Chapter 01

SENATOR JAMESON'S OFFICE

EARTH

Jameson leaned back in his chair and took a long sip of his Saurian Brandy. He sat the datapad that he had been reading down and thought deeply. On the datapad was information given to him by Admiral Clayborne about a recent survey by a scout vessel. The Bozeman had come across a planet that had just been contacted by Klingons, according to the Organian treaty, it is considered Neutral territory, and since they were contacted by the Klingons, the Federation could make open contact as well.

The planet was also in a strategic place near the Klingon Neutral zone. If the Federation was able to sign a treaty with them, Starfleet would be pleased on getting a star system near enough to the Klingons to help monitor the border. He really did not care about Starfleet's concerns; they were just looking for something to expand their power base. The exciting thing to him was that the planet was mineralogical rich, especially for materials for spacefaring vessels. His secretary beeped him, "Mr. Gold here to see you."

"Send him in."

Eli Gold walked in dressed as impeccably as he always was, and walked into the office. Jameson motioned to a chair, "Sit down Eli."

Gold sat down and said, "The next wave of leaks has been done, they will hit the newswaves tomorrow."

Jameson nodded, "Good. I have something else for you to do. Arrange to meet with the President."

Gold pulled out a datapad and started tapping in the orders, "Concerning what?"

"Opening relations with Mahgreb."

Gold shook his head, "I'm not familiar with that name."

Jameson handed his datapad over to Gold. "I'm not surprised, it's just been contacted for the first time. This pad has all the data plus my notes on why I think it is an important planet."

Gold took a very fast look, and saw exactly why Jameson thought it was important. "I assume you also would want me to tip off some of your donors to scale up production?"

Jameson smiled and nodded. "Exactly, they will need probably six to twelve months to make the equipment to start a large-scale mining operation. They will have a jump over all other competitors."

Gold asked, "Who are you thinking that should be sent out there?"

Jameson took another long sip, "I'm thinking Ambassador Mamet."

Gold raised an eyebrow, "The Denobulan?"

Jameson leaned forward, "What's wrong with him?"

"He's too nice."

Jameson smiled, "I know, but he is an effective negotiator. Once we get the President to do that, then we will have to arrange Starfleet for transportation out there."

Gold nodded and with a wave from Jameson, it was time to leave. He got up and left. As he was walking down the hallway looking at the pad from Jameson, he was thinking of the possibilities. Backward primitive society, but rich mineralogically. Yes, the possibilities could be very good.

STUDIO 5C

MAGHREB MAMMOTH NEWS

MAGHREB

News anchor Shepherd Fox was rated one of the most popular on the planet, and enjoyed having controversial subjects as they led to great ratings. He was going to stoke the fires on the latest topic that promised to be a very controversial subject by introducing his next guest, "Today, we have the leader of the growing anti-alien movement across the globe. This is the first Maghrebian that made contact with life from another planet. To put it in perspective, before three months ago we never even knew that life was possible off our world, and suddenly now we have multiple alien groups that are negotiating with us for mining rights to our planet. I would like to welcome Doctor Zouger, principle scientific advisor to the Maghreb Army." is this interview going to be the basis of a conflict later on?Zouger is conflicted all over the place, yet his suggestions were you saying that people who advocate citizens being armed are xenophobes? I don't thik so but it comes outthat way.

Dr. Zouger was wearing a very expensive suit and was well manicured for this interview, "Thank you Mr. Fox, but to correct you, I am no longer with the Maghreb Army."

Fox picked up with that, "I apologize, and please call me Shep. Dr. Zouger, let's start with that, why are you not with the Army after a long, distinguished career?"

Zouger was sitting across the desk from Fox and had his hands folded at first, but started moving them during his explanation, "It was over my disagreement with Prime Minister Kurbish on how he wanted to handle the negotiations with the aliens concerning mining rights."

Fox asked, "Before we go into that, I'd like to first start with background. Tell us about that First Contact."

Zouger started, "As you said, it was about three months ago. If you remember, we had a bunch of confirmed UFO sightings, the Army was denying it, but I was chief advisor to a fast-response team for this continent should we spot UFO's here. As it turned out, this particular UFO we had tracked from two other confirmed landing areas and tracked it to its landing site. We responded and were prepared to meet the aliens."

Fox expanded his question, "Which was fortunate for you, being the foremost authority on aliens."

Zouger rose to the comment, "Yes, all my life's work was to take what little evidence and many theories we had and try to deduce what contact with aliens would be like. I have had to work with little evidence, but many ideas on what life on other worlds would be like. I wanted to make sure that if we contacted aliens in my lifetime, we would not make a mistake that could cost us all our lives."

Fox asked, "Why would it cost us all our whole lives?"

Zouger started moving his hands with the explanation, "The tremendous amount of energy it would take to move a ship from one star to another in one's life would by necessity be portable, therefore small. A ship would also need to carry return fuel, and probably a reserve. I calculated that even a one-man ship with life support would have to carry enough energy that if detonated on our world, it would rip most of our atmosphere away. This is for a small ship, which is not what we found when we saw the aliens."

"What did you find?"

"Well, their ship was large, a little bigger than two of our city busses. It also was quite unrecognizable as a ship."

Fox asked, "What did it look like?"

"Very simply, like a large, oblong blob of water."

Fox was stunned, "We have never heard first-hand accounts of this, and this is an exclusive. Please describe what you saw."

"Well, the blob of 'water' was about twenty meters long, four meters high, and ten meters wide. It was absolutely featureless, and also opaque, you couldn't see through it or in it, but it was there, smooth, and featureless. Outside were two alien lifeforms in spacesuits working on equipment."

Fox asked, "What did they look like?"

Zouger described the scene, "Like man-sized crabs, complete with huge pincer claws. They were dressed in their spacesuit, presumably with water inside or something. We had them surrounded, per our protocol, and we were ready to destroy them if anything went wrong."

Behind Fox was a drawing of the spaceship and Vernali. "We have an artist's sketch of what these aliens looked like based on what you described earlier. It must have been frightening."

Zouger nodded, "We were trained for this, tried to imagine what it would be like, but it's quite different when you are faced with something totally…. Alien. However, I have been working on this my whole life and was quite well prepared. It was difficult to manage the situation with all the confusion."

Fox asked, "But Colonel Sasha was in charge, wasn't he? Didn't he manage the situation?"

Zouger nodded, "Yes, but barely. It was an overwhelming situation. The Vernali were huge, and it affected us on a very basic level. You see a being that with one quick swipe, could cut off your leg with his claw, much less activate an alien weapon that would have tremendous power. After seeing what the Vernali were doing I realized the alien was trying to activate a communications device…"

Fox interrupted, "But he could have been activating a weapon."

"Maybe, but the alien could also see that he was surrounded. We presumed that any alien species would see overwhelming force and respond appropriately. He could have killed me, or all of us, but when faced with the weaponry, he stopped moving. That told me that this creature didn't want to die and could be reasonable. He made an initial move towards a button but then stopped. I recommended to Colonel Sasha that we not shoot, that the alien was trying to communicate."

Fox said, "Did Colonel Sasha listen to you?"

Zouger nodded, "Yes, but it was all I could do to reason with the poor man. He was quite out of his element. I however, have been studying my whole life for this very event. Colonel Sasha wanted to kill them right away. I was able to convince him that it wasn't necessary."

Fox asked, "You mean to tell me the Army wanted to destroy the Vernali?"

Zouger shook his head, "No, but the situation was out of control, we just needed saner heads."

Fox refocused, "To get back, the Vernali was going to be touching a button, it could have been a weapon."

Zouger said, "It wasn't, it was their translation device. From that we were able to start a conversation."

Fox observed, "It sounds like they were reasonable, why are you so against aliens? Many said they will could have the answer to all our problems."

Zouger shook his head, "They were not the only aliens we came across. Shortly after I started talking with the Vernali, another group materialized through something like a teleporter. They were called Klingons."

Fox asked, "Peaceful?"

"Far from it. About fifty showed up at once, and within the first few seconds they destroyed the tanks and knocked out the men. I thought the men outside the tanks were killed, although they were rendered unconscious through some means."

A drawing appeared behind Fox and showed an artist's rendition of a Klingon shooting a raygun at a tank. "This drawing shows one of the scenes you described to our artist earlier. Is this correct that a tank was destroyed by a handgun?"

Zouger nodded, "Yes, I saw no other weaponry other than something that looked like knives. But they took out our heavy battle tanks with a pistol of some sort. Same weapon had a different setting that stunned multiple people."

"And this is the source of your concern?"

"Partially. To make it short Shep, there are two major powers vying for our mineral rights. Each claims the other is savage, untrustworthy, and will enslave us. Both have commanding technology that we can only dream of, and we know nothing about them. There is also a treaty between them enforced by a race called the Organians, who are even more powerful. We cannot trust them and should make them leave. I'm not sure we could force them if we wanted to force them, and that is a frightening thing."

Fox asked, "What would you recommend?"

"Well Shep, the second power that showed up, someone called the Federation, said that if we refused both of them, that both the Federation and the Klingons would declare us neutral, and we would be under protection by the Organians. There are other powers to be concerned about, and we would not be protected against them. Our only hope is to have a system in place to defend ourselves in case we are threatened with being taken over. First, we need to have every citizen armed and able to defend home and family with no record by the government as to who is armed or not."

"Citizens are already allowed to own personal weaponry."

Zouger explained. "We are going to have to make this planet very difficult to occupy. Everybody needs to be armed, and if there are any records, the aliens will be able to find them. Second, we need to organize people right now into small resistance cells and start training to rage a guerilla warfare against whoever occupies us. Prime Minister Kurbish thinks I am overreacting, but I tell you they are coming."

Fox let the silence hang for a moment before quietly saying, "We aren't taken over yet."

"No, and now is the time to act, before we lose who we are. Do you know who the Vernali feared?"

"Those were the crabs?"

"Yes, they were afraid of the Klingons, because they would eat them!"

Fox asked, "Then why not side with the Federation? They may be the more reasonable."

Zouger started to get more animated, "Because we do not know anything about them! They may be playing the kind, peaceful people to us, but what do we really know? The Federation crew I saw were from at least three species, all very different from us except the Captain. The Captain was Vulcan and mostly looked like us except for the pointed ears!"

Behind Fox another drawing of Captain Saketh. Zouger continued, "He was extremely intelligent, rational, but cold."

"Cold-blooded?"

Zouger shook his head, "No, cold as in no emotion, and aloof too. He came across to me as if he were looking at a lower life form. Like us and dogs. I don't trust them any more than the Klingons. We need to start preparing now!"

SENATOR JAMESON'S OFFICE

EARTH

Ambassador Mamet walked in and Jameson greeted him warmly, "Stan good to see you. Want a drink?"

Mamet sat down and said, "Yes, I assume this is a business call."

Jameson poured two drinks and handed one to Mamet, "Yes, it is. I was successful in getting the President to assign you to this deal of negotiating with the Maghreb for mining rights."

Mamet sipped his drink, "I thought it had your fingerprints on the orders. What is your angle?"

Jameson said, "If we can get this, I'll have my planet's mining consortium sufficiently spun up to make the bid to the Federation council sufficiently enticing."

Mamet nodded, "Kickbacks?"

"Potentially the largest yet."

Mamet asked, "My portion?"

"Our standard rate."

Mamet thought quietly, "One proviso, how well have you read the Bozeman's report?"

Jameson looked at him quizzically, "I've read it."

Mamet said, "You read the portion of their demand for technology, all kinds of technology."

Jameson said, "Yes, what of it?"

"Did you get the part that Captain Saketh said we couldn't give weapons? The Klingons jumped all over that."

Jameson asked, "What's your plan?"

Mamet quietly offered, "I let them know we'll provide weapons, off the books, behind the scenes. It's the only way to counter the Klingon offer. If we don't, we'll lose, I'm sure of it."

Jameson thought quickly, "I have no problem, what are the complications?"

"Aside from it being illegal? How do I get a sample of what we are offering out there? There are no civilian ships out that far. I'm assuming Starfleet will transport me."

Jameson said matter-of-factly, "Just order the Captain to take it, don't offer an explanation."

Mamet shook his head, "I saw the hearings a couple of years ago on the Wisconsin, what if I get that Captain or one like him?"

Jameson bit his lip in frustration, "That Jacobs is a wildcard. He's a true-blue believer, an idealogue. He's an anomaly. Just browbeat whatever Captain you have and they will give in. Nobody wants to pick a fight with an ambassador."

Mamet snapped back, "I don't think you're listening to me, Chuck." He offered the last portion with a snarl. "If they make a scan of the package and find phasers, the game is up. I need assurance."

Jameson sighed, "I don't know who the Captain will be, I don't know the fleet disposition. How big of a package will it be? You need like ten phasers or something?"

Mamet laughed, "Charles, you are a shrewd politician, but not that skilled of a diplomat. I need to show that we're serious about our agreement. I'm thinking of at least five thousand. Probably more like ten thousand."

Jameson exclaimed, "Ten thousand?! How big of a container will you need?"

"I'll actually need two large shipping containers. I want them sealed and shielded. That brings up the next issue."

Jameson shot back, "What?"

"I want a kickback on the weapons portion too. I know you are going to make a mint off it, I want a portion. Double."

Jameson's mind reeled. The mining issue was all legitimate, sort of. The kickbacks of course were not. The weapons portion would have to be totally black. How to pay for it? Easiest way would be diverting some of the raw dilithium ore. That would be mean setting up an entire black supply chain. Very risky, but doable. Jameson checked his status board out of view of any visitors. It showed green. No detected bugs or recording equipment. Mamet is right, this would be a mint, even giving him double portion. "Agreed. I'll let you know how I plan to get you out there." An idea just popped in his head. "Would an Admiral be enough to keep a Captain from interfering?"

Mamet asked, "I'm not up on Starfleet regs, will an Admiral have enough pull to counter a ship's Captain on his own ship?"

Jameson slowly nodded, "Yes, there probably will be a paper trail, but if an Admiral in question made it an official, written order, a Captain would not be able to scan the package."

Mamet nodded, "Yes, then it would work. Do you have an Admiral in mind?"

Jameson said, "Yes, I do."

JAMESON'S PRIVATE HUNTING GROUNDS

NORTHERN MINNESOTA

EARTH

Admiral Clayborne sat down in the duck blind after a long drive with Senator Jameson in the mudmobile. They were quite literally out in the middle of nowhere. Clayborne knew the rules, not to bring along anything except the hunting equipment that was provided. Something was up. The two were alone and talking about nothing on the way out to the blind. Jameson checked his discrete bug warning indicator and Clayborne was clean. The they shot at a few ducks with the plasma shotguns, but both missed. For a military man, Clayborne was a bad shot to by Jameson's standards.

"I should have had that last one Senator."

"No problem, Harry, I'm not out here for duck hunting after all."

You never are, Clayborne thought. He is just out here to make sure no conversation is recorded. "What are we out here for after all?"

"I have a task for you. Ambassador Mamet is going to planet Maghreb to start official negotiations for mining rights."

Clayborne nodded, "The recent dilithium find? I heard about that. Biggest yet recorded, if it is confirmed. Also, Pergeium, Uranium, and a dozen other minerals vital for spaceflight in record amounts. Also, it is strategically located along the Klingon border." Clayborne blinked, "You want me to accompany the Ambassador?"

"Yes, I do."

"Why?"

Jameson shifted, "I want you to be Starfleet's representative in the presence of the Klingons."

Clayborne shook his head, "After all I've done for you over the years, you still don't trust me? Level with me."

"Ambassador Mamet has a lot of equipment to carry."

"So, I'm a porter now? Senator, what is the reason?"

Jameson looked him in the eye, "There are two shipping containers that he does not want scanned. They are large enough that they cannot be beamed down, but that will not make any difference, they will be shielded in any case."

Clayborne looked out on the marsh in front of them, and did not even see a duck fly overhead, he was thinking too hard. "Senator, how do I justify those orders?"

"The diplomatic service will have them sealed. You are just carrying that order out. Nothing more. Just do not let anyone scan the interior." Jameson was beginning to think Clayborne would not do it.

Clayborne said, "There will be questions."

"Deflect them. Don't answer them. You are just accompanying them to make sure the seals are not broken until delivery. This will be very lucrative for you."

"I've never taken a bribe from you."

"I'm not talking bribe. We both know that I want you as next Chief of Starfleet. What do you want to do after that? Have you thought of life in the civilian circles? No limit on pay there."

"Sir…."

"We are not talking numbers, Harry. I just want you to follow the diplomatic corps wishes of those containers being sealed. Nothing more."

"What is in the containers?" Clayborne knew it was a mistake as soon as he asked it.
"Harry, you do not want to know. And you know that. Will you do it?"

Clayborne thought a long time, then nodded his head in the affirmative. Jameson asked, "How will you do it?"

Clayborne said flatly, "I'll lowball it. We ship medicines and medical equipment that are sensitive to various scanning techniques. I'll slap the appropriate medical sticker on the side right by the diplomatic seal. There won't be any questions."

Jameson asked, "Are you sure?"

Clayborne said, "Senator, you have me to exercise my experience and good judgement. This is the way to get whatever you are really shipping there without anyone snooping around. Trust me, I know what I am doing. I also know exactly who I can have to transport the Ambassador and I out to Maghreb."

BRIEFING ROOM

USS EXCALIBUR

Captain Hank Jackson and his First Officer, Paul Morrow had just finished interviewing another candidate for Chief of Security. The interviews had run well, but so far, no standouts. Jackson sat the pad down on the desk and asked, "What do you think?"

Morrow replied in his royal English accent, "Another fine officer. Similar to the others. All products of Starfleet Security protocols of the last ten years. None of them would have prepared our crew for the Klingon attack."

Jackson nodded and looked at the pads all over the table. Each pad was dedicated to one candidate, their interview notes, their service records, background checks, etc. Jackson said, "We still have one more, right?"

Morrow nodded and said, "Lieutenant William Maxwell. He is waiting outside."

Jackson was stacking the pads in order and pulled out Maxwell's pad. "Send him in." Morrow pushed a button and gave an order.

In stepped a tall, fit, young man that was already showing a touch of grey in his hair. Actually, it was silver and gave him a distinguished look. Jackson read the short description. Human, twenty-seven, top of his class at the academy, the list went on. Maxwell stepped up and stood at attention, "Lt. William Maxwell, reporting as ordered sir."

Jackson said, "Have a seat, Lieutenant. Thank you for coming. First, I have to say I am amazed that you applied."

Maxwell said, "Sir?"

Jackson explained, "That a Lieutenant applied for Chief of Security for the Federation's only battleship in existence."

Maxwell explained, "When the posting went out, it did not specify a minimum rank. It only listed a minimum set of qualifications, and I meet them. All of them."

Morrow interjected, "Yes, and barely on most of them. It would help if you had more experience."

Maxwell was fighting off being defensive, he stood his ground. "Sir, if I may. There was a posting that I desired. I met the minimum requirements, so I applied."

Jackson shook his head, "I'm actually surprised by the audacity at the application. Why would a Lieutenant apply for a senior position like this?"

Maxwell asked, "If I may sir, how many of the others are there?"

Jackson picked up a pad listing the overview of the others, "Twelve in all. Five Lt. Commanders, Six Commanders, and one of Captain Rank. Three have been Chief-of-Security of Starships, one was Chief of Security of Starbase 3, that was the Captain. Two have taught tactics at the academy. And there is you."

Maxwell was thinking quickly. He was not going to win this assignment on his resume, but his personality. There was something his dad had told him a long time ago, if they interview you, you meet the requirements. They are wanting to see what is not on the resume, they want to see your personality. "As you say sir, here am I. So why did you call me for an interview? If I was so abysmally poor in qualifications, you never would have called me."

Jackson said, "I had to see who would be so audacious as to apply for this posting. I see you were top of your class. What did you specialize in?"

Maxwell said, "Improvised weapons and ancient weapons."

Morrow asked, "What kinds of improvised weapons?"

Maxwell explained, "Weapons used in hand-to-hand. Basically, it is how to use anything as a weapon. We were taught how to evaluate our immediate environment quickly and assess the quickest way to kill the nearest threat."

Morrow looked at the pad, "What about ancient weapons? What kinds of weapons?"

Maxwell said, "Slingshots, projectile weapons, traps, knives, spears, all sorts."

Jackson asked, "What was your favorite?"

Maxwell tried to suppress a smile, "Firearms."

Morrow and Jackson traded a glance, this may be the man after all. Jackson decided to play it cool. "Firearms, what are they?"

Maxwell motioned to his pad, "If I may? They are the size of phasers, use a chemical reaction to propel a projectile at high speed. There is smoke, fire, recoil involved. It demands one to be focused to use, yet you need to keep aware of your surroundings. Here is a video of one of my weapons."

The video showed Maxwell outside somewhere shooting a pistol, when he turned around, he had a huge smile on his face. The target showed a nice grouping of shots. Jackson did not want to show his approval yet. "It sounds archaic. The video shows you shooting that weapon, where did you get it?"

Maxwell said, "I made it. I was doing this years before the academy."

Jackson asked, "Really, tell me something else I don't know."

Maxwell thought quickly. He did not know how much to tell, and finally thought he had nothing to lose. If this was the ship for him, then they would need to appreciate what he could bring to the table. "My Dad was in the Starfleet Marines before they disbanded them. He raised me on 'weaponology'. He taught me how to manufacture and use all sorts of weapons. If you choose me, I can bring this lost art to your ship."

Jackson looked at Morrow, who gave a curt nod. Jackson looked around the room, most rooms on board ship were sparsely decorated, starships were still relatively Spartan in accommodations. This seemed like an opportune time to test Maxwell's claims. "Mr. Maxwell. First, I want you to look at my eyes and not around this room. I would like a demonstration of what you call 'improvised weapons."

Maxwell said evenly, "What do you propose, sir?"

"Can you give me a demonstration?"

Maxwell smiled a smile that had no humor behind it, Jackson had seen that look before. Some people smiled when they were thinking deeply or quickly, not because they found something humorous. Maxwell said slowly and kept looking at Jackson's eyes, "Well sir, frequently when an object is improvised, it will not be able to be used for its primary use. Also, how violent do you want this to be?" Maxwell did not blink an eye and did not let his eyes wander.

A chill came over Jackson, he suddenly felt he was in the presence of a very dangerous man, something he had not had from the other candidates. Jackson chose his words carefully, "There is a lightstand twelve feet to the right of you at the end of this table, I want you to use an improvised ranged weapon and hit it at the head of the lamp. Then I want you to improvise a weapon to use against me, but do not touch either me or Commander Morrow. Start now."

Quick as a flash, Maxwell leaped up and grabbed the plastic bag lining the trashcan, he pulled it up and with his other hand swiped the two coffee cups into the bag. As the bag came free of the garbage can, he whipped it around like a sling and released it at just the right time for it to sail through the air hitting the lamp with a loud crashing sound and destroying it.

Maxwell continued his turn and grabbed one of the pads, flipped it upside down, and smashed it on the table. What was left was a large, triangular, jagged piece that was attached to the portion Maxwell was holding and he thrust it toward the Captain stopping just an inch from his neck. Jackson instinctively leaned back but the jagged piece stayed just off his neck. Jackson said, "Exercise complete." Maxwell sat back down and laid the piece on the table.

Morrow was the first to ask, "You were fortunate that the pad broke that way. Would it have cut the neck?"

Maxwell had that same humorless smile as he explained himself slowly, "Yes, and more. If the scenario was actual combat, I would have never stopped and cut the Captain's Carotid Artery. No surgeon in the galaxy could prevent him from dying in the next thirty seconds. That pad will always break that way because the battery is very hard and triangular. Heat from the battery also causes the plastic to become very hard and if you notice the edge is very sharp."

Jackson looked and saw that indeed, the shard that remained was very sharp. It also had the advantage of being attached to what was left of the casing, making a nice handle for the improvised knife. Jackson handed the 'knife' off to Morrow, who looked at it then asked a question, "This is all very well, but as Chief-of-Security, you oversee the security of the ship. Will you be able to train our replacement security staff with these techniques? Will you be able to lead the staff into the future?"

Maxwell's smile changed subtly from humorless to one full of anticipation, almost a child-like glee. "Absolutely, if you guys support me. I need to be able to choose and train my officers and chiefs. After that, the rest will fall in line."

Jackson could see that this man had vision. "Do you know who you would choose?"

Maxwell's smile broadened. He reached for his pad and tapped it a few times bringing up the list. "Absolutely, this is my dream team for the officers." He pushed it across the desk.

Jackson handed the pad to Morrow, then took one of the undamaged pads and tapped it a few times, "Mr. Morrow will take a look at your names, in the meantime I want you to watch something."

Jackson tapped a pad and pushed it over to Maxwell. "What you are about to see is classified. It is not to be discussed outside this room. This ship recently was in an unprovoked attack with the Klingons and we were boarded twice. This is from the engine room recorder and it skips as we were under a stasis type weapon periodically. I want your security assessment."

Maxwell watched the recordings. It started off with the ship clearly under red alert and the main doors to engineering being blown in. Klingons charged in with Bath'leths and started swinging them slashing and stabbing officers nearby. It was clear that some officers had already given up use in the phasers and were trying to grapple hand-to-hand. It was a slaughter. The image changed to the Starboard engine room, back to where the temporary bridge was set up. Again, an attack and one could see the Badgers in the distance fighting off Klingons with rifles. Then suddenly the Klingons came from the warp conduit overhead. The recording showed Octavian killing four with his pistol then stabbing the last with his combat knife. Jackson asked, "Your assessment, Lieutenant?"

Maxwell looked at them. He did not realize what had happened to the ship, it was classified. He now could see why they needed a whole new security contingent. Maxwell started in, "You were hit with the Klingon stasis weapon, rendering phasers inoperable. Your security staff was not trained very well. They gave up on the phasers too quickly. Never throw a weapon away. They also were not prepared for hand-to-hand combat."

Morrow said, "Starfleet security trains hand-to-hand."

Maxwell shook his head, "There's hand to hand, then there is fighting hand-to-hand with Klingons. They obviously were not ready for that."

Morrow said, "Go on."

Maxwell continued, "As you said, the recordings were of two attacks. The first was the takedown and the second was a rescue, and the rescuing ship was the Wisconsin. Those men dressed in black were from that ship. I tried to join that ship."

Jackson asked, "Why weren't you chosen?"

Maxwell said, "My Captain did not want to let me go. I just finished my tour with him, and am ready to step out on my own. Also," he decided to play his trump card, "I know this man here, in the forefront. It is Pastor Ian Octavian, Starfleet Marine."

Jackson asked, "How do you know him?"

"I went to his Church while going through the Academy."

Jackson looked to Morrow, who was smiling uncontrollably. Jackson stood up and the others followed suit. He extended his hand and Maxwell shook it. "Mr. Maxwell, welcome aboard the Excalibur. Congratulations on being my new Chief-of-Security."

TRANSPORTER ROOM 1

USS WISCONSIN

Santini and Jacobs were talking with transporter chief Frye. Frye had the transporter console opened to reveal the guts of the complicated machine. Santini explained, "Captain, this was Chief Frye's idea, and we're going to try it out next time we're in orbit around a planet."

Jacobs was trying to follow the explanation along, "So the big improvement in the targeting sensor lock is you do not lock? I still don't understand."

Frye showed the module she was attaching, "This module allows a transporter lock to float in a feedback loop. We can not only keep a lock on moving objects, which we could before, but on objects that are doing simple accelerations."

"I may not know how it locks Miss Frye, but what do you mean 'simple' accelerations?"

"Accelerations that can be simply described by a constant. Turns, ideal rocket accelerations, that sort of thing."

Jacobs nodded, "I get the picture, something like a rock falling?"

Santini interceded, "Sort of, if the rock was falling in a vacuum."

"When do you guys want to test it out?

Frye looked to Santini who nodded. Frye answered, "I'll be ready in about six hours. The first test sir I'd like to do is catching objects falling toward an airless moon."

Jacobs nodded, "Consider it done, the system we are heading for should have plenty of moons. Dom, let me know the specifics as we get closer and I'll task Mr. Agathon to find something that fits."

Santini nodded, "Aye aye sir."

Jacobs turned and headed out the door, "It'll be interesting on how this improvement works!"

Jacobs was walking to the turbolift when he heard Bauer's voice call, "Captain?"

Jacobs turned to see Bauer trotting up. Bauer was wearing the standard Badger shipboard duty uniform, all in black combat fatigues with phaser pistol in holster and firearm pistol strapped on his chest. Jacobs stopped and asked, "What's up Jack?"

When Bauer reached him, he asked, "Do you have a minute?"

Jacobs nodded, "Yes. Everything ok?"

"Yes, I just wanted to put a request for Badger training."

Jacobs nodded, "What is it?"

"That system we're going to, I'd like some time for training on a class M planet."

Jacobs turned and started walking, Bauer following, "Let me check quickly, I think the original telescope survey had one. What are you planning?"

They reached a maintenance alcove that had a computer terminal. Jacobs logged in and started going through the information on system SQC-122. Bauer started in, "Well sir, the training has progressed well. Each of the department heads are pleased on how their candidate has done graduate-level work in their area. Ducky is happy with how Doc Blake is doing on battlefield medicine, Dom is pleased with Mr. Black's ability to adapt to strange machinery, and you would know better about TC's progress."

"Alan and I are pleased with his flying. I would take him into combat in a Raptor in the old days back during the first Klingon war."

Bauer nodded, "That's good. I have talked about this with my Lieutenants and all of them are qualified in weaponry and tactics as any Badger. It has been a long, few months, but I think we're almost ready for the graduation test."

Jacobs asked, "What do you need?"

"For Hell week, the main thing is exhaustion and sleep deprivation. I need them softened up with that before the final big swim. An M class planet with enough water to do a one-mile swim to shore. An ocean would be preferable, but if it is not, we can properly handicap them."

Jacobs was looking at the charts on the computer. "It looks promising. One of the reasons why we are checking out SQC-122 is that the Federation does not have good observation data on it. The system has some gas giants and some smaller planets that would be the right size. As we get closer, we'll be able to see if they are class M or not."

Bauer said, "Thank you sir."

Jacobs tapped a reminder then logged off the terminal. "Glad to accommodate. See you for dinner tonight?"

"I'll be there, who's the victim?"

"Mr. Billy Cloud is who the computer selected. Since he is enlisted, I thought it best to have his officer with him."

Bauer chuckled, "Be ready for his dinnertime conversation."

"Not a big talker?" Jacobs asked.

"For me it's tough to get more out of him than one-word sentences."

Jacobs smiled, "We could be the victims. Well, it is all for morale."

Bauer said, "The crew appreciates it. I think Mr. Cloud will appreciate it, even though if he does not show it."

TRANSPORTER ROOM 7

STARBASE 5 OPERATIONS

The transport cycle completed and the inbound crew transferees from the USS Taiwan stepped off the platform. The inbound Starfleet personnel were greeted by Commander Williard, "Welcome to Starbase 5, if you will follow the Ensign, he will set you up with quarters until transportation to your respective ships are ready to take you."

The group followed the Ensign out the door. Ensign Pete Mitchell looked around dryly at the personnel. Everyone here was stuck on land duty. He was in Helm, which by nature would be in space. Looking at the Commander, he could see that his colors were in command, but the guy was just a pencil-pusher now.

Commander Williard picked up on Mitchell's attitude right away. "Ensign, you're….?"

Mitchell responded, "Ensign Pete Mitchell, heading for the Wisconsin."

Williard asked, "Do you have a problem, Mr. Mitchell?"

Mitchell shook his head, "No sir."

Williard looked at his datapad, "You will be bunking in the junior officer's quarters. Your roommate is already here heading for the Wisconsin as well."

Mitchell asked, "Who is it sir?"

Williard said, "Ensign Edward Pell."

Mitchell remembered Pell clearly. A goofball, spoke with a strange word formation. He was in Helm as well, fancied himself a good pilot but of course Mitchell was better. Pell also was into infantry stuff as well. He should have been a mud marine, but of course they didn't exist as well. Mitchell nodded.

Williard pressed, "Ensign, I want to know what your problem is."

Mitchell straightened himself, "No problem, sir, happy to be here, looking forward to being at my assignment."

Williard nodded slowly, "Good, until then, make your way and get settled in your quarters. You leave in a week on the Excalibur to join up with the Wisconsin. Report to flight ops tomorrow at 0700 for assignments in the meantime."

Mitchell had a quizzical look with just a hint of a sneer? "Tomorrow?"

Williard said, "You do not think we would pass up the opportunity to use some extra personnel around here? This is not a vacation for you, and we are shorthanded."

Mitchell bit his lip. "Aye aye sir."

Williard said, "Dismissed."

Mitchell turned himself and went out the door. Great, another senior officer up on himself. There was no reason for extra duty, but he will play nice with others.