a suggestion of how to accomplish that but I think I should wait before asking that question."

"What was it?" Radil asked, "Perhaps it can help."

Kort shook his head, "I was going to ask you to marry me. But I see now that you aren't ready for such a step."

Radil looked stunned, "Marry you?"

Kort nodded, "It was a thought I had. You see, I love you. My heart burns like a star at the thought of you. I ache when we are apart. I wanted to cement our union. That was selfish of me. We can arrive there when you are ready."

"You want to marry me?" Radil asked, still dazed, "You burn for me?"

"Perhaps I've said too much." Kort looked uneasy.

"No." Radil blurted, "I've always wondered how you felt. I needed to know. I just never imagined. You want to marry me? After I've been so horrible?"

Kort shrugged, "I love all the facets of you. I find our relationship to be…spicy. I like a little heat to fuel my heart's embers."

"Well, I won't marry you." Radil replied, "At least not yet. I may swoon for you though."

"I stand ready to catch you." Kort vowed.

"I know that," Radil commented, "and I think that's what scares me the most."

---

Daggit and Parva acquired guest quarters and then began exploring the station. They settled in the springball court, after changing into athletic gear and played several rounds before being bumped by the next scheduled players. After showering, they went to Quark's and had a quiet dinner. Dinner was followed by stargazing and watching traffic flow through the wormhole. When all was said and done, they retired early and cuddled through the night.

---

Kira was approaching her quarters when she noticed a looming figure in the corridor of the Habitat Ring. As she neared her door, she recognised the man. It had been a decade since Kira had last seen Tom Riker but he still looked healthy and vibrant.

"Sorry to sneak up on you like this, Kira, but I wasn't sure I'd get through via a frontal assault on your office."

Kira smiled, "Ro told me you were aboard the Obsidian. Part of me wondered if we'd meet again."

"I just wanted to apologise for kidnapping you all those years ago. It was a mistake and I regret it."

"Tom, you more than paid for any debt you owed me while you served in that Cardassian labour camp." Kira assured him, "You were fighting a war in your own way. Having fought a similar war, I empathised with your plight and the reasoning behind your actions."

"But not enough to endorse our conflict." Riker bitterly commented.

"Governments and people change once they come into power." Kira said philosophically, "The same rang true for Bajor. Resistance cells and groups that had once been tolerated by the whole of the Bajoran people suddenly found themselves prosecuted if they didn't accept an amnesty deal that mandated retirement from the conflict with the Cardassians. Most cells accepted the deal but a few groups refused. They were branded as terrorists."

"The Maquis followed a similar path and were also branded as terrorists by both the Federation and the Cardassians. Bajor officially followed the Federation's lead but the overwhelming sympathy vote assured the Maquis of tacit support even though the government publicly denounced them."

Riker sighed, "Look, I'm tired and the Maquis Rebellion was a long time ago. I was hoping for a quiet evening of conversation." Riker explained, "If you're uncomfortable with that, I can go."

Kira shook her head, "Once upon a time, we had the beginnings of an interesting evening. Let's see where that night could have gone."

Riker smiled, "Sounds good to me."

---

Chapter 10: Chapter 10

The following morning, Macen and T'Kir enjoyed an early breakfast with Ro. While sitting at a Bajoran eatery on the Promenade, they spied Captains Kira and Riker meeting at the replimat for breakfast as well.

"Tom looks happy." Ro observed.

"He's needed to bare his soul to someone for a long time now." Macen remarked, "It looks as though he finally found someone to do that with."

"So has Kira." Ro revealed, "The question is: how much baring did they do?"

"Nothing beyond the verbal kind." T'Kir pouted.

"Would you at least pretend you aren't in everyone's head?" Ro lamented, "If you don't, I'll arrest you for invasion of privacy. Lots of counts of it."

T'Kir stuck her tongue out at Ro and Ro laughed, "It's always the same with you two."

"Meaning what?" T'Kir demanded.

"Meaning I get alternating news of gloom and doom mixed with irreverence from him and I get rebellious feistiness from you." Ro described, "Both of you barely tolerated my orders during the Maquis Rebellion, you defied Starfleet's wishes so much they threw you out, and now you've once again been reined in by the barest of margins. Tell me, has Admiral Drake authorised your little excursion to Omicron."

Macen and T'Kir exchanged guilty looks and Ro chuckled, "That's what I thought."

"Well," T'Kir defended their position, "it's not as if she wouldn't want us to go."

"On a suicide mission pitting one outclassed surveyor against and entire planet of bad guys?" Ro asked dryly, "Oh, I'm sure she'd endorse that plan without reservation."

"I informed Amanda of our intentions." Macen revealed, "She has just chosen not to respond."

Ro's comm badge chirped and she tapped it, "Ro here."

"The Captain's ordered you to find Captain Macen and bring him to her office."

All eyes turned to the replimat in time to see Kira and Riker put their dishes in the recycler node and stride off to the turbolift.

"Acknowledged." Ro replied, "Inform the Captain that we'll be there momentarily."

"I think Drake has replied." T'Kir opined.

"I think you're right." Macen concurred.

T'Kir, Ro and Macen joined Riker and Kira in her office.

"You're dismissed Lieutenant." Kira informed Ro, "This is an 'Eyes Only' transmission."

"My people stay." Macen informed her.

"That goes against regulations." Kira countered.

"I'll just end up telling them what's in the transmission anyway." Macen divulged, "Tom's my acting 1st Officer and T'Kir's my wife, with whom I share a telepathic bond. The odds of my keeping these people in the dark are nil."

"Yeah!" T'Kir enthused, "D'you really think I won't pry the info out of him. I don't even need telepathy. I know where to tickle, Lady."

Macen closed his eyes and shook his head, all while wearing a grin. He opened his eyes and spoke to Kira, "It's my message. It's within my discretion to disseminate the information how I see fit."

"Actually, it's our message." Kira replied, "Admiral Drake wants me present to serve as a witness."

"I have witnesses." Macen jerked his thumb in Riker and T'Kir's direction.

Kira offered Macen a knowing smile, "The Admiral wants impartial witnesses."

"Bugger." Macen muttered.

Kira swivelled her chair to face the comm viewer. Macen rounded the desk and came to stand behind her. Kira gave her voice code authorisation and the screen came to life. It briefly showed the United Federation of Planets symbol but then switched to an image of a worried looking Amanda Drake.

"Ah, Kira. Good." Drake seemed distracted. It was amazing how much she resembled her younger sister. Macen gained a new appreciation for how hard Shannon Forger had worked to distance herself from Drake's persona and reputation.

"Is Macen that torso behind you?" Drake asked.

"Yes, it is, Admiral." Kira replied.

"Brin?" Drake enquired, "I need to talk to you about your mission plans."

"I'm here, Amanda." Macen told her, "My plans are finalised and will be acted upon in less than three hours time."

"As much as I want the information regarding Omicron and its people, I can't endorse you dragging your crew off on some damned suicide mission." Drake argued.

"The mission is hardly suicide." Macen countered, "We have the ion shield. That neutralises the Omicrons' most powerful weapon. After that, they'll have to rely on disruptor blasts. We already know the Omicron ships can project particle beams from previous encounters with them. The Obsidian possesses twice the shielding of the Eclipse. We also know how powerful those particle weapons are. We won't be blindsided again."

"Yes, the Starfleet Corps of Engineers has reviewed the schematics you sent us. The entire fleet has been sent the plans and has begun installing the ion shield generators. The adapter allowing the generator to overlap the existing shields was, and I quote, 'brilliant'."

"Parva will be happy to hear that." Macen said.

"I'm still worried that you'll be outgunned." Drake stated.

"So am I." Macen admitted, "But we need as much information on the Omicron as we can gather. Alynna wouldn't hesitate to send us even with the odds being what they are."

"Yes," Drake reluctantly revealed, "she said as much when your mission proposal came in."

"It's not a proposal." Macen argued, "It's what's going to happen."

"We need to spend an afternoon discussing your attitude." Drake sighed, "What if I don't authorise the mission. You won't get paid."

"Then I'll do it on my own." Macen informed her.

"That's what I thought you'd say." Drake sounded resigned, "Very well, I'm authorising the mission. The 7th Fleet will be standing by to reinforce you."

"It'll take them three days to reach our location." Macen replied, "I don't think upping their alert status will do much for us."

Drake was frustrated, "There must be someway we can help you."

Macen shrugged, "Not that I know of."

"We could send the Defiant along with you." Drake suggested hopefully.

Kira nodded, "We have three screening elements from the 9th Fleet on call."

"The 9th Fleet is going to be busy as soon as we relay whatever information we gather regarding Omicron's defensive posture." Macen said in reply, "We're going in for a covert reconnaissance, not a full fledged assault. The Defiant would just provide a provocation while we might escape unnoticed on our own."

"You never escape unnoticed." Drake complained.

"We do, all the time." Macen protested.

"Not when you're working for me."

"Still not true." Macen pointed out, "My team and I have successfully infiltrated three Orion Syndicate cartels, two terrorist cells, and covertly investigated five corrupt Starfleet contractors that were selling production and design secrets to the Romulans, the Ferengi and other high bidders. All of these operations were completed without our revealing our identities or sparking an incident. That doesn't include our private contracts."

"All right. I stand corrected." Drake conceded, "I guess all that's left is to wish you luck."

Macen leaned down to be captured by the imager, "If you don't hear from us in six days, send all available forces to Omicron."

"Take care of my sister." Drake swallowed hard.

Macen nodded, "As best as I can."

"Come back alive." Drake ordered.

"Always do." Macen winked. Drake stared for a moment and then terminated the subspace connection.

"She's so easy to embarrass." Macen confided conspiratorially.

Kira shook her head. "Elias is discreet. You should allow him to follow you in the Defiant."

"The Defiant is needed here in case of an Omicron attack." Macen countered, "We'll be fine. Honest."

Kira still looked dubious but dropped the matter, "I believe you have a departure slot in three hours, Captain."

"I surely do, Captain." Macen bowed, "Until later."

"Take care, Tom." Kira called out as the Outbound Ventures trio were departing her office. Riker waved back and smiled.

He's still a charmer. Kira thought ruefully. Seeing that the Obsidian's officers had exited Ops on the turbolift, she summoned her XO to her office. Commander Vaughn reported instantly.

"Trouble, Captain?" the 107-year-old Special Operations veteran asked.

"How did you guess?" Kira rubbed her temples.

Vaughn rubbed his bearded chin and smiled, "Macen's a top flight intelligence operative but trouble is his personal shadow."

"How long have you known him?" Kira enquired.

"Almost 80 years." Vaughn explained, "There's a lot of war stories between us."

"I can imagine."

"No." Vaughn asserted, "You really can't."

Kira was surprised by Vaughn's sudden attitude but let it go, "I have a fresh assignment for the Defiant. You, as usual, will be commanding her."

Vaughn broke into a boyish grin, "I thought as much."

---

The Obsidian's departure from DS9 went by without incident. The location of Omicron had been determined thanks to Danan's cartographical expertise. She had spared a few minutes time from her researches to investigate the whereabouts of the Omicron homeworld.

With the coordinates determined it was discovered that Omicron lay beyond the Cardassian farside border, close to the energy barrier surrounding the galactic core. James Kirk had had the unfortunate privilege of penetrating that barrier and Starfleet had subsequently learned the price of violating that particular barricade. Macen was glad that the Omicron homeworld was on this side of the barrier. He had no intentions of encountering the capricious energy being that dwelt on the other side of that particular "cage".

It would take the ship three days at warp six to reach their destination. Macen once again reviewed what information they had on Omicron and its inhabitants. The Herzet, Iconians and the rest of the rebels' alliance had razed the planet. It had been a class-M paradise. Now it was a barren rock. Lichens, moss and algae provided what atmosphere there was.

Since all of the cities and dwellings on the surface of Omicron had been utterly destroyed, that left underground or underwater locations for the survivors' descendents to arise from. From all indications, the Obsidian's enhanced sensor platforms were more advanced than what had been utilised by the victorious rebels. Danan felt confident that she would be able to pinpoint the location of an Omicron city. That was good enough for Macen.

Danan's research into the primordial fragment had slowed. She was isolating the shard's reactions to individual energy wavelengths. After this, the next step was to attempt imbue cloned rDNA strands with the "rock's" discharges. So far she'd managed to fuse DNA with 43 different variations of ejected mass. Varying the DNA sources also altered the results.

Computer modelling of the fully grown results of the infusion process had been startling. The radical departures from the original expressions of the genome had shocked the entire Sciences department as well as the Vulcan archaeologists while they'd been involved with the inquiry. The experiments left little doubt as to the source of the Omicrons' mastery of biotechnology.

Macen and Daggit spent time planning potential incursions. Macen sat down with Riker and developed contingency plans for the ship and the extraction of the investigative team. The team's roster would include the entire unit sans Riker and Grace. Grace was less than happy about this turn of events but she knew her place lay with her primary skill set.

The alpha shift ended their shift a mere two hours after the ship's departure from the station. The conflicting differences in on-board timekeeping had created this discrepancy. It meant that the gamma shift personnel had had less shore leave time than the alphas. Such were the vagaries of starship schedules.

---

Having changed for a work out in the ship's on-board gym, T'Kir cornered Grace before starting to exercise and lifted the details of Grace's evening with Bashir from her.

"So," T'Kir asked eagerly, "what happened?"

"When?" Grace asked innocently.

T'Kir's widened expectantly, "When you were with Dr. Bashir, silly."

"Oh," Grace still acted meekly innocent, "Julian."

"Julian, eh?" T'Kir broke into a lopsided grin, "So tell me about it…all of it."

"Well, I went into the Infirmary…"

"I saw that part." T'Kir impatiently reminded her, "What happened after you entered?"

" I asked the nurse if I could speak with Julian." Grace continued, "He was just coming off his shift but he took a moment to see me."

"And sparks flew." T'Kir supplied.

"Not exactly." Grace bit her lower lip, "At first he was a little irritated that I'd pursued him at work but then he eased up a bit and was flattered."

"Flattered is good." T'Kir commented, "A stroked ego usually greases the wheels towards a conversation."

Grace brightened, "That's what happened!"

"Told ya." T'Kir cockily replied.

"Julian accepted my invitation to dinner and we went to Quark's." Grace explained, "It seems Quark is in competition with a new Bolian restaurant and gaming parlour. According to Julian, his menus and prices have become really competitive lately."

"Yeah," T'Kir nodded, "Brin and I ate at the Bolian place. The food and the service were excellent. Quark would have to revamp a lot of his business practices in order to compete."

"I know you and the Captain have had dealings with Quark in the past, and they may colour your view of him, but he was very sweet and cordial towards Julian and myself."

"Did he know which ship you sailed with?" T'Kir frowned

"Well, no." Grace replied uncertainly.

"That explains it then." T'Kir looked vindicated.

"That's not fair!" Grace protested.

"Listen, Hannah, I just happen to know this troll a lot better than you do."

"He's sweet."

"He'd also sell your mother to the highest bidder if given half a chance." T'Kir pointed out.

"My mother would turn him into a little cube," Grace replied, "and then step on him."

"See?" T'Kir pointed at Grace, "Feisty and exotic. A potent combination if there ever was one on the black market."

"Kelvans are not exotic." Grace folded her arms across her chest.

"They are when you aren't one." T'Kir said wryly.

Grace stuck out her lower lip and it quivered. T'Kir rolled her eyes in exasperation, "Don't pout. Tell me the rest of your story."

Grace's depression instantly disappeared and she livened back up, "Julian and I talked for hours. He's so well rounded. He can hold an intelligent conversation on virtually any topic. Any topic but flight, that is. I waxed on and on about the sheer joy of piloting a ship through the stars and he was captivated."

"As well he should be." T'Kir said adamantly.

"He was." Grace said confidently, "The rest of the evening we discussed literature, art, and holodeck programs."

"I didn't know you were a holodeck enthusiast." T'Kir revealed.

"When have we had a ship large enough to have one?"

"Good point." T'Kir conceded, "Go on."

"It was a wonderful evening." Grace informed her, "Afterwards, he invited me to his quarters for a intimate drink."

"So how is he in bed?" T'Kir asked, eyes sparking with anticipation.

"I don't know." Grace admitted.

"How can you not know?" T'Kir demanded, "There were sparks, chemistry, raw sexual magnetism. How could you not sleep with him?"

"Keep your voice down!" Grace hissed, "For your information, I don't sleep with men on the first date."

"How about women?"

"No." Grace replied, "I don't sleep with women and I don't throw myself at a guy on the first date. I'm not you."

"That was cold." T'Kir said without any emotion.

"I don't mean to come off as rude or anything but face it, you were promiscuous before you started seeing the Captain."

"Didn't bother him." T'Kir replied, "Why should it bother me?"

"It shouldn't but you have to realise I'm not you." Grace implored, "I take things slowly. So don't criticise when I don't charge in to a full blown orgy."

"Might change your world." T'Kir suggested.

"My world has enough problems right now."

"Why?" T'Kir wondered, "Sounds like things went awfully smoothly. You didn't mention Section 31 did you?"

"No." Grace replied glumly.

"You didn't start bragging that you're a Kelvan?"

"No."

"You didn't proclaim yourself to be the best pilot in the Alpha Quadrant did you?"

"Yes." Grace wailed, "I'd had too much synthehol and I didn't catch what I was saying until it was too late. I sobered right up after that."

"How bad can it be?" T'Kir asked hopefully.

"Julian took me up on my claim and issued a standing simulator challenge between Prynn Tenmei and myself."

"Who the hell is Prynn Tenmei?" T'Kir wondered.

"The chief helmswoman aboard the Defiant and Commander Vaughn's daughter." Grace was nearing tears now.

"It's just a stupid challenge, Hannah." T'Kir consoled her friend, "I'm sure they'll forget about it in a week.

"What if they don't?"

"Then you'll blow her out of space and prove you were right." T'Kir confidently asserted.

"Yeah, you're right." Grace said with more of her usual confidence.

"Yup." T'Kir nodded, "I usually am."

"Now who's cocky?" Grace teased.

"Like you, I am merely stating fact, not opinion." T'Kir opined.

"May all our facts be true." Grace raised her fist in a defiant gesture.

"Amen!" T'Kir shouted. Several of the assembled, exercising crewmen stared.

"Get back to your workouts ya voyeurs." T'Kir decreed. Many shrugs and a few muttered, disparaging curses later, T'Kir faced Grace again, "You ready to sweat your angst away."

"Oh yeah."

"Then let's be about it." T'Kir laughed.

---

Chapter 11: Chapter 11

The second day of the Obsidian's journey proved to be quite uneventful. Macen's evening, however, was beginning to be quite lively…

Macen stepped out of the shower and began dressing when T'Kir walked into the couple's restroom. Macen finished dressing without a second thought. It was a common occurrence.

"What's on your mind?" he asked T'Kir with a lopsided grin as he zipped up the fly of his pants.

"What d'you mean?" T'Kir looked more distracted than puzzled.

"Well," Macen slipped his shirt on over his head, "although you've been blocking your end of our rapport, I can still sense your emotions. Something's bothering you."

"How was your workout with Rab?" T'Kir evaded.

"Nice try." Macen's grin spread across his face, "You're not getting off that easily."

"I would hope not." T'Kir bantered.

Macen quirked his eyebrow and T'Kir shrugged, "Sexual innuendoes aside, I have had something on my mind."

Macen left the bathroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. He motioned for T'Kir to join him. As she did, he asked, "Like what?"

"Well," she hemmed and hawed, "It all started when I was talking with Hannah."

"Never a good sign." Macen jokingly commented.

"Maybe not in this case." T'Kir conceded, "Tell me, does my past bother you?"

"I don't see where you have anything in your past to be ashamed of." Macen replied and then added, "Except for stabbing me."

"Drop it already." T'Kir growled, "No, I mean my sexual history."

"Why in the worlds would that bother me?" Macen wondered.

"Well, I had a lot of partners."

"Fortunately, Federation science has reached a point where they've eradicated all known venereal diseases so I don't see the problem."

"Well, take you for an example." T'Kir tried to describe her point, "I only know of four partners that you've had. There was Lees, myself, Taryn, and Arinea." That's all I know about."

"That pretty much covered it." Macen replied with a shrug.

"You've had four sexual partners?" T'Kir couldn't believe her pointed ears.

"Well, you have to remember, I was with one partner for over two hundred standard years."

"Four?" T'Kir was still in shock.

Macen put a hand on her knee, "What you did doesn't bother me. Now if you'd continued sleeping around while we were courting or now that we're married, we'd have a serious problem."

"How serious?"

"Irreconcilable differences serious." Macen warned her, "I don't foresee this issue ever becoming a problem, but since you've brought it up you might as well know the truth."

"Thanks, I think." T'Kir looked perplexed.

"Just know this," Macen lifted her chin, "I love you. I trust you more than I trust anyone else. That says a lot. That trust is the foundation for everything we have."

Macen leaned in kissed T'Kir. It was a smouldering kiss, expressing all of his passion for her. The mood carried the day for several moments. When their lips finally parted, T'Kir bestowed Macen with a sultry smile.

"Don't stop now." she gently demanded.

Macen leaned her back on the bed and their lips embraced again. It was a slow and sumptuous feast, tasting each other's desires. They carried on like this for the better part of an hour. Eventually, they fell asleep in each other's arms.

---

Macen awoke to T'Kir tracing out the circular tattoo on his back. It marked him as a member of the Seekers of Truth. It was a contemplative order that was all but extinct now. The Seekers had spread beyond their birthworld of El-Auria so it was possible that others had survived. There were also the alien inductees.

Macen hoped that the Orders spread out across the Delta Quadrant had managed to avoid assimilation or annihilation. He'd killed the only other member that he'd known in the Alpha Quadrant and that had been his supposedly deceased wife. Arinea's demise meant that he was the last holder of the revered truths entrusted to the Seekers. Macen had carried two databases with him from El-Auria. One contained the scientific information recorded over his centuries of exploring the universe. The other contained the most vital of arcane secrets handed down from Seeker to Seeker.

What he was meant to do with that second database was still a mystery to him. T'Kir's gentle tracing became feathery light and began to tickle. Perhaps he'd just received his answer.

"Get up sleepyhead." T'Kir prodded, "I know you're awake."

"Fates, I hate mornings." Macen grumped as he rolled over. T'Kir thrust a coffee mug in his direction and he scooted himself back against the wall and sat upright, "Blessed art thou among women."

"Ha!" T'Kir scoffed as she handed over the proffered mug, "I'm not blessed, just thoroughly frinxed."

Macen's face twisted into an expression of distaste, "I may have done many things to you last night, but frinxing you wasn't one of them."

"I forgot," T'Kir laughed, "you're such a prude at times. I needed a good humping and you gave it to me."

"I'd like to think it was more than just physical." Macen complained.

T'Kir stroked his cheek, "It was. It was also very physical. I couldn't ask for a better fusion between the emotional and the purely sexual."

T'Kir stopped and stared at him for a moment, "What's on your mind?"

"I think I figured out my retirement."

"What are you talking about?" T'Kir definitely felt confused. How did discussing sex lead to retirement?

"I'm the caretaker of what could be the last vault of Seeker knowledge."

"And your point is?"

"I can disseminate that knowledge and then it won't die." Macen said excitedly.

"You're gonna train Seekers in our golden years?" Obvious disappointment laced every word.

"Maybe." Macen shrugged, "Mostly I was planning on publishing a series of papers and then doing the lecture circuit."

"That," T'Kir slapped her knees, "I can live with."

"You might have to change your mind about the second part." Macen warned her.

"Elements," T'Kir sighed, "I hope not."

"Don't worry," Macen chuckled, "I don't expect it to become an issue for at least a hundred years from now."

"Unless the Omicrons decide to kill us later today." T'Kir chimed in.

"Aren't we pleasant?" Macen teased.

"I just have a bad feeling about this one, Brin." T'Kir revealed.

"So do I." Macen admitted, "The probabilities are in flux. The effect increases as we approach Omicron. I have no idea how things will turn out."

"Welcome to what the rest of us live through."

"Shut up and find my pants." Macen took a slug of coffee, "I don't remember where I tossed them last night."

"Find them yourself." T'Kir countered.

Macen shrugged, set his mug down on the nightstand, threw the covers back and got up out of bed. T'Kir remained on the edge of the bed and clapped her hands.

"Woo hoo!" she cheered, "Full frontal nudity!"

---

As Macen and T'Kir arrived on the bridge, only Forger and the gamma shift OPS officer were waiting to be relieved. Macen cast T'Kir a sidelong glance and she had the decency to look guilty.

"How'd the night go, Shannon?" Macen asked as he sat down in the command chair.

From the exec's chair, Forger shrugged, "It was okay, I guess."

"I sense a very large 'but' looming in this conversation." Macen opined.

"But the closer to Omicron we get, the more creeped out my people get." Forger revealed.

"It's only natural." Macen assured her, "We're about to confront an entire planet full of beings that effectively mopped the floor with us the last time we encountered them. We may have one technical advantage this time but it doesn't offset all the disadvantages we face."

"Then how can we…"

"Through faith." Macen consoled her, "The belief that we serve a cause greater than ourselves and that the cause demands that we take action drives us on. We all serve purposes larger than ourselves, even if we don't acknowledge them as a vaster power."

Seeing doubt in Forger's eyes, Macen continued, "Our beliefs drive us to perform our duty, even when there is no apparent supervision. In this case, our belief in the Federation and preserving the security of our homeworlds spurs us to take action against the Omicrons. If we can determine a way to neutralise their aggression, then we'll take that information back with us and we'll give it to Starfleet so that they can effectively mount a defence."

"But you're not even from the Federation." Forger pointed out, "How can you be so driven?"

"I made the Federation my home after the loss of my birthworld." Macen explained, "I joined Starfleet, against the wishes of my fellow refugees. I've sweat blood and tears across ninety years and two quadrants. I haven't complained once because I believe in the Federation. For whatever reason, the Fates brought me into the Federation's fold and I serve her with all of my being. That's faith."

Macen rested his hand on Forger's shoulder, "That faith is in all of us or we wouldn't be here. This ship is an instrument of that faith. We serve the Federation to the best of our ability, even when the Federation doesn't want our help."

"And they labelled you a maverick." Forger's smile started to return.

Macen shrugged, "I serve as is needed, not how they want me to."

Forger's smile blossomed, "So you are a maverick."

Macen grinned, "There are worse things to be."

Forger shook her head, "Good night, sir. I'll be seeing you a little earlier tonight."

The statement was true. The gamma shift bridge crew was getting called in four hours earlier to cover for the investigative team when they vacated their bridge postings and headed down to Omicron's surface. It was a moment already filled with apprehension. Macen had no fears as to his crew's performance. They'd do their jobs, or die trying.

Macen knew it was his job to try and insure that none of his teammates died. He couldn't plan for everything though and he knew that they were pressing their luck with every mission they accepted. The irony was that Macen led those closest to him into the gravest danger. The same had been true in the Maquis. The only difference was that in the Maquis, the ultimate responsibility lay with Ro.

Macen sometimes wished Ro were here now. He'd felt more comfortable as her advisor than he ever had standing in her place as commanding officer. The Fates, however, had had different paths for the two of them following the Dominion War. Macen couldn't change the past. All he could do was affect the future.

Macen called up the varied plans for an insertion into an Omicron facility. Their goal was to access a computer terminal and download the Omicron operational plans into T'Kir's trusted microcomputer. Once that was accomplished, the team would withdraw and the Obsidian would vacate the system.

At least, Macen thought dryly as his eyes narrowed in concentration, that's the plan.

---

"Dropping out of warp and proceeding at half impulse." Grace announced as she executed the described actions.

"Rig for silent running." Macen ordered. All active sensors were immediately turned off and the passives were dialled to maximum sensitivity. "Stand by all weapons."

"Weapons hot, targeting sensors on stand by." Daggit replied.

The only active emissions originating from the ship were its navigational deflector and its impulse engine exhaust. All electromagnetic and subspace transmissions were shut down. The Obsidian could "hear" but she couldn't "see".

The star system contained fifteen planets. Only the third planet from the primary was capable of supporting life. If the Herzet records were accurate then even the third planet had been reduced to only marginally supporting life.

The tension levels throughout the ship ratcheted skywards as the Obsidian silently sailed through the system. For the bridge crew it was even worse. The visual feed of the main viewer displayed horrific scenes of the wrecks strewn about from the last great battle between the Omicron and their captive worlds. It seemed as though the entire system was filled with death.

It soon became obvious that even if the sensors were on that they would have been filled with too much static to be effective. Hopefully the reverse was true as well and the Federation ship was flying in undetected. For all of Macen's bravado with Drake, he knew his underarmed surveyor still stood little chance against an Omicron warship. He had no idea if the Omicrons' produced any other type of vessel. The entire mission was predicated on too much prayer and not enough fact.

Far too early, and not soon enough, the Obsidian reached the orbital track of the third planet. All twelve previous orbital paths had been free of obstruction, so to was this one. Macen called an all stop and ordered the main viewer put on maximum magnification. The debris stopped here. The rest of the system's interior was free of the signs of the cataclysmic struggle that had ended the Omicron's unholy reign.

---

"Holy shuk!" Grace quietly breathed.

"Hannah," Macen said quietly but firmly, "adjust our course and take us to Omicron orbit."

"Speed?" Grace asked so coolly that one would ever have known she'd ever wavered.

"Let's try one quarter impulse." Macen ordered ever so gently, "Let's not alarm the natives just yet."

With an appreciative smile, Grace implemented Macen's instructions.

---

It took forty-three minutes to adjust their heading and rendezvous with Omicron itself. They'd proven fortunate in that the planet's solar orbit was on an "approach" towards where the Obsidian had entered its orbital track. As they settled into a standard orbit, Danan began intensely scrutinising her instrumentation. The others were transfixed by the hellscape that lay before them.

The viewer's magnified scenes of the surface were pitiless as was the environment itself. The Herzet, Iconians and the other rebels had reduced this planet to its primordial essence. It was a barren rock with scattered oceans potentially filled with unknown scavengers and bottom feeders that had survived the holocaust that had been wrought upon the surface of this world. Algae, mosses, moulds and lichens were the only visible survivors scattered across the surface and the seas.

There were, even after this many millennia, ruins standing across various sections of the globe. It was a testimonial to a race so rugged that it took a coalition of worlds to kill an entire planet in a mad effort to eradicate their oppressors. It was an act of madness, but was it an act of rage? Macen related his own people's experience with the Borg to this scene.

The El-Aurians had never possessed the ability to strike back at the Borg, but if they had perhaps this would be a preview of what would result. There was anger here, it still permeated the entire system, but this was more than anger. This was something deeper, more pathological. It was fear.

For the El-Aurians, the fear was of assimilation into the Borg collective. For these rebels it must have been something equally terrifying. Macen began to review every scrap of the Herzet database and the sights and sounds of the ziggurat in which it had been found. The answer was there…

---

"They experimented on them." Macen suddenly said with absolute certainty.

"What was that?" Riker asked from the seat beside Macen's.

"This," Macen rose, arm sweeping across the viewer, "all of this. It's not about anger, it's about fear."

"Seems pretty angry to me." Riker replied.

"There is anger, but it stems from fear." Macen explained, "These people were lab rats to the Omicron. Their DNA was harvested for the Omicrons' endless experimentation with biotechnologies. They used the other ultramatter fragment to rewrite the genetic code and produce unnatural creatures. They'd had enough and they were going to stop it, even if it meant killing every Omicron in the Milky Way galaxy."

"How can you be so certain?" Riker asked.

"The psychic scars here run so deep that the emotions that were felt in that last terrible conflict are still here. I can feel what they felt." Macen described and then he shrugged, "The rest is extrapolation based upon what we already know."

"He can tell you about the past." T'Kir interjected, "I can tell you about the present. There's life down there…and it's not friendly."

"Can you get a bearing on where they're at?" Macen asked.

T'Kir shook her head, "All I can tell you is that the Omicrons are grouped in large clusters. I cannot stress the word large enough."

"Any thoughts as to why you can't get a solid reading?"

"Their minds are unlike anything I've worked with before." T'Kir revealed, "It's like they're all psychotic."

"Lees?" Macen queried.

"It's possible." Danan answered, "They've had over 100,000 years to meddle with their natural evolution. Who knows what they were supposed to have developed into by now? That has to take a toll on both a society's and an individual's psyche."

"Any luck detecting ultramatter?" Macen asked as he approached Danan's station. He could feel her swell of pride every time the term was mentioned. She'd coined it for use when referencing the primordial fragment and its supposed cousin.

She shook her head, "We'd need the active sensors and even then, it's probably buried deep underground or underwater."

"Any luck identifying any potential Omicron settlements?" he tried a different tack.

"The dynoscanners have detected dozens of large scale thermal blooms. Several of these are of oceanic origins. About half are products of volcanic activity. The other half appears to be the result of habitation." Danan reported and pointed at the infrared image of Omicron on her screen, "This spot here constitutes the largest combination of thermal and other energy types. It's a rather small fissure leading to the interior of this mountain range but other, smaller caves and openings yield the same types of energies in the same ratios."

"So this could constitute a hub of underground activities?" Macen asked.

Danan nodded, "The Herzet database hypothesised that the Omicrons developed from a subterranean culture into a terrestrial civilisation. What if they'd never abandoned all of their old ancestral homes? This could constitute a major city on another, more familiar world."

"I'd say several cities given the size of that range." Macen opined, "What are the odds that these readings are the result of volcanic activity?"

"Slim to nonexistent." Danan replied, "The energies involved are far too differentiated to simply be the result of magma displacement. And then there's the matter of the mountain range itself. It's a granite range, not a volcanic one. It's rather unusual to see a granite range this large but it's not unheard of. My staff geologist is drooling over these readings as we speak."

"You could have just said, 'No'." Macen returned dryly.

"You wouldn't have, so why should I?" Danan retorted with an unrepentant smile.

Macen grinned in reply and turned to address Riker, "Tom, summon the relief crew. Page Radil, Kort, and Parva and have them join us in the staff briefing room."

While Riker attended to the business at hand, Danan spoke to Macen in hushed tones, "Brin, I should come with you."

"We won't be able to use our tricorders while we're down there, Lees." Macen confided, "I'm not certain what you could accomplish down there."

"Ancient scientists had no instruments beyond their eyes." Danan rejoined, "You'd be amazed at what I can do with just a camera."

Macen sighed, "You're not going to give up until I relent are you?"

"Nope."

Macen pinched the bridge of his nose between his closed eyes, "Tom and Hannah are remaining behind as well. Do you hear them complaining?"

"They don't know you well enough to argue with you." Danan's eyes glinted, "I do."

"Then you should understand this, I'm not trying to protect you. I'm protecting my ship and crew. I need you up hear monitoring the planet and local space for signs of a potential Omicron retaliation. You're the best qualified, understood?"

"Perfectly." Danan nodded in defeat.

"Good." Macen replied brusquely and turned away. Over the next several minutes, the entire gamma shift bridge crew arrived and relieved the alpha crew except for Riker, Grace, and Danan. The freed officers proceeded to the turbolift and from there to the main briefing room. Inside, Kort, Parva and Radil awaited them.

---

Having been briefed on Danan's discoveries and theories regarding the dynoscan readings originating from the granite mountain range, the team reviewed the insertion plan; such as it was at this point. After reviewing the plan and its objectives, the team separated to dress and arm themselves appropriately. They were to regroup in transporter room 1 in twenty minutes.

The uniform of the day was a black variant of Starfleet's field duty uniform dating back between the 2270s and the 2340s. The boots were both black and charcoal grey. The undershirt was not a turtleneck but rather a charcoal grey crew necked shirt.

When the team assembled in transporter room 1, they each inspected the variations that each individual had developed. Daggit wore twin shoulder holsters with his as well as a double holster rig. In the right holster, Daggit stored a sawed off pump action grenade launcher. It had been another gift from Parva. The left leg bore an Angosian Infantry issue combat knife.

Radil wore her phaser cannon on her right side. Her left hip carried a phaser pistol. Kort carried a phaser rifle in addition to his pistol. On his back he wore a medkit and in his left boot, he'd sheathed a Klingon combat knife.

Parva carried double phasers as well as a rifle. On her back, she wore a general utility tool kit. Macen and T'Kir each wore their usual holsters and phaser pistols. T'Kir's right hip had pouches for the microcomputer, a tricorder, and a cluster of isolinear data rods.

Macen saw the quiet unease that preceded any mission. More to the point, he saw the steely confidence exhibited by his people. In their minds, they had already succeeded and were on their way back to the Federation. It was this attitude that would guide them to true victory.

---

"All right folks," Macen spoke up, "we're at the crux of the most difficult mission we've ever attempted. We're going to go down there and we're going to find the information we're looking for. We're going to take this data back to Starfleet and we're going to use it to defeat these bungers. We're not going to let them rise from the grave and conquer us! We're going to take the battle to them and we're going to win!"

There was a shout in reply and Macen nodded, "We can do it. We are going to do it. As always, people are depending on us. We've never let them down before and we're not going to start now."

"That's right!" Daggit yelled and thrust out his hand, "To victory! Who's with me?"

The others put their hands on top of Daggit's and when the last hand rested itself upon the stock of others, they all broke their hands apart and yelled, "Hoo wah!"

"Take your positions." Macen ordered and they all drew their weapons and took up predetermined positions on the transporter pads.

Macen's eyes met Telrik's, "Energise."

The Tellarite nodded and activated the transporter. Halos of energy enveloped the team members as they began to disincorporate. The transporter room blurred and then refocused as…something else.

---

Chapter 12: Chapter 12

The investigative team materialised outside of the fissure that led to the interior of the Omicron mountain range. It was snowing on the mountains and their surrounding foothills. Heat could be felt radiating out of the giant opening into the mountain's side. Water ran off of the fissure's edges as the snow melted off of them.

The rain was clean and pure. It was potable and safe for a humanoid lifeform to drink. It was also coming down in sheets. Despite the inclement weather, the team approached the cavernous opening very slowly.

Every team member wore sensor glasses. Their light intensification mode was proving the most useful right now. Daggit took point and led the team to the edge of the fissure. He carefully scrutinised the area stretching out before them.

The interior of the fissure was lit by bioluminescent bulbs of some kind. Some of the bulbs were mounted in the floor, others in the walls. A third type floated about and appeared to eat the insects it attracted.

The walls opened up and expanded into a space equal to the length of the Obsidian. A massive chasm opened up in that space, spanned only by a land bridge. The bridge could easily accommodate six humanoids lined abreast as they marched across it. No lasers, radar, or obvious motion detectors guarded this entrance. Of course, given the Omicrons' mastery of biotech, they could have easily developed an intrusion detector that did not rely upon on any of the aforementioned methods.

Daggit shook himself and refocused. He looked back towards the others and his eyes met Macen's. Daggit pointed two fingers, one at each eye, and then pointed at the cavernous space stretching out before them and shook his head. Macen nodded and made a 'go' motion with his left hand.

Daggit drew his other pistol from the shoulder holsters and proceeded with a pistol in each hand. Travelling one by one, the others trailed along behind him. Macen followed in Daggit's wake. T'Kir, in turn, followed Macen. Parva travelled behind T'Kir. Kort trailed Parva and Radil brought up the rear.

The team entered into the foyer created the attachment of the land bridge to the cavern walls. Daggit and Macen slipped out ahead of the others to take a look at the chasm stretching out before them. There was no visible limit to its depths. It might very well stretch out to the planet's core from all that could be determined without the use of a tricorder.

"So," Daggit said conversationally, "are we going across?"

"We won't if you can find a better route." Macen remarked dryly.

"Sorry, Captain," Daggit grinned, "I'm fresh out of alternatives."

"Then it looks like the land bridge is our only way across this chasm." Macen replied.

"Right." Daggit nodded and approached the bridge. Macen followed a few steps behind and he kept his weapon poised in a two-handed grip for instant action. Daggit lifted his foot and slowly, ever so slowly, brought it down onto the surface of the land bridge. When there was no response, Macen motioned for the rest of the team to reform their procession.

The group moved forward as before. All six members of the procession had their weapons drawn and being aimed at every shadow and niche in the rock walls. Daggit reached the end of the bridge and stepped of to the side of the fissure that led into the heart of the mountain range. Macen took up position at the other side of the opening. Daggit leaned his head inside the opening and he took a quick look around.

"Clear." he reported in hushed tones as he withdrew his head. Macen echoed his actions, facing the opposite direction. He pulled his upper torso back into the bridge's landing and grinned.

"No one there." Macen said and removed his sensor glasses, "Let's get `em moving Rab."

"You're sure that's a good idea?" Daggit responded.

"Moving out or the glasses?"

"The glasses." Daggit replied, "We could still lose the lights."

Macen put the glasses in one of his belt's free utility pouches, "And I'll know right where they are for future use."

"Yes sir." Daggit said through gritted teeth. His mood worsened as he saw all of the team members, except Radil, remove and stow their eyewear as well. Daggit was in "combat" mode and his emotional ranges were virtually nonexistent but the psychotherapists that had developed his mental conditioning had allowed for feeling frustrated with superior officers that refused to listen to blindingly superior advice from subordinates.

"Very well, which way then?" Daggit asked, "Left or right?"

Macen stuck his upper torso back out into the passageway. He stretched out with all of his senses and sought some insight one where to proceed next. Drawing a blank, he telepathically sought T'Kir's opinion.

Which way sounds good to you?

They're about even. I sense active minds along both routes. T'Kir replied.

How close?

Hard to tell exactly. They seem closer down the left.

Thanks. Macen thought and told Daggit, "We'll go right."

"I take it T'Kir's not sensing any opponents in that direction." Daggit dryly inquired.

"Just get moving." Macen groaned.

---

The team had proceeded down the passageway for over fifteen minutes without encountering a single Omicron. Although they'd encountered several doors leading to rooms or passages other than the one they were currently travelling on, Macen had avoided deviating in order to minimise the chances of getting lost. T'Kir took hold of Macen's shirt and stopped him. As he presented her with a baffled expression, she pointed at a door across the passageway.

"We need to go in there." T'Kir insisted.

"I'm getting some vague emotional readings, but nothing concrete." Macen divulged, "Are you certain?"

That earned Macen a disgusted look, "There's two Omicron techs in there, as well as… something wonderful."

"Rab, Kort." Macen quietly called out, "We need to take down two hostiles, silently if possible."

"Certainly." Daggit replied and Kort nodded and then drew his knife. The Klingon released the blade and two "hilt" blades. The butt of the knife possessed a small spiked ball, converting the butt into a miniature mace.

Daggit's knife was very similar to a Bowie knife. Its differences lay in the handle, which was curved in such a way to allow for inverted grips and the serrated edge to the typically unsharpened "top" of the blade. He drew it from the sheath strapped to his left leg. T'Kir concentrated on the door's lock and it released. The door slid aside and the two startled Omicron techs bolted.

Daggit's knife flew into the throat of the Omicron reaching for one of his people's sceptre-like weapons. Daggit was in constant in motion. He caught the larger, gasping Omicron before he or she could hit the floor. Kort was immediately behind the second Omicron and he smashed a hand reaching for an orange telltale with his mace end. He then bisected the alien's throat with his blade.

The black blood that fell from the Omicrons severed arteries and veins was a viscous fluid that resembled petrochemically derived grease. It fell and oozed across the terminal the tech was seated at. T'Kir stormed into the room and Kort winced.

"It was an accident."

"Shh." T'Kir held her hand up to her lips and her eyes scrutinised the cylinder near the other side of the room. She slowly, almost reverently walked over to the cylinder. She traced the cylinder's outline with her fingers all while whispering to herself.

Kort cast a puzzled glance Macen's way as the Captain entered the area. Macen shrugged and began watching the show himself. Kort opened his mouth to speak to T'Kir when her fingers found a release on the cylinder. The upper and lower halves of the cylinder began to retract into the ceiling and floor respectively. Floating in an inner container was an enlarged brain and spinal column. Nerve bundles from tubes connecting to its housing were attached to the spinal column.

"By all that's holy…" Macen breathed, "T'Kir, what is this?"

She stood transfixed, "It's a computer."

"Incredible." Kort said in awe.

"Are all of the Omicron computers biological?" Macen enquired.

"It feels that way." T'Kir revealed, "I'm sensing hundreds of minds like this one and they're all connected to one massive supermind."

"So this is basically a terminal hooked up to a massive, living mainframe?" Macen sought clarification.

"Essentially." T'Kir confirmed.

"Is it capable of transferring data to our isolinear rods?" Macen asked.

"I think so but let me check out the interface terminal." T'Kir answered and proceeded to the console where Kort had killed the Omicron tech. He pushed the two metre tall body out of the way. It slumped out of the chair and hit the rock floor.

"Very cute, Kort." T'Kir wryly commented.

The Klingon was unapologetic, "It served its purpose."

"At least Omicrons wear loincloths resembling diapers. I'd hate to sit in his faeces." T'Kir's nose crinkled at the thought. As it was, the odour wafting out of the corpses was pungent enough. Thanks to her time with the Maquis, T'Kir was inured to the smell of death. Still, she opted to stand, just in case of any leakage.

She examined the station and then she began to telepathically query the Omicron computer. She marvelled at how fast the system responded and pulled up the data she was requesting. As a cyberengineer, she was studying the system's architecture. It ran counter to any synthetic system she'd ever encountered before. It was a true, living brain and functioned as such. Her telepathy provided a truer, direct interface with the computer than the Omicrons' control board.

"It can be done." T'Kir announced and inserted a data rod into a receptacle off to the side of the board.

"Download any information you can acquire regarding the Omicron's Ops plan and end goals." Macen instructed.

"Anything else, O Lord and Master." T'Kir quipped.

"The location of their ultramatter fragment would be nice." Macen remarked.

"Roger wilco, Captain my captain."

"You do realise that people only understand half of what you say?" Macen enquired.

T'Kir shrugged, "Y'all get the gist. That's all that counts."

"Y'all?" Macen laughed, "What're you? A Texan?"

T'Kir stuck out her tongue, a sure sign that she was ending the debate.

"Just download the data." Macen chuckled.

T'Kir telepathically relayed the information requests and the terminal's screens immediately came to life, displaying information at a rate beyond the average humanoid's ability to track. It encoded the data on the isolinear rod as fast as it could lay down the code. It recorded in Omicron. The translation matrix loaded in the microcomputer and the Obsidian's mainframe would be needed in order to interpret the data.

"Can you display interior views of the complex?" Macen asked.

T'Kir frowned and daily scenes of Omicron life began to unfold. Most of the pictures were innocuous. Then a picture of a massive brain and spinal column with thousands of nerves branching out from it appeared. It was easily three stories tall and the brain had the length of a Danube-class runabout and a width equal to its length. The height was equal to a runabout's.

"That's amazing." Macen idly commented.

"The nutrient tank is as complex as the bioengineering that enabled the Omicron to develop a superior computing system." T'Kir said in reverent tones.

"You sound like you're in love." Macen dryly commented.

"This system is the dream of every cybernetics engineer. It's the perfect fusion of the organic and synthetic."

Macen bristled, "The Borg claim the same thing."

T'Kir winced, "I know it may evoke a knee-jerk reaction with you but it's the truth. This is the capability ideal that drives cybernetics in the Federation."

Macen refused to be mollified, "See if you can pull up the location of the ultramatter."

T'Kir hesitated but then she nodded, "All right."

A schematic of the multiple levels of the mountain fortress appeared. It was as deep as it was tall. The ultramatter lay at the very heart of the sprawling complex. It would require a surprise assault in order to penetrate that deeply into the Omicrons' base.

The monitors suddenly turned orange and a flashing symbol dominated the screen.

"Frinx!" All eyes turned to T'Kir.

"They've locked us out." she explained, "We've tripped a security alarm. They know we're here and where we're at."

"How?" Macen asked.

"The computer." T'Kir complained, "It's sentient. It monitored what we requested and asked the central mainframe if we had clearance."

"And of course we don't."

"No, we don't." T'Kir fumed, "Even the techs that manned this post didn't have the clearance." She pulled the isolinear rod out of the terminal's data port. "We need to get out of here."

"We are." Macen confirmed, "Kort, alert Radil that she's now point and we're headed back to our point of entry. Also tell her that our anonymity's been blown. We're expecting company."

"Yes sir." Kort thumped his chest with his fist and departed.

"C'mon Rab, you're rearguard now." Macen informed his Tactical 1st.

"Right." came Daggit's terse reply.

---

The remaining trio retook their former positions in the SID procession. The order was reversed now with Radil leading the group back to the land bridge. The corridor was large enough to accommodate three abreast but the team remained in single file formation. Until they met the enemy, that is.

The first assault was a frontal attack upon Radil's position. She immediately opened fire upon the six charging Omicrons. Kort joined her side and began shooting her opponents. Radil was momentarily surprised and then she bared her teeth in a feral grin and redoubled her efforts.

The second surprise came out of a side door located just in front of Parva's place in line. She got a quick shot off on the lead Omicron but was about to be grappled by the second when T'Kir intervened. T'Kir raised her left hand and opened fire. She gunned down the offending Omicron and allowed Parva to regain her bearings by shooting down the third Omicron out the door. Parva cut down the fourth and the attack halted.

A larger group of ten ran up the corridor at Daggit. Rab pulled the second phaser out of its holster and began gunning down the Omicrons with both of his phasers. Employing a two handed grip, Macen stood beside Daggit mowing down the Omicron security forces.

"Jenrya," Macen yelled, "push forward! We can't lose our momentum."

Radil gritted her teeth and with Kort at her side she pressed forward. Her original six attackers were dead but three more had arrived. The security forces had the advantage of knowing the terrain and were using every curve in the trail and outcropping of rock as firing positions. Radil and Kort had to rely upon their marksmanship to even out the odds.

---

In the rearguard position, Daggit holstered his phasers and pulled free his grenade launcher. He pumped the slide and took aim. He fired the miniature torpedo at the wall beside the advancing Omicrons. The grenade detonated, causing a backlash of energy to envelop the native forces. Shards of rock flew off of the rock face of the corridor walls and decimated the advancing reinforcements.

"Good work." Macen said as they continued their running retreat, "We're almost there."

"How can you tell?" Daggit asked.

"We passed twenty-seven doors on the way in." Macen answered, "We've passed twenty-two on the way back."

They heard the familiar report of Radil's cannon and counted off the shots.

"They seem to be mostly coming from our direction." Daggit observed.

"From what little I could make out from the enhanced view of the base before the biocomputer shifted to a facility wide perspective," Macen described, "we were closer to a lift by going that way then if we would have turned left."

"So they're able to funnel more troops at us from multiple levels this way."

"Precisely." Macen said and began shooting at the latest wave of Omicron security officers.

Daggit racked another round into his launcher's chamber and took aim.

---

Aboard the Obsidian, Grace and Danan were refusing to leave their posts despite the fact that the gamma shift had begun and hour before.

"I'm not leaving until Brin and the others are back aboard and we're safely out of here." Danan hotly declared to Riker, "And it'll take an act of God or a stun blast from Security to make me change my mind, Tom."

"If it came to that, Lees, I'd just shoot you myself." Riker patted the surplus Militia phaser he wore and then he turned towards Grace, "And I suppose the same goes for you too."

"Damn straight!" Grace snapped off.

Riker sighed, "That's what I thought."

As he retook his seat, he glanced over towards the Engineering station where Rhiann was milling about. Riker shrugged and Rhiann offered him a wan smile in return.

"There has to be an easier way to make living." Riker muttered to himself.

---

Radil was two-thirds of the way across the land bridge when she stopped and turned around. Kort stopped beside her.

"What are you doing?"

"My job." Radil said with steel in her voice.

"Then serve with honour." Kort intoned.

"You too, my love." Radil replied, "And haul your butt back over to the landing."

Kort double-timed it off the bridge. T'Kir and Parva were the next to meet Radil.

"Keep going!" Radil yelled, "Go! Go! Go!"

Macen and Daggit brought up the rear. They were taking heavy fire. Daggit expended one grenade and then another. As soon as the grenade's discharge and shrapnel dispersed, the Omicrons pushed past the fallen bodies of their comrades and renewed the attack.

Radil opened fire to support their withdrawal. She picked off the Omicrons that spread out across the opposite landing. Macen and Daggit reached Radil's position and halted.

"We need to get the others out of here." Macen ordered, "Jenrya, gather up the troops and get clear of this area."

"But…" Radil began.

"No buts!" Macen snapped, "Just do it."

Radil slowly retreated back to the landing, all the while maintaining suppressive fire. The rest of the team had already joined their fire to hers and were pinning down the Omicrons to the left of their position while Radil gunned down those on the right. When Radil reached the others, she began issuing orders.

"The Captain wants you to exit the cave and await us out there."

"Whadd'ya mean 'us'?" T'Kir demanded, "I'm not leavin'."

"Damn it, T'Kir!" Radil barked, "Macen was specific."

"Not me." T'Kir flashed a manic grin, "I'm the exception to every rule."

"I'm not leaving either." Parva declared.

"I cannot abandon you." Kort cried out.

Radil's shoulders sagged as she aimed and fired her next shot, "You're all facing Macen, not me."

"Not a prob." T'Kir dismissed Radil's concerns.

---

Meanwhile Macen had resumed crossing the bridge and Daggit was just now restarting his retreat. He fired off another grenade and then pumped his launcher and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. With no time to spare reloading, Daggit holstered the launcher and pulled his two phaser pistols free.

Macen kept up a constant rate of fire and had just reached the landing when Daggit was hit in the leg. Macen rushed forward despite Radil's efforts to grab him.

"Rab?" Macen asked as he came alongside Daggit.

"I'm fine." Daggit replied through gritted teeth, "Got hit worse that time on Minok V."

"I remember." Macen replied, thinking of that particular adventure behind Dominion lines, "Can you travel?"

"Just keep walking, sir." Daggit urged, "I'll be right behind you."

Reluctantly, and at T'Kir's shouted insistence, Macen returned to the landing. Parva was frantic.

"No!" she snarled, "We're not leaving him!" T'Kir and Kort held her back. Macen and Radil kept up their covering fire.

"I have no intention of leaving him." Macen yelled back.

"You lie!" Parva hissed. T'Kir applied a nerve pinch and the Orion went slack.

She and Kort began dragging the engineer out of the cavern. Macen and Radil stood their ground until T'Kir sent back a telepathic warning. Some type of membrane was sealing the mouth of the fissure up. Kort and T'Kir had already carried Parva out of harm's way. Radil and Macen began to hurry out of the cavern space.

"Rab!" Macen called out, "Run!"

Daggit had reached the landing and at Macen's warning he glanced back and saw the closing organic "door". Macen and Radil made it through but the space was getting awfully narrow.

"Hurry Rab!" Macen exclaimed.

"Go!" Daggit yelled as he hobbled along, "Forget about me. Think of the mission and go! I'll keep them busy for you."

"No." Macen said quietly, "No!"

Radil grabbed Macen by the arm, "It's my job to keep you safe, sir, and I'm telling you you're not going in there after him."

Macen violently swore and stepped back. The membrane sealed just as Daggit reached it. It was a translucent green and those to either side of the barrier could see one another. Daggit snapped off a crisp salute and then turned and resumed firing at the pursuing Omicrons. Macen fired into the membrane. There was a burning smell but the membrane healed so swiftly that the beam made little impact.

"Want me to try?" Radil asked.

"No." Macen said in resignation, "We're getting out of here."

"Sir?"

"You heard the man, the mission comes first. I won't dishonour him by refusing to do my duty." Macen said with grim finality, "Join the others."

Radil trudged over to where T'Kir and Kort held up Parva.

Macen spared Daggit one last glance. The Omicrons had overwhelmed him and were dragging him away. Macen's jaw clenched. He'd lost people in battle before, but he'd never abandoned one before. Angrily, he joined the others.

"She's gonna be pissed when she wakes up." T'Kir warned nodding at Parva's unconscious form.

"We'll take measures." Macen assured her.

"Good." T'Kir nodded her head forcibly, "Cus I'm too young to be a widow."

Macen tapped his comm badge, "Telrik, five to beam up."

"Yes sir." A moment later the familiar sense of dislocation overwhelmed the investigative team.

---

Chapter 13: Chapter 13

The investigative team rematerialised in the Obsidian's transporter room. Telrik saw Parva's condition and went for the comm button on the transporter's control console.

"Belay that, Mr. Telrik." Kort informed the Transporter Chief, "Parva is all right."

Telrik blinked in confusion but subsided. If the ship's Chief Medical Officer felt there was no danger then why should he? Macen turned to Radil and Kort.

"Lock her up in a cell in the brig." Macen grimly ordered, "I'll deal with her later."

T'Kir passed off her half of Radil's body to Radil and stepped back. Radil and Kort exchanged worried glances and then set off for the brig. Macen tapped his comm badge as they were leaving.

"Tom, this is Macen. Set course for Earth and proceed at our best possible speed."

"Aye, sir." came Riker's reply.

"So now what?" T'Kir asked.

"Now we hurry off to the bridge and try to avoid getting killed by the inevitable Omicron bioship."

"Good plan."

---

Macen and T'Kir emerged from the turbolift and strode onto the bridge. Macen assessed the situation and began issuing orders.

"Lees, light up the sensors. They already know we're here."

Danan activated the sensors and began studying the various readings. Macen shifted his attention to Grace.

"Hannah, push as hard as you can to get through this debris field." Macen instructed, "We need to get back to Earth as fast as we can."

"You got it." Grace replied, "But where's Rab? Is he hurt?"

"He was left behind." Macen said simply, "We can mourn later. We have a mission to complete."

"But…"

"There are no 'buts' Hannah." Macen said harshly, "The Omicrons have Rab now. May the Fates have mercy on him."

---

Daggit's arms were being held by an Omicron to either side of him. They hadn't bothered to disarm him beyond taking his phasers away. They were holding Daggit on the bridge. Other Omicron troops milled about and then they snapped to attention.

An Omicron began approaching wearing a bandolier adorned with a golden symbol. It was the same symbol that had flashed on the computer monitors when the alarm was triggered. The way the other Omicrons deferred to him indicated he was a high ranking leader of some kind. Daggit steeled himself for the inevitable interrogation.

The Omicron officer stopped in front of Daggit. Using his captors for support, Daggit kicked his legs out at the officer. The Omicron merely stepped back and laughed a harsh laugh. He wore a cruel smile.

"I take it we've been raided by Captain Brin Macen." the Omicron's gravelly voice grated.

Daggit remained silent and the Omicron released a malicious chuckle, "Given the reports of your prowess in battle and your chosen armaments, I'd guess that you're Macen's Tactical Specialist, Rab Daggit."

"And if I were to guess, you're the head of this facility's Security Forces." Daggit replied coldly.

"Of the entire Omicron Imperium." The officer boasted, "Ezexial warned us of your group. We've been expecting you."

"You won't get anything from me." Daggit vowed.

"I don't plan to." the officer's smile grew, "Throw him off!"

Daggit's captors hurled him off the bridge and he sailed down into the darkness of the abyss. The Omicron officer laughed.

"Let the Lowlies have him." he pronounced and the rest of his men laughed as well.

---

"We're clear of the debris field!" Grace announced, "Preparing to go to warp speed."

"I have an Omicron cruiser on approach." Danan reported.

"Do you have it Shannon?" Macen asked.

Forger manned Tactical in Daggit's absence since there was no need for a 2nd Officer when the CO and XO were both present. She was also more qualified for the position than the gamma shift Tactical officer. She'd faced Dominion forces while filling that role.

"I have him." Forger confirmed, "Raising shields and ion shields. Weapons are hot and ready for use."

"Engage the warp engines." Macen ordered.

"Yessir." Grace replied and slipped the ship into subspace.

Macen activated the intercom to Engineering, "We're going to need maximum warp for as long as you can sustain it."

"Aye, aye." was Gilan's response.

"Now the chase is on." Macen told Riker.

---

Daggit didn't know long he'd hung there, embroiled in some kind of massive spider web. It had been a two hours at least. He estimated that the Obsidian should have cleared the system by now. She'd be at high warp, headed for Earth and getting further away every second.

Daggit cursed himself for being so supremely confident in his combat abilities. His overconfidence had left him alone and abandoned on a hostile world. To top it all off, he was about to be eaten by some horrible creature. If he could just free his arms, he could reload his launcher and use his knife to liberate himself.

Daggit strained with all of his impressive might and managed to rip the strands of webbing holding his arms in place. He pulled his knife free and began hacking at the webbing suspending his body. Eventually, he cut his way to the surface of the chasm he'd plunged down. The webs had saved his life and he was grateful. He really hoped he wouldn't have to kill the creature or creatures that had spun this web.

Looking about, he realised that someone or something had gathered up phosphorescent mosses and algae and staggered them about where he stood. Looking further down the horizon, clusters of lights were everywhere. They seemed to be the most concentrated half a kilometre or so away.

Daggit proceeded towards the cluster of light when he heard a strange scuttling sound. It sounded like six padded feet. Daggit swiftly loaded his grenade launcher and pumped the action on it, loading the first grenade.

A bizarre sight emerged from the shadows. The creature possessed the upper torso of an Omicron and the lower body of a spider. The lower body sprouted six legs. The Omicron torso wielded two arms.

Daggit took aim and the creature spoke, "Oi mate, what're you doin' down `ere and what the `ell did you do t'me web?"

"You speak Federation Standard?" Daggit asked in amazement.

"Naw." the spider being waved that assumption aside, "The microbes livin' in the fungus down `ere act as translators. They lets you read the thoughts of uvvers when they talk. You got infected the moment you arrived. Probably living on me web, they was."

"Pardon my asking, but what are you?"

"I'm a Lowlie." The being explained, "I'm a 'failed experiment'. The Lord High Mucky Mucks in charge o' creatin' new lifeforms hatched me and then decided that they didn't want me. I didn't serve no purpose y'see. Tressib's me name."

"Mine's Rab Daggit." Daggit informed Tressib, "Is this where you eat me?"

Tressib laughed, a truly mind altering sight, "Naw. Me web's there to catch Lowlies when they throw `em off the bridge."

"Throw them off the bridge?"

"Like they did t'you, mate." Tressib answered, "When a Lowlie gets made, they toss `em down `ere. The fall used t'kill most of `em. But a few survived and created the Lowlie habitat. Since I arrived, we've `ad a 100% success rate at savin' the newbies."

"And now I'm here." Daggit said.

"Yeah, I ain't never seen anythin' like you before." Tressib admitted, "I'm supposin' you're an alien rather than a Lowlie."

"That's right." Daggit said, "So what happens now?"

"Well, now you put that weapon away and I take you to the habitat where we'll grab a bite t'eat." Tressib suggested, "I'll introduce you t'me mates."

"I suppose you're referring to your friends rather than a spouse."

Tressib laughed again. The jiggling motion threatened to shake him apart, "That's a good one, mate. Me, I'm one o' a kind. Who'd I mate with?"

"Good point." Daggit mused, "Something to consider."

"All the Lowlies are unique and they're all male." Tressib explained, "There's no reproducin' down `ere. Now, you want to meet me mates or not?"

"Lead on Tressib, lead on." Daggit holstered the launcher and Tressib turned around and motioned for Daggit to walk beside him, "By the way, what is there to eat?"

"Lots o' algae." Tressib chuckled, "Get used t'it."

"There's water?"

"A whole underground lake. You'll see it soon enough."

---

"They're catching up." Forger announced, "They'll be in estimated firing range in 1.2 minutes."

Macen looked over at Riker, "Now we find out if that shield is worth anything."

"I'd prefer a gentler field test." Riker confessed.

"So would I but that's just not going to happen." Macen replied.

"Time to weapon's range 3 seconds." Forger announced, "two…one…they're firing!"

Two balls of energy erupted out of the bioship's fins. They travelled faster than the speed of light and impacted the Obsidian. The ship's shields held but Macen ordered Grace to drop them out of warp.

"Let's make them think we're hurt worse then we are." Macen grinned.

Riker joined him in the grin, "I like it."

"I want you to direct most of this engagement, Tom." Macen informed Riker.

Riker's grin vanished, "I just lost a ship, Brin."

"And you won't lose another. You just need to prove it to yourself." Macen's grin blossomed into a smile, "I'll be right here."

That seemed to mollify Riker, "Helm, bring us about. Tactical, prepare to fire all weapons."

The bioship loomed on the viewer. The skin of the bioship rippled as its muscles contracted. A massive electrical discharge burst forth from the bioship and the ion blast lanced into the Obsidian. The energy enveloped the ship but the ion shield held. The blast dissipated without causing any damage.

The bioship fired its ion burst again but it was met with the same results. Forger opened fire with the torpedoes and the phasers. Gaping wounds appeared in the bioship's skin but just as soon as it was afflicted, the wounds began knitting.

The bioship began firing particle beams at the Federation surveyor. The shields took a hit and Riker ordered auxiliary power thrown to the shields. The two ships darted and weaved around each other exchanging fire. It soon became apparent that the Omicron ship had the advantage in firepower. It was taking significant damage and its self repair systems were slowing.

Riker was about to order the Obsidian back into warp speed when another ship dropped out of subspace. The USS Defiant came at the bioship, pulse phasers firing. The bioship reeled and it fired its ion blast. The Defiant shrugged it off and began firing its quantum torpedoes.

The bioship ceased fire, broke and ran. Riker ordered Grace to contact the Defiant's helm and coordinate proceeding out of the system at warp 6. Commander Vaughn hailed the Obsidian.

"Nice work, Macen." The elderly Starfleet officer, who still looked to be in his late sixties, congratulated the Obsidian's Captain.

"It wasn't me, Elias." Macen replied, "The credit goes to my 1st Officer."

"I was wondering." Vaughn grinned, "It didn't have your trademark madcap style. My congratulations then to you Mr. Riker."

"Thank you." Riker nodded in acknowledgement of Vaughn's praise.

"So, Brin, you've escaped. Now what are your plans?" Vaughn wondered.

"My next stop is Earth." Macen replied.

"We can escort you as far as DS9." Vaughn promised, "I don't know what'll happen then."

"That's more than enough." Macen replied gratefully, "By the way, how did you come to be exactly where we needed you?"

"Captain Kira sent us. We followed your trail to Omicron then laid in wait along your route home. Our sensors picked up you and the Omicron ship and we came running."

"Much to our eternal relief." Macen said.

"And you protested our coming out here with you." Vaughn teased.

"I've been shown the error of my ways." Macen vowed.

Vaughn chuckled, "If only it were true."

"Would you care to join us for dinner later?" Macen asked.

Vaughn flashed a brilliant smile, "I'd love to."

"We'll see what we can arrange." Macen promised.

"Until later then, or until trouble strikes again." Vaughn signed off.

"Lover, does he know you." T'Kir said to Macen.

"You don't know the half of it." Macen assured her.

---

Macen joined Radil in the brig where an infuriated Parva was doing her best to take her cell apart. Upon seeing Macen, Parva ceased all activity and coiled up like a predatory cat. Her teeth were bared and her eyes were wild. Macen was reminded that Orion women had a reputation for savagery.

"You left him." Parva accused, "You said you wouldn't yet you did."

"I had no choice." Macen calmly replied, "Rab wanted me to leave him so I could report to Starfleet."

"Liar!" Parva screamed.

"Its true, Parva." Radil informed her, "I was there. Rab wanted us to leave him. He stayed behind to keep the Omicrons busy."

"He died because of you." Parva hissed, "The only man I've ever loved is dead because of you!"

"He's not dead." Macen said quietly.

"What?" Parva was flabbergasted.

"I'd know if he were dead, just like I'd know it about any member of the investigative team. I sense probabilities shifting around a person. If Rab were dead, I would have felt his absence in the universe. I would have seen it as a possibility before we went into action. I've seen it before and some of those people died, others lived. It all depended on what whim the Fates followed next."

"Spare me your El-Aurian mysticism." Parva replied yet was pacified somewhat.

"Can you perform your duties?" Macen asked.

"Of course." Parva seemed offended.

"I'm going back for him, Parva." Macen promised, "I've never left a man behind before and I don't intend to start now."

"You'd better not." Parva growled, "You let me out of here and I'll do my duty. But when we go back, if he's dead, we'll finish this conversation."

"Fair enough." Macen said and nodded for Radil to drop the cell's forcefield, "Gilan has the engines buttoned down. I suggest you get some rest before your shift starts again."

"Just remember, we're going back and he'd better be alive."

"I've got that loud and clear."

"Good." Parva huffed and left the brig with one last snarl at the Security officer posted there.

"I hope he's alive, for your sake." Radil said.

"Tell me about it." Macen muttered as he departed.

---

Macen and T'Kir ate a quiet dinner in their quarters that night. The day's events had left both of them exhausted. T'Kir stabbed at her pasta with her fork, looking across the table at Macen.

"So, how'd Parva take the news?"

"About as well as could be expected." Macen confessed, "I told her Rab was still alive and that we were going to go back and get him."

"And?" T'Kir asked after swallowing a mouthful.

Macen swallowed and took a drink, "She insinuated that she'd kill me if any of that weren't true."

"So you…"

"Let her out of the brig." Macen took another mouthful and began chewing.

"She threatens to kill you so you let her out of the brig?" T'Kir's voice began rising, "Are you frinxing insane?"

"Not really." Macen countered, "Rab is alive, for now at least. Of course he could die between now and our return."

"Which means we'd still be dealing with a homicidal Orion." T'Kir lamented.

"Don't worry, you can take her." Macen grinned.

"You're assuming that I'll still want to save your worthless hide." T'Kir sullenly pushed her plate away.

Macen pushed his plate away as well, "C'mon, I'll recycle the dishes and then we can snuggle on the couch and catch up on some reading."

"Okay." T'Kir agreed, "You'd better not end up dead over this."

"I won't."

"You'd better not."

"He's alive and everything will turn out for the best in the end."

"Good."

---

Three days passed without incident. The Obsidian and the Defiant reached the Bajor sector and the Starfleet ship dropped out of warp. As previously agreed to, Vaughn raised the alarm upon reaching his base of operations. Soon every starship and Starbase in the quadrant knew of the SID ship's driving quest to reach Earth and traffic was being moved out of her path.

As soon as they were in range of Starfleet's subspace relays, Macen began reporting to Admiral Drake. He gave her details of their mission and of their discoveries. Drake was alarmed at the scope of the Omicron's plans. She also had good news.

"Every Omicron bioship in the quadrant has apparently been recalled. The Klingons and the Romulans are reporting the same thing." Drake informed Macen.

"They're preparing for invasion." he said grimly, "It's time to gather our forces."

"The Klingons and the Cardassians are willing but the Romulans are still holding out." Drake revealed, "Even the Tholians and the Gorn are suddenly willing to talk after their 'ally's' sudden betrayal and departure."

"That's good." Macen observed, "I have another ally in mind but it's a wait and see kind of thing."

"Who?" Drake wondered.

"I'd rather not raise your hopes." Macen replied, "I'll let you know when I have something more concrete."

"Then I'll see you when you reach Earth."

---

Three days later, Parva was complaining about the toll being exacted on her engines. The Obsidian dropped out of warp and sailed into the Sol system. She proceeded at maximum impulse and swiftly passed the Jupiter boundary. The Mars defensive perimeter was the next barrier to be crossed.

The ship passed through the inner system and cruised past the Sun. Coming through, she was on course to pass Earth. As she did a bullet burn past Earth and Luna, the Obsidian transmitted all of her data stores containing the Omicron database they'd downloaded. With that accomplished, she kept on going out of the system.

"What are you doing?" Drake said as she hailed them, "Where are you going?"

"We have a date on New Kelva." Macen ignored Grace turning around suddenly and staring at him.

Drake's mouth hung open and then she recovered her composure, "Good luck with that."

Macen dismissed her sour tone, "Once you review the Omicron's plan, you'll see why I'm positive that we can persuade the Kelvan's to join in this battle on our side."

"Then good luck." Drake said with conviction, "I mean it this time. We need all the help we can get."

"Especially help with their capabilities." Macen agreed.

"Until later then." Drake said and terminated her transmission.

"Set the course Hannah." Macen said softly.

"But they…" Grace stumbled, "I…"

"It'll be okay, Hannah." Macen reassured her, "Now set the course."

With one final sigh, Grace plotted the course and laid it in, "Course set."

"Go for maximum warp and engage."

"Parva'll hate us." Grace warned.

"I'm learning I can live with that." Macen informed her.

---

It still took the Obsidian nearly two days to reach New Kelva. She'd sustained warp 9.65 for twelve hours and then dropped to warp 6. As predicted, her chief engineer was in a foul mood. Not only over the abuse her engines were receiving but also over this detour from returning to Omicron.

Two systems out from Kelva, the Obsidian was challenged. She dropped out of warp and was intercepted by a Kelvan cruiser. It possessed an ovular shape with two rounded outcroppings to either "side" of the ship. It was roughly the size and shape of a Sabre-class starship.

The transmission was audio only, "State your identity and purpose."

"My name is Brin Macen. I am the Captain of the Federation starship Obsidian." Macen paused for effect, "I am here to discuss matter of Kelvan security with Parvac."

There was silence for several minutes then the coolly detached voice returned, "Very well, follow us at subspace factor five."

"Grace?" Macen asked as the transmission terminated.

"That's roughly warp six." she replied, "Don't worry, I can do the conversions."

Her hands flew across her board and the surveyor leapt back in to subspace for ten minutes then she dropped out of warp. The Kelvan system lay before them and it was full. A half-dozen more of the cruiser types were floating about as well as two of the Kelvan style battlecruisers. The twin spired ships were more than twice the size of a Galaxy-class explorer. The cruiser led them to Kelvan orbit and then reversed course and departed the system in the direction it had arrived in.

"They're hailing us." T'Kir reported, "You gonna answer?"

"Put it on screen'" Macen instructed.

The viewer's image shifted from Kelva's skies to a picture of a robust middle-aged man who was smiling, "Captain Macen, a pleasure to see you again."

"You may not think so after you review the data I've brought, Parvac." Macen warned.

Parvac frowned, "Really? What kind of data is this?"

"A plan for conquering the galaxy and then attacking your people." Macen answered, " Well first you and then the Borg."

"Ah, the cybernetic creatures." Parvac was pleased to catch this reference, "Do you honestly think that this is possible?"

"Given enough numbers and subject races working for them, I think anything is possible." Macen replied.

"Then I suppose you had better employ that matter-energy conversion device of yours and transport yourself to my ship." Parvac insisted.

"Give my people the coordinates where you'd like me to arrive at and I'll be there momentarily." Macen informed him.

"Excellent. Perhaps we can lay this matter to rest." Parvac suggested

"I'd like nothing more." Macen assured him.

---

Chapter 14: Chapter 14

Parvac greeted Macen in a cargo bay, "Welcome Captain. Please feel free to consider this ship a secondary home."

"Most generous." Macen replied, "However, I can see why you'd find this ship to be home, but its alien soil to me."

Parvac chuckled, "Men like you and I make our homes aboard the ships we serve. If you were to serve aboard this vessel, you would make a home here."

Macen rubbed his hairy chin before answering, "You're probably right."

Parvac slapped Macen on the shoulder, "Of course I am."

"You've really gotten into this being human thing haven't you?" Macen enquired and Parvac laughed.

"So, how is Hannai?" Parvac asked, using Grace's Kelvan name.

"She's doing well." Macen remarked, "Remarkably well considering what she's given up."

"The choice was hers to make." Parvac replied in return.

"I think, for her, she made the right one." Macen admitted, "She'd been away from your people for so long and assimilated so well, I think she eventually feared rejoining you. She's sitting on the bridge of my ship right now dreading the very idea that she may be summoned to partake in our discussions."

"Then perhaps we should summon her." Parvac said gruffly, "No Kelvan should cower in fear."

"You forget," Macen warned, "That unlike Rojan and his crew and unlike your recent arrivals, she was born human with all the emotions and sensations that go along with it. You've had weeks, and in Rojan's scouts' case, year to slowly adjust. Grace was born this way with no memory of how it felt to be a true Kelvan. In addition to that, she's lived amongst true humans for ten years. In the human world, fear is a daily experience. What hallmarks a person is how they deal with that fear. She's afraid but she'd come if she were called. That sets her apart in my estimation."

"It is strange, I feel for her. I feel…pity is the emotion I believe I am after." Parvac revealed.

"Welcome to your own human experience." Macen grinned.

Parvac nodded, "Maybe so. Now let's adjourn to our tactical centre and see this information you are carrying."

---

Before departing the Obsidian, Macen had picked up T'Kir's microcomputer and all the original isolinear data rods containing the translation matrixes and the Herzet and Omicron data. Warned by Grace that the Kelvan ships would be twenty degrees cooler, he'd worn his flight jacket. It was a waist length, black leather coat that was favoured by Starfleet fighter crews. It possessed a Mandarin collar and a zippered front with buckled straps as a back up. The straps led to a "rib cage" that sported raised leather strips that the straps merged into. The flat strips melded seamlessly into the flat panel's that comprised the back of the jacket.

Parvac complimented Macen on his choice of attire. Macen didn't understand why until he saw various Kelvan crewmen carrying on about their business. They wore synthetic uniform blouses styled in a similar fashion. The Kelvan uniform looked remarkably like the Starfleet uniform of the late 23rd and early 24th centuries. Only there's was composed of some kind of black leather. The uniform also clasped its front flap with D-ring buckles like Macen's jacket.

Like Macen, all the Kelvans were armed. Only they were armed with their seemingly limitless Attuners, the mysterious devices that translated thoughts into reality. Fortunately, the Kelvans had to understand the make up of an object or being in order to affect it. They could also transport others across vast distances if they knew the exact coordinates of the destination. It explained why a technologically advanced species such as the Kelvans had never attempted to construct a transporter.

Despite the Kelvans' proclaimed openness, their insistence upon Macen's beaming over to a cargo bay retained their secrets. Those secrets included the locations of their bridge and other vital centres. After a turbolift ride to parts unknown, Macen was led to an anonymous door. The door opened akin to a French door and the ship's Tactical Centre stood revealed.

The space was a semicircle, rounded at one end and square at the other. The square end possessed a table with various controls on a lower lip beneath the table's edge. The circular part of the room was set up almost identically as the Herzet holomap room. A central projector dominated the centre of the area.

Various controls, monitors and stations encircled the room's central features. A half-dozen Kelvans stood post at various stations. Three Kelvans stood around the table. Parvac headed for the table.

Parvac stopped and held up a hand towards Macen, "This is Captain Brin Macen. Present yourselves."

A fair-haired man of indeterminate age held out his hand, "This is the traditional greeting, yes?"

Macen grasped the man's hand, "Perfectly executed."

The man seemed relieved, "I am Kiln."

A woman with the same timeless quality approached and shook Macen's hand, "I am Rea."

The third, an apparent youth eagerly approached as soon as Rea stepped back, "I'm Gozer. Is my syntax correct?"

Macen patted him on the shoulder, "You're doing fine."

"Can you tell us about the Federation?" Gozer blurted, "We have so many questions."

"Gozer!" Parvac admonished, "We are here to conduct military business not engage in some kind of comparative history class."

Gozer bowed his head, "I apologise. My fate is yours to decide."

Parvac smiled, "I believe I can forgive one such outburst due to your youthful exuberance and the nature of our guest."

"I'm a refugee the same as you." Macen informed them, "The Federation is my adoptive home, as it can be yours if you so choose."

The prospect excited Gozer. Kiln and Rea were each warily tentative. Parvac's emotions were carefully neutral. At a glance from Parvac, the other three quelled their emotions and adopted blank expressions.

"Captain Macen has brought us information which he claims will reveal a threat to our people." Parvac announced, "I want you to verify or debunk his claims."

Rea approached Macen and held out her hand, "The data please."

Macen handed her a crystal, "This one allows you to translate this one. That one translates this third one and the third one outlines the plan to attack your people."

"We shall see." Rea replied coolly. Gozer accompanied her to a workstation. Kiln stood back and supervised their work.

---

A few moments later, Rea and Gozer were in a deep discussion with Kiln. Kiln reviewed the data they'd perused. The individual pages of information were only viewed for a few seconds yet the Kelvans felt confident they had a firm grasp on the data being presented.

Kiln approached Parvac and the two stepped aside for a quiet conference. Macen could feel surprise and then outrage emanate from Parvac. When the Kelvan Commander next spoke to Macen, it was with barely contained fury.

"Give us their coordinates and we shall deal with them." Parvac vowed.

"Don't you have to answer to a civilian Chief of State?" Macen wondered.

"Rojan is our civil leader." Parvac described, "He is in charge of our re-education and of constructing domiciles for us all. I am the supreme authority concerning all military matters."

"I see." Macen replied thoughtfully, "Then I ought to tell you, my crew and I will be accompanying you."

"You have done your part." Parvac declared, "Your ship is vastly inferior to ours and will only get in our way. I would not wish to destroy you be accident."

"I don't intend to fight. I plan to reach Omicron and retrieve a fellow officer I left behind." Macen informed him.

"Your officer is lost. Forget him." Parvac said coldly.

"I can't do that." Macen stated firmly, "He'd come back for me. I owe him the same loyalty."

"You are adamant about this?"

"Never more so in my life. In fact, I won't give you the location of Omicron without your permission for us to accompany you." Macen bluffed. The location was found on the Herzet database but they hadn't perused it yet."

"We could force the information from you." Parvac declared.

"You could try." Macen said, "Hannah…Hannai made that mistake once."

"I see." Parvac pondered Macen's words, "We could strike out at your crew."

"A move that would only strengthen my resolve." Macen revealed.

Parvac wrestled with his options. Rea interrupted his ponderings.

"Sir, we've located this 'Omicron'."

Parvac stared at Macen, dumbfounded, "You knew we could find this at any time yet you dared to try and deceive me?"

"Yes." Macen admitted, "I need to be in on this mission."

"Very well." Parvac agreed, "I was about to consent anyway. Your devotion to your crewman is inspiring to my kind. Up until recently we felt no feelings regarding one another whatsoever. A slain or lost officer was simply abandoned to their fate. Yet your conviction to save your man stirs feelings within me I have never encountered before. I cannot ignore this compulsion to accede to your request."

"Thank you." Macen said quietly, "When do we depart?"

"Immediately." Parvac said enthusiastically, " I will take half of my forces. The pickets will remain as well as my other battlecruiser."

"The forces arrayed against you will be formidable." Macen warned.

"I have engaged one of these Omicron cruisers before, remember? This time we will not hold back." Parvac wore a feral smile, "We will take you into one of docking bays for the transwarp voyage there and release you when we engage the enemy. Equitable enough?"

Macen shook Parvac's hand, "That's perfect."

---

Macen safely returned to the Obsidian. Once aboard, he shared the name of Parvac's battlecruiser. Touting the ominous title of Annihilator, the ship had been built for one purpose. Its redesignated role as a defensive craft had only come about with the near total destruction of the Kelvan race.

Neither Grace nor Parvac had yet discussed what or who had nearly wiped out the galactic wide empire birthed by their ancestors. Parvac had hinted that it stemmed from the Kelvans love of war and conquest. Macen had unleashed that aspect of them and it would be a terrible study to witness how effective they truly were at conquest.

Conquest wouldn't be an adequate term for what Parvac had in mind. His goal was the utter destruction of the Omicron fleet. Macen had to wonder if he was uncaging the beast that would next cast its eye on the Federation. He didn't have time for that concern now. His immediate goal was stopping the Omicrons.

While waiting for the Annihilator's signal to begin the docking procedure, Macen made a swift report to Admirals Drake and Nechayev. He sent the signal just in time for the Kelvans to contact the Obsidian. Grace received their instructions and proceeded to the "underside" of the pedestal that formed the base of the twin towers that comprised the bulk of the battlecruiser. Once there, they found a massive set of doors hanging open for them. Grace manoeuvred the Obsidian into the cavernous space that lay revealed with room to spare. Once there, they placed the impulse engines on stand by and waited for the Kelvans next instructions.

---

"You mean you're ready to strike but you've just been waiting for a leader?" Daggit asked incredulously.

"You got it in one, mate." Tressib replied, "We've got the manpower for a revolt, we're just lackin' the necessary military skills and leadership."

Daggit could believe it. Despite the Lowlies innate hatred for the Omicrons, they were among the most passive people he'd ever encountered. They had access to the lowest level of the Omicron fortress through a tunnel connecting the Lowlies' domain and the city. They'd never once entered it. Tressib had set up webs there but he never discussed what he did with the wayward Omicrons that became caught in them.

The arachnoid in question was currently polishing off a tub of algae paste. Although Daggit had been forced to subsist on captured Breen rations when caught behind enemy lines, he'd never gained an appreciation for algae paste. After this little adventure was done, he doubted he'd ever eat it again no matter how desperate the situation. He tasted the lie in that vow even as he made it. His conditioning would force him to eat any available foodstuffs on hand.

Tressib put down the algae paste container, "Actually mate, we wuz thinkin' o' askin' you to lead our little revolution."

Daggit had suspected this when Tressib and the other Lowlie leaders began discussing their plans with him but he was still surprised, "You barely know me. What makes you think I'm qualified?"

"Yore a soldier, mate, which is a `elluva lot more than the rest o' us." Tressib argued.

Daggit thought about and then asked, "How many of you are there?"

"All told, there's roughly fifteen hunnert o' us."

"All right, I'll do it." Daggit conceded, "When can you be ready?"

"Try thirty minutes." Tressib said and scuttled off to spread the word.

Daggit checked his ammo. He still had fifty rounds for the grenade launcher, not counting the six in it already. He had his knife. He also had dozens of power packs for his phasers. The phasers had been stripped from him but the packs would make convenient bombs.

Daggit was looking forward to upsetting the Omicrons' daily lives. He imagined that he could maintain a guerrilla war for weeks if need be. Hopefully within that time Starfleet and its allies would be arriving and he would be rescued from his inadvertent incarceration here. The Lowlies were friendly enough but he was a stranger among them. He wanted to return to his unit, his crew…his family.

For twenty-six years, Daggit had belonged to a division, a team, or a defined group. In all that time, he'd never been alone. This was a new experience for him and one that he found to be terrifying. He longed for the simplicity of combat. At least while he was fighting he was incapable of loneliness.

As promised, Tressib had the entire Lowlie community gathered around Daggit in thirty minutes. Daggit surveyed the various adaptations of the Omicron genome and marvelled at the lengths the Omicrons would go to to try and improve their species. Soon Daggit was requesting specific abilities. Those with them presented themselves at the head of the assembled ranks.

Soon, Daggit had designated five divisions of three hundred. One was to remain behind and secure the Lowlie's line of retreat. The other four were tasked with destroying the "super" computer brain and securing the ultramatter relic. This was paramount in the minds of the Lowlies.

They did not wish to see another Lowlie or bioengineered person or thing created through the use of the ultramatter. They were willing to sacrifice all their lives in order to see this goal become a reality. Daggit wouldn't deny them their chance at fulfilling this dream. Instead he was going to do everything in his power to make it a reality.

"Are you ready?" he shouted at the assembled throng.

"Yes!" they shouted back. It least Daggit registered it as a shout. Knowing it was all inside his head just made it hurt. He wondered how T'Kir kept her sanity. He paused and reflected that she didn't always keep her sanity.

He could understand why. Maybe the microbes affected him differently since he wasn't an Omicron but he could read thoughts that weren't associated with speech. All that was required was for the person to be thinking in sentences and Daggit could "overhear" them. The "noise" he was getting from the crowd threatened to overwhelm him.

Daggit shrugged it off and yelled, "Let's go!" and he charged off for the access tunnel with twelve hundred Lowlies in his wake.

---

In high orbit above Omicron, the Omicron fleet filled the skies and the near space. The bioships floated in space, their fins undulating and their tails twitching. Every Omicron ship was assembled and loaded with their invasion force.

The ships had originally been scheduled for recall in order to bring the Omicron ground forces aboard. The Lord High Ship Liege had joined the fleet and was anticipating a swift and crushing defeat of the expected attack from the Federation and its allies. The information Ezexial had gathered on the Federation, combined with the Omicron's battle tested tactics and weaponry, indicated that this battle would be completely one-sided.

Although there was a lingering doubt based upon the Federation raiders that had effortlessly shrugged off the ion weapons of the pursuing Omicron bioship. The possibility of the Federation having countered the Omicrons' primary weapon was disappointing but the bioships' particle weapons were powerful enough to adequately do the job. The High Ship Liege's oral orifice curled upward into a satisfied smile. This would be a glorious battle that would establish Omicron's return to intergalactic prominence.

---

"Prepare for transwarp passage." a Kelvan junior officer brusquely informed the crew of the Obsidian. Outside the battlecruiser a transwarp conduit opened up and the Kelvan forces entered the otherworldly passageway that lay revealed before them. The transit took a mere twenty-five minutes to cross the Alpha Quadrant. When the ships emerged, they appeared at the periphery of the debris field filling the system.

"Prepare to disembark." the same officer commanded.

Grace took over the conversation. By the time she finished her discussion the officer was far more polite. The bay doors opened up and the Obsidian's manoeuvring thrusters came to life. When the Federation ship emerged from the bowels of the battlecruiser her impulse engines flared to life and she pushed ahead of the Kelvan squadron.

Macen signalled Parvac, "Give us a five minute lead then follow us in."

Parvac smiled, "You have a canny mind, Captain. I look forward to meeting our enemy beside you."

"So do I." Macen said and cut the transmission, "Take us in Hannah."

---

Chapter 15: Chapter 15

"Master," one of the multifaceted eyes of the bioship's scan tech came to rest on the High Ship Lord as he turned his head, "long range sensors are detecting movement within the debris field."

"Their course?" the Ship Lord asked.

"Directly for us." the scan tech answered, "They altered course in the debris field to accommodate an intercept with the planet and our forces."

"Ah, the Federation fleet has arrived." the fleet commander mused, "Alert the fleet. Scan, relay the visual imagery to my tank. Communicator, put me on a live feed with the fleet's Ship Lieges."

The Ship Lord sat down before a tank filled with a school of shrimp-like creatures. They originally appeared to be transparent. Upon neurochemical stimulation, they interconnected like a chain link fence. Their bodies began to assume colours and formed an image based upon the bioship's visual feed.

"You're live, Master." the Communicator reported. The Communicator sported bat-like ears for picking up the slightest feed from the bioship's comm array.

"All units begin charging your weapons systems and stand by." The Ship Lord ordered. He studied his plot. All that could be seen was the floating pieces of the carnage that had shattered Omicron's destined role as sovereign of the stars. The next few moments would re-establish this fact to the galaxy at large.

An object appeared out of the debris field and the Ship Lord leaned forward in his chair, "All units, target that ship and prepare to fire on any vessel that emerges from the field."

---

The Obsidian bore down on the Omicron fleet without wavering or manoeuvring.

The Ship Lord was impressed, "He is not waving off but is coming straight at us. This must be the infamous Captain Macen we've been warned about. Make his death a dramatic one."

"The front rank requests permission to fire." the Communicator reported.

"On my signal." the fleet commander replied, "We must acknowledge his courage first." At that moment, the seven Kelvan ships emerged from the debris field as one.

The Ship Lord recognised the Kelvan battlecruiser from the Predator's last reports.

Ship Liege's after action report, "All units, target the new arrivals! Fire at will!"

The Kelvans had burst through the debris fielding a circular pattern centred on the battlecruiser. One hundred Omicron bioships vented their fury, spewing ion blast after ion blast at the invading extragalactic aliens. As had been demonstrated before, the Kelvans' shields were up to the challenge of repelling ion blasts. They advanced unimpeded.

"Forget the ion waves." The Ship Lord shouted, "Engage them with your particle beams."

The bioships broke formation and advanced on the Kelvan cruisers. They dove and rolled around the Kelvan formation spitting particle beams at the cruisers. The Kelvans responded by firing their primary weapons. Green bolts of an unknown energy type spewed from cannons located across the length and breadth of the cruisers. They began gouging impossibly huge chunks of flesh of the bioships. Caught in the crossfire of the battlecruiser and its escorts, dozens of bioships died.

Stunned, the Ship Lord summoned his remaining forces in an effort to overwhelm the seemingly unstoppable Kelvans. In the midst of this activity, the Obsidian had driven straight on into the heart of the Omicron forces. Grace ducked and wove the ship around, underneath and over the top of attacking bioships on their way to confront the Kelvan squadron.

Passing bioships lanced out with their ion blasts and particle weapons. Fortunately, all of the Obsidian's shields were holding up. Forger fired upon targets of opportunity as they raced by. It had little effect but it did divert the bioships' energies from weaponry to healing factors. They'd nearly made it through the Omicron swarm when a passing bioship turned and pursued them.

His Communicator interrupted the Ship Lord's ranting orders to his crews, "Master, the Predator has broken off and is in pursuit of the Federation craft. The Ship Liege requests permission to run their quarry to ground."

"Permission granted." The Ship Lord growled, "By the Dark Egg, someone will die this day!" Besides us. The Ship Lord thought grimly.

---

"Lees," Macen called out as he approached Danan's station, "where's that thing's brain?"

"I could guesstimate but I can't…"

"Stop hedging and give me your best guess." the deckplates shook as the shields withstood another particle beam's strike.

Danan pulled up a sensor image of the bioship. There was a heat bloom concentrated behind its "nose".

Danan pointed at that bloom, "That's my guess. It corresponds with the location of seagoing rays."

"Highlight that area and copy a file onto Shannon's board." Macen looked over his shoulder, "Tom!"

"Hannah, prepare for a 'Crazy Ivan'." Riker began spouting orders, "Shannon target the indicated area and pour it on. Ignore all other targets. Just concentrate all firepower on that spot."

"Yes, Mother." Forger replied.

Riker was about to retort when the Predator struck the ship another blow, "Hannah, are you set?"

"Ready to rock `n ruin!"

"Stop hanging out with T'Kir." Riker groaned, "That's an order."

"Woo hoo! You go girl!" T'Kir cheered.

Riker ignored T'Kir and detested the tacit support Macen offered her by smiling at her antics as he returned to the command chair. He'd grown to appreciate Macen's relaxed command structure but an utter lack of professionalism rankled him. Riker had enjoyed the brief resurgence of military protocol that had permeated the Obsidian's ranks. The current protocol was being made up as time passed.

Riker mentally shrugged, accepted that he'd just have to live with it as long as he was with this crew and refocused on the task at hand, "Hannah, initiate the 'Crazy Ivan'."

The impulse engines ceased propulsion. The manoeuvring thrusters fired in opposite directions on opposite sides of the ship. The Obsidian did a 180-degree turn and reactivated her impulse engines. She was now flying down the literal throat of the bioship.

"Shannon, fire all weapons at your discretion." Riker ordered.

Forger immediately opened fire. All four of the Obsidian's phaser strips unleashed a torrent of destructive energy upon the "skull" of the bioship. Photon torpedoes began sailing forth as the phasers inflicted their first wounds. Although the Obsidian's collected firepower was in no way as impressive as a Kelvan cruiser's, she still managed to peel away the outer "hull" as she passed.

Grace "flipped" the Obsidian over and then rolled her and pressed the attack. The deckplates shuddered as the bioship returned fire. Her firepower was diminished due to diverting most of its energies to healing its wounds. She now had the equivalent of a Sabre-class starship's offensive potential.

Forger poured it on and relentlessly hammered away at the bioship, "They're reeling, Captain, but our shields are down to 60%."

Macen commed Parva, "Parva, can you throw all auxiliary power to the shields?"

"What do you think I've been doing, catching up on my beauty sleep?" the engineer snapped, "And just to let you know, the ion shield's close to catastrophic failure."

"Why?" Macen wondered.

"How the hell should I know?" Parva demanded, "You told me to plug it in and I did. I haven't studied up on how the damned thing works or why."

"Good work." Macen said, trying to diffuse the situation, "I'll be in touch."

"Oh joy." Parva grumbled and severed the connection.

---

The two starships matched speeds and hammered away at each other with every erg of firepower they could muster. Soon, the particle blasts stemming from the bioship began to fade away. It couldn't have happened at a better time. The forward shields were close to failing.

Forger renewed her assault and was rewarded with a gush of freezing blood mixed with grey matter, "Bring me in Hannah. I want to concentrate the ventral phasers' output on that spot."

Grace edged the ship closer to the bioship, which granted Forger an unimpeded straight shot at the cranial cavity.

---

The bridge of the Predator of the Stars was a dead place. The brain stem made up the rear of the bridge and the cranial cavity was its "roof". The nutrient tank that encompassed the bioship's brain had shattered under the bombardment it had endured. This opened the Predator's bridge to the vacuum of space since the cranial cavity was now exposed to the void.

The bioship shuddered as it died. Now travelling on a ballistic course, the bioship was aimed directly at Omicron. The dead ship would burn up in the atmosphere, a testimony to the death and decay of the planet below.

---

The Obsidian altered course and prepared to assume a standard orbit over the planet. Macen and T'Kir excused themselves from the bridge as the surveyor settled into place. Fifteen minutes later, after a change of clothes and a stop at the armoury, the couple met another couple, Radil and Kort, in the transporter room. Telrik, the transporter chief, was standing by.

The quartet was dressed in the black and grey field duty uniforms again. Radil had forsaken her usual phaser cannon in lieu of a phaser rifle that offered more manoeuvrability and speed. She wore a double holster for her phaser pistols. Kort carried a rifle as well in addition to his medkit and a pistol. Macen and T'Kir also carried rifles and all wore black tactical vests over their uniforms. Each vest was a storehouse for powerpacks for their weapons.

"Same coordinates as last time, Chief." Macen instructed Telrik.

"Seem to recall you gettin' into some trouble last time, sir."

Macen grinned, "And we'll get into more today but at least they'll know we've been there."

Telrik chuckled, "Righty O, Captain. Ready when you are."

"Energise." Macen ordered and they were spirited away.

---

"We seem to be running out of targets." Kiln said, wearing a grim smile, "I doubt there's anyone in this galaxy that could stop us."

"Careful." Parvac warned, "That kind of thinking cost us our empire and our home galaxy. This galaxy has its share of powerful threats. From the descriptions Rojan's infiltrators brought back either the Dominion or the Federation could rise up against us. These Borg I've read up on may match us for technological superiority."

"Perhaps these Borg could match us but the Federation?" Kiln, "Their vessels are nothing compared to ours."

"The Federation has beaten back the Borg three times. A feat unrivalled across an entire quadrant. There are billions of Borg and their numbers grow by the billions every day."

"And the Federation has defeated them?" Kiln asked in disbelief.

"Through cunning and guile." Parvac nodded, "They are a wily collection of races, all banded together for common causes. They are a marvel that we cannot yet comprehend."

"You're thinking of joining with them." Kiln was aghast.

"An alliance only, not membership." Parvac stated, "We have much that we could teach one another."

"Such as?" Kiln scoffed.

"Such as the meaning of courage." Parvac revealed, "Take Captain Macen. His ship and crew are horribly outmatched yet they plunged into the fray anyway. Our long-range sensors have confirmed that they have even killed one of the enemy ships. Even now they prepare for a surface assault."

"How can you know this?" Kiln asked.

Parvac chuckled darkly, "All of Rojan's offspring and their offspring were implanted with cortical implants at birth. Those implants were replaced with larger and more advanced models as they grew."

"Without their knowledge?" Kiln was shocked.

"It was standard procedure for us in our original bodies so don't be squeamish now." Parvac scolded, "The implants were used to record the events around the infiltrators in order to insure the accuracy of their reports."

"Since when does a Kelvan mistrust a fellow Kelvan?"

"Since the day we received these accursed emotions and physical sensations. Who knows how our younglings will react to these newfound pressures? Or you and I? Steps had to be taken. Rojan displayed infinite wisdom in his actions."

"So you are monitoring Hannai?"

"Even as we speak."

"Won't the Federation forces find it?"

"It is biotechnology beyond their ken. It is subtle, not the overt creatures these Omicron breed." Parvac explained, "They will appear as microbes or as scar tissue. These Federation types will never suspect the truth."

"But if they do?"

"Only we can remove the implant. If they attempt to remove it, it will kill Hannai and our troubles will be solved." Parvac revealed with a shrug.

---

The Obsidian's insertion team entered the fissure leading to the land bridge. Macen took point. T'Kir had his back. Kort followed T'Kir with Radil taking rearguard.

Upon entering the great crack in the mountainside, all eyes ascended to the roof of the cavern, seeking the membrane that had previously cut them off from their comrade. All four team members activated the lights mounted on their rifles and began sweeping the stygian darkness covering the ceiling. Upon finding nothing but bare stone, Macen pulled his tricorder out from his belt.

"According to this, there's nothing there." Macen announced, "No organic tissues, no thermal readings…nothing."

"It has to be somewhere." Radil protested.

"T'Kir?" Macen prompted.

T'Kir's brow was already knitted as she telepathically sought answers, "All I sense is death. Death and a resounding joy surrounding the death."

T'Kir looked around at her comrades and saw the consternation on two of their faces. At least Brin's accepting my explanation without a qualm, T'Kir thought to herself.

"We just have to accept it." Macen said as he put the tricorder away, "The membrane is gone. We don't know how or why but that's the plain simple truth and we need to move on."

Everyone nodded or shrugged their agreement and the party moved out across the land bridge. Once they reached the landing on the other side, they proceeded through the opening into the tunnel on the other side. To retain some sense of familiarity, they turned right and proceeded down the corridor.

Unfortunately, what was also familiar was the stench of Omicron blood. Pools of it were gathered all across the floor. Blood painted the walls and even the ceiling at spots. Mixed with the blood were corpses. Some had been hit by weapons fire. Most were bludgeoned, sliced, or otherwise mangled.

Weapons fire and screams could be heard echoing down the tunnel. Macen proceeded cautiously, weapon poised and ready. The others followed suit. Soon they came across a pile of smashed Omicron bodies. Another body was laid out before them. This one was bisected. One half of the body was that of a typical Omicron. The other half was grotesquely malformed; a bulging twisted mass of muscle and bone.

"What the frinx is that?" T'Kir wondered.

Kort bent and pulled out his medical tricorder. He then scanned a dead Omicron. He shook his head at the results.

"This is an Omicron." Kort gestured towards the fallen oddity, "The DNA is a close enough match to establish common ancestry."

"Why common ancestry?" Macen enquired.

"There are variations in the genetic profile of the mutant that are missing in the normal Omicron." Kort replied, "I do not know if that stems from this being being a offshoot species or the result of artificial origination."

"That's it!" Macen grew excited, "The Omicrons haven't just experimented on other races, they've experimented on themselves. Think about it, not every experiment would be a success. You'd need a place to store the rejects. What if they escaped?"

"An uprising?" Radil asked.

"Exactly." Macen grew more fervent, "This answer 'feels' right. We need to contact these 'rejects' and enlist them into helping us secure the ultramatter."

"Why would they want to?" Radil asked.

"T'Kir?" Macen deferred the question.

"To prevent the Omicrons from making anymore freaks." T'Kir said with a steely tone to her voice.

Kort watched Radil bristle. Theoretically, these Omicron mutants represented an oppressed segment of their society. That was something that neither the ex-Maquis rebels nor the ex-Resistance guerrilla could tolerate. Oppression of any form was an anathema to them.

Subject races were nothing new for the Klingons. The Empire had been built on conquest. They'd curbed their conquering ways following the destruction of Praxis but that heritage coursed through the Klingon bloodstream. Now the Klingons acted much as the Iotians did, presenting themselves as defenders of protectorate systems. Occasionally a reluctant system found itself surrounded by Klingon influence and soon found itself economically forced to join the Empire.

Kort decided to join in with his comrade's determination, "Death to the enemy!"

"It may come to that in the end, Kort." Macen said with a touch of sadness. Macen had endured over twenty years of warfare. He knew the realities of war and accepted them. That didn't mean he had to warmly embrace them.

"All right." Macen broke the silent reverie that everyone had lapsed into, "It's time to move out."

The team resumed their exploration of the Omicron citadel. T'Kir initiated the next stop.

"This is the room with the computer." she said pointing at the door leading to the computer station they'd visited before.

"What's its status?" Macen asked.

"It's confused, almost panicky." T'Kir said with a slightly vacant look in her eyes, "It can't reach the supermind of the mainframe. It's never been alone before."

"Now isn't the time to sympathise with an enemy computer." Macen reminded her, "We're here to capture the ultramatter and retrieve Rab."

"But it's all alone." T'Kir said plaintively.

Macen shook his head. It figured that it would take a computer to bring out maternal feelings in T'Kir.

"We need to get moving." Macen coaxed her, "The computer's not going anywhere."

"Maybe we could rescue it and install it in the Obsidian."

Macen closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I really don't have time for this. If you want to take care of something, we'll get a cat."

"With the way we lose ships?" T'Kir protested, "We'd kill the poor thing."

"Same goes for your computing brain." Macen pointed out, "Not to mention the fact that it only speaks Omicron."

"All right!" T'Kir threw her right hand in the air, "I get it. No living computers for me."

"Sorry," Macen consoled her, "but that's how it needs to be."

---

Macen waved them forward with his left hand and proceeded further down. Dead Omicrons littered the corridor. Streaks of blood where fingers had scraped the floor as they'd been drug away began to appear. It was a disturbing image with even more disturbing implications.

The team moved on without a word being spoken. That changed when they reached a terrace that opened up to the central core of the citadel. Down below, the nutrient container housing the huge brain that made up the mainframe of the Omicron computer system was broken open and the brain collapsed in upon itself. T'Kir stiffened and then Tressib lowered himself on a strand of web.

Macen raised his rifle but T'Kir slapped it down, "Down boy. He's a friend."

Thank yew, miss. Tressib's me name. Who are you?

Name's T'Kir. T'Kir thoughtcast, through their telepathic rapport Macen listened in on the exchange, Can you explain what's happening `round here?

Us Lowlies are revoltin'. Bad day to be an Omicron. Tressib smiled, revealing needle sharp teeth and fangs.

Okay, T'Kir mentally sighed, two questions. First off, how many of you are there and how are you managing to attack an entire city?

"We started off with twelve hunnert. That's cus we left three hunnert behind as a whatchoo call it, a rearguard, yah. Also the Omicrons loaded up most of their forces on their ships in a move to invade somethin' called the Federation. We've been hittin' the leftovers and the civvies stupid enough to resist us. So far, we've hit a coupla dozen pocket's o' resistence.

Thanks. Second, have you encountered someone like us? His name's Rab Daggit.

Tressib chuckled, Course I know `im. He's bloody well leadin' this revolution.

Macen and T'Kir stared at Tressib before T'Kir shook off her disbelief, How can you project your thoughts? Are all Omicrons telepathic?

Nope. The caverns where we live grow a special mould that gets infested with a particular type o' microbe. This lil' critter lets us mind talk.

Could you lead us to Daggit?

Shore. Follow me. Tressib lowered himself to the terrace and began scuttling off down the corridor. Macen was visibly resisting the urge to shoot the Lowlie.

"Lead on." T'Kir said with a flourish and a bow.

Macen shot her a venomous look and then began to follow in Tressib's wake.

---

Chapter 16: Chapter 16

The High Ship Liege and his vessel, the Crown of Stars, were dead. Over three quarters of the Omicron fleet had been destroyed. Local space was filled with pieces of torn flesh and dead or dying carcasses. Mixed in with this carnage was the bodies of vacuum desiccated Omicrons. Although the Kelvan vessels were finally showing signs of damage, the survivors had lost heart.

---

"The enemy is routed, Commander." Gozer reported to Parvac, "The surviving units are beginning to break and flee."

"Disperse the squadron." Parvac ordered, "Have them hunt down and destroy the highest concentration of 'bioships'. Then, move the flagship into planetary orbit. We shall see if Captain Macen requires assistance."

"Your will be done." Gozer bowed his head.

"Of course." Parvac said softly to himself.

---

Tressib led the team through multiple corridors. When they took a lift, he crawled out of the nearby terrace and crawled down the wall. His crawl was almost as fast as the lift. T'Kir reported that the lift was far more organic than the one in the ziggurat on Harbinger. When Tressib appeared again, Macen still had to forcefully refrain from shooting him.

Steady, Lover. T'Kir exhorted, You're doing great.

He gets too close and I will blast him. Macen warned

I'll let him know. A moment passed then T'Kir thoughtcast, He thinks its funny and promises not to offend your sensibilities.

Thanks. I feel better already. Macen lied even though he knew T'Kir would see through his deception.

Don't you just? T'Kir teased.

Macen sighed and stopped the bantering. Tressib had led them to a vast underground hall. It was the size of a starship. It was open spaces interrupted by massive columns. At the end of the hall there was a door being protected by a contingent of Omicron soldiers.

Angry Lowlies of every shape and description surrounded the area. They all wielded captured weapons. In their midst stood Daggit, who was directing the Lowlies' movements like a general in the field.

"`Lo Rab, whassup?" T'Kir called out as the team approached. She waved her free hand to get his attention.

Daggit spun and then broke into a huge smile, "Hello all. Welcome to our party."

"You're smiling?" Macen was incredulous, "You're in the middle of a combat operation and you're smiling?"

"Strange isn't it?" Daggit laughed.

Macen and T'Kir exchanged worried glances.

"Kort, Radil, I could use you." Daggit beckoned and the other SID agents followed him back into the fray.

"What did you do to him?" Macen demanded of Tressib.

It wasn't intentional. Tressib's mental voice was anguished, We didn't even know `e was different until the fighting started.

That's fine and dandy, T'Kir replied sternly, what the hell did you do to him?

It's the spores is all I can figure. Our caverns are filled with algae, moulds, moss and lichens. Theys is filled with spores y'see. `E's not an Omicron. Who knows what they's doin' to him?

"Great." Macen growled.

"They didn't know it would affect him this way." T'Kir argued.

"I'm not blaming them." Macen said and Tressib sagged in relief, "I'm just wondering of the effects are permanent."

Theys is no way o' tellin'.

"You can understand what we say?" T'Kir asked.

The microbes make me like `oo. I can read strong thoughts, `specially when peoples is thinkin' o' sayin' somethin'.

"He's telling the truth." T'Kir confirmed.

Oi, you read me mind?

T'Kir snapped her fingers, "Like that!"

Bugger me.

"No offence, but no thanks." Macen said.

Tressib laughed and Macen and T'Kir witnessed the same mind altering sight that Daggit had witnessed in the gloom of the abyss.

You're all right, Mate.

"So are you." Macen admitted, "But I'll still shoot you if you get too close."

A look of consternation crossed Tressib's face but he shrugged and turned to join his fellow Lowlies.

"You've got t'get over this." T'Kir scolded.

"You can't." Macen protested, "That's why it's called a phobia."

"Whatever." T'Kir replied dismissively.

Macen rolled his eyes and moved forward to join Daggit. Daggit was in the middle of shooting grenades at the guards. Most of the Omicron defenders had died. The Lowlies surged forward and finished off the rest. With that accomplished, they broke down the doors leading to the adjoining chamber and surged in.

"What's in there?" Macen asked Daggit.

"The Omicron Overlord." Daggit explained, "Once we have him, this ends."

"What happens then?" Macen asked, already knowing the answer.

"A very brief trial by jury and then he meets the working end of an Omicron sceptre blaster."

"How terribly Cardassian of you to arrange the trial to justify the predetermined verdict and sentence." Macen remarked sardonically.

"Since when do you get overly concerned with the end outcome beyond what's on your agenda?" Daggit asked angrily.

Macen cold cocked him with the butt of his rifle. Daggit went down and was barely conscious.

"That's what this place has done to your brain." Macen said coldly, "I never should have been able to do that. Jenrya!"

Radil appeared," What's up?"

"Strip Rab of his weapons." We're taking him back as soon as we secure the ultramatter."

Would you be talkin' `bout the Great Egg?

"Yup." T'Kir confirmed as weapons fire could be heard echoing out of the Overlord's chamber.

Be right back. Tressib promised and climbed a column onto the "ceiling" He scuttled out of the great hall and up the outer wall. Several minutes passed and then he reappeared holding a bundle of webbing. He returned to T'Kir's position and cut the web off. An identical container to the one aboard the Obsidian stood revealed.

I'll even carry it for `oo.

"Why?" T'Kir asked.

There can never be another Lowlie or Overlord this way. Omicron deserves to be a backwater world. Let's rebuild our world naturally and see what `appens.

"Wise words. Will you be able to live up to them?" Macen said as he approached.

The Omicron are without leadership. They'll be easy t'persuade.

"In that case, can I ask you for one last favour?" Macen enquired.

Name it.

"Bind Rab's hands. I don't need him trying to kill us all when he comes to."

Tressib chuckled, Very smart, guvnor.

Tressib bound Daggit's hands with a web and then picked up the ultramatter storage container. Kort filled a hypo with a stimulant and injected Daggit with it. Daggit's eyes snapped open. He struggled against his bonds and then subsided.

"What do you plan on doing to me?" Daggit growled.

"Administering a full anti-toxicology protocol into you." Kort said and applied his other hypo to Daggit's neck and hit the 'Release' button. One hiss later, all eyes were on Daggit. It only took several seconds for Daggit to collapse to his knees, clutching his head.

"Damn you!" he shouted, "What've you done to me?"

Then he folded over and his breathing was laboured. Kort pulled his medical tricorder out and began an examination.

"The inflammation of the cranial tissue is subsiding." Kort announced, "I believe he'll be fully restored."

Daggit's eyes opened for the second time and he struggled to get to his feet, "Captain?"

"Welcome back." Macen said warmly.

"What happened to me?" Daggit said woozily, "The last thing I remember is meeting up with a giant arachnoid person whose thoughts I could read."

Howdy mate, feelin' better?

"That's the one." Daggit said more in keeping with his regular terse self, "Only now I can't read his thoughts."

Too bad, you were a swell chum.

"Can I get my hands free?" Daggit asked, holding up the webbing glob that contained his hands.

Macen paused, stretching out with his empathic senses. It seemed the old Daggit was back. His eyes shifted to Kort and Kort nodded. Macen beckoned for Radil.

"Jenrya?"

Radil pulled out Daggit's Angosian combat knife and sawed at the webbing. Soon, with some hard work and effort by both Radil and Daggit, he was freed from his confinement. Radil handed the knife back to Daggit. Daggit promptly sheathed it, conscious of Macen's rifle tracking his every move.

When he was done accepting and putting away his grenade launcher, Daggit moved closer to Macen, "Well done, sir. I taught you well."

Macen remained vigilant and Daggit gave him the barest of smiles, "I have taught you well."

"You'll take point, following Tressib." Macen ordered.

---

Tressib began walking out of the great hall. Daggit followed, calmly reloading his grenade launcher. The rest of the procession went as follows: Macen, T'Kir, Kort and then Radil. Tressib retraced his steps and led them back to the lift they'd arrived on.

Once again Tressib scaled the outer wall and the lift barely beat him to the desired level. Levels stretched forth above and below them. The Omicron complex was vast, unknowably vast. Macen wondered how the Lowlies intended to keep control. Perhaps they truly intended to launch a cooperative rebuilding effort.

Tressib calmly led them past the carnage of the tunnel the Outbound Ventures crew had entered in. He crossed the land bridge without a moment's hesitation. In fact he seemed eager. Once outside, Tressib stopped and stared at the stars.

Beeutifool! he thought in awe.

"You've never seen the stars before?" T'Kir asked, sensing Macen's sorrow for the arachnoid.

Never. I've never even seen the Omicron city before today.

"It seems today is full of firsts." Macen encouraged Tressib, "I'm hoping it won't be the last of them."

Nossir, it won't be. Tressib vowed.

"Glad to hear it." Macen reluctantly reached out and patted the man-spider on the shoulder.

Tressib beamed, Where d'you want this?

"Put it anywhere but then step back." Macen informed him.

Shore, shore. Tressib scuttled ahead and set the ultramatter container down. The arachnoid then sidled off to the side and waited for whatever came next.

"So long Tressib, good luck with the revolution." Macen said.

"Call us if you need anything!" T'Kir waved as she and the others gathered around the container.

"I wish I remembered our time together more clearly." Daggit called out while Macen commed Telrik and arranged for the beam out. The team disappeared in halos of light and Tressib watched, transfixed.

Cor blimey, they wuz star people.

---

"Commander," Kiln said, "one of the enemy ships is headed back to its homeworld. The Obsidian is in orbit around there. They're sure to be attacked."

"All ahead flank. I want this monster killed."

---

Aboard the Obsidian Radil and Daggit were taking the ultramatter to the science lab to rejoin its long lost twin. Macen and T'Kir were headed for the bridge while Kort returned to Sickbay after dropping his rifle off at the armoury. Telrik disposed of Macen and T'Kir's rifles. Red alert sirens began sounding and the couple ran to the turbolift.

The turbolift opened to the bridge and to Riker issuing orders, "Hannah, break orbit and go to full impulse. Shannon, raise shields and prepare the weapons array."

T'Kir manned her station and Macen moved down to the command area to confer with Riker, "What's going on, Tom?"

"We have an Omicron cruiser bearing down on us." Riker answered, "Time to intercept is…"

"Twenty-one seconds." Forger supplied.

"Carry on then." Macen said and then sat down.

Riker looked back at Macen in consternation but recomposed himself in time for Forger to report, "Entering Omicron weapons range in five…four…three…two…one…"

The ship rocked as the bioship's ion blast enveloped them. The ion shield held…barely. Various subsystems shorted out across the ship. Riker ordered Grace to cut the impulse engines and fire the retrothrusters in a braking manoeuvre for a moment while Macen called down to Engineering.

"Parva, what's the status on the ion shield?"

"The status is that the damned thing is going to explode, taking my engineering crew out with it." the Orion snapped back.

"Hang on. Put a forcefield up around it."

"What a brilliant idea." Parva groused, "Why didn't I think of that?"

Macen ignored her comments and cut the line. He refocused his energies and saw that Riker's gambit had worked. The Omicron ship had overshot them and was now being barraged by their weapons. Once again they were concentrating on the cranial cavity.

The Omicron bioship replied with an ion blast. This time, the shield failed. Over three quarters of the energy was deflected but the remaining quarter wreaked havoc with the Obsidian's systems. Sparks flew and screens went down across the length of the ship.

"Full stop!" Macen ordered as he leapt out of his seat, "Bring us about and make for the Kelvans' position."

"The Kelvans are on an intercept course for us." Forger announced.

"Hannah, close the distance. Full impulse if you please." Macen instructed.

Macen returned to his command chair and turned to Riker, "Fortunately, the Omicron's ion blast is short-ranged."

"There's still the ship's particle beam weapons to contend with." Riker pointed out.

Macen opened a channel with Engineering, "How bad are you hit?"

"The frinxing generator blew and shorted out the forcefield in the process." Parva coughed, "The whole fershluginer place is filled with smoke."

"What our status after the ion blast?" Macen asked through gritted teeth.

"A couple of dozen back-up systems engaged." Parva reported, "Nothing to get upset about."

"We're about to get attacked again." Macen replied with forced patience, "How are the repairs on the shields coming?"

"You should be back to eighty percent."

"No more?" Macen couldn't hide his disappointment.

"Sorry. We're working as fast as we can."

"I'm sure you are. Out." Macen refrained from sighing, "Well, it looks like we're in for a bumpy ride."

Riker grinned, "Aren't we always?"

---

The bioship had turned and was "swimming" its way towards the Obsidian. On the bridge of the Kelvan battlecruiser, Parvac leaned forward towards his holotank master plot.

"Will the Omicron enter weapons range before we do?" Parvac asked Kiln.

"Yes, Commander." Kiln answered, "The Omicron vessel will be able to fire upon the Obsidian for approximately two minutes before we can engage."

"I want more power!" Parvac demanded, "Close the distance and engage the thrice damned Omicron."

"What of our Attuners?" Kiln enquired.

"We know nothing of Omicron biology or that of their living ships." Parvac spat, "Our abilities are useless."

"But what of the Obsidian?" Kiln wondered.

Parvac's eyebrows rose.

---

""How soon until the Omicron vessel closes into weapons range?" Macen asked.

The ship shuddered and Forger rocked back into her seat, "Try now."

Chagrined by her dry tone, Macen ordered, "Return fire."

The two dorsal phasers began to fire at the bioship, searing the ship's flesh. The bioship responded with return fire, concentrating on the impulse engines. The shields strained under the barrage.

"Aft shields at thirty percent. They're nearing collapse." Forger reported.

"Evasive action." Riker ordered.

Grace began juking and jigging the starship but the Omicron cruiser stayed right with her. The ship shuddered suddenly between particle beam volleys and the viewscreen went white for a second.

"Did the shields collapse?" Macen wondered.

"Captain!" Grace cried out as the Obsidian sailed past the Kelvan battlecruiser.

"They must have used an Attuner to transport our ship away from the bioship." Macen mused, "Put the screen on its rear view."

The scene shifted to that of the looming battlecruiser and the turning bioship. The Omicron ship was curved with its "wings" rippling as though it were underwater. The Omicron vessel had turned around and was started the other way when the Kelvan ship opened fire. It unleashed a single lancing beam of green energy that sliced the bioship in half. Frozen blood filled the area as did Omicrons of all shapes and descriptions.

The Kelvan battlecruiser halted itself and began to retreat along its lane of approach. Soon it sidled up along side the Obsidian and halted. Next, the Federation surveyor received a hail from the Kelvan ship.

---

Parvac's white haired image filled the screen, "Greetings Captain, I see you're still alive."

"My thanks for insuring that I remained so." Macen said.

"May I join you on your vessel?" Parvac enquired, "I have matters to discuss with you."

"Supply us with the coordinates and you'll be brought aboard." Macen replied.

"Very well then. I shall be with you within ten minutes' time." Parvac announced and terminated the signal.

After the viewer reverted back to a starfield, with the Kelvan ship looming to the right of the screen, Daggit exited the turbolift, "What did I miss?"

"Shannon, you brief him." Macen instructed and rose from his seat and retired to his Ready Room.

---

The ship's yeoman brought Parvac to Macen's Ready Room. The Kelvan looked around the room appreciatively as he strode in. He looked at the pictures in the display case and the Starfleet uniforms hung on the wall.

"You seem to revel in nostalgia." Parvac said.

"Reminders of my past allow me to see the path that brought me to my present." Macen remarked, moving out from behind the desk. He motioned for Parvac to sit on the couch as he took the loose chair and swivelled it around to face him.

"So what's on your mind?" Macen cut to the chase.

"I wish to propose an alliance between the Kelvan Commune and the Federation." Parvac was equally blunt.

"I'm not authorised nor qualified to negotiate on behalf of the UFP. I can convey your intent to the proper authorities and they'll dispatch a diplomatic team." Macen promised.

"As long as they don't send the spineless curs that they did last time." Parvac growled.

Macen shrugged, "I can't guarantee anything."

There was a moment of silence before Parvac spoke again, "The Omicron forces were routed yet this lone cruiser faced certain death to attack you. Why is that?"

Macen debated before answering, "Probably because they'd received a signal indication that we'd captured their ultramatter fragment. The fragment is the basis for all of their technology."

"Ultramatter?" Parvac was puzzled.

"A piece of primordial matter predating the creation of the current universe." Macen explained, "The Omicrons used it to develop their biotech."

"You must surrender this substance at once!" a livid Parvac demanded.

"Why?" a bemused Macen enquired.

"This substance is too dangerous to be allowed to be exploited." Parvac seethed.

"I take it you've had personal experience with ultramatter." Macen observed.

"The damned Killowoq found a fragment and used it to develop a biogenic virus tailored made to kill Kelvans. Over four-fifths of our total population was terminated. I will not allow this fragment to escape our grasp."

"Actually there are two." Macen explained and Parvac's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"Captain, I cannot stress the lengths I will go to to obtain this material."

"I can imagine." Macen said, "Before I commit my crew toward a suicidal course, what will you do with the fragments once you have them?"

"Send them beyond the energy barrier that rings this galaxy. By the way, what is the source of that barrier?"

"Ask the Q." Macen replied.

"The who?" Parvac was confused.

"Forget I said it." Macen said dismissively, "I like your plan, Commander. I only have one caveat. I want to retain possession of the fragments until I can verify that you're truly sending them out into extragalactic space."

Parvac relaxed, "Easily done. As soon as my units cease combat operations, we'll be ready to return to galactic rim. Do you wish to relocate to our docking bay?"

Macen shrugged, "Let's wait until your ships return."

"As you wish." Parvac stood, "I'll return to my vessel now."

Macen felt dismissed even though the visitor was leaving, "I could escort you to the transporter room."

Parvac shook his head, "Your yeoman will suffice. I shall see you again when we reach the rim."

"Guaranteed." Macen nodded.

---

Chapter 17: Chapter 17

Macen remained in his Ready Room as "Yeoman" Gates escorted Parvac to the transporter room. The yeoman was really a Security officer. Macen suspected that Parvac knew this or at least suspected it. It felt like a move that Parvac himself would play. It was easy, judging by his emotional tint, to see that he fully expected the Obsidian crew to try and abscond with the ultramatter fragments.

Sorry to disappoint you. Macen thought with satisfaction and rose from the chair and exited the Ready Room. He was surprised to see Daggit still deep in conversation with Forger. Stranger yet was the fact she was manning Tactical.

"Something wrong, Rab?" Macen asked.

Daggit looked embarrassed, "I just saw Parva…and her greeting was enthusiastic to put it mildly." Daggit paused and came to the point, "She did complain about my odour. I request permission to shower, shave and change clothes so I can have a proper reunion with my girlfriend, sir."

Macen laughed, "Good idea. In fact I think the entire shift could benefit from a little down time. Call all reliefs to man the critical posts and alert the gamma shift that they're on call until their duty rotation starts."

Macen turned towards Riker and Forger, "Sorry you two. One of you has to stay until Chief Gilrooney relieves you."

"You go." the pair said in stereo.

"Shannon, you engaged multiple targets for an extended period of time. You're tired. Get some rest." Riker insisted.

"What about you?" Forger asked.

"I'll be fine. It's the price of command." Riker explained and sat down in the XO's chair, "Really."

"I'll keep him company." Danan volunteered, "It's not like I've had much to do besides worry."

"All right." Macen conceded, "You can stay. Keep him out of trouble will you?"

Danan grinned, "He's a hopeless case but I'll try."

Riker made a protesting noise but Danan silenced him with a beatific smile, "Surely you don't object to spending time with me?"

"No…of course not." Riker almost stammered.

"Good then its settled."

Macen refrained from laughing until the turbolift doors closed.

"What's so funny?" T'Kir demanded, "I didn't 'listen' in."

Quietly, Macen thoughtcast to her, I don't want this getting all over the ship.

I'm the soul of discretion. T'Kir vowed.

Hardly, Macen retorted, but you'll pry it out of me one way or anther anyway.

So what gives? T'Kir's eyes were gleaming excitedly.

Well, you know how Lees has been without a partner for a while? Macen asked.

Nooo! T'Kir's face gave her thoughts away, Tom Riker?

The very same. Macen revealed.

But he just lost Jamie. T'Kir protested, growing more agitated, This is almost as bad as when she chased you for the second time.

Lees is aware of that fact. Macen said, All I sensed from her were sympathy and attraction, not ambition or lust.

The turbolift had emptied but Macen and T'Kir lingered for a moment.

"There'd better not be."T'Kir growled, "I'll reduce her to a mental infant."

"Tom's a big boy." Macen assured her, "He can take care of himself."

"He'd better." T'Kir carried on, "Lees is aggressive, a sexual predator."

"Like you used to be?" a bemused Macen asked.

"Exactly!" T'Kir slammed a fist into her other hand, "I know what I'm talking about."

Macen opened up the lift door. A crewman waited on the other side.

"Whose been holding up the damned lift?" she demanded.

Macen and T'Kir exited the lift and started down the corridor towards their quarters, "Promise me you'll stay out of this."

"I promise." T'Kir said while wearing a cherubic expression.

"I mean it." Macen warned, "I expect a genuine promise."

"Oh, all right." T'Kir heaved a sigh, "I promise I won't interfere in Lees' plans for Tom."

"And you won't mention it to anybody." Macen added.

"Oh, c'mon!" T'Kir whined.

"T'Kir!"

"Okay, okay, I'll be good." T'Kir sulked.

"Glad to hear it," Macen replied, "only, don't be too good. I wouldn't know who I was married to."

T'Kir backhanded his arm and then laughed, "Ain't it the truth?"

---

On the bridge, Danan was engaging Tom in some light conversation. In reality she was gauging his moods and emotional well being. Riker had come further than she'd feared but not as far as she'd hoped. She had to settle for friends first and then see if anything else blossomed. It was a longshot but it was one she was willing to risk. Just being friends was fine with her.

Megan Gilrooney and the rest of the gamma shift arrived and wanted to know what to do when the Kelvan cruisers arrived.

Tom shrugged, "You fly under the battlecruiser then switch the impulse engines to stand-by. Deactivate all the manoeuvring thrusters and let the BC's tractors do the work. They'll bring us in. Then you sit back for a few hours and enjoy the ride you can't see. Finally, an obnoxious twerp of a Kelvan will order you to vacate the bay."

Riker grinned, "At that point you reactivate the manoeuvring thrusters and push us out of the docking bay. And then you assume standard orbit over the planet. When that's done, call the Captain."

"Yes sir." Gilrooney said with far more confidence then she felt.

"Join me for a cup of coffee?" Danan asked and Riker nodded his assent. After they entered the turbolift, Riker turned to face the door. He missed Danan's beaming smile.

---

The transit to New Kelva went without incident. The Kelvan cruisers basically returned unscathed. What damage that there was, the Kelvans were addressing with their Attuners. It was a technology that the Federation would dearly love to acquire. It was unknown of it was purely technological or if there was some form of psychokinesis involved.

Macen returned to the bridge freshly showered and with a change of attire. He wore his usual outfit with a light grey crew neck tee shirt. He glanced about the bridge as T'Kir followed him.

She wore her usual ensemble of leather pants and emerald green Henley. She frowned as she noted that they were still inside of the battlecruiser.

"Why the frinx are we being held here? Is this some kinda trap?"

Macen slapped the comm badge mounted on his belt, "Hannah, get up to the bridge now!"

Just then, the air charged and then there was a feeling of dislocation.

"We've entered a transwarp conduit." Macen observed.

"But to where?" T'Kir asked.

"My guess is to the edge of the galaxy." Macen replied.

"You think they'll really do it?" T'Kir asked, "Launch it out into the extragalactic void?"

"Parvac's fear was real enough." Macen replied, "If his story were true, then the Kelvans have good reason to fear ultramatter and its uses."

"I saw Parva as she was bounding off to meet Rab." T'Kir said, "She said we should implicitly trust anyone named 'Parva'."

"Or at least have it in their name, eh?" Macen mused, "I'll keep it in mind."

"Captain, they're hailing." the gamma shift tactical officer reported.

"Put it on screen." Macen ordered.

"Captain, we have a devised a docking collar to fit your craft's airlock door." Parvac smiled, "I invite you and the ultramatter aboard so that you can witness our final preparations."

"I'd be pleased." Macen replied, "I'll also be bringing along my cybernetics specialist so that she can overlook your work."

"Excellent!" Parvac beamed, "Bring her aboard then."

"And I want to bring aboard Hannah Grace, or Hannai if you will, as a translator."

Parvac chuckled, "We'll make it a party then. We'll see you in fifteen of your minutes."

Hannah entered the bridge, "What's going on?"

"We're going aboard a Kelvan battlecruiser. You're coming along as a lie detector." Macen explained.

"Why me?"

"You speak and read the language." Macen replied, "T'Kir's telepathy is spotty at best with these people, just like with you. My empathy is imprecise. I can only get a general feel of a person's emotions and the Kelvans are still adapting to their emotions. They're so flighty as to cause me physical pain."

"I had no idea." Grace replied softly.

"You weren't meant to, Hannah." Macen reassured her, "You're only being told now in order to help you get over your fear of being reunited with your people."

Grace took a deep breath, "I'll give it a shot."

"That's a girl!" Macen squeezed her arm and headed for the turbolift. T'Kir and Grace followed him into it.

---

Fifteen minutes later they'd crossed the docking umbilical and entered the docking bay's reception area. An entire party awaited them. A boson piped them in as they entered. Parvac noted the arrival of the people but seemed concerned.

"Where is the ultramatter?"

"Waiting on the other side." Macen allayed his fears, "The containers are being handled by two members of my crew. We hadn't discussed their coming aboard your ship so I left them behind."

"Very wise of you Captain. My people will retrieve the containers now."

"My people will stand by and observe the transaction." Macen informed him.

A fleeting glimpse of irritation passed over Parvac's features but he managed to smile and physically wave his concerns aside, "As you wish. If we are to build an alliance we must first establish trust through mutual cooperation."

"Well said, Commander." Macen allowed.

When two of Parvac's crewmen returned with the antigrav sleds carrying the ultramatter, Parvac ushered his guests into the ship.

"The name of my vessel is the Annihilator." Parvac announced proudly, "A fact I think we amply demonstrated against the Omicron."

"Yes, I noticed that you hadn't left many of them alive." Macen said softly.

"Why allow an enemy the chance to rebuild while you can prevent it from the outset?" Parvac wondered.

"The Federation has proven to be remarkably successful at turning former foes into allies. The Klingons and the Cardassians started out as enemies and now they're friends. Even the Romulans are making headway towards a peace treaty." Macen explained.

"That has not been our experience." Parvac brusquely replied.

"You've also always been conquerors and not peacemakers." Macen pointed out, "If your proposal for an alliance with the Federation does go through, you'll have the opportunity to see the other side of the equation."

"Yes," Parvac murmured, "I'm sure we will."

Macen found Parvac's mood to be unsettling. He suspected the Commander of holding some undefined motives for this treaty proposal. Instinctively, Macen mistrusted those motives. Despite the Kelvans professions of the best intentions too many of their former ways lingered with them. He would trust Grace's generation but not these recent arrivals.

Parvac was very cordial with Grace but he never spoke to her or addressed her. His subordinates followed suit. Rea stared at her like she was a bug while Gozer seemed ready to burst out of his own skin from curiosity. It added to Macen's sense of unease.

"This is the transport pod." Parvac announced as they entered another section of the docking area. The "pod" was the size of a runabout.

"This unmanned drone will fly through the galactic barrier and then engage its transwarp drive and take the ultramatter far into extragalactic space. One it arrives the pod will self-destruct. We've placed enough energy cells aboard to hopefully ignite an explosion within the ultramatter and allow it to finally become what it was destined to."

"If it doesn't, will anyone be able to find it?"

"Possibly, but the odds are remote. The explosion will hurl the matter in different direction towards parts unknown. We're sending it away from the Andromeda Galaxy so perhaps if someone does find it, they will have no knowledge of how to use it." Parvac explained.

"I suppose that's the best we can hope for." Macen conceded, "You mind if my people take a look at your drone's programming?"

"Be my guest."

"T'Kir, Hannah, you're up." Macen instructed and both entered the drone's cockpit. After several minutes, Macen poked his head into the area.

"What's up?"

"They seem to be on the level." Grace said, "The flight controls are set exactly as advertised."

"Could they use their Attuners to pull the ultramatter out of the ship?"

Grace shook her head, "They don't understand what composes ultramatter so they're powerless to affect it."

"T'Kir?"

"As best as I can figure, this things completely automated." T'Kir answered, "I need Hannah to translate a few screens but I suspect they're telling the truth."

"Captain, I can't stress to you how terrified these people are of the ultramatter. They're afraid of contamination from just having it aboard. They want to get rid of it as badly as you do." Grace stressed.

"Turning psychic are we?" Macen asked wryly.

"I just know my people." Grace replied, "We were told ghost stories of the killer virus engineered from a mysterious rock our entire lives. These people are terrified."

"Yeah." Macen concurred, "I'd noticed that. Parvac still being arrogant about it though."

"He's saving face. He can't look weak in front of his subordinates or they'll force him to resign." Grace explained.

"I thought it might be along those lines." Macen mused, "You two hurry up so we can launch this bad boy and go home."

"Hey!" T'Kir protested, "That's my line!"

"I know." Macen grinned, "If you're going to steal, steal from the best."

He leaned down and kissed her and then departed.

T'Kir sighed, "Is it any wonder I love him?"

Grace shook her head, "You two are so weird."

"But we're partners and we're in love." T'Kir replied brightly

"Okay, I'll give you that." Grace allowed.

---

In a few more minutes, Grace and T'Kir had finished their inspection and declared the craft ready to "fly". Parvac ordered the two ultramatter containers loaded aboard the pod. Then everyone vacated the area and moved to an observation deck with a clear view of the galactic barrier. Parvac gave launch authority and the drone flew out of the bay towards the barrier. It slammed into the barrier doing warp 9.

According to Parvac, the pod, like the rest of his fleet, was designed to penetrate the barrier. They received an automated hail signifying the drone had entered a transwarp conduit and went off to complete its mission. The pod would drop out of transwarp when its coils had failed and then it would self-destruct. The explosion would be visible to long-range telescopes.

Parvac took Macen over to a display and he watched the explosion. A dust cloud rapidly expanded from their explosions location. A miniature galaxy was being born as they watched.

"Impressive." Parvac commented.

"It's bloody fantastic. It'll give our scientists new insights into the birth of galaxies." Macen said elatedly.

"Yes, of course." Parvac said without enthusiasm, "I suppose you'd like to depart now."

Macen knew a dismissal when he heard one, "That would be excellent."

"I'll have my officers escort you back to your ship." Parvac announced.

"Very well." Macen agreed, "Hopefully this spirit of cooperation between our people will continue."

"Perhaps they shall." Parvac said and left the room.

Macen turned to Rea and Gozer, "Lead on."

---

The Obsidian departed the Annihilator's docking bay thirty-three minutes later and set out for Earth at warp 8. The journey took three days. Upon arrival, the Obsidian was granted priority clearance for an orbital slot. Macen was also summoned to an emergency conference with Drake and Nechayev.

It was winter in England so Macen wore his flight jacket in addition to his usual attire. T'Kir accompanied him. She wore her leather duster in addition to her usual Henley and leather pants. They were stopped at the door of the SID headquarters by Security because of their sidearms. Macen and T'Kir underwent an ID scan and it showed they had Class 9 clearance: authorisation to bear arms anywhere in the Federation.

Security allowed them into the building and proceeded straight to the turbolift. They requested the executive floor and emptied out into Drake's office area. Ambril Delori, the Admiral's aide invited them to sit and announced their presence to Drake. As always, Ambril nervously eyed the pistols that the couple wore.

Drake's office door slid open and Macen and T'Kir entered the threshold. Nechayev was sipping a glass of tea on the couch to the side of the space. Drake rose from behind the desk, "Dammit Brin, I said for you to come. Singular. No offence, T'Kir."

"None taken. Now I won't have to call you a stupid cow. Saves a lot of trouble this way." T'Kir smarted off.

Drake blinked and Nechayev nearly drowned from a drink of tea that went down the wrong pipe when she laughed but she managed to cough out, "She has you there, Amanda."

"Amanda, T'Kir is my wife and my partner in Outbound Ventures. Anything that affects Outbound affects her as well." Macen informed her, "Either she stays or I go."

"He's defending me again." T'Kir beamed to Nechayev.

Nechayev had almost recovered from her tea incident and spoke with a strained voice, "I can see that."

"He's my knight in shining leather."

"I knew it would happen eventually." Nechayev said with a beaming smile of her own, "Congratulations."

"Thanks." T'Kir said with a broad smile.

"Amanda, let her stay. She was part of the events, hip deep I'd imagine, and she's a member of the team."

Barely mollified, Drake moved to the replicator, "I hate to admit it but you're right. Its just…why can't you bring Riker some time? He is your XO."

"Didn't you hear the whole partner part of my speech?" Macen asked dubiously.

"Oh take a seat, for God's sake!" Drake ordered a cup of black coffee, "Do you two want anything?"

"A vanilla latte." came Macen's request.

"A white chocolate mocha." T'Kir asked.

Drake got each of their drinks in turn and sat down behind the desk, "I've read your reports. Your unilateral action against the Omicrons is receiving mixed reviews amongst the upper echelons of Starfleet Command."

"We prevented a major engagement that would have cost thousands, more likely millions, of lives." Macen defended his actions.

"That part isn't being debated, what is being debated is that you're a Starfleet reservist, not a serving officer. And then there's the matter of the Kelvans. At best, from your reports, they're bloodthirsty. And now they want a treaty with the Federation and from your reports it's for ulterior motives."

"That was my impression." Macen said, "As it was that Starfleet wanted the plausible denialibility inherent in my not being part of Starfleet's regular service."

"It was." Drake admitted, "But times of changed. You're no longer contract irregulars. You're now full agents of the SID. But you'll still be deep undercover with Outbound Ventures. As far as the galaxy will know, you're simply privateers. Starfleet officials will know your true ranks upon verification of your identities."

"So you're reactivating our commissions and brevet commissions?" Macen asked.

"Yes." Drake answered.

"We don't play well with others or within regulations." Macen warned.

"That's why you're agents and not serving officers. You have more latitude this way, a fact that you should be used to from your time with Starfleet Intelligence."

"Just clarifying." Macen replied then thought over the matter for a moment, "I still don't like it. I like the current arrangement."

"And you'll still essentially have that freedom." Drake insisted,

"Brin," Nechayev spoke up, "the Federation Council is considering pressing charges against you for engaging in a private war with the Omicrons. This plan will place you under Starfleet's protection. The Council of Five has already drafted a resolution stating that you acted on Starfleet's behalf and that you're a fully authorised agent of the SID."

"So it's this or the gallows?" Macen grimly asked.

"Most likely." Nechayev nodded.

"Who am I to ignore the advice of my employers…I mean my 'superiors'." Macen remarked, "So what happens to my crew?"

"They all get reactivated." Drake assured him.

"What happens to those members that refuse to reenlist?"

"Then they remain with Outbound Ventures and you can find them a slot within your organisation." Drake replied.

"I feel like we've come full circle." Macen grumped.

"If we could get the ruling of your courts-martial reversed, then we'd be full circle." Drake commented.

Macen finished his coffee, "Is there anything else? We have a week's worth of shore leave while the SPYards techs collect our ship and perform an overhaul."

"Have fun." Drake replied, "By the way, where's my sister?"

"At the San Francisco Hilton waiting for a dinner invitation." Macen replied.

"Thanks for bringing her back in one piece."

Macen grinned, "Always a pleasure."

T'Kir finished her drink and the pair rose and exited the office.

"Well, that went as well as could be expected." Drake remarked.

"For all of Brin's protestations, his heart lies with Starfleet." Nechayev observed, "We just left him in the field for too many decades. He's too used to operating on his own. The regular service doesn't allow for that."

"I still feel like this solution is an unholy compromise." Drake complained.

Nechayev laughed softly, "That's because it is. Trust me, he'll find the holes in the arrangement without any encouragement from us."

"Stop trying to cheer me up. I think I'll call my sister and invite her to London for dinner."

"Good idea."

---

From Ambril's desk, Macen contacted the investigative team and gave them the news. Most were receptive. Radil and Kort were indifferent. Riker stayed on the line when the others signed off.

"Tom?" Macen enquired, "Something on your mind?"

"You don't need to look for a new XO." Riker informed him.

"You have someone in mind?"

"Me." Riker replied.

"Tom," Macen groaned, "we've been over this."

"Brin, I'm not ready. And if I don't believe I am it doesn't matter how many people believe I am, it won't work out. I'll always be unprepared. Jamie valued loyalty and honesty above all else. I honestly am not ready for an independent command. My brother spent fifteen years as the 1st Officer of the Enterprise. I can spare a few years to be your XO. You need help and my sense of loyalty demands that I help out." Riker paused, "Don't deny me this Brin, please."

"Okay." Macen conceded, "Welcome back aboard."

"Thank you." Riker said solemnly and signed off.

Macen sat back and then looked up at T'Kir, "Where's Lees staying?"

"With Tom."

Macen blew air out his mouth, "That's working fast."

"Hannah seemed put out about it." T'Kir mentioned.

"A triangle?" Macen asked and T'Kir nodded, "This could get disastrous."

Macen rose from behind Ambril's desk, "Thanks Ambril."

"Where can I tell the Admiral you'll be staying?"

"You can't." and with that Macen and T'Kir vacated the building, hand in hand.