Chapter 2:

Uncertain Origins

He floated freely through the stars and the void, unaware of who he was, or what he was doing here. Was this a dream, an illusion of reality? Or was it something else altogether? He did not remember who he was, or he had been…had he existed? Was there existence past the dark void that trapped him here? Was there freedom from the great solar winds that drove him from planet to planet, system to system? Or was he trapped here…forever free…and yet, at the same time, forever alone; his only companion the heartbeats of stars as they moved and played into the many varied rhythms of life and the universe.

Was this the real world…and the other a dream? Or was it the other way around?

The question begged at him again as he realized that there had been a time before this, a time where he was neither as free, nor as lonely…but he did not know what went on in the time before now…hew just knew it had existed once. But there was knowledge…there were memories of them. He could feel them as they floated at the edges of his consciousness, at the borders of this realm. They were close by…almost in reach…yet as he did so, his fingers could only brush past them, never being able to take hold, never being able to bring them back.

And then they began to float away from him…beyond the boundaries and edges…as if they were being taken away. It was then that he felt the other presence that had pulled it away. He recognized the other, who was a being just like him. But how or why he recognized it, he didn't know. He reached out the other, in an attempt to communicate, to ask why it was here…but mostly, he reached out of despair and loneliness, desperate to finally meet someone else other than him.

But the other moved away even as he reached out. He chased after it, desperate to find out what had happened. Something drove him onwards as he did so, pulling him forwards behind the other as it kept pace with him. It always remained just out of reach, but never so far that he would try to stop chasing it. It tantalized him with memories…knowledge of its past, of what had happened to it, and ultimately, what it was. The allure was too strong for him to resist, causing him to feel something new, something he hadn't felt before: grim determination.

Fueled by this strange new feeling, he moved with a surge of speed and caught up. The other was prepared, however, and reacted faster than he could. It braked, coming to a complete halt, turning around and then suddenly consuming him with a speed that did not allow him to move out of the way, or even give a proper reaction. His world disappeared, the freedom gone and the innocence lost. The determination gave way to a new feeling: fear. The primordial instinct took over him, consuming him in it's entirety as he tried to move, tried to escape from the prison that the other had placed him in.

It was then that he felt something different…something that once more tickled his sense of curiosity. It was then that he felt the other, once more hovering over the edges…he did not feel any malice from it…just a cold, hard stare as it watched him fight, struggle against the walls of his confinement. He reached back, and looked at the other…and then noticed what was around it. Focusing on it, he saw behind it the stars, nebulae and planets that he had been wandering through just moments before. He tried to reach for them, but was stopped by some strange barrier. It was then that he looked at what he tried to reach out with. He recognized it as a hand…yet, at the same time, he did not know how he recognized it. Looking at the other in confusion, he only got the same blank stare in reply.

And then he remembered.

Almost as if a tap had been turned on full blast, the memories came to him. A child playing under the sun of an alien world; the cold, dark corridors of a space station; sneaking into a room to read a sibling's diary; myriads of faces that filled the schools and colleges, and then the military academy…and then the recordings, the videos of the death, the pain…the suffering of the ones at the hands of first the great destroyers…and then at the hands a butcher of innocents. Then came the training, the constant amount of flying…and then the first few missions. The memories came uncontrolled and all at once, nearly overwhelming his mind and sanity as they rushed to bring him knowledge. Joy, suffering, pain, pleasure, lust, loathing, love, hate…all concepts completely alien and unheard of to him suddenly became normal within the blink of an eye.

He remembered, but at the same time he didn't. These weren't his memories. They had no familiarity, no trace. He looked once more at the other, unsure if these were it's memories that were being played out. The other's blank stare continued again…and then suddenly, it disappeared.

His surroundings changed, as did his form. He was no longer the floating entity that had once been, wild and free to roam anywhere he wanted. He recognized that he was now human…and in some kind of strange craft. Memories flooded his mind and he knew the craft. It was called a Myrmidon Space Superiority Fighter. It had a load-out of three secondary banks and two primary banks (2 and 4 guns each). He remembered his mission and his purpose here as he looked at the stars outside the cockpit, his heart aching to once more be free and floating amongst them.

He was here to chase the odd-looking ship in front of them. He was here to stop it, and capture the person on board. The person was the butcher. The butcher was the one that had killed so many of the innocents…denied freedom to many, many others. His mission was to stop the butcher.

There were panels around him; displays filled with information that was vital to what he was supposed to do. He continued to watch as his – what were they called? Fingers – yes, his fingers moved of their own accord. His body was moved backwards into the cockpit as the fighter surged forward in response. It was then that he realized he was not in control here, forced to watch as this memory…this legacy, played out in front of him.

A light came on one on of the displays, and then a voice spoke forth from the speakers. The memories told him that this was the one they called 'command', the one whose actions had probably caused as much deaths…but more due to incompetence, as opposed to deliberation. Yet, the other one knew that commands' actions were driven on by an ulterior motive…one that that the other did not know. This butcher had allied with the Great Destroyers…but for what?

"Engage full burners and intercept the Iceni. They are two kilometers from the Sirius jump node."

Command spoke. He recognized the name that command had mentioned. It was the name of the Butcher's chariot, the ship that had escaped so many times from Command, and from every attempt at capture till its eventual death. Curiosity struck him once more, as that particular memory was cut off, not elaborating how, or what happened to it. Was the other holding it back on him? What secrets lay below the surface…lay hidden behind the iron curtain?

He was distracted as another voice came over the radio…this time of one of the others remembered; a wingman in particular. The voice was angered, on the verge of hysteria almost, as it shouted over the general broadcast channel. A face appeared on the display, showing a man with a helmet over his mouth and face, but his eyes exposed. The words 'Alpha 2' were overlaid on the top-left corner.

"Command, we're five clicks from that corvette! Those coordinates you gave us were bogus! We don't stand a chance of catching that ship!

Another mystery revealed…another set of possibilities opened to his hungry mind as he tried to contemplate what exactly was going on here. Had command deliberately given the wrong co-ordinates? Had they been deliberately delayed here…to let the butcher escape? There was no way for him to know… the other might, but it chose not to disclose it to him at this instant.

"You have your orders, pilot."

Command replied, his voice betraying no emotion, no secrets or clue as to what was happening. Command's tone was cold and uncaring – a sharp contrast to the wingman's tone as he replied again.

"Command, Where's the blockade? Why isn't the alliance guarding this node?"

Was there supposed to be a blockade? It would explain the confusion in the matter…and it seemed to fit in with Command's actions. Again, the cold reply came, like before betraying absolutely nothing.

"Our line of defense has been reprioritized for engagements elsewhere in the system."

Elsewhere in the system? What was happening here? Was their betrayal amidst the ranks, or higher up at command? He was confused, incredibly so. What was the other trying to tell him? Did the other know the truth…if the other did, why did it refuse to divulge said truth?

And then another voice came over comm. system, along with a face. This was a different face…one that sent shivers down his spine. Suddenly, the other was there, standing right next to him and looking at the display as well. It studied the face as much as he did, remembering it. And then, as the face spoke, it mouthed the same words the butcher did. The tone was low, almost amused…and although nobody else felt it, there was something…an uncanny intelligence behind that voice, and behind the butcher's eyes. His posture was not of someone that was fearful or even oppressive. Had it been any other place, any other time or indeed – any other memory that did not know this person before, he would have said that this man was a great leader, someone that would bring about equally great change. Some might go as far as saying that he had the makings of even a hero of sorts.

"I regret your efforts to intercept us has failed pilots. You would be well advised to question the wisdom of your leaders. Helm, engage subspace drive."

Those last few words simply re-enforced his thoughts about this person. He watched as the Iceni jumped into subspace, vanishing into the blue and white vortex that opened up to first receive, then consume the ship completely. He turned around to see the other…only to find it suddenly gone. Its presence suddenly started retreating from his mind…as if fleeing an approaching enemy. The surroundings faded away as well, leaving him floating free once more. With it went the memories he had just learned, slowly fading away into the nothingness from which he had been so rudely taken. Fleeting concepts that he had just learned began to slowly dissipate as he returned back to the freedom's comforting embrace.

But his peace did not last long.

It was then another presence invaded his mind. This one simply did not sit and wait at the borders of his mind, however, and simply charged right in. Like the other, this one too toyed with his mind, taunting it…but it did it far, far more brutally. Memories seeped into his mind, agonizing memories of darkness, death and despair that poisoned his thoughts, twisting them into the images of madness and tragedy that combined together, driving his mind into the point of insanity.

His surroundings changed, like before. But now he was somewhere else entirely. There was no consoles here, no displays…only a dark, hexagonal corridor in front of him. The corridor was lined with conduits that were glowed a bright blood-red color. He was floating here however, there being no gravity, as it were.

However, a creature stood forth before him…one with five limbs, and a fearsome set of eyes. It was larger than him, looking down at his comparatively weak form…and then, as suddenly as it appeared, it vanished. It crumbled into the ground, turning into a pile of sand and ashes that quickly blew all around him, circling him as if he were suddenly in the eye of a very angry tornado. It blew into his face and stung his eyes, choking his breath, and seemingly stealing the very sanity from his soul.


And then, just as quickly as it began, the sand and dust stopped, falling to the ground and then disappearing through the grates. He looked down; blinking to clear whatever was left. He could feel the tears flow down his eyes and cheek…and then falling to the ground as he struggled to clear the sand out.

In-between his blinks however, he noticed that a new form was now standing him. His vision was too blurred to make out who it was, however. He blinked some more times and rubbed his eyes, trying in vain to identify the person.

It was then that the person laughed. It was short and barely audible…starting with just one, then two. And then it increased in intensity and savagery as it echoed itself around the corridor. The voice was so familiar…so eerily familiar that he did not want to look up out of fear of knowing who it was. But he did so anyway…almost as if he was no longer in control. A feeling of helplessness filled his mind as his face rose up, watching the boots, the neat uniform…and then right into the face of the butcher that the other had shown him not moments before.

Admiral Aken Bosch smiled as he stopped laughing and looked at him right in the eye. He spoke, softly, but his voice echoed around the chamber, making it sound partially metallic in origin. The voice reverberated not just through the chamber, but through his mind, and in the very essence of his being as well as Bosch spoke.

Your feeling of helplessness is your best friend, Savage.

It was then that he let out an ear-shattering scream into the long night – however, it was then immediately drowned out by Bosch's metallic laughter.

And then he screamed again as he shot out upright from the bed. He sat there for a moment, panting and breathing heavily as he considered his position and where exactly he was. The remnants of the dream then released him as his memory returned back to him.

Oh god…that darkness…that ship…that person – what the hell is happening to me?

Lt. Junior Grade Daniel 'deadshot' Mobius thought to himself as he looked around his quarters, breathing and sweating heavily. That dream…that nightmare. It had been nothing like he had ever had before. Even as its last remnants disappeared from his immediate memory, Daniel tried his best to remove them and forget. Some nightmares were better left forgotten…and this was certainly one of them. Sighing, he swung his legs off the bed and sat for a moment, rubbing his eyes. Looking around the sparse quarters, Daniel realized he was somewhat lucky he was alone in here…had their been someone else, he'd probably have to explain it to them.

Shit that was a bad dream.

He thought to himself. Not one of his nightmares to date had been so bad…most of them had either been about Sophie or Christina, and about what he had gone through during the Dominion war…but none of those even came close to this. No…it was too real…just too real to have been related to that.

Who is that person…and what does he want? Who was the other? the questions racked his brain as he got up and headed to the small bathroom to take a sonic shower and wash his face. He was going to have tell the counselor about this…perhaps she would have something to say or suggest to him…or at least increase his dosage up a bit.

Stopping near the sink, he switched on the water flow and sighed. Using both hands, he collected some in his palms and then washed his face and eyes. It was almost as if he could still feel the sand in his eyes from the dream. It was impossible, though…he was awake now. The dream was over…and so was the nightmare. He closed his eyes and splashed his face with water again. However, when he brought his hands up, there was no water in them. Opening his eyes, Daniel realized his surroundings had changed. He was no longer on the Persistance anymore…he was back in the corridor and junction, just like in his dream. Looking around, he took a glance in the mirror, and saw a face in it. He instantly recognized it and whirled around in fear…only to see the face of Admiral Aken Bosch staring right back at him. The admiral smiled as he spoke, slowly.

"This has just begun."

Daniel just screamed at the top of his lungs…and then awoke once more on his bed. He sat upright, his hands to his face, and almost completely covered in sweat – as was the rest of his body. Panting heavily, he looked around and tried to get a bearing on where he was. Bringing up both hands to his head, Daniel just buried his face in them.

These nightmares are just becoming too much. The truth was, even though he knew he was probably awake this time…Daniel couldn't help but just be a little suspicious.

What if I'm still dreaming? What if I cant wake up…ever? He quietly pinched himself, to make sure, but still wasn't satisfied by the response. Daniel sighed…he could only hope that he was awake now. He had never had a dream so vivid…so unimaginably real before. Sure, he had nightmares before – everyone did (except perhaps Tryx) – but not one of them had been like what he had gone through…not one of them remained in such vivid detail so long after he had woken up.

Sighing, he swung his legs out from under the blanket and off the bed. Rubbing his eyes, he got up, taking a wary look around the sparse quarters. That was when the intercom went off. Daniel's head shot up towards the ceiling as the familiar voice of his squadron leader, Lt. Commander Bishota rang out.

"All Silver Scythes pilots, listen up. We've got a mission deployment coming up in around thirteen hours and a briefing from the captain in exactly forty-four minutes. Drop whatever you're doing now. I want to see you all assembled there in thirty minutes, no later. Bishota out."

With that, the line cut and Daniel cursed. A mission deployment? Now this was certainly interesting. Wonder what kind of mission we're getting in Xevenya… Daniel thought, his mind suddenly drifting off the nightmare, and more onto the current situation at hand. Still, he made a mental note to go and see the ship's counselor a bit later. This sort of a nightmare had to mean something…Daniel was pretty damn sure of that.

With a sigh, Daniel nodded to himself and rushed to get ready.

Briefing Pit,

30 minutes later.

The briefing pit was large and very spacious. About the size of a large holodeck, this room alone consumed a significant area of Deck 3. It was called a pit because in a sense it was exactly that. There were six rows of seats, arranged similar to a stadium format and at different heights. Small lanes filtered in between the rows, dividing it into several distinct columns. A total of twelve separate columns were present, one for each of the ten squadrons stationed aboard and one for the bridge and flight crew, and one extra in case it was needed. Each one was color coded for the specific squadrons. Bright red for the Suicide kings, Bright Yellow for the Mad Bombers, silver for the Silver Scythes, black for the Star Childs, dark blue for the Deadly Reapers and finally a deep shade of purple for the Workmen. The remaining columns were all empty, and were a dark grey color. The total capacity of the pit was large enough to take on more than the one hundred fifty pilots the Persistance was slated to have at maximum deployment strength. However, today it was occupied by less than half that number.

The lanes started from each corner of the room, and ended at center – which also happened to be the lowest point in the room, the bottom of the pit as it were. Here, inside a large ring that separated the seats from the central area, a large 6 foot x 6 foot stable stood, at around waist-height, with a display console available to each of it's four sides. There was enough space between the ring and the table to allow for a few chairs, as well as enough room to walk around comfortably.

Overall, it was impressively made and well-suited to its task. There was another briefing pit like this one, but on deck 32 in the star drive section, and was more of the emergency backup in case this one was taken out. Two kinds of briefings took place here: the first was the command brief, where the Captain briefed only the squadron leaders and the rest of the bridge crew on the situation, and then the pilot brief. The pilot brief usually either took place with the specific squadron in question, with the squadron leader doing the briefing, or all the squadrons together, with Commander McCumbry taking the lead.

At least…usually. Daniel thought to himself. The room was mostly silent as the Silver Scythes sat in the room, alone for the moment. There were just around 12 of them – three wings of four each. Daniel was seated third row up from the bottom of the pit, dressed up in the blue and black pilot's jumpsuit that was the standard uniform for them. The jumpsuit was only temporary, though, and for when he was out of the plane. All the pilots had to change to the standard Life-support protective vests and suits when they boarded their fighters. He was seated at the edge of the row, right next to the lane, and glanced left at the others. The rest of his wing mates were sitting in the row next to him. They were three of them total. The first was Lt. Junior Grade Ashter 'Glare' Minven, a Bajoran pilot that had been fighting and piloting small craft for nearly four years now.

A young woman at the age of 25, she was just a year younger to Daniel, but had seen far, far harsher times. She flew Alpha 2, and was probably the stealthiest member of the team, overall. She would have been given command of the wing, had it not been for her hot temper, however, as well as her origins. After finally having cut off ties from Bajor and her past almost a year ago, Ashter had changed her named and just about everything to get into Starfleet, and hence as far away from it as possible. She was a beautiful young woman, in almost every way, and attracted quite a few looks her way on more than one occasion. Her hair was cut short and gave her a tom boyish look, while piercing yellow eyes kept a nervous watch around the room, as if expecting an attack at any moment. She sat in the chair next to him, arms crossed across her chest. Ashter never spoke of her past, not saying one thing about Bajor to any of her comrades or wing mates. The only person she really spoke such things about were to the ship's counselor, and even then only because it was mandatory. Otherwise, she was usually the group's quietest member, preferring to remain in the shadows and speak only when necessary – a trait that had been perfect to land her into the Silver Scythes and his wing. Her tendency and capability to stare at an object, or send a glare that could figuratively kill (especially to those that looked at her wrong) had earned her the call sign of 'Glare' by the rest of his wing mates. There was a wisdom behind those eyes, one speaking of many atrocities and

Sitting next to her, and day-dreaming away into the cieling was Ensign First Class Mitchell 'dead man' Skier. Skier was a tiny man, almost a dwarf size, even. Having a fairly Asian complexion, the ensign was probably the youngest of the team, and probably the youngest pilot onboard the ship. His hair was usually a shriveled mess, that had earned him more than his fair share of flak, but he had managed to keep it thanks to the counselor's help. His eyes hid behind them a sharp intelligence that observed his surroundings, while his muscles and strength gave second thoughts to those who thought he was a weak target. However, his habit of occasionally 'phasing out' and falling asleep during the off-duty hours gave him the squadron nickname of 'dead man', especially since he felt very much that way when people tried to wake him up from said sleep. There were times when Daniel could've sworn Skier didn't have a pulse. Of course, when medically checked up (even during said periods), nothing turned up, and he had never once done anything similar during any of the flights so far. Still…Daniel and the others had made sure to secretly install a shock circuit into Skier's chair, to shock him awake in case it did happen.

At just 20 years old his grades and intelligence had speeded his advance through the academy, and like many of the other pilots here, he had an uncanny knack at piloting small vessels, earning him a place onboard the Persistance and its squadron several weeks ago when Daniel's previous wing mate, Darren Himler, had been shifted off to the Stormchaser. Skier didn't exactly have any specialty, and he had more of a preference to flying bombers as opposed to stealth and recon craft. Unlike Ashter, Skier lacked the patience to sit still for long. However, he was in his wing and squad primarily because of his flying skills, and to help them get out of tough situations that called for maneuverability and combat ability, as opposed to stealth. However, that didn't mean he wasn't stealthy when it was required – by default all the pilots in the Silver Scythes had to have some degree of it. Skier, however, just had a slightly less amount than the others. However, he helped to round off the team in the non-stealth missions, especially when it came to flying the Swift bombers. More often than not, in the simulations where the wing had to fly bombing missions, they would all take fighters and just let Skier take the bomber, escorting and protecting him as required. However, usually it wasn't necessary. His skill at piloting the Swift was almost as good as that of the Mad Bombers. However, as good as he was, he was nowhere near as good as they were.

Few people can match RT and her group when it comes to doing things with those fat, ugly boats. Daniel thought, as his gaze caught onto the last member of the group. The last member was…unusual, to say the least. The being was probably the most inhuman member of his squad…yet strangely suited and appropriate for fighting in space. At nearly eighteen feet long, the being had to coil up considerably so that it could fit on the chair, and was surrounded by a luminescent field that held a field of water within it. The being had absolutely no limbs anywhere on its yellow eel-like body, and reminded Daniel of the moray eels on Earth, except much larger, and a bit odder. The color scheme was differing, with yellow scales interrupted by patches of blue all along the body. Its eyes were large and had blue irises. They were fish-like, in the sense that they had no eyelids, and seemed to glow a blood red color whenever they were in shadow, probably allowing the Sandgrate to look in the dark just as easily as he was looking in the light. Long, sharp teeth protruded out from his upper and lower jaws slightly, curving inwards like fangs. They carried a sharp dose of poison that was enough to paralyze most creatures even larger than it. This was, in turn, supported by the massive electric shock that the blue scales were capable of producing. Daniel could see the water flow in and out of his gills, and the shiny silver anti-gravity plate that had been attached along the full length of its lower fin, allowing the eel to 'swim' in air, as it were. The Sandgrate had a particularly long name, one that was unpronounceable to the rest of his wing, so had instead taken on the call sign of 'Moray' to make things easier.

The Sandgrates were actually very, very old members of the federation, dating from all the way back to Captain Kirk's time. They had a history of support and solidarity, as well as generally helping the Federation and Starfleet with their meager space force when necessary. Like the Korak, the Sandgrates had specialized in small fighter and bomber combat, as opposed to capital-class vessels. This was partially because of a lack of metal and resources in their primarily ocean-filled planet. Having developed a significant amount of telekinesis in lieu of growing limbs, the Sandgrates had remained separate from Starfleet till recently – partially because of incompatibilities in ship's life support systems, and partially because of their isolationist nature. As such, when a Sandgrate citizen had applied for a position as a pilot in Starfleet just as they were starting the fighter program, the commanders had jumped on the opportunity to get experienced crew. However, what struck Daniel as odd, was the fact that from what he knew, Ensign Moray had asked specifically for a posting on the persistence, and specifically one in the Silver Scythes. He had turned down command of a wing and a jump in rank, insisting on just flying as a wing mate on any of the other wings. This was very odd considering the fact that of all the four in Alpha wing, Moray was probably the oldest at a hundred and six years, and probably the most experienced. It was an awkward situation, to say the least, but he had fit into the somewhat odd group rather well, as had been proven in the last few months. Unlike the others, Moray did not specialize in any given field, and was a true all-rounder. He (Daniel had found out the gender of the Sandgrate in a rather…uncomfortable way, sadly) was capable of flying anything with equal skill and handling, and capable of doing it very well indeed. Unlike the others, he did not have a concept of up and down; having lived the somewhat free water environment till recently. Like Trix, he controlled the fighter directly, the controls hooked in straight into his mind, making an excellent addition to the wing.

Moray noticed that Daniel was looking at him, and then turned to face the human. The eyes stared at him, the irises focusing on. The jaws opened, and said something in a language that he couldn't understand…which was promptly translated just a second later. The voice was deep and he could hear a slight echo of the rush of water around the Sandgrate's gills as it came through.

"Just staring at me isn't going to do anything you know, Sir."

Daniel just sighed and shook his head, nodding at Skier, who was still day-dreaming into the ceiling. Moray just nodded and a second later, Skier was somewhat startled as, suddenly, something brushed across his hair and forehead. The effect was Moray's telekinesis, of course. It was just a gentle touch and movement, of course, but Moray could have been a lot less gentle should he have desired it.

Ashter seemed to notice this as well, but said nothing, preferring instead to concentrate on the data pad in her hand. Daniel sighed again, and leaned forward, speaking across her.

"Psst…Dead man, you didn't catch any sleep yesterday?"

Skier looked at Daniel, somewhat embarrassed at being caught in such a blunder. He shook his head.

"Yes sir…err, I mean no sir. I'm fine."

Skier stuttered as he nodded and gave a slight smile. Daniel just gave a slight cough, taking a glance at the briefing pit before looking up again.

"Yah, right. Keep on your toes, dead man. Don't want the Squad-com to spot you dozing off."

Daniel said, giving him a slight smile before leaning back and sitting down. He took a quick nervous glance at Lt. Commander Bishota as she sat still down at the briefing area. Today the briefing was different than usual – far different. It seemed that the captain was going to brief all the squadrons and pilots directly. Apparently, this was a somewhat important mission they were going on. It was then that a commotion came from the door and a large; red bug with several spots on it skittered through, followed by an equally alien procession of various federation species. He recognized most of them; Andorians, Bolians, Klingons, Human, Vulcan and non-humanoid races alike. The squadrons fell into their various rows and columns, arranging the wings as required. The largest squadron were the Star Childs, at nearly 6 wings (two of which had six fighters instead of the usual four), they filled up pretty much their entire column, with only two seats to spare. Unlike the others, theirs was the only one currently running at full operating strength. Second in quantity was RT's squadron, which had four wings of five each. Then there were the two ships of the Workmen and their crews, along with the three ships of the Deadly Reapers and their crews, filling up less than a quarter and half of their columns respectively. Overall, Daniel was somewhat glad he was where he was. The Silver Scythes had just the right amount of personnel to him; not too large so that he didn't know anyone in the other wings, yet not too small that they were the only ones there.

Soon, the clock ticked over, and forty five minutes had passed since the initial call of assembly had come out. Murmurs filled the briefing hall, being a sharp contrast to before. However, none of the squadron commanders reprimanded it as they gathered in the pit and began to discuss. They were apparently as much in the dark as the rest of the pilots were. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the doors at the top opened again and the bridge crew began to file it. Several ensigns followed suit, holding stacks of data pads in their arms. A few of the pilots got up and helped them carry it down to the pits, where they were divided amongst the commanders. The ensigns then left; leaving the stacks on the table.

Daniel watched as the squad commanders spoke amongst themselves for a minute, and then seemed to agree. He leaned a bit to his left and whispered to Ashter, who was also watching the commanders.

"You hear anything of what their saying, Ashter?"

She only shook her head. She wasn't hearing anything either – not that many people could over the din.

"All pilots, listen up!" Commander McCumbry's voice rung out suddenly, automatically amplified by the computer systems and his comm. Badge. The room quickly fell into silence as the commander looked around and then nodded.

"The Captain is current only his way here, and will start this briefing in around two minutes. We've divided the stacks of data pads according to each squadron's orders. The persons in front please take the stacks and distribute it to the ones behind and then maintain silence. Absolutely no discussions until the Captain arrives and begins the briefing, is that clear?"

Nobody responded, and instead the front most person on the right side of each occupied column got up and headed to the railing that divided the seats and the pit. The respective commander was there waiting for them, and handed out the data pads. The person – an Ensign Andy, he recognized - from the Star Childs had to make two trips though, due to the sheer number of data pads there.

The data pads were passed up the rows, and Daniel got his. He glanced at it briefly, and nearly gawked as he saw the security requirements. The first message on the pad was a simple text saying Security Level Epsilon. If he got this right, these materials were actually meant for those who were captain rank and above…and yet it had been distributed to them? Something was certainly up for a breach of protocol like this. He took a glance at Ashter and the others (and it was somewhat unnerving to watch as Moray's pad hovered on it's own in front of his face). Their faces and expressions pretty much reflected his feelings as well…something was up.

The doors then opened again, and everyone turned in unison as the captain came in, followed by the first officer and the ship's doctor.

Commander McCumbry immediately went to attention and shouted loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Captain on the deck!"

As one, all the squadrons arose and stood at attention.

"As you were." The captain said, nodding slowly. Everyone sat down again with precision.

With that, he walked down with the first officer and into the pit. He conferred with the squadron commanders for a few seconds before nodding at them and turning around. He had a separate data pad next to him, which he pressed a few keys on. The holographic panel in the center of the table suddenly lit up, going through its activation and safety subroutines before giving a small chime to confirm it was online.

The commanders quickly moved to their seats and waited for the Captain to begin. Daniel looked on as the captain sighed for a minute, consulted his pad and then nodded. He tapped his comm. Badge to activate the loudspeaker system. At the same time, Daniel noted that the warning sign on his pad had de-activated, and a picture of a nebula-class cruiser appeared. It was distinctively different, though. However, rather than read it.

"All right people, lets get this started. We've received our orders from Starfleet, as well as our first combat evaluation assignment. As such, I have decided to personally come down and give a command briefing to all of you, as this isn't a holodeck sim, nor is it just another military exercise. This is the real deal here, and we're now faced with an extremely dangerous foe."

A hologram flickered to life around two feet above the table. It was a 3d-representation of the Greek alphabet 'Epsilon'.

"First things first, though. The following material is classified level Epsilon. Unauthorized access if punishable under the Starfleet act, Earth convention, section 321-45. You are all authorized to view this information right now, however, so relax. You are, however, bonded by law not to display, reproduce or otherwise leak any of this information outside of this briefing room, is that understood?"

The Captain was satisfied as he received nods or other signs of affirmative from the pilots and crew.

"Very well then, let us proceed."

The holograph changed and the alphabet disappeared. It was then replaced by a nebula class starship, similar to the ones on their data pads. It appeared first as a wire-frame model, and then the color quickly began to fill. There was something…odd about the ship and the star drive section, which was visible almost immediately. Most nebula-class vessel had a 'v' shaped module pod on the top of the star drive section that could be attached and then switched out for differing types. But the one on this one seemed significantly different. It was not in a 'v' shape for one, and looked more like a cylinder with one side open, and the back closed. From what could be seen, the insides were similar to a deflector dish…except they glowed blood red color that just gave the upper rear part of the saucer section an eerie appearance. The pod also seemed permanently attached to the stardrive section, with struts and specialized external connections meandering their way down the entire engine assembly and to the warp nacelles on either side and underneath of the saucer section. The rest of the ship's colors were not the silver, whites and reds of a federation vessel. Instead, the colors were different…far, far different.

The main hull of the ship was a dark black color, with several odd white spots on the top. No windows shown or internal lights shone, giving it an overall dark appearance. However, in several places it had been replaced with red patches of externally attached equipment, but even on these, one could easily tell there were burn marks. The saucer section especially had some special modifications: from where the bridge should be was a long mast, around 10 meters in height. No…it wasn't a mast…it was a flag pole. From it hung a piece of cloth that seemed to drift in an invisible wind. It was obviously made from a special material to be capable of flapping in the solar wind like that, or at least computer-controlled. The ship rotated quickly, zooming in not just the flag, but the whole top of the saucer itself. Daniel and many others had noticed the odd patches of white across the top of the saucer, but at the angle he had been unable to make it out. Four copies the top section displayed itself in each direction, and several sharp intakes could be heard from many of the human members in the pit.

As if my day couldn't get any worse.

Daniel himself withheld a curse as he realized that the Captain was absolutely right. This was, by no means, a run in the park. He glanced over at Skier, who just stared at the image in shock. Daniel sighed, and looked back at the hologram.

The image of a human skull and two crossed bones stared back at him. It was painted not just on the saucer, but on the flag as well. Any human in the room would have recognized what it meant instantly. It was a thought that the Captain put into words as he then spoke.

"This, Ladies and Gentlemen, is the Jolly Roger, currentlythe most dangerous vessel to ever roam in the Alpha Quadrant. This ship, as it stands, could potentially take on a Borg Tactical Cube on its own and come out the victor, partially thanks to the weapons it wields onboard, and partially thanks to the intelligence of it's captain."

He paused, looking around the gathered group and some of the non-human pilots.

"For those of you that may not know about this ship, here's a brief run-down of its history."

The hologram disappeared, this time replaced by the picture of a 'normal' nebula class starship. The pod at the back was still the same as the one he had seen earlier, however. The name was changed this time, and anyone could clearly see the words "U.S.S. Redemption" on the hull.

"As you all know, around three years ago Starfleet and discovered the relative dangers and damage we were causing to subspace using the old warp drive. However, with the adaptation of the new warp drive, as well as travel regulations all over the federation, we have to a certain extent, negated causing any further damage to subspace with our warp engines. However, as you know, warp drive travel in the damage areas is relatively impossible with traditional warp. As such, around two months from the incident, the science vessel U.S.S. Sparta made a significant discovery while investigating the extent of the subspace damage."

This time the holograph changed to show the exterior of a different starship. Daniel leaned forwards, a bit interested in what exactly he was seeing here. The ship was a Nova class science vessel, much like the infamous and ill-fated U.S.S. Equinox.

It stood still in space for a second, before a tractor beam reached out from its deflector array, and then seemed to grab an unseen object in the middle of space. In the middle of the tractor beam, something began to form – Daniel tried to get a glimpse of it. It looked like a vortex…a blue and white one that seemed eerily familiar…but then the picture suddenly cut out into a burst of static and the captain spoke up.

"The picture you see was recorded by a drone that the Sparta had sent out before they tried their dangerous experiment." The captain paused for a minute, lowering his head and looking at the Hologram before continuing. His tone turned grave, and somewhat sad.

"The Sparta was lost with all hands as their deflector dish gave out. From what we can tell from scanning the area, it appears that they were attempting to access subspace and, in essence, open a tunnel through it. The damaged properties of subspace gave it a unique element that the Sparta attempted to exploit and use. They believed that they could open a route through subspace and enter it by manipulating the local gravity distortions into their favor. They succeeded in opening an entrance for all of five seconds. However, they did no have the energy required to sustain it as they attempted to cross the threshold, and the resulting closure cut the ship in half, leaving only half the stardrive section behind, of warp core of which promptly went through destabilization and then exploded, while the other half was forever trapped in subspace. Fortunately, their sacrifice was not in vain, and the probe we recovered managed to get all the data. However, Starfleet has classified the entire matter level Epsilon, as what they have discovered is very, very important."

The hologram changed again, this time to show a solar system. It was just like most other solar systems, with nothing really special to it.

"When studying the data, Federation scientists concluded that although the Sparta had the right idea, the implementation was significantly off. Although it did, in the end, manage to open up a rift and tunnel in subspace, to sustain the gravitational distortions and neutrality required to keep it open were far beyond her means. However, unlike in open space, most solar systems have these gravitational anomalies in the forms of the various Lagrange points between planets, stars and moons. Keeping this in mind, Starfleet began to conduct secret experiments in the Villaires system initially. The first experiments included drones and probes, primarily fitted to first open, and then hold open, and then enter these subspace rifts. The process was complicated, but after multiple trials and errors, the first successful subspace jump was successful.

The hologram didn't change, however something appeared on it. It was barely a pin-point at first…but it slowly grew and turned, twisting with blue and white energy that leaked out…and then get sucked right back into the swirling vortex. The patterns of white and blue played across the hologram, striking Daniel with familiarity…and fear. Buried memories of the nightmare he had earlier crawled their way back into his minds as he looked on as a probe emerged from the vortex.

"What you see here, is the signature first ever success in entering and then exiting of a subspace rift. This, my friends is the greatest invention to the federation since warp drive. This new form of travel would grant for near instantaneous travel to anywhere in a system – and safely, too. However, with impulse drive available, this was not too gigantic a step. With this initial success, the next logical step was attempting to jump from system to system. The limitations of this system was that the start and exit points need to be at a gravitational distortion. We soon discovered that occasionally, these distortions would form a 'natural' tunnel of 'weak' subspace between systems. These distortions – henceforth designated as Subspace Nodes – were concentrated enough to allow a ship to remain in subspace and traverse as much as hundreds of light years in the matter of a few minutes. As long as two systems were connected by a subspace corridor, you could traverse that corridor at sub-light speeds, skipping the distance in-between almost completely."

A loud murmur went up in the room, and a sick feeling began to form in Daniel's stomach. The Captain paused to take a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, before speaking up once again.

"The first starship ever to try this new system of travel was the U.S.S. Redemption. A nebula class cruiser, the ship was refitted with a special subspace drive pod that would allow it to open up a subspace hole large enough to accommodate the hull and drives. The downside was that while the pod was active, the ship's warp drive and coils had to be offline. The first test was to take place between Xevenya and Villaires, and was conducted under the utmost secrecy. The only ones to officially hear about this project in the brass were Admiral Nechayev and the Federation president. The ship itself was led by Commodore Markhaven Telos, an exploratory veteran at the time that had made contact with numerous new species. He and his crew were used to test the new drive. Before this, probes had already been deployed through the corridor to limited success, but to truly see if it was feasible, live subjects would have to be sent through, as well as a significantly sized vessel."

The hologram changed again, this time showing the Redemption as it approached the node. The node itself was a sphere constructed out of connecting lines and dots. Daniel recognized it as a HUD object to essentially identify and easily spot the node. On the screen, the vortex opened again just in front of the ship's bow, and the vessel entered it. Within seconds, it was consumed and disappeared as the Vortex closed behind it.

"At 0700 hours, on the 3rd of June, 2375, the Redemption entered subspace in the most historic voyage of our time."

The Captain paused before looking up…his eyes held a strange expression…a sadness of sorts.

"For three days, the research team at Xevenya waited for the Redemption to emerge from subspace. They ran scans, sent probes into the corridor – they pretty much did everything in their power, but were unable to find any remains or information on the Redemption. It was somewhat unsure where it had gone, but many believed it would show up. They waited there for another day before beginning to pack up and declaring the experiment a failure. However, in the last hours before they left, the science ship U.S.S. Traveler picked this up from the Xevenya node."

The hologram changed to static for a moment, and then the image changed to once again display a subspace node. Another vortex opened up here as well, but this time a vessel began to emerge from it. The crew gasped as they saw the condition of the vessel. It was nothing like what had gone into the node.

The ship that emerged from the node had gone through intense amounts of battle. There were massive holes all over the hull, where some sort of beam weaponry had cut through it cleanly. One nacelle had been sliced off completely, while burn marks littered the ship. A neat hole was present where the bridge used to be.

"As you can see…it appears that the vessel underwent serious combat. We believe that the node was unstable at the time, switching destinations rapidly and in a particular pattern. The Redemption seemed to have been deposited elsewhere in the galaxy, where it encountered a hostile race that was hell-bent on killing it, from the look of the ship's condition. However, when we tried to raise Markhavan, this was the only reply we got. Scans would later indicate that Markhavan was the only survivor from this incident. His entire crew was killed, essentially leaving him as the only survivor."

The hologram changed again, this time showing a two-dimensional view of a bridge. It was clearly the emergency one, however, as it was significantly smaller and tighter than any other. Strewn all around the bridge were dead bodies, however. Some of them had clear causes of death, from burns or such…others, on the other hand, seemed to have more…disturbing causes…as if their bodies had been ripped and torn apart by a giant energy sword, or something similar. The strangest sight, however, was of the figure seated in the center of the bridge. There was no light, save for what the screen cast – and even that was not enough to illuminate the figure, who remained largely in shadow.

"U.S.S. Redemption, this is the Traveler! Good god, we're finally glad to see you. We've been waiting here for three days – what happened? What is your status, where is your crew, Commodore?"

The reply from the commodore was slow, and his tone sent shivers up and down Daniel's spine. That voice…it was so eerily familiar…so identical to the one in his nightmares. Could he be the shadow, the mysterious figure that Daniel had seen?

"Dead…their all dead…"

"How, commodore? What happened? Where did you go."

The Commodore's voice became even lower…barely a whisper now. But Daniel – and everyone in the room – could feel the fear, the horror as he spoke.

"The node…it exited somewhere else…someplace far away…my god. We were chased by these beings…they wouldn't stop…wouldn't relent. They chased us through subspace, from system to system…"

The figure looked up, but his face was not exposed to the light here.

"They boarded us two days ago - we could barely repel them…everyone else was killed…all because of what we did…what I did."

"Commodore? What are you talking about? We are sending ships to assist, stand by."

"You don't understand…a plague is coming…and it's because of me…they will find us, eventually…and nobody will be able to stop them. Run…run while you still can!"

The commodore leaned forward, and Daniel physically shook as he saw that half of his face was burnt and covered in blood. There was no way this man should have survived…no way in hell he should even be talking at that moment. Then the channel cut, leaving behind only static.

The static remained on the hologram as the Captain turned around and looked at the men.

"As you can see, the commodore was significantly traumatized by his encounter. Before any of the ships were able to respond or stop him, he escaped, fleeing with subspace drives into Orion-controlled territory. He has since then evaded federation custody, and every attempt to catch him and the prototype. Starfleet has hence called the project a failure, as the subsequent destabilization of subspace has meant that most – if not all – corridors are significantly unstable and continue to oscillate randomly. However – "

The Captain began, before pausing to take a breath.

" – one important thing we do know is that somehow, Commodore Markhaven has figured out this secret, and knows how to stabilize the corridors. He has used it to his advantage, striking a deal with the Orions to repair the ship and rebuild it with illegal subspace-based weaponry, as well getting a few new crew members. He has since double-crossed the Orions, and managed to escape in the bargain. Commander Markhaven is now considered an international criminal, wanted for crimes all over the Alpha Quadrant. He has re-designated the Redemption to the Jolly Roger as we have seen here. Starfleet command suspects that his sanity has fractured thanks to the events that have transpired. However, as much as it may have failed, he is still smart enough to evade us at every turn, and even set traps and outsmart the best Starfleet captains."

The hologram display changed yet again, this time back to a visual of the Jolly Roger.

"Now that the history lesson is over, we need to get down to basics and our mission."

The Captain put both hands behind his back as he looked at the rows of pilots in front of him.

"Our objective right now is to find, attack and capture the Jolly Roger and apprehend the Commodore. We need that technology intact, and we need to find out what happened to his crew. To this extent, we need information first."

The ship began to spin in the hologram, and information came up showing weapon stats and other information on the ship as a whole. Someone whistled from the lower chairs.

Shit…that's a lot of firepower.

Daniel thought as he read it out. That was no longer a Nebula class cruiser…just from the firepower along, that could be qualified as a Battlecruiser, or hell, even a dreadnought! 4 Type XII Multi-fire phaser arrays, 3 Cardassian Disruptors (the kind they used in the Galor-class starships, even), 4 Klingon disruptor turrets, six torpedo launchers, an unknown subspace weapon capable of destroying a Borg Tactical cube in one shot, subspace drives capable of letting it jump to the other side of the system instantaneously and safely.

Now this is completely loaded.

He took a glance to Ashter and the others. They were going to have their work cut out for them to say the least. However, Ashter seemed to have a strange look in her eyes…as if she wanted to say something, but didn't want to divulge it here. She looked up, and met his eyes for a moment…in that one moment, Daniel got the message. Later. Ashter had something on her mind that she wanted to share with them…but not here.

He nodded, and continued to pay attention as the Captain spoke up, addressing his column directly.

"We have information on the ship and its capabilities, what we don't have is information on it's current status and whereabouts in the Xevenya system. Silver Scythes this is where you come in. Your squadron will be tactically deployed once we reach the outer edges of the system in…twelve hours, approximately. Your wings will investigate the system and conduct scans on all the planets and local jump nodes. We need to find this ship, and then scan it to find out its current condition, possible flight plan, how much fuel it has and what the state of its subspace drive is. I'll leave the planning in the capable hands of your squadron Commander, Lt. Commander Bishota. Star Childs and Suicide Kings, both of you are on guard duty. We've got a scan on the three nodes in the system. One leads to Villaires, the other to Ticonderoga and the last to an unidentified system. Your objective is to guard these nodes in case the Markhaven decides to go for them. Our ship will be waiting in the center of the system, and will deploy along with what resources Sinclair station can deploy with us. Most likely, their ships will deployed to the blockade, and we'll be providing the firepower necessary. Mad Bombers will deploy at the Villaires node, as that's central to the other two and will allow you to respond in the right amount of time, if need be. Your commanders with brief you on the shifts involved, as well as the waiting times."

The Captain finally stopped, taking a deep breath.

"That's it for this briefing. I'll leave you to your commanders for the rest."

With that, the Captain nodded at the commanders and then moved to left. The pilots quietly began to discuss about this. Daniel glanced at Ashter, somewhat curious as to what she had to say…but she kept silent, not saying a word.

Later then… Daniel thought to himself as he sighed and listened to Lt. Commander Bishota as she spoke out, giving them their orders.

Fifteen minutes later, Daniel's wing was out of the pit, and walking down the corridors. Moray glided past and above him, keeping pace with the rest of the ones that were walking. His long and slender form swam through the air, the full eighteen feet length stretching through the corridor. Daniel ignored it, though, instead focusing on Ashter's form as it walked in front of him. The corridor was initially crowded, but soon cleared out, leaving their group as the last one there. Finally, Ashter stopped, and turned at Skier and the others.

The three of them turned around (or rather, coiled back in Moray's case) and faced her. Looking at them, Daniel realized they all suspected that Ashter had something to say about all this. Moray was the first to speak out.

"You wish to say something, Miss Ashter. We saw it in the briefing room…you should say it now."

She only nodded, and looked away for a second.

"Something's not right about this whole deal."

Daniel looked at the others.

"So that's it? That's what you've been bottling up till now?"

Skier asked from behind him, echoing Daniel's thoughts. Ashter shot him a glare that could probably melt a bulkhead, and Skier shut up. She looked back at Daniel.

"No…something doesn't add up here. You saw the Commodore's transmission…that man was horrified when he finally came out of Xevenya."

Daniel nodded. That much was true as it is. His line of reasoning began to follow Ashter's, as Moray interjected from above him.

"I believe I know where you are going with this…if this is indeed where this started, and where the commodore has lost his comrades…why is he coming back here?"

Daniel paused to consider this…why had the Commodore come back here, of all places? Was he here to pay respects…or for something far more sinister? A flash of the memory from the nightmare hit him again…that vortex…those strange creatures…could it be?

no…no it couldn't. he brushed the thought aside.

"Whatever his reasons may be…we still have a mission to complete. I suggest we get some rest now, and meet up again in 9 hours and do our pre-flight checks and whatever testing and practice we need, understood?" The others nodded, and Alpha wing quickly departed, each going their separate ways, leaving Daniel all alone in the corridor. Sighing, he headed towards his quarters, stifling a yawn…perhaps now he could get some trouble free sleep, at least.