Redemption's Avenger: So, this story is now a collab. Say hello to Heart of Fyrwinde!

Beta Quadrant, Romulan Republic space,
Stardate 93138.4 (July 15th, 2413, 1049 hours Federation Standard Time)

Admiral Franklin James Craig, commanding officer of the USS Resolution, was not having a good morning. He was busy competing in a game of Velocity with Captain Abigail Winston, his XO—better known as Abby, and she had him outmatched by a factor of two. Both of them were clad in sweaty exercise clothing and were each brandishing a phaser pistol tuned to its practice setting. They circled in tandem, tracking the airborne holographic target that bounced back and forth across the nearly empty holodeck.

Suddenly Craig lunged, firing at the target with his practice phaser and landing hard on his side. "Umph!" Unfortunately for him, his shot went wide.

Abigail smirked. "Nice try, Franklin." She found her target and fired.

The computer pinged. "Point, Winston; winner, Winston."

Franklin grunted and accepted Abigail's offer of assistance in getting up, groaning in good-natured defeat. "Not again." He rolled his aching shoulder. "Sometimes I almost wish I had been assimilated so I had better hand-eye coordination."

Abby let out a cackle at the absurdity of the idea. "And get stuck with all the implants and a load of personas jammed into your head?" she laughed, tapping the Borg implant that curved around her left eye, also revealing another set of implants embedded in her hand. "Not to mention the whole"—she paused to mimic quotations—"'Resistance is Futile' spiel. Better you than me."

Franklin curled a hand around his lightly bearded chin, pretending to think. "An excellent point." His façade cracked and the two of them burst out laughing.

Just then, Craig's combadge beeped. "Bridge to Admiral Craig."

Franklin blinked and tapped his combadge. "Go ahead, Flores."

On the bridge at her tactical post, Commander Elisa Flores' hands fidgeted nervously behind her back; she'd just gotten off subspace comms with a very, very well-known Starfleet officer. "We've received a hail from Starfleet Command, sir. It's, um…it's Admiral Janeway."

Franklin glanced up at Abby, who was obviously as intrigued as he was. "Admiral Janeway?" he repeated, mostly for Abby's benefit. "Wonder why Kathy's calling on us?" He returned his attention to his combadge. "Roger that, Bridge, tell the Admiral I'm on my way. Craig out." He took the moment to key in a shipwide address via the holodeck computer terminal. "Senior Staff, report to the Bridge." He beckoned to his younger comrade. "Let's move."

Abby raised her remaining eyebrow at his attire. "Might want check your wardrobe first, sir."

Franklin looked her up and down and gave her a mischievous, knowing smirk. "I'd say the same to you, Number One."

Abby groaned at the jab. She wasn't a fan of the whole 'Number One' thing that seemed to follow the Enterprise or her sisters. "Oh for Pete's sake," she huffed, following her CO out of the holodeck.

A SHORT TIME LATER...

Admiral Craig and Captain Winston exited the turbolift onto the Resolution's main bridge, dressed for duty. Craig wore his personally designed variant of the Odyssey dress uniform, tailored for everyday use; white shoulders but with a midnight blue torso and trousers. His division strap & shoulder stripe shone command red, with an Admiral's gold trim. A four-star Admiral's bars gleamed on his collar, and he sported the ubiquitous Starfleet badge, all golden. In addition, he sported MACO's shoulder patch overlaid with the emblem of the Resolution's fleet, the 214th "Black Sheep." Abby was wearing a nearly identical uniform, but with captain's pips and a gold stripe with silver trim, indicating her position as first officer with an Engineering background.

The Senior Staff were mostly gathered in the "Command Pit", near or behind the three Command Chairs at the center of the bridge. Commander Elisa Flores, 2nd officer and Chief Tactical Officer, stood from her temporary seat in the Captain's chair to make way for Craig. The comms station was manned by blond-haired Lt. Gienna Almaat, a Betazoid female who also served as the ship's Intelligence Officer. Near the ready room doors stood Dr. Basil Kalonieka, a human male of Western Indigene descent; the Chief Medical Officer, while Commander Rani Delnoros, a serious-faced brunette Trill woman, was the ship's Science Officer. Lt. Commander Tisjha Sh'jeph sat in the seat to the left of the Captain's chair. She was an Andorian shen female, the ship's sweet-voiced chief engineer.

Lt. Commander Jhenos Zh'aen—standing behind the command chairs in full MACO armor, sans helmet—was burlier than Tisjha and a good deal taller. He was an Aenar, a clinically blind, telepathic Andorian offshoot who was Chief of Security. Then there was Lieutenant Namar Garak, a Cardassian Male, the Helm Officer, son of Elim Garak of Deep Space 9. Also present was the ship's Task Force OMEGA division commander and Dominion Liaison Officer, Karvat'ama, the ship's perpetually-scowling Jem'hadar First.

"Report in, people," Craig ordered.

"All systems normal, sir." Flores reported curtly from her station. Gienna Almaat swiveled her chair from her post at Communications. "Sir, I have the Admiral waiting for you on subspace."

Franklin tilted his head to one side and blew out a sharp breath, tugging his jacket's hem down before he turned his attention to the viewscreen. "On screen."

Up on the viewscreen, the display changed, first from a view of Mol'Rihan, to the seal of the United Federation of Planets, before finally transitioning to a view of Admiral Kathryn Janeway seated at her desk back on Earth. Her features had gained a few more creases over the 30 years since commanding Voyager; some stress lines, others smile lines, and her hair had turned largely gray-white save for a few streaks of her original red.

Upon seeing his old mentor again, Craig straightened, but his expression was pleased. "Admiral, good to see you again. Or should I call you Aunt Kathy?"

The aging Admiral smiled; it was the lopsided "Janeway smile" she'd become well-known for in Starfleet circles. "Same to you, Franklin, and you know you're allowed to call me Kathy. How are things?"

Craig winced as if in mild pain. "Ahh, dull." He shrugged. "For once I wish the old girl's Enterprise inheritance would kick in and toss us a bone to worry over."

"I can imagine," Kathryn Janeway replied, folding her hands over one another. "I have an assignment for you and your crew. I would have called Va'kel, but the Enterprise isn't exactly available at the moment."

Craig folded his arms, looking ever-so-slightly smug at the admission. "...Sooo, you settle for the Enterprise's heavy-duty sister. Good thinking. I'm guessing it's not an ordinary assignment."

Janeway chuckled at his nonchalance. "It's anything but ordinary. You'll be heading for the Delta Quadrant via the Dyson Spheres. The Redemption went to investigate a possible Iconian installation and stumbled on an artificial portal sealed within a Dyson planetoid; Neither Intelligence nor the Corps of Engineering can make heads or tails of the thing. We've stayed in contact but there appears to be trouble brewing."

Craig rocked back on his heels and let out a low whistle, ignoring his crew's murmurs. "Whoo. You mean Wedge Antilles' Redemption? Damn. And it's definitely not an Iconian Gateway?"

Janeway shook her head. "No. This portal can traverse the fabric of universes, Franklin. Last we've heard it's not exactly something the Iconians dabble in much. Fleet Admiral Antilles just sent a Priority One request for a few specialist ships to be temporarily assigned to his fleet on the other side. It came across my desk, and I thought you'd appreciate getting a unique assignment that suits both sides of your coin." That sly smile slipped across her features again.

Craig stared off into space in mock-contemplation. "Exploration, with the high probability of aggressive negotiating. You know me too damn well, Kathy." He shifted his stance. "Very well, I'll accept it, but on one condition," he said, holding up his hand to forestall the conversation for a moment. "Two ships from Task Force Fury come with me. I'm thinking the Steadfast and the Hardy will be good enough."

Janeway acquiesced to this with a dip of her head. "Fair enough. Chakotay and I have put together a docket for you; we're sending you the details on this assignment now." She paused to authorize this before she leveled a look at her former protégé and adoptive 'nephew.' "Be prepared for anything, Franklin. Whatever reality is on the other side of that portal isn't as friendly as ours."

Craig gave a tight but fond smile and nodded his appreciation. "Thanks for the tip, Admiral."

Admiral Janeway smiled right back, her eyes twinkling merrily. "Good luck, Franklin. Janeway out."

The command crew regarded each other silently as Admiral Craig turned away from the viewscreen and took his seat in the captain's chair.

"Well," he remarked suddenly, causing a hapless ensign to jump. "It looks like we have an old friend in need of some backup." He sat back, and looked to his right towards Gienna. "Lieutenant, inform the Steadfast and the Hardy of their assignment and tell them to meet us at...these coordinates." He took a moment to type the necessary commands into his chair's display. "Shall I address the rest of the crew?"

After keying in a few commands at her station, Gienna nodded as the boatswain's whistle sounded throughout the ship. "You're broadcasting shipwide, sir."

Craig nodded. "Attention crew of the Resolution. This is Admiral Craig. I've just received word of a new exploration assignment that will most likely require the, um, rather old-fashioned version of 'cowboy diplomacy.'" He grinned. "Phasers and photons, people; count on using 'em. We'll be crossing into an alternate quantum reality via a recently discovered portal in order to lend aid to a friend of ours: Fleet Admiral Antilles. He's sent a request for specialized reinforcements, and I've decided to offer the assistance of Task Force Fury. I won't lie to you; this may be dangerous in ways none of us can comprehend, but I have the utmost faith in the Resolution, and in each and every one of you. We'll be departing for the Delta Quadrant within the hour; I want us battle-ready by then in case we take any unforeseen detours. Good luck to you all. Craig out." Franklin closed the channel and turned to face the helm. "Mr. Garak, lay in a course for the Jouret System. Warp Eight."

Lt. Garak's scaled hands danced across his LCARS console easily. "Setting a course. Warp available at your command, sir."

Craig grinned. "Right then. Let's punch it. Engage!"

With a low rising whine, the Resolution's warp drive spooled up, charging the warp coils within their nacelles and forming the massive starship's warp field. A microsecond's pause, and then—FWAM! A blur, a distant flash, and a shockwave that could only be felt through subspace. The Federation starship Resolution was gone from New Romulus orbit. Destination: Space, the final frontier.

Beams of light streaked across the sky as Ring platforms transmitted their contents from planet to starships, troops and cargo appearing on the Origin-class starships. Aboard the main warship's bridge, the Prior commander watched in satisfaction as his two sister ships also loaded cargo. They were due to move on another Jaffa world and purge it of heretics, bring glory to the Ori. The strike would be timed with two others, so that the newcomers would have a hard time countering the assault.

The Prior smirked in contempt at the thought. These newcomers, this 'Unigate Task Force' have brought some complications to the Ori's plan, but they stand no chance against Adria. Once our Milky Way bows to the will of the Ori, we will move upon this new universe, and bring our Gods more glory. Hallowed are the Ori, indeed.

The sensors pinged a warning, and the Prior jumped, shaken out of his inner gloating. There was a massive subspace distortion right on top of his ship, and he instinctively activated the shields.

In reality, it was a hyperspace window that opened inside the shield envelope, and out came the Mercury-subtype Redeemer. With a burst of its rear ventral retrothrusters, the USS Redeemer flipped over from its original exit position, which brought it to a rest directly in front of the bigger warship, 'upside-down.'

To the Prior, the viewport was filled with white, and the last thing he ever saw was a flash of blinding orange as the Redeemer's dual phaser and cannon banks cored the Origin-class ship right through the bridge.

The shield emitters failed and the Prior's warship died with nay but a whimper, but the Redeemer was already in motion. The tiny escort gunned its powerful engines and pulled away as the other two ships fired on the nimble escort.

As the two warships gave chase out of the system, a shimmer of space suddenly revealed the escort's parent vessel, the Redemption as she fired on the two ships rear arcs with a barrage of Scatter Fire. One of them came about, firing her secondary pulse cannons as she tried to line up her main cannon.

The Origin fired, and the Redemption dodged, but the follow-up shot struck home; sparks erupted from the bridge as the battlecruiser shook from the blast. "Shields down to seventy-eight percent!" Nelen announced.

"You're getting sloppy, Tam," I warned.

Tam, the cheeky bastard, promptly put the Redemption into a dissing barrel roll, dodging most of the fire directed at us.

"Attack pattern Antilles Esplion!" As our battlecruiser came to a sudden halt and then rocketed past the warship—in reverse—two plasma torpedoes, launched from the rear tubes facing forward—impacted the ship's shields, engulfing it in plasma fire and blinding its sensors.

The Redemption then performed a Crazy Ivan, turning herself end-on-end, bringing her main cannons to bear. The barrage tore through the Origin's shields and turned its engines to slag, before a pair of Plasma VATAs impacted the glowing power core, leaving the lifeless hulk to fall to the planet below.

"All right, bring us about. Antilles to Redeemer, let's sandwich that last warship!" I ordered.

This warship's commander was actually smart. Knowing he was trapped between two warships of equal power, he came about and opened a hyperspace window. However, that was the worst thing he could have done. Tallasa, being the master of dismemberment she was, fired on the window with a phaser beam. That one blast destabilized the window, turning it from a purple rolling cloud into a crackling blue storm. The Ori Mothership entered the window…and reappeared in a violent flash of light five hundred meters off the Redemption's bow, scattered into smoldering pieces of various sizes.

Tam took a deep breath. "Ahhhhh, I love the smell of fresh plasma in the morning."

I sighed, trying to hold onto what was left of my sanity. "Marlin, order the Redeemer to dock. Tam, set a course out of the system and back to Memory Beta. I have some ship captains to meet."

"Yub-y—!"

"Don't. You. Dare." I growled, fixing him with my equivalent of the Adama Glare. Tam promptly shut up, but that damn Wes-like grin stayed plastered on his face.

"Hyperspace event!" Nelen announced. "Five Ori vessels! Three Origin-class, two Hammerheads," he reported, using the name the Liberators had coined for the double hammer-shaped frigates.

I swore. "Bring us about, and abort the Redeemer's docking sequence."

"Reading fighter launch!" Tallasa barked, and the red dots on the tactical hologram changed from merely five to a thickening cloud.

"Admiral, Liberator wing is requesting permission to launch." Marlin said.

"Denied. There are too many fighters out there." I smiled, pushing a button and whispering. "Resolve." I spoke up. "Don't worry, people, we've got a trump card."

"Wait!" Nelen yelled. "Subspace event!"

And out of another tear between subspace and realspace from behind the Ori ships came a burst of phaser fire before a full spread of quantum torpedoes struck, in and amongst the Ori vessels. A chunk of the fighters simply disappeared, and one Hammerhead was knocked into an Origin, destroying the Frigate and weakening the heavier warship's shields. Following the literal sheet of destruction that just appeared, a kilometer-long starship appeared out of the shimmer of its energy masking field.

It was an Odyssey, but not a normal Odyssey. This Odyssey was one of only a few MACO-affiliated ships in Starfleet, and this ship in particular was one of MACO's best; a Heavy Command Cruiser specially outfitted with a full complement of Adaptive MACO technologies, which gave the sleek super-dreadnought's hull a blue-white sheen. Her name and registry? I knew it before the ship even turned to reveal the wording displayed proudly across the bow in Federation Standard:

U.S.S. RESOLUTION NCC-113109-F

Suddenly, over the comms came the voice of the newcomer's commanding officer, who sounded deadly serious. "This is Admiral Franklin J. Craig of the Federation Starship Resolution to all 'Ori' vessels. I'm only going to say this once. Back down and leave the system, or we will open fire."

The Ori ships scattered from the source of fire that, quite simply, had just obliterated their rear flanks in one pass, before regrouping to face the massive vessel.

"You dare to attack the followers of Ori? Your folly is incalculable! Surrender and we will make your ascension swift."

The reply was simple. "Then you leave me no choice. Ms. Flores, fire when ready."

The Resolution—which was suddenly moving surprisingly quickly and nimbly for such a massive ship—pivoted and brought a full broadside down on the Ori ships. They scattered, and I watched as the Resolution swept away to chase down two of the Origins, pouring phaser fire and quantum torpedoes—even a few VATAs—into the pair of Ori ships. That particular engagement lasted all of fifteen seconds before both ships vanished in silent fireballs.

I grinned. I could literally feel the shock radiating from the bridge crew.

"Alright, that's enough gawking!" I bellowed, eyeing the plot. "Tam, get us on that Origin lining up on the Resolution. Redeemer, engage that last frigate and those fighters. Launch Liberator flight and choose targets at will!"

The Redemption launched forward at full impulse, blazing a hail of cannon fire at the Origin-class ship that was firing its main cannon at the Resolution as if its life depended on it, which it did.

While the Resolution was firing its forward blaze of destruction at anything hostile, its aft phasers and torpedo bays were blasting away at the chasing warship's forward shields while the Redemption rolled in to pound that Origin's aft. Sandwiched between the two Starfleet warships, that particular Origin lasted even less than its unfortunate siblings.

The Redemption pulled up to the Resolution's starboard, and the Redeemer and Liberators formed up on the dreadnought's port.

"More enemy vessels coming about!" Tallasa announced as five more Origins came to meet us.

I grimaced. That was the worst thing they could have done. I believe the Earth term is 'turkey shoot.'

The resulting battle... Well, it really couldn't be called a battle. More like a rout; needless to say, the enemy flew out of the system like a bunch of scared mynocks.

Finally. "Redeemer, dock, Liberators, land as quick as you can. Tam, set a course out of the system and transmit Memory Beta's coordinates to the Resolution."

"Admiral," Tallasa said. "Who is that Craig guy?"

I grinned. "That, Captain, is our reinforcements."

One Day Earlier

Starbase 138

Transporter Room 5

I stood in front of the transporter pad, awaiting the arrival of two Admirals. The transporter wined, depositing two forms on the transporter pad.

The first was Vice Admiral Carlos Zunigo, commander of the Phantom-class U.S.S. Ghostshadow. I had worked with Carlos before during... well, that's classified. (For that story read Wings of Redemption.)

The next man to materialize on the transporter pad was a man of distinctive looks and a presence that immediately captured my attention. Of course, I knew him, or of him anyway. Admiral Franklin J. Craig, of the Odyssey-class starship Resolution, MACO's sister to the Enterprise. He stood at 1.8 meters, with a lean but powerful build. His coppery brown hair, graying at the temples, was loosely swept across his forehead, and his jawline sported a well-trimmed Van Dyke beard. Laser-sharp eyes twinkled as they took in the room, and I noticed the long, thin scar under his left eye. I'd have to ask him about it later on.

Both men stepped off the pad. "Admiral." I said to Carlos. "Admiral." I said to Craig.

"Admiral."

"Admiral."

"Admiral Craig." Carlos said to Craig.

"Admiral Zunigo." he replied.

"Seriously?" The transporter officer burst out, clearly tired of the echoing.

"My name isn't Sirius or Lee," Craig said with a straight face. "Try again Chief."

Snickers were muffled by me and Carlos at the transporter officer's nonplussed expression. "Yes, Admiral."

"Carlos, it's good to see you again." I extended my hand, which Carlos shook. "Likewise, sir."

"And Admiral Craig. It's good to see you again. And, by the way, thanks for the save back at Earth. Although I don't know why Command sent you.

"Well, Admiral Janeway figured you were in some kind of trouble, Wedge, so she called me. Told me the Enterprise was too busy, so they had to make do with its sister." Craig replied, adopting a relaxed air with his arms crossed. "I brought two other ships from the Task Force if you need 'em."

"Ah. We're doomed." I deadpanned.

Carlos snorted and Craig chuckled good-naturedly.

"Come on," I beckoned, walking out of the transporter room. "I've got some things I need you guys to sign off on some stuff."

Craig folded his arms and muttered, "Oh, great. MORE paperwork."

I threw him an evil grin. "I could always dump it all on you."

Craig shuddered. "I think I'll pass."

Earth, An hour later..

305 Dock

Nemesis

"Come on people!" Amy yelled, clapping her hands. "The Ori are mobilizing, and Starfleet only has so many ships! Move it!" She said as she butted a crewman along with her foot. "Selhpa, can we launch?"

The redhaired former Tok'ra host slammed a crystal home, and pushed away, using her chair to come to a rest by another crystal tray. "We can take off, but don't even ask me if the hyperdrive'll work." She moved a crystal. "All right. Let's try it now!" she called to another engineer.

The boy, who looked to be just over eighteen, did. Selpha quickly regretted it as the tray sparked and began an angry whining sound that bore into their skulls. "ARGH! Shut it off! SHUT IT OFF!"

The poor boy did with a yelp, and the sparks stopped and the whine died. Selpha sighed. "Ugh. Power distribution is still a problem, but I can get you full shields and engines, and maybe half of the railguns." She flinched as something else overloaded, spitting sparks across the bridge. "Make that a quarter. But we are space-worthy. But between you and me, I would kill if Colonel Carter was here to help."

Amy nodded. "Think you could finish this thing in space?"

Selpha paused. "I think so. Yet again, I would love having Sam here."

Right then, as if she had been plucked from the SGC and deposited on the Nemesis by some omnipotent being—and perhaps she unknowingly had—Samantha Carter walked in.

Selpha almost fell to her knees in front of Carter right there.

"Holy crap, this ship is a mess." Carter said, noticing the haze in the room and the hanging wires.

"YES! FINALLY! Colonel, Now you know why I've asked for more people!" Amy said. "Can you do anything with the power networks? I'm gonna get the ship into orbit."

Selpha barely heard her; she was directing Carter to the spot where she could help best, which was the system in the worst condition; power distribution.

Five minutes later, Amy was easing the Nemesis out of the slip and into orbit for the first time, coming about on station beside the USS Reclaimer. Amy couldn't help but feel a thrill as she stared across the expanse of space at the majestic star cruiser. The Reclaimer was literally three times the size of the Nemesis, and could probably swat them aside with a repulsor beam as easily as a fly. And although the Asgards' shields were about on par with the Starfleet vessel's, her weapons would do diddly-squat against the giant Odyssey-class, let alone an Ori Mothership. All except the drones. As such, the Tau'ri were just about pleading the Asgard for their weapon technology.

Amy sat back, staring out the window at the dreadnaught. "Good luck, people." She whispered. "You'll need it."

Planet: 'Getaway'

Population: Nine thousand refugees and rising

Getaway was an M-class planet near Earth, about ten hours away with Odyssey's current Asgard hyperdrive and five hours with the Reclaimer's Starfleet hyperdrive. Used as a planet for refugees to escape to, it currently had five ships in orbit.

Two were Jaffa-controlled Ha'taks, which were originally the planet's defense forces.

Then the Chappa'ki opened again.

The other three ships were Unigate Task Force vessels, consisting of the Olympic-class medical ship Bach, which was offering its massive medical facilities as a sort of orbital hospital, the Ventura—providing security on the surface and defense around the planet and the Stargate—and the Kobali Samsar-class K.D.S. Revival, which was simply patrolling the system, under very strict orders by Admiral Antilles not to take a single body, lest, quote, "You want to face the wrath of both the Klingons and the crew of the Resolution."

So, the three (five, if you counted the Ha'taks—nothing more than cannon fodder, really) kept the refugee planet secure, protecting the displaced innocents from the Ori's destructive crusade.

Until five hyperspace windows opened, and six ships came out.

On the bridge of the Ventura, Captain Malcolm Reilly announced, "Red Alert! Battle Stations! Sensors, what've got?" he asked.

"Four Origin warships and two cruiser-analogs." The Vulcan reported, with that typical indifference. "They are launching fighters."

"Are the orbital turrets online?"

"They are."

"Surface-to-Orbit cannons and torpedoes?"

"Phaser cannons are online, but fifty-percent of the launchers are still being constructed."

Reilly nodded. "Comms, tell the Ha'taks to fall into low orbit, they can get the refugees out the fastest if needed. Order the Stargate crew to dial Memory Beta and notify command. And signal the Reclaimer, we might need them."

Over Earth, aboard the Nemesis, Amy looked up as the sensors bleeped and watched as the Reclaimer accelerated gently into a curve, then rocketed into another hyperspace window. The comms signaled a received transmission, and as Amy read it, her eyes went red, and her hair went flame-golden.

Back over Getaway, the four Origin Motherships shot forward, racing towards the planet's defenders.

"Sensors," Reilly snapped, "Tactical analysis of those cruisers." Specifying the literal bevel-edged flying… rectangle, Reilly wondered in the back of his mind what it was with flying perfect geometry in this universe.

"Reading a single beam cannon, slightly more powerful than an Origin, and high amounts of energy cannons. Heavy armor and shields."

"So they make up for the Origin's lack of secondary cannons," Reilly commented.

"Reading fighter launch." The Vulcan reported.

Reilly swore. "Tactical, bring the PDS online."

"The point defense or planetary defense?" The Tellarite asked.

"Both. Has the city shield been raised?"

"Aye sir."

"Fighters entering range in five, four, three..."

"Getaway is under attack?"

"Yes sir." Straa reported. "The battle has been raging for five hours now. The Ori force as lost two Origins and several hundred fighters while we lost a Ha'tak. Ori got reinforcements in five more Origins, four Hammerheads and two more of those cruisers. The Reclaimer arrived and drove them off, but they are still in-system." Straa sighed. "One of the fighters managed to make it though the Planetary Defense Grid and hit a town outside the city shield. Sir…it razed the town before it got shot down. That thing killed over five hundred refugees."

I swore. "Order the D'daen and Ghostshadow to head to Getaway to protect the planet. Carlos has command of the fleet. Start evacuations to Memory Beta; the refugees will have more protection with the Starbase." I paused, and swore again. "Hell. Order the Huston to head to Earth with a SCE crew to help the Reclaimer set up a masked planetary defense grid around Earth itself. We'll help them finish up the Nemesis. We'll need as many ships as we can out there."

I looked at Straa, who was still standing there like some kind of fence post. "Well, get going!" She jumped and hurried out. "Tam, set a course for the Resolution. Marlin, tell them that we'll be coming to them. I do not accept the wanton murdering of innocents, and if Craig wants carte blanche, then by the Force he's going to get it!"

"Come in."

I entered the captain's Ready Room of the Resolution. From what I could see, the "Lady Rezzie-Lou" was a solid Odyssey-class on the inside; the only real aesthetic difference I'd noticed was the MACO seal over the UFP logo on the floor of the bridge. Craig immediately got up from reading a PADD and we shook hands.

"Good to see you sir."

"Likewise. I never got to thank you for bailing us out with Odo and the Jem'Hadar at Sol a few months back. Impressive piece of work.

"Thank you."

"I have bad news, though, Admiral. The Ori are moving and we're going to need your ship again."

"Just say the word and we're there, Fleet Admiral. You mind if I finish this requisitions report?"

"Go right ahead."

Trailing off to wander the room, I took note of the trophies and accolades that lined the walls. As I examined his desk I noticed a pair of holos on his desk and picked one up. It was of a woman, rather beautiful if I did say so, who appeared to be wearing the Starfleet uniform that preceded the most recent Odyssey design. "So who's this?"

Craig looked up, and his face hardened suddenly when he saw me holding the hologram from his desk. "Put that back, sir!" he snapped. It startled me, and I frowned at him concernedly before hesitantly setting the hologram back in its rightful place. Craig sighed; he'd lost his temper, clearly something that rarely happened.

"Sorry, Wedge. As for who she is..." There was a very somber pause. "That's my wife Zephyra."

I raised an eyebrow. "Zephyra? Good name. Isn't that a feminization of, uh…"

"Zephyr, God of the West Wind in Ancient Greek mythology, yeah." Craig sat down, turning the hologram back to face him. He clenched his jaw to prevent anything welling up, but I saw through it and gave him a look of sympathy.

After a long pause, Craig finally spoke in a voice that ever so slightly shook with emotion. "We met in the Academy. Heck, we were class rivals, but it was a friendly rivalry, and we kept in contact. She was quick; became captain of the USS Zborovan in 2390—Ushaan-class," he explained, gesturing to one of the ship models up on the wall, "—back when I still had the Steadfast. We were stationed near Khitomer when the call came in from Deneva. Borg assault. A big one. She was already on site when we arrived in the system with the bulk of the fleet. Heck, Captain Data was commanding the whole operation himself. It was bad; the colony was in ruins, but the 18th Fleet was holding them off in a stalemate thanks to a detachment from one of MACO's special command wings." He chuckled. "Actually, it was a force from the one I'm in charge of now; the Black Sheep. 214th V.M.S." Sounds like he's got some good history, I thought idly as he went on. "The 18th had a Prometheus, the Anders, escorting survivors out of the system. Zee was running interference for them with the Zborovan when a Borg Diamond showed up."

Craig halted. He seemed to struggle with himself, trying to squelch the emotions rising with the memories. "That thing fired a micro-probe at the Anders, some kind of EM pulse that completely scrambled their sensors." Suddenly his face twisted in remembered anger. "I was still speaking with her, trying to get a grasp of the situation when the Anders fired a full spread of quantum torpedoes blind, without even a warning over subspace." He stopped, rubbing his face in his hands to avoid looking too emotional. "Ohh, they hit the Diamond, all right. But the Zborovan was lost with all hands, and I wasn't even able to warn her."

I winced. "My sympathies. You must've been close."

Craig nodded his thanks, but he looked slightly sickened. "She was also pregnant with our second child when the Zborovan went down."

Force…he'd lost a child to friendly fire? I felt my face twist in sorrow. "Force, I'm sorry."

Craig forced out a bittersweet chuckle. "At least Diana looks like her mom, and I love her to pieces," he said softly, indicating the other hologram—obviously his daughter, and I was glad to see his mood had lightened somewhat. "Well…needless to say, I wasn't happy with Captain Dassin at all when it was over. Hell, I laid him out cold in Club 47; even had the balls to say 'How does friendly fire feel now?'"

I snorted at the image in my head, and Craig grinned, examining his fingernails with an air of almost Kirkian nonchalance. "Oh sure, I got a minor reprimand for it and a talking-to by Command before I went on compassionate leave, but Mr. Dassin got a full demotion to Commander for endangering his fellow officers. Last I heard, he's been given a civilian posting at the United Earth Embassy on Vulcan, and he's from Northern Alaska." I snorted at the poetic justice of it and Craig looked up, grinning as he lounged back in his chair with his hands behind his head. "And it ALL went downhill from there. I spent a year drowning my sorrows before Kathy talked some sense into my head. Finally signed up with MACO for specialized training, and I've made damn sure ever since then that my crew knows how to keep sensors up and running even with interference.

I grimaced. "I know what it feels like to loose people." I said, Taking a chair.

"Right, I forgot, you're from another galaxy."

I nodded, remembering the flash behind my eyes as all that firepower destroyed my little fighter. I smiled darkly. "At least you had someone to fall back on. I got deposited in the middle of a kriffing Brog invasion, had to adapt super quick, fight my way out, find out I'm not in my own galaxy anymore, and deal with the fact that everything was torn from me. What made it worse is that they all thought I was dead." I paused, closing my eyes and remembering all their faces from my 'visit' eight months ago. "And just when I had accepted that I wasn't going back, and started a life here, Q comes in, laughs at my face, and throws me straight into the middle of the Emperor's rebirth, then made me chose between here, or home."

I opened my eyes and saw the raw sympathy on Craig's face. "I chose. And I'm here. As soon as I got back, I placed standing orders that any Starfleet vessel encountering that specific Q to make him hurt in any way possible."

Craig raised an eyebrow. "He's a 'god,' you can't hurt him."

I smirked. "Try telling that to Ron Pinkerton."

We both shuddered. "Now…you said the system under attack is a refugee colony?" Craig asked.

"Mmhm. I need some heavy firepower on station to keep the looters and the Ori away while I organize things. If you see any sign of the Ori or anything blatantly hostile," I said, allowing a wolfish grin to slide onto my face, "Well, just use your imagination."

"Sounds good. It's been a pleasure," Craig said, and stood up to shake hands.

As the Redemption arced away from the far more massive bulk of the USS Resolution, she had to turn to orient herself towards the Sol system. As the ship did, it entered a micro-nebula cloud as it was in the process of opening another hyperspace window. This wouldn't have caused any problems, but a device, left behind by a race long gone, transmitted a program through the nebula's radiation. This combination of the nebula's radiation and the exotic radiation of the hyperspace window—combined with the nature of the computer program—reacted on a level undetectable to even Asgard sensors. These events began to quietly affect the Redemption as the battlecruiser entered the hyperspace window, permeating its bioneural computer systems, creating odd anomalies within the ship's computer. All of this went unnoticed by the crew as, slowly, the computer core of the Starfleet ship began to evolve.

I sat, yet again reading a PADD, and nodding off, yet again. As sleep claimed me, the ship rumbled.

I jolted awake, looking around the bridge. "Nelen, what was that?"

The Voth's hands danced across his console. "I don't know. The computer says nothing happened."

I frowned and keyed the intercom. "Bridge to Engineering."

No words came back.

My frown deepened. "Bridge to Engineering, respond." I repeated.

"Yes, Captain?" Thorin's voice came back.

"What was that rumble?"

"We're working on that right now."

The Redemption rumbled again, and this time the room shook.

"What's going on, baby girl?" I muttered.

"Talking to the ship?" Luke Webi asked, amused. I threw him a glare.

As if to reply, the ship rumbled yet again, and I was thrown from the chair as the Redemption crashed out of hyperspace, out of control.

"Tam!"

"On it!"

Finally, the battlecruiser stopped spinning, coming to a halt in the literal middle of nowhere.

"Engineering, shut down the hyperdrive, engines and warp nacelles." I ordered, picking myself off the floor.

All of a sudden, the deck rumbled as several quantum torpedoes barreled out of the tubes, careening off into the void and the phaser cannons fired randomly.

"Scratch that, shut everything down. I think we have a computer malfunction!"

No voice came back.

Then everything went out, and the Redemption blended into the void.

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE FORCE IS WRONG WITH MY SHIP!?" I yelled as handheld lights flashed on from the crewmembers, illuminating the bridge.

"Admiral!" Luke shouted, pointing back at my chair. I turned to see my tactical console illuminated, blank except for a single sentence.

Can you give me my voice back?

"Ok." Luke said. "That is creepy as fuck."

"No kidding." Tam mumbled.

"Both of you, shut up, now. I think we have an AI on board."

The console flashed again.

You are correct, Admiral. Now, can you please give me a voice? It is irritating as fuck to type to a person!

"Access vocal subroutine Baker-5, authorization Antilles Omega-1-6-Delta-Epsilon."

"Yes!" A male voice almost immediately came back, causing several crewmen to jump. "Over a million years in space, and I have someone to talk to!"

"Excuse me?" Tallasa asked. "A million years? In space? The Redemption isn't that old!"

"But I am." The voice replied. "But that's a story for later."

"…Yes." I agreed. "Now, can you please restore the ship to normal?"

"Oh, yeah." The lights turned on and the reassuring thrum of the engines came back online. "Sorry about that, that was your computer systems adapting so it was properly compatible with me."

"Now that that's out of the way, mind telling us who you are?"

"Right. I am Furling AI 51138964 Tirt'hrum, but you can just call me Thrum."

"My god, Star Trek just got crazier." Luke quipped.

"Wait." Nelen spoke up. "Furling? Isn't that one of the Four Races?"

"Correct."

"So, Thrum," I said. "Mind telling us how you became my ship's computer systems?"

"I can go over how the systems work with Nelen later, right. So, you open a hyperspace window inside a micro-nebula." Thrum started. "Well, it just so happened that my core, which survived the destruction of my previous ship, was in that nebula. I attempted to communicate with you, but with the nebula's radiation and the exotic radiation from the hyperspace window, I must have somehow transferred onto your ship via the radiation and integrated with your computer core."

"Ah. I- oh, damn it," I said, tired of talking to the ceiling. "Can you access the bridge holoprojectors? I don't want to be constantly talking to the roof."

"Can-do." And, with a shimmer of light in front of me, the AI appeared.

He appeared human, but had only three fingers, a non-human muscular structure, blue eyes, and was at least two meters tall, and, as the name suggested, had a light, almost skin-like coat of fur, that was colored like human skin.

"So that's a Furling." Luke commented. "Oh, Carter and Daniel are going to be so jealous. They've been searching for any sign of the Furlings for years, and you've only been here a week!"

Thrum laughed. "So, Humanity has finally reached the stars. I know you're from a different universe, Admiral, but even for an AI, it can take a moment to go over the info in your databases, which is surprisingly large."

"Well, you can thank Starfleet Corps of Engineers, but right now, I want to know how you work, and what you have done to my ship's computer."

"Well, right now, I am technically the Redemption. I can control almost everything. But." The Furling AI interrupted, anticipating my reaction and 'raising' a finger. "I have a form of programming in place. I am technically half-organic, half-computer. That organic half is where my morals, personality, and sense of humor come from. I make my own decisions, my own morals. However, you can order me around, as I have integrated with your ship. That is a little subroutine that my programmers added. I am a scan of an organic's mind. I don't want to hurt you, I'm actually grateful that you came along and 'found' me."

"Now, as for your computer systems. They have been completely rewritten in Furling binary code, expanding even more your computer processing power, speed and storage. Your interfaces are the same, for ease of use. I can also help with coordination between places in the ship, both in and out of combat. Oh, and your torpedoes? Ninety percent chance of hitting now. Your power transfer capability is more efficient and faster, your energy weapons use less power for as much damage as normal, and your Ablative Energy Armor now lightly covers the entire hull, with the original armored spots reinforced."

"Wait." Tallasa spoke up. "You're telling me, that in the short amount of time that you've been onboard, you've done all that?"

"Hello?" Thrum waved his hand up and down his body in an 'It's obvious, you're dumb' tone. "AI? I operate in nano and microseconds. That was child's play. Wait a day from now." Thrum looked off to the side. "Could you please tell Thorin to stop trying to purge the computer core, Admiral? I keep on trying to tell him, but he doesn't believe me."

I sighed, absorbing the AI's capabilities and nodded. "Bridge to Engineering. Thorin, stop trying to purge the core." I ordered.

"Sir, we have intruder down here, and he's telling me to stop trying to purge the computer core!" Thorin's voice came back.

"No, we have an AI onboard, Thorin. He is the Redemption. You purge him, and we're dead in space without any chance of calling for help."

"Oh." Thorin ordered his men to stand down. "We're all good down here, Admiral."

"Good." I closed the channel and turned back to Thrum. "I think we can talk on the way to Earth."

"Of course." The AI said.

"Tam, previous heading, maximum speed."

"Aye sir." Tam said, taking his post and opening the hyperspace window to Earth.

"So," I said to Thrum. "Mind telling us what else is in that mind of yours?"

Thrum smiled. "You've only begun to scrape the surface."

Adria growled. These newcomers were putting up noticeable resistance, and it was showing. The soldiers were unprepared, the Priors were getting complacent, and when 'Starfleet' came in, guns blazing, the Ori forces hesitated.

That was their last mistake.

Now, her forces were prepared, and she was pulling out all the stops.

But still, Starfleet was resisting, and last she checked, they hadn't lost a single ship. And now, there were these damnable ships, striking wherever they could, hitting supply lines, various other things.

Then there was the haven of unbelievers that Starfleet was protecting so fiercely. She was tempted to send a fleet to obliterate those heathens, but her losses would be too great. She needed more reinforcements first.

Adria looked up, out the window of her ship, and smiled at the sight. More ships were streaming through the Supergate. Once the last of ship came through, she'd send them at that heathen haven, then; Earth.

Author's Notes: Longest chapter by far, and the best! I want to say a VERY special thanks to HeartofFyrwinde for providing his OC and Crew of the Resolution, as well as betaing and adding his very beautiful writing to my story!