Joe Manning

The FAQ has been updated with links to our new website at http://qobtranquility.cz.cc

Thanks to the painstaking efforts of our own Samantha Kent, Qob: Tranquility now has a niche on the world wide web:

 

http://qobtranquility.cz.cc/

 

Much more information on the new game is available there. Give it a browse, and make sure to give Kent a pat on the back for her efforts. <_<

Agreed, Kansas. Sometimes Trek is a bit too 'clean,' since it mostly conforms to Roddenberry's ideal of a 'perfect' society in the future. The storytelling can work perfectly well in that regard, but there's a lot that's left unexplored. We're going to be looking at an alternative view of the future -- what if the society isn't so 'perfect.' It's the sort of thing DS9 was going into during its best times (to borrow from another discussion on the boards), so in addition to incorporating Firefly-esque themes we'll be continuing the trend set out in DS9.

 

A lot of people do prefer Roddenberry's view of things. But that's what's great about STSF -- options for everyone. <_<

Edger's Guide to ...

 

THE FEDERATION

 

by Malcolm "Razor" Edger

 

 

PREFACE

 

Here I am, again, kiddies. Your favorite trader/mercenary, coming up on his eighth year of plying the star lanes of Bull's Head, has come to your airlock with another of his invaluable (and best-selling) treatise on life in the untamed stellar frontier. This volume is a special one, however. You starry-eyed wanderers of the galactic rim have been begging ol' Razor Edger to finally give you his rundown on the topic of all topics -- the Federation. That's right, kiddies! Our friendly neighbors on the coreward end of our little arm of the Milky Way are the shining stars of this, my newest masterpiece of light (speed) reading.

 

What do you know about the Federation? If you've listened to some people, you're probably thinking that the Federation are the bad guys. They're the big bullies that have pushed us all to the dirtiest, emptiest corner of the playground. Well, that's just a bunch of plaQta', I can tell you. Yours truly has run across a few Starfleet patrols in his time, my humble followers. There were some good sorts on their ships, and there were some bad sorts -- no different from the ships of Bull's Head. And when I treated them with respect and modesty, I got good treatment in return.

 

There are too many space cowboys in Bull's Head. I know, I used to be one myself! So I get quite the chuckle when one of these space faring qoHpu' crosses paths with a Starfleet patrol and decides to play the big rebel who isn't going to stand for Feddie oppression. It ain't so funny for them when they get hauled into custody or, worse, their ship blown to bits. So many tragedies could be avoided if people would just learn that there's no cause for hostilities between the travelers of Bull's Head and the soldiers of the Federation. Hells, the Federation still thinks Bull's Head is just one of their provinces!

 

So allow me to enlighten you, brash young things, on the 'nature of the beast,' so to speak. As long as you keep this little PADD tucked underneath your little Captain's seats, your encounters with Starfleet should never end badly. We'll start with some of the basic background, a little bit of the history, and a rough idea of just why things are ... the way they are.

 

 

CHAPTER 1

The Headies and Feddies

 

What, precisely, is the relationship between Bull's Head and the Federation? Tenuous, of course. There are a lot of folks on our side that don't care for them, and a lot of folks on their side that don't care for us. We aren't at war with the Federation (thank the gods for that), but nor are we one unified entity. And we don't care much for all of their policies or fly their flag over our homes, but we do follow their rules. Why is it this way? Recent history will show us the way.

 

It's been six years now since the 'battle' of Zencar IV, the site of The Decision that ended the Civil War. Eight years of infighting depleted a fleet that had already been ravaged by the Beholder invasion of 2390. In those years, the tides changed within the Federation, with military leaders who cared more about defense and security slowly taking the policymaking away from the Federation Council. Those leaders reached an unsettling conclusion -- there just weren't enough ships left to properly secure the whole of the Federation territories. So, not long after the end of the War, the Federation pulled in some of its farthest borders.

 

Turned out that decision wasn't as clear cut as it seemed. They pull in their borders, territories like Bull's Head go independent, right? Wrong. While the Feddies withdrew the bulk of their personnel from those outlying territories, they still considered those territories to be under their jurisdiction. They did (and still do) consider the colonies of Bull's Head to be their colonies. Hu'tegh, ey? Quite a dilemma for them -- they want control over all their distant colonies, but they know that they can't maintain that control without stretching their defenses too thin.

 

End result? The outlying colonies get to do pretty much what they'd like. And in the old days, 'what they'd like' translated to not doing what the Feddies told them to do. No citizens being drafted to fight in wars on the other end of the galaxy for causes they didn't believe in. No labor projects meant to promote the 'greater good' of the Federation being forced on them. No having to share all the details of their operations with bureaucrats back on Earth who had no idea what life on the fringe was like. They viewed the Feddie withdrawal as a sign that they were independent, and independence was exactly what they wanted.

 

Can the Federation dispute our independence? They certainly have the resources to. But pledging those resources toward a conflict with errant colonies would involve diverting those resources from the ultimate goal of keeping their tightened-up borders nice and secure. So there is an unsteady truce of sorts between the Feddies and the outlying territories. They allow us a certain degree of liberty from their policies. Don't let some anti-Federation jingoist tell you otherwise! We get to play the interstellar game our own way only because the Feddies choose to keep their blasters pointed elsewhere for now.

 

Ah, but here's where things get tenuous, see? The independence the Feddies have so compassionately gifted us with comes with a price. They don't want us getting SO independent that we suddenly decide it's a good idea to go fighting them or (far worse) aiding other interstellar powers like the Rommies and Klingons. So, to keep their ultimate decree from falling upon our worlds, we got to follow a few of their rules. Quite simple really. There are things they'll allow us to do and things they won't allow us to do. And if they ever catch us doing the things we aren't allowed to do, they'll start bringing more trouble down on us.

 

This is where you got to pay attention, mate.

 

There ain't nothing forbidding a Starfleet ship from coming to Bull's Head. Same way there ain't nothing preventing our ships from entering Federation space. No matter which way it goes, one thing remains true -- their ships are a lot bigger and a lot more dangerous than our ships. And when they see one of our ships, they decide it's time for an inspection. Bull's Head's ships, outposts, and colonies are routinely subjected to Starfleet inspections to determine whether any of their rules are being broken. Their rule over our territory may be barely recognizable, but they figure that the size and firepower of their ships is enough to scare us into obeying their laws, and it's very difficult to argue with them. You've got to know what their rules are, mate, and you've got to know how to behave when one of their inspections comes.

 

What's the alternative to their laws? Acknowledging that we're Federation citizens. If we were to recognize their claim on Bull's Head, we would be allowed to use their best technology without any restrictions. But that would come with a price we're NOT willing to pay. You see, if we recognize their authority, they send officials to manage all of our colonies and outposts, and they assign Starfleet officers to our ships. Nothing would go on in Bull's Head that they wouldn't be aware of. And all of our resources (including our precious interstellar chariots) would be at their disposal. If we accept that, we lose our freedom and become nothing more than distant cogs in the Federation machine.

 

So it all hangs in a delicate balance that neither side is too keen on tipping. How much can they lord over our affairs without compromising the security of their core territories? How much can we get away with without drawing more of their attention than we'd like? Their paranoia and our survival instinct works together to keep a steady level of peace and understanding between us, and we can all live with that, can't we? So do us all a favor when you cross their paths -- don't upset the zilm'kach cart.

 

 

CHAPTER 2

Fed Law

 

Rule #1 -- No conspiring against the Federation. This one is pretty easy, ain't it? No plotting to assault Federation assets, depose Federation officials, incite Federation citizens to riot and rebel, and other such harmful activities. O' course, there ain't much the Feddies can do if such plans exist only in the minds of the conspirators. But eventually, such conspiracies yield tangible evidence -- gatherings of conspirators that draw unwanted attention, data devices with sensitive plans that fall into the wrong hands, stockpiles of illegal weapons and goods that are located by authorities. When Starfleet tracks a conspiracy back to Bull's Head, all our colonies start feeling the heat. And we don't want the heat! So take your conspiracies up to the Union of Nine.

 

Rule #2 -- No violence against the Federation. As bad as violating #1 is, this one is worse. It's the worst offense you can commit, in fact. Attacking a Fleet ship, hurting a Fleet officer, causing damage to a Federation facility or settlement, or aiding any such activity by a third party. Channel your rage elsewhere, juppy.

 

Rule #3 -- No possession of uncertified personal weaponry. Knowing how dangerous the galaxy can be, the Feddies have found it in their hearts to let us defend ourselves. To an extent, of course. Any personal weapons we possess must have been acquired either from the Federation or through fair trade with the Klingons. In other words, we can't manufacture our own weapons. Furthermore, all personal weapons we possess must have lethal capabilities completely removed. That's right. We can't just keep our weapons on 'stun' ... we have to remove 'kill' entirely. The majority of arrests on inspected vessels are owed to weapons with kill capabilities that the owners made poor attempts to conceal.

 

Rule #4 -- All starships must meet allowed specifications. No combat-capable ship's mass may exceed 100,000 tons, effectively preventing us from fielding warships larger than scouts and light cruisers; unarmed freighters and liners don't face this restriction. No ship's armament may be designed to serve anything more than 'defensive capabilities.' What, precisely, 'defensive capabilities' entails is entirely up to the discretion of the inspecting officer, but if you're fielding enough phaser arrays and torpedo launchers to turn a colony to dust, don't expect a passing grade. Most of our ships won't be capable of those kinds of armaments anyway what with the mass restrictions. No ship's engines may be capable of exceeding Warp 8. Again, mass restrictions (to say nothing of dilithium scarcity) limit our starship speeds anyway, but they want the limit enforced -- makes sure their heavy cruisers can catch up with any ship that tries to run away, you see. And, oh, one last thing (you may want to pay attention to this one) -- any ship deemed to be housing a 'concealed cargo hold' will be subject to immediate inspection failure, even if said holds are empty at the time of inspection.

 

Rule #5 -- Replication technology is forbidden. This is the touchy one. This is the one that has incited a lot of folks' fury. You see, the Federation considers matter replication to be one of their greatest technological innovations ... and such things are -only- to be shared with compliant Federation worlds. They don't want that innovation being used to mass-manufacture implements of war that could be used to assault their worlds or fuel insurgency among their citizenry. That's their official explanation, at least. A lot of people think that's a bunch of plaQta', an excuse to make survival more difficult for people that don't play ball with the Feddies. Hells, we've all heard the stories of how the Federation has used their replicators to buy off worlds that were suffering starvation epidemics. Maybe they're true, maybe not ... but replicators are one of the 'perks' of membership that the Federation has promised. We've come a long way from the day when scientific discovery was open source.

 

Rule #6 -- Transporter technology is forbidden aboard starships. Transporters are dangerous, you see. Feddies drop their shields to send an inspection squad over to your vehicle, there's no telling what kind of nasty stuff you can send right back over to their ships. They allow us to use transporters on our colonies and space stations, but if they find a transporter device on your ship, immediate inspection failure. Most colonies (all of the major ones) have at least one orbital docking station that can transport you to the planet's surface. Some are bigger, some are smaller, so depending on the traffic you may be forced to wait. And if you plan to touch down on any unsettled worlds (or any of the colonies that don't want visitors), you'd better have either a shuttle or a ship that can land.

 

Rule #7 -- No contact of any sort with races deemed hostile by the Federation. With the Feddies in a sort of 'rebuilding mode' right now, this is a short list. The Borg and the Beholders are about it, in fact. They're keeping an uneasy peace with all the major powers of the Alpha and Beta quadrants while they recover from the war and fortify their defenses. Nobody likes that the Feddies have turned militant, though; you always hear rumors that the Rommies have been trying to exploit the Feddies' weakened position since the start of the war, and that only the losses they themselves suffered during the Beholder attack have kept them in check. Just know that should war break out, the Feddies don't want us aiding any of their enemies.

 

Rule #8 -- No alcoholic beverages may be brought into the Parnassus system. Truth is, nobody really knows the reason for this one; supposedly goes back to an incident 15 years ago. But the rule's on their list and it's easy enough to follow.

 

Rule #9 -- Theft of Federation property or kidnap of Federation citizens is strictly prohibited. We can mug, burgle, and kidnap each other to our black hearts' content; we just need to be careful that what (or whom) we're stealing don't have any ties to anyone in the Federation. This one can get tricky. It may seem enticing enough, for example, to hold up that fellow with the rich-looking necklace in an alleyway on Tranquility, but he might just be a visitor from one of the Federation worlds. If you were to be so inclined to hold the juppy up (not that you would, that sort of thing being illegal on Tranquility), you might find the offense passing from the Taurus brothers' jurisdiction to Federation jurisdiction. Not only is that bad for you, it brings unwanted heat on Bull's Head. Do your research before you take that which does not belong to you.

 

Rule #10 -- Do not attempt to avert or interfere with any Starfleet inspection or investigation into the violation of any of these rules. The Feddies have handed down their laws, and they've given their police force the power to enforce them. If the Fleeters come for you, don't run. If they come for someone else and find cause to question you, don't lie. If said 'someone else' comes to you for help, don't give it. And, whatever you do, don't forget the all-important Rule #2.

 

 

CHAPTER 3

Smile For Your Inspector

 

So it should just so happen (wouldn't luck have it) that your space vessel is nearly identical to one that was witnessed visiting mayhem upon a Federation colony, then sailing away with several of its women and goods. You pop up (wouldn't luck continue to have it) on the sensors of one of the Starfleet cruisers that are searching for the fun-loving assailants. A short time later, your own sensors show a very large object moving toward your ship at an incredible speed, and an audio message is blurting into your ears demanding that you power down your engines. Hate to be the one to tell you, juppy, but you've been tagged for inspection.

 

Never fear, Razor Edger is here to get you through one of the greatest trials of life in Bull's Head.

 

ALERT: THE TAURUS BROTHERS IN ASSOCIATION WITH THE HYADES TOURISM BUREAU HAVE DETERMINED THAT THE ADVICE OFFERED BY THE REMAINDER OF THIS GUIDE IS NOT ENTIRELY CONDUCIVE TO A POSITIVE RELATIONSHIP WITH STARFLEET AND THE FEDERATION; IT HAS BEEN REMOVED FROM THIS COPY. RESIDENTS AND TRAVELERS OF BULL'S HEAD ARE STRONGLY ADVISED TO COOPERATE FULLY WITH ANY FEDERATION PATROLS ENCOUNTERED. RESIDENTS AND TRAVELERS ENGAGING IN ACTIVITIES THAT WOULD BE DEEMED UNLAWFUL BY FEDERATION PATROLS ARE ADVISED TO DEPART BULL'S HEAD AT ONCE. OUTSIDERS INTENDING TO BRING SUCH ACTIVITIES TO BULL'S HEAD ARE NOT WELCOME.

WELCOME, interstellar traveller, to the HYADES cluster!

Last bastion of FREEDOM in the Alpha Quadrant!

 

Locals call Hyades the Bull's Head. It was first explored by our friendly Federation neighbors in the 2230's, and the first colony was established in 2258. But being a true survivor in these times of bleak outlook and a scheming opportunist in these times of personal potential you don't care about history, do you? You want to know about the Bull's Head of the present -- the sights to see, the people to meet, the places to visit, and the best ways to make some LATINUM!

 

TRUTH: Bull's Head is the single greatest refuge for disgruntled persons looking for a new way of life outside the Federation's tyrannical yoke! You may have heard of the so-called Union of Nine based in Bajoran space, but as bringers of truth we are here to inform you that their fanatical Prophet worship is but a thinly veiled disguise for the most CUTTHROAT criminal operation this side of the Orion Syndicate. Tainted by the worst variety of Ferengi greed and Cardassian corruption, the 'Union' has nothing to offer refugees but pain and loss! Bull's Head is FREEDOM, Bull's Head is unity of spirit and purpose, and Bull's Head is the opportunity for financial gain which is the right of every sentient man and woman. All without the slaving, piracy, narcotic mind control and myriad of other despicable devices which the new Bajoran regime uses to exploit the beleaguered outcasts of an unforgiving Federation society.

 

Being an intelligent man or woman of means, you're sure to be asking -- who is responsible for this? Who keeps the PEACE in Bull's Head? Who runs the show?

 

The PEOPLE! Who else? Democracy is the ideal that the Federation was founded upon, and now the Bull's Head commonwealth is preserving that ideal, even as the neatly-uniformed dictators on Earth and Andor crack down on 'unsafe' concepts like freedom and sovereignty. The people keep the colonies of Bull's Head running. They keep the trade routes open and moving. They pay the bills of thousands of families. They crew the starships that keep our space secure from pillagers (foreign AND domestic). They answer to no one but each other and the tenets of decency and common sense that bind us all despite the efforts of tyrants to keep us all apart.

 

Lest we be accused of deception, let it be known now that Bull's Head, like any good society, does have a heart. Last century, the TRUE Federation called it Theta Tauri II. But that's no good name for the unofficial capitol of FREEDOM, now is it? So now we call it Tranquility, the oldest and the biggest colony in the Hyades cluster. There isn't a citizen of Bull's Head that hasn't made his way through Tranquility City at one time or another. The possibilities for residence, commerce, employment, transportation, and entertainment in Bull's Head's only true metropolis are limitless.

 

The city is unofficially managed by the three TAURUS brothers. Some say they have connections with all the big players in Bull's Head. Some say (nonsensically, of course) that they're secretely organizing efforts to overthrow the Federation. Some say 'Taurus' is not even their real family name. Some say one of the brothers is really a sister! The myths and mysteries surrounding the trio are ample testament to the influence they enjoy in Bull's Head and the spirit of advancement that our society encourages like no other. Play your cards right in Bull's Head and YOU can become a Taurus brother ... in a manner of speaking.

 

Among the many important landmarks to be found in Tranquility City is the headquarters of The GUARDIANS, unofficial keepers of the peace in Bull's Head. This loose band of mercenaries has access to the largest fleet of ships and the biggest cache of non-prohibited defense technology in the cluster. They charge a fee for personal security or trade escorts, but they're also amply funded by the Taurus brothers to investigate and neutralize threats to Bull's Head society at large. You don't have to pay the Guardians to protect you from the pirates, the Gorn, and the other assorted madmen of the outer regions; the Taurus family already has you covered!

 

TRUTH: Any man or woman with the proper skills to offer can seek the Guardians for employment, long term or short term. It doesn't matter if you can handle a gun or cook an omelette -- the Guardians can find a place for you on one of their ships or outposts. Engineers and doctors, being in particularly short supply, are highly valued. Even if you have valuable information that could aide in the capture of disruptors of the peace, the Guardians can pay you. Just stop in to your local Guardian recruitment office, spread throughout Bull's Head and outlying settlements.

 

The markets of Tranquility City are the hub of TRADE in Bull's Head. Anything from food to fuel to personal security can be acquired at Tranquility, with any number of more 'exotic' goods and services available at outlying colonies. Latinum is the standard monetary unit, though barter is generally accepted and the banks of Bull's Head support a highly secure electronic credit system. BE ADVISED that there is no centralized economic system, each individual colony being allowed to handle trade as it sees fit! The savvy trader is sure to carry cash, credit, AND goods to meet the needs of any trade partner!

 

But where do you get all those resources? There's a saying in Bull's Head that there's always someone somewhere looking to pay you for something. Gainful employment is the greatest friend of the Bull's Head traveller. Resources like food, starship fuel, medicine, and weaponry are valued commodities that only an elite few possess in large supply. The needs of these wealthy movers and shakers of our society often require the services of bold and resourceful starship travellers willing to face risk and danger for OPPORTUNITY. Imagine indebting the Vulcans and Bynars of the renowned Xorax colony science labs to you by recovering alien technologies from the outer regions! Imagine protecting sensitive shipments from the pastures and hydroponics gardens of Gaia Prime and securing a deal that could keep you fed for a year! And if you're willing to get your hands dirty (within the bounds of the Taurus brothers' tolerance), the casino bosses on Vega colony are known to offer some of the most lucrative deals.

 

FACTS: There are 17 planets and 4 moons currently known to be inhabited within the Hyades cluster's tidal boundary. Contact is maintained with 8 colonies and settlements in the outer regions within 60 light years of the boundary. These 29 settlements together with the Andus city-station currently comprise the Bull's Head commonwealth. The Guardians are known to make regular travel between six major border outposts and space stations, though it is rumored that more are operated in secret. The Guardians claim that their emblem is painted on 44 starships. It is difficult to guess how many freelance starships (not counting assorted hostiles) ply the spaceroutes of Bull's Head, but estimates place their number around 70.

 

There is no shortage of settlements in the Hyades cluster for travellers who have seen enough of Tranquility City (and that could take decades). If you haven't a ship capable of high Warp speeds, you can always book a seat on one of the passenger liners that regularly disembark from Tranquility City. If you're in a hurry (and would by comforted by a little extra security), you might even be able to pay for passage aboard a Guardian cruiser.

 

Hushed whispers make reference to the Andorian city-station in the ANDUS asteroid field, said to house a clandestine weapons manufacturing and smuggling operation. Many wonder at their allegiances, but the Taurus brothers have gotten ample assurance that the displaced Andorians have no ties to their brethren in Federation space. Andus station is the place to go if you're wealthy, you're looking to acquire advanced weapons technologies, and you don't believe the Andorians when they say they would never do anything that the Feddies would disapprove of.

 

If the gaming on Vega isn't up your alley, the sea-sprayed beaches and scenic cruise lines of NEW RISA ISLAND provide the hottest vacation locale in Bull's Head. The tiny isle is the only land mass on sea-covered New Risa, and the real estate is owned by Hetta Ser'vya (rumored to be an escaped Orion slave). If you want to enjoy the exquisite cuisine of her renowned staff of chefs, the company of the Old Risan natives in her employ, and the SURREAL relaxation of her massage parlors and mud baths, you'd best have plenty of cash to spend.

 

Second in size (and, perhaps, importance) only to Tranquility is the GOLDROCK mining colony, source of the commonwealth's chief export -- TRITANIUM. The shipyards of Goldrock provide maintenance and refit services to paying starship crews and can even be commissioned to build a starship for VIP (read fabulously wealthy) customers. On the rocky planet's surface, dust-swept Goldrock City houses the miners and engineers that make up some of Bull's Head's roughest and proudest citizens. They're known more for their drinking binges at the local taverns than their friendliness to outsiders, so visitors are advised to avoid sticking out. Looking over the city and the tritanium deposits of the surrounding network of canyons is the central office of the Gular Mining Consortium. Said to be composed mostly of Starfleet officers displaced during the war and original Theta Tauri II colonists, the Gular Consortium has laid claim to most of Bull's Head's natural resource deposits. They are also the chief trade partners of the Klingon Empire's DILITHIUM dealers, making Goldrock the best place to acquire the precious light speed enabler. The shipyard facilities orbit Goldrock's icy moon, site of the massive subterranean deuterium and antimatter manufacturing plants that support the starship service operations. Like Tranquility, these facililties predate the war and are well-stocked with advanced technologies. But think not that it isn't all watched closely by the Guardians, who exchange their protection for significant discounts at the shipyards.

 

FACTS: Being composed of relatively young stars, the Hyades cluster boasts very few habitable planets. Several of Bull's Head's colonies have only been made capable of supporting life through the use of terraforming and atmospheric shielding and generation (both expensive proposals, undertaken only if a planet provides a valuable resource). Explorers of the uncharted regions outside the cluster may be paid handsomely for the discovery of habitable worlds. Explorers with the means may even be inclined to set up a colony themselves, either for settlement or (if the planet possesses a quality which could draw visitors from the Hyades cluster) profit.

 

And what WONDERS might be found BEYOND the boundary of the Hyades cluster? What lies on that DARK frontier where stars are fewer and farther between? The greatest of opportunities! But also the greatest of DANGERS! The regions beyond the Hyades cluster were largely unexplored even during the glory days of the Federation, leaving worlds that have never felt the footsteps of sentient beings. If that is allure you are feeling, interstellar traveller, to claim the bounties of unspoiled worlds, you are well cautioned to go prepared. Greedy pirates, paranoid aliens, and remorseless slavers are just a few of the dangers which thrive in the regions where the Guardians' influence is spread thin.

 

Of all the outer region settlements, none is more well-known and well-travelled than ALDEBARAN, the so-called EYES OF THE BULL. Halfway between the core of the Federation and the heart of Tranquility, Aldebaran was one of the Federation's oldest colonies before their borders were pulled in during the war. It is now the outermost boundary of the Bull's Head commonwealth before one reaches the patrol lanes of the Federation Starfleet. Is is little surprise that the Aldebaran system now houses the largest Guardian outpost outside the Hyades cluster. Much like the twin stars of Aldebaran, the sensors of Aldebaran Station are always watching Federation space and reporting any suspicious activity back to the Taurus brothers and other Bull's Head VIP's. The Federation is content to ignore Bull's Head as long as no signs of military or technological buildup are demonstrated, but should (gods help us all) their stance change, Aldebaran would be our first line of defense.

 

In the days before the war, when the colony was a more quiet and relaxed place, Aldebaran's WHISKEY was the envy of beverage brewers across the galaxy. Now, Aldebaran's tenuous placement near the edge of Federation space has significantly slowed the export of their oddly-colored aqua vitae. This has only served to heighten its value to the drink connoisseurs of Bull's Head. Tavern owners and wealthy VIP's dish out hefty sums both to purchase whiskey from Aldebaran and to secure armed escort of incoming shipments; pirate activity along the Aldebaran-Hyades trade route has been understandably intense and notoriously elusive. The colony isn't only famous for its liquor, however. Artistic expression has thrived on Aldebaran colony since its inception, producing some of the greatest works of literature and cinema in Federation history. While much of the colony's most advanced technology has been turned over to the Federation, their renowned film school and studios continue to operate at peak efficiency. The war and the paranoia of a Federation invasion has not stifled the writers and filmmakers one bit, but only provided fodder for some of the most stirring historical and sociological pieces that the colony has ever produced. Is it the planet's breathtaking vistas, rich clean air, and remarkably unique wildlife that inspire such creativity in the colony's citizens? Or is it the whiskey? Another question for the galaxy's learned sages.

 

TRUTH: Bull's Head maintains very close relations with the Klingon Empire, our nearest non-Federation neighbors. Klingon assistance was invaluable to the first civil war refugees after the Federation's technology confiscations left the colonists without basic matter replication capability. It was not long before treaties were signed (unrecognized by the Federation of course) which reasonably divided the Federation-abandoned territories between Bull's Head and the Empire. These agreements provided the foundation for the free trade which now benefits both civilizations. Bull's Head banks provide fair exchange rates between latinum and Klingon darseks, and the local merchants are sure to stock Klingon goods for immigrants and visitors from the Empire. The free exchange has lead to an infusion of Klingon culture into Bull's Head society. Klingon sport (chiefly arena combat) has achieved great popularity, the Klingon language is learned by most businessmen for times when translation technology is unavailable, and Bloodwine is one of the more popular tavern beverages. The Klingons have made it clear that the alliance will not extend to military protection in the event that the Federation attempts to reassert control of Bull's Head space, but there is little doubt that knowledge of the alliance helps stay the Federation's fist.

 

Right along the treaty-established border between Bull's Head and the Klingon Empire is the LAKOTA colony, symbol of the alliance between the two interstellar societies. Founded on the very ground upon which representatives of the Bull's Head refugees met with representatives of the Empire during the war, the colony features a unique blend of Klingon and old-Federation architecture and culture. The travel artery which flows through the commercial and diplomatic offices of Lakota is well patrolled by the Guardians; it is the most active transportation route outside the Hyades cluster. If you wish to conduct business with the Klingons, or if you wish to acquire a genuine Bat'leth from the forge of Kotaj the Eyeless, Lakota is your destination.

 

TRUTH: Negotiations with the Gorn Hegemony have not been quite so fluid. Many Bull's Head citizens are refugees of the Hegemony's hostile takeover of the Cestus colony during the war. Further Gorn expansion has thus far been discouraged by the Klingon Empire, but many Bull's Head merchants and governors still harbor ill feelings from the Cestus invasion. The more open-minded believe that much could be gained by pursuing an alliance with the Gorn. They are chiefly concerned with Bull's Head's reliance on the Klingons for foreign trade, particularly dilithium import. While the Klingons have been reasonable thus far, many wonder if they are simply waiting for the relationship to reach an adequate stage of dependency to increase their prices. Securing trade agreements with the Gorn, they believe, would foster trade competition between the two races which would ultimately benefit Bull's Head.

 

Life seldom flourishes on the young worlds of Hyades, so the people of Bull's Head must often look outside the cluster for sources of food. The MARGOSIS colony currently provides the richest bounty. Among the game of this jungle planet 25 light years from the cluster is the Margosan falcon which provide the most succulent meat known in Bull's Head. Attempts to establish an ecosystem of the bird in the Hyades cluster have so far been unsuccessful, though herds of the Margosan swamp sow are thriving on Gaia Prime. For now, Bull's Head gourmets must rely on interstellar hunters to acquire the falcons. Farming and gathering stations operate throughout the wetlands of Margosis, collecting samples for the Gaia Prime terraformists and assembling mass fruit and grain shipments for transport to the Hyades cluster. An orbital station supports a Guardian detachment assigned to repel pirate raids on the planet's abundant food resources.

 

Not inhabited, but of particular interest to interstellar explorers, are the mysterious ruins of ZOALUS IV, discovered by Bull's Head explorers only recently. The broken alien cityscapes that dot the world stand as silent monuments of the unknown civilization which once thrived on the Earth-like planet. Not all is as still as it appears, however. While the former inhabitants of Zoalus IV are nowhere to be found, their planetary defense systems are still present and operational. The formidable ground-to-air laser turrets and roaming defense drones have deterred preliminary attempts by the archaeologists of Xorax colony to learn more about the ruins and their former occupants. Looters have not been so deterred. Scavengers from Bull's Head have bolded the dangers of the defense systems to make raids into the ruined cities. A few have come back with useable supplies, alien technologies, or information which has been sold to the Xorax scientists. A few have not come back at all. The head of the Xorax labs is said to be looking for a capable crew (or even a fleet of crews) to accompany a large research expedition to the ruins.

 

FACTS: The Hyades cluster is roughly 65 light years across. 368 stars have been counted in the cluster, including the many binary and trinary groups. At the highly condensed core (where gravimetric forces make travel prohibitively hazardous) stars systems are often less than a light year apart. In the inhabited outer rings, 2 or 3 light years typically separate neighboring systems. This makes travel between the Hyades colonies unusually expeditious for the Bull's Head ships, often capable of no greater than Warp 5 speeds. The average travel time for a Warp 5 ship from one end of the cluster to the other (a trip which usually circumvents the dangerous core) is three months. For faster travel or travel outside the cluster, it is necessary to secure passage aboard one of the few available Warp 7 or Warp 8 vessels. The Guardian fleet counts roughly a dozen such ships, and all of the passenger liners which travel to the outer colonies are capable of at least Warp 7 speeds. Securing such transportation is not cheap; dilithium is a scarce commodity and the Federation's tech monopoly ensures that fast ships are no more common.

 

Trade? Adventure? Profiteering? Relaxed living? What is your preferred FLAVOR? What brought you to the Hyades cluster and its myriad colonies? Whatever it is, Bull's Head can provide it. We welcome well-meaning travelers of any species, and we allow you to conduct your law-abiding, non-disruptive business without interference. So what are you waiting for? Get out there! Take a tour of Bull's Head! Say hello to your new Hyadean neighbors! See the SIGHTS and experience the THRILLS that the Hyades cluster has to offer!

 

This pamphlet was prepared and distributed by the Hyades Tourism Bureau in Association with the Taurus brothers and the League of Free Merchants of Tranquility. The Bureau and its associates cannot be held liable for any damages or injuries incurred while voyaging in Bull's Head space. All transportation fares are nonrefundable.

Absolutely, Chirakis. The Federation is definitely not at the forefront in this game, though it's not out of the question that we'll run into a Starfleet patrol at some point. This game will be more about a starship crew trying to get by without the rather substantial security blanket that is Starfleet and the Federation. Many of the more convenient Starfleet technologies are unavailable. There are no other ships to turn to for help (unless alliances with other Captains have been somehow secured during the course of missions). There's a lot more lawlessness in Bull's Head than you'd typically encounter in Federation space, so the crew has to take the law into their own hands.

 

The flip side is that the crew has more freedom. We decide what jobs to take, even if they fall under the category of the aforementioned lawlessness. <_<

This is a general discussion thread that can be used by the crew to discuss the Qob: Tranquility game. Anyone is welcome to post here, however. If you have any questions about the game, post them here, and the crew will be happy to answer.

What is Qob: Tranquility?

 

Qob: Tranquility is a total redesign of the Qob sim, placing it in a completely new Star Trek setting which was inspired heavily by the canceled Firefly scifi series. Qob is no longer a Klingon sim, though the Klingon Empire is in close proximity to the new setting and has influenced its culture. Qob: Tranquility is a vision of Trek's future, taking place in the 2420's, approximately forty years after the events depicted on Star Trek: Voyager. The alternate timeline of the new Star Trek films is followed.

 

Rather than portraying a military fleet vessel, Qob: Tranquility portrays a ship crewed by mercenaries loyal only to the Captain. Qob plies the starlanes of a semi-independent society in and around the Hyades star cluster (locals call the region 'Bull's Head') on the far frontiers of Federation space. There are no missions being handed down by Generals or Admirals; rather, the crew is paid to perform jobs for various employers around Bull's Head. The work is dangerous in the unprotected reaches of Federation territory, and sometimes it puts the crew's morals to the test, but it's a small price to pay for independence from Federation mandate.

 

For more detailed information about Bull's Head and the Hyades cluster, consult the Welcome Pamphlet.

 

 

Independence from Federation mandate? Is that even a good thing?

 

In the future depicted by Qob: Tranquility, the Federation has lost its way. A devastating invasion by an extra-galactic alien species was closely followed by the darkest period in Federation history -- a civil war that lasted eight years. A faction which believed that Federation advancement and security should take priority over the Prime Directive emerged from the war victorious and is now largely in control of the Council and Starfleet Command. There are reports that pre-warp worlds are routinely bought off with technology to secure services and resources, and Starfleet responds harshly to anyone who works against the goals of Federation security.

 

The people of Bull's Head are mostly refugees who fled the core of Federation space during the war, or those citizens who left afterwards in protest of the new policies. Since Bull's Head is still within the recognized Federation borders, some Federation restrictions must be followed. But the Hyades cluster is far away from the Federation core, and Starfleet is still licking the wounds of two major conflicts; for the most part, the people of Bull's Head are allowed to govern themselves independently.

 

For more detailed information about the Federation and its relationship with Bull's Head, consult Edger's Guide.

 

 

Is Qob a Klingon ship?

 

While Qob: Tranquility is not a Klingon sim, the ship used is a D-13 model Bird of Prey. It's not the biggest ship in the Hyades cluster. The D-13 Birds were designed for scouting and skirmishing, requiring a crew of only 10-15. Qob, specifically, is not in the best of shapes. The ship is over forty years old, having originally served in the Klingon Defense Force. It's gone through a lot of refits and repairs and requires a steady and attentive engineering staff to keep it together. But Qob offers its crew versatility and elusiveness, two qualities which are especially important in Bull's Head.

 

For more information about Qob, consult the Qob Overview.

 

 

What is Qob's overall mission?

 

For now, the crew of Qob is concerned chiefly with getting by. With replicators restricted by the Federation, supplies are not so easy to come by. The crew has to perform jobs to secure a basic income, and, given the widely varying needs of Bull's Head's paying employers, missions will take on many different flavors.

 

Is that all the crew is concerned with, making money and surviving life in Bull's Head? Is any job, no matter how morally reprehensible, acceptable? Are there any more long-term goals, whether exploring beyond the Hyades cluster, helping to expand Bull's Head and defend its people from troublemakers both foreign -and- domestic, or even fighting to restore the Federation to its old ways? These are questions that can only be answered in the sims and in the logs.

 

To follow Qob's missions to date, consult the Mission Records.

 

 

What type of character can I play on Qob: Tranquility?

 

Bull's Head is a broad-minded society that's open to all sorts of individuals. Anyone who doesn't disturb the local peace or bring unwanted attention from the Federation is welcome. This provides you with a gamut of character background options that wouldn't make sense on a traditional Starfleet sim. Broad character options that would be common on Qob: Tranquility include:

• Former Starfleet officer. You left Starfleet before or during the war because you couldn't go on fighting fellow officers. Or you left afterwards because you were on the losing side.
  
• Federation Refugee. A lot of the common people of the Federation escaped to the outer territories to get away from the fighting. You quickly learned that life isn't as easy in Bull's Head as the pamphlets advertised. You had to pick up the sorts of survival skills that work well on a starship.
  
• Outlaw. You were a criminal or mercenary before the war even started or picked up your renegade ways in the bleak years during or after the war. You might still be wanted for crimes you did or didn't commit and came to Bull's Head for refuge, or you might have come to Bull's Head looking to prey on the locals.
  
• Original colonist. There were already several Federation colonies in and around the Hyades cluster before refugees began flocking in to start up a new society. If you're old enough to remember those days, you may have strong feelings about the way your home has changed.
  
• Transient. A lot of people lost their homes and livelihoods to the alien invasion thirty years prior, and took to new lives among the stars. Every interstellar power, not just the Federation, was hit by the alien invaders, so transients from throughout the galaxy find their way to Bull's Head. You decided that Qob would be a good place to stop for a while.
  

These are just general guidelines to get you thinking of a more specific character background, and your options are by no means limited to those above. Let your imagination run wild and ask the command staff if your ideas would work on the game.

 

In keeping with the sim's Klingon history, Bull's Head maintains a close relationship with the Klingon Empire, with Klingons making fairly common traffic through the cluster. Romulan space is also fairly close, and the alien invasion combined with the almost simultaneous supernova of their home star has made Romulan transients rather common. For the most part, however, any Trek race is fair game. Just keep it reasonable -- nothing that would distract too much from the game, like, say, an unassimilated Borg. You could also develop a race of your own (perhaps something from the largely unexplored regions of space near the Hyades cluster). As always, command staff approval is needed for whatever you choose.

 

Keep in mind that while your options are more open for character development, you would have been accepted aboard Qob because its Captain felt that you would work well together with the rest of the crew. Your motives for joining the ship may vary (in it for the money, running from something, fighting for a cause, etc), as may your attitude toward others on the ship, but anyone constantly fighting with crewmates or revealed to have purposes that are harmful to the crew would quickly find him/herself left behind at the next port.

 

Consult the Bull's Head Database to find out how your choices might fit into this alternate vision of the future. If your choice isn't listed in the database, it's a safe bet that you can make it up.

 

 

What positions are available?

 

The four traditional Trek sim departments all operate on Qob. There are no ranks (Qob isn't a military vessel), but a chain of command is still followed for the sake of smooth crew operation -- Captain, First Mate, Department Chief, Department Assistants. Bridge positions will not be assigned to anyone specifically; they will be rotated among the crew when they are needed.

 

The Captain and First Mate positions will be assigned to GM's, as per STSF policy. Department Chiefs will be chosen from among the rest of the players. Be advised that certain qualities are going to be targeted when Chiefs are selected. Qob's Chiefs are going to be expected to share in the responsibilities of directing missions and to be active in writing logs and discussing the game between sims.

 

To determine which positions are currently open in each department, consult the Roster.

 

There is also the opportunity for STSF graduates to fill the 'Passenger' openings aboard Qob, serving any of a wide variety of roles to the crew or simply hopping aboard for some role-playing. If you're interested in playing outside the departmental structure, read up on these guidelines.

 

 

No rank? Does that mean I couldn't qualify to be an STSF GM?

 

A LtCdr rank is a requirement for applying to be an STSF GM, but don't worry -- Qob's command staff will make separate determinations of each player's GM eligibility. Players deemed eligible will be considered to hold the equivalent of LtCdr rank for application purposes.

 

 

How do I apply for a position?

 

New Academy graduates will receive an application to join an advanced sim; Qob: Tranquility will be one of your choices.

 

If you are already an Academy graduate active on an advanced sim, you must request an application for transfer or additional duty. Send an e-mail to the command staff -- [email protected] and [email protected] -- letting them know of your interest in Qob: Tranquility. The usual STSF policy for additional duty apply -- after receiving your first assignment out of the Academy you must wait two months before joining an additional sim, and any requests are subject to GM approval.

The year is 2420. The United Federation of Planets has been fractured and reformed by Civil War. Desperate to restore a Starfleet which has been devastated by half a century of terrible conflicts, the new Council now places defense and security atop its list of priorities. The Prime Directive is now treated as a guideline, one which is frequently ignored when societal tampering can advance Federation agenda. Member worlds are gradually losing the sovereignty the Federation once allowed them; they comply with the Council only for fear that they would lose more. Those who once advocated moral and ethical responsibility within the Council chambers now find their voices carried away by the winds of change as Starfleet designs new ships with dangerous technologies. The once mighty and noble Federation has fallen from grace.

 

The place is Bull's Head. This loose collection of colonies, new and old, on the distant outskirts of Federation space has become a favored destination for discontented Federation citizens. Here, in the regions around the Hyades star cluster, a new society has formed. Distant enough from the Federation core to avoid Starfleet's attention, Bull's Head is allowed independence from most of the Federation's policies. There is no military in Bull's Head; there are only the mercenary crews that make a living by performing jobs for the society's wealthy elites. This is the setting of:

 

 

This spring, the Qob simulation will be moving away from its Klingon roots, taking on a new flavor inspired by the Firefly scifi series. In a revised timeslot, Sunday at 9pm EST, Qob: Tranquility will feature the adventures of a mercenary crew in a society trying to establish its own identity outside of Federation rule. For more information about this exciting new Star Trek setting, check out the Qob: Tranquility Briefings folder. Start by reading the FAQ -- it includes more detailed information about the new game, including how you can become a part of it.

 

When a launch date is decided, it will be announced in this thread and on STSF's front page. In the meantime, keep an eye on the Qob: Tranquility message boards for more background on the new game!

Joe Manning looked over the queue of ships outside Starbase 18, all carrying prisoners for transfer back to Earth. This was a time of joy for most of the Federation's citizens -- the Civil War was over. For the people being held in the brigs of those starships, the end of the conflict provided a rather more unpleasant taste. High-ranking Starfleet officers on both sides were being ushered to Headquarters so that their insubordination over the past eight years could be reviewed. Half of them, at least, could take comfort in knowing that their side had won the war and that the Federation would soon be undergoing drastic policy changes. The other half could not even enjoy bittersweet victory.

 

The inside of Joe's own brig cell had been a chamber for quiet reflection of the past eight years and for contemplation of however many years were left in his future.

 

Commodore Rolen's reflection stepped onto the viewport in front of Joe. "Commander Manning?"

 

"'Commander?'" Joe repeated, not bothering to turn around. "That mean I still have my rank?"

 

The Commodore stepped beside Joe, joining him in surveying the fleet outside the station. "Very few officers are going to be dragged over the coals, as I understand it. Heads will roll, make no mistake ... but they'll all be big heads -- the Admirals who ignored Sawyer's standing orders, the Captains who extracted themselves from the chain of command to take one side or another, and of course Commodore DiAngelo. His court-martial will be quite the spectacle, I'm sure; the Andorians will want an example made of him. But the rest of you complicate matters. It will be next to impossible to determine which officers were willfully breaking the chain and which were simply following the orders of Captains and Admirals who were breaking it, so you'll mostly get off with a stern warning."

 

"You left out the most important factor, Commodore," Joe replied sardonically. "Maybe the only one worth mentioning. Starfleet needs us too much."

 

Rolen forced a smile and hesitated to answer. "The years to come are going to be difficult. We've lost a lot of ships and a lot of good men over the past twenty years. And you might imagine that the common folks aren't going to be too keen to sign up for Starfleet service after all of this; Academy enrollment is going to be pretty stark for a few years."

 

"And how will -that- problem be addressed, Commodore?" Joe turned his head to look at Rolen. "As soon as the Council hands the Admiralty a quota for Starfleet recruitment ... will the Admiralty do whatever it takes to meet that quota? Will the Academy's standards for graduation start being loosened too? Their standards for acceptance? There's already talk that the Academy Chiefs are going to start exploring 'other avenues' of recruitment ... as in they won't be so averse anymore to overlooking applicants' criminal records."

 

"I highly doubt it's going to come to that," Rolen replied. "It's a big galaxy; I'm sure we'll find plenty of people willing to enter service."

 

"Yeah," Joe looked back at the viewport. "Especially when you start setting up recruitment centers on pre-warp worlds."

 

"You'll want to be careful about what you say in the coming months, Joe," Rolen cautioned. "Depending on how Captain Morrison's hearing goes, you could end up a prime candidate to assume command of the Gettysburg. But Command is going to be extra-careful about how they choose their -- "

 

"Are you serious, Commodore?" Joe turned to face Rolen. "You're telling me that a man's -opinions- are going to be reviewed as criteria for command now?"

 

"I know it may sound that way, Commander," Rolen shook his head and shifted uncomfortably. "But that's not it at all. Command is simply anticipating the aftershocks of this conflict. There are going to be a lot of folks on edge in the coming months, years even. They do not want strongly opinionated people holding command-level positions ... at least for a little while. They want officers who are going to be focused on getting Starfleet back on track, not anyone who might take a ship off and start a new revolution somewhere on the outskirts."

 

"Yeah, isn't that always how it starts?" Joe asked rhetorically. "Tell me, Commodore, why I would be interested in assuming command of Gettysburg? With everything Starfleet has been through, with all the changes that the new Council are going to bring ... why would I even want to remain a part of Starfleet?"

 

"What are you saying, Joe?" Rolen asked, facing him.

 

"I'm saying that there are things that are far more important to me right now," Joe answered. "Now that the war is over, Starfleet Command has found it within their hearts to turn over all the personal correspondence they've been witholding. When I stopped hearing from my wife and kid, I didn't know what to assume, and Command wouldn't listen to any of my inquiries. Now I've suddenly gotten all my wife's letters from the past two years, and I've missed quite a bit of the family news. My son ... he's gotten himself into trouble."

 

"Trouble?" Rolen asked. "I could send a ship to bring them back here, Joe. Where are they?"

 

"The Hyades cluster," Joe answered. "A lot of refugees started heading that way when the war started; I figured it was a much safer place for them, so I sent them out on one of the first passenger liners to the cluster. But it turns out not all the company has been great. The word I'm getting is that a new society is springing up out there ... and every society has its underbelly."

 

"It's a long way to the Hyades cluster, Joe," Rolen said. "And Command's drawn most of the fleet in to the core territories. But staying neutral through the war has left me with a few strings to pull. I'll try to get a ship sent out -- "

 

"No, Commodore," Joe cut in. "If my wife's letters are any indication, my son isn't going to be too thrilled about being brought back. I'm not even sure this is the best place for them anyway. I'm not sure it's the best place for me. I'm going to go find them."

 

"Joe ... " Rolen tried to look sympathetic. "I understand that a man's family has to come first. But I'm asking you to understand that Starfleet needs every good officer right now; you can trust my people to --"

 

"I'm sure they'd do their best, Commodore," Joe lowered his head. "And I know that Starfleet can't allow me to hunt down my family on the fringes of Federation space. If anything ... it makes my decision a lot easier." He looked back up at the Commodore. "This war ending doesn't mean Starfleet's found its way again, Commodore. And I don't think it will any time soon. I'm going to have to hand in my resignation."

 

"Please don't, Joe," Rolen replied. He agreed with most of what Manning was saying, but had to remain the impartial mediator, as he had tried to for the past eight years. "You're on the cusp of command, and you'll make a damn fine CO. Admiral Sawyer still runs Starfleet; give him a chance to work with the new Council, to try to keep the old principles in tact."

 

"Captain Morrison is going to be court-martialed for defending those principles," Joe said. "Can you tell me now that he's going to retain command of Gettysburg?"

 

Rolen only frowned in resignation. Joe nodded slowly. "Then the good Admiral has a lot of work to do. I can't afford to stick around waiting for him. I'm sorry, Commodore."

 

As Joe circled around to the docking bay's exit, Rolen turned to him and called out. "I hear they've renamed one of the colonies out in the Hyades star cluster." Joe stopped and looked back at him. "Here's hoping you find Tranquility."

You haven't let anyone down, T'ashaya. We miss you and we look forward to your return. Just get well, that's all that matters. <_<

"T minus eight minutes ... "

 

Commodore Petro DiAngelo craned his neck to look at Commander McKinnick. She was still standing behind his chair with a terrified look on her face. He looked squarely into her green Irish eyes and reassured her in his gentlest voice, "Not to worry, Commander. Admiral Sawyer will come ... and this war will end without one more sacrifice."

 

Those green eyes shifted down to meet his. The shiver than ran down McKinnick's spine at the word 'sacrifice' was not betrayed by those eyes. She was, indeed, hoping that Admiral Sawyer would appear on this battlefield ... but no so much to save their lives as to take the Commodore's place at the head of their fleet. Her faith in her commanding officer was diminishing rapidly.

 

DiAngelo smiled and turned his head back to the viewscreen. Admiral Geron's fleet was at the edge of the Zencar system. Thirty-eight vessels, mostly Andorian Guard or Starfleet, with representatives of a few of the other member worlds' fleets ... and one Vulcan survey ship. That would be their statement -- 'Vulcan does not fully endorse your views.' "Lieutenant Eetho," he said. "Open a channel to the rest of the fleet ... "

 

"T minus seven minutes."

 

Commodore DiAngelo stood and stepped toward the viewscreen, tugging down at the sides of his uniform. He watched the incoming Coalition fleet, the flagship of the Andorian Guard at its lead, and waited for the tactical officer's go-ahead. When he received the signal he turned to face his crew on the Bridge. "This is Commodore DiAngelo of the USS Montgomery, to the ships and outposts of the Allied Foundationist Fleet. You can no doubt see, as I do, that the final confrontation of this long war is drawing near. It is a relief to me that this terrible chapter of my beloved Federation's history will soon be ending. It is ... joyous to me that all you will join me in making history on this day ... in succeeding at protecting this beloved Federation from the greatest threat it has ever known."

 

"T minus six minutes."

 

"This ships you see on your viewscreens and console displays are coming here to put an end to everything this Federation has toiled for two hundred and fifty years to put in place. Their ultimate goals are no different from ours -- they, too, wish to ensure the safety of the Federation's citizens. But they wish to do so at a cost that it is far too great. The worlds that make up this United Federation of Planets were once societies in turmoil. With no higher code to follow, they fought amongst themselves over the pettiest of concerns, and freely exploited less advanced societies to further their own agendas."

 

"T minus five minutes."

 

"When the Coalition of Planets met to draft the Constitution by which those societies would govern their affairs, they did not seek to make us stronger or more secure by strengthening our fleets, -despite- the threats imposed by the Klingon and Romulan Empires. They did not seek to acquire resources to ensure that their fleet numbers could keep pace with the Klingon and Romulan fleets. The founding members of this United Federation of Planets sought the security that they could achieve ... by adopting a code of conduct that would elevate them above the Klingons and Romulans!"

 

"T minus four minutes."

 

"We raised the bar of interstellar government, and over the centuries to follow we achieved power and prosperity that has been the envy of -every- society we have since contacted. The ideals laid out in that Constitution were what -made- us the Federation. Without the Prime Directive, we are no better than an interstellar club, no better than the Klingon Empire or the Romulan Star Empire, or the Dominion, or the Cardassian Union. We are just a collection of ships protecting a collection of worlds that our leaders do with as they please. To sacrifice the code to protect the Federation is folly, because the loss of that code is the beginning of the Federation's downfall."

 

"T minus three minutes."

 

" ... it is quite possible that we will not receive the reinforcements we need to successfully defend the Zencar system. ... but no matter the outcome of this battle, we -will- successfully defend our ideals. There is no higher calling for a soldier. This is a fight we cannot lose. The Andorians are out of control; with their actions over the past ten years, they have thrown away any right to govern this Federation that was given to them by their forefathers. When word reaches the ears of the Federation's people of our valiant defense of the ideals on which this society was founded against these dangerous radicals, our cause will gain renewed support."

 

"T minus two minutes."

 

"Our names will live on. Others will rise up to defend the Federation. Admiral Geron's misguided crusade will end in failure. And not one of the sacrifices that we have made during this war will have been in vain. The Federation -will- emerge from this conflict stronger ... but only because we will prove this day that there are men and women willing to fight for the code that was established at its founding. For our children, who will inherit this United Federation of Planets, let our purpose now be united and our resolve be true."

 

The Commodore nodded to Lieutenant Eetho.

 

"Just under a minute and a half until the fleet is within firing range, Commodore. ... the flagship is hailing the entire fleet. I believe they listened in to your speech ... "

 

"Good." DiAngelo returned to his seat. "Put him on screen."

 

Admiral Geron appeared on the viewscreen. The perspective of his face was shifted downward, to make him appear larger and more elevated. He looked down at DiAngelo. "Commodore DiAngelo and members of the so-called 'Foundationist Fleet.' I will repeat to you the same ultimatum that was given in this system nine years ago, when my fleet was significantly smaller. You and the commanding officers of all the ships and stations which have joined your cause are to surrender at once and turn yourselves over to Starfleet Command for court-martial. Furthermore, you will turn over Ambassadors Ri'nok, T'Sera, and Sirov, who will placed under arrest for treason against the United Federation of Planets. The Zencar system --"

 

"I fail to recognize," the Commodore interrupted. "Starfleet Command's backing of your demands, Admiral. Or of the United Federation of Planets' support of your charges of treason. By my count, there are as many Starfleet ships in my fleet as there are in yours. Further, I have heard of no endorsement by the High Admiral of Starfleet of your fleet's crusade. And the aforenamed Ambassadors, despite holding seats on the Federation Council, took no part in any hearings in which a declaration of treason was made."

 

"The Federation Council," Geron replied with a sneer. "Ordered you out of this system seven years ago -- "

 

"-After- Ambassador Ri'nok and his fellow consulates fled to this system to escape threats that were being received at the Vulcan embassy on Earth. Threats that were levied by the Andorian government."

 

"Unfounded speculation," Geron replied. "And, ultimately, irrelevant. The Council made its decision and my fleet has returned to enforce it. Your defiance of their authority represents sufficient grounds for court-martial. You have one minute, effective now, to surrender the Zencar system to Andoria and to turn yourselves in for judgement by Starfleet and Federation arbiters. I would advise you to take stock of the forces that are arrayed against you, Commodore, for they are prepared to open fire if you do not comply with our demands."

 

"Commodore!" Lieutenant Eetho called out. "New sensor readings at the edge of the system ... coming from behind us! Twenty or thirty ships!"

 

DiAngelo quickly stood and looked down at the tactical officer. "Can we confirm their designation?" Commander McKinnick circled around the command dais and took DiAngelo's side hopefully. On the screen, Geron was looking off the side in confusion.

 

" ... Lexington ... Constitution ... Geneva ... Enterprise, sir!"

 

"They sent the fleet!" DiAngelo glanced up at the viewscreen, then looked at McKinnick, who was smiling hope and relief. Excited murmurs coursed through the Bridge of the Montgomery. "Earth is with us!"

 

"This is Admiral Geron of the Andorian Imperial Guard to the Starfleet ships entering this system ... " the Andorian said with frustration in his voice. "Please explain your presence here."

 

An expectant silence hung over Montgomery's Bridge. Throughout the Zencar system, the crews of the Allied Foundationist ships and stations waited for an announcement from the newly arrived fleet. On the viewscreen, Admiral Geron's brow was deeply creased, and his antennae were drawn close to his head. Finally, the voice of Admiral Sawyer came over comm speakers throughout the system ...

 

"This is Fleet Admiral Stephen Sawyer, Starfleet Command, acting commanding officer of the USS Enterprise to Commodore DiAngelo and the Foundationist Fleet ...

 

"Stand down."

 

The Commodore staggered back a step. He found his command chair pressed against his legs, and he fell back onto it.

 

"Your fleet is acting in defiance of Starfleet orders and Council edict," Sawyer continued. "This system is officially under Andorian control, and will be restored as such. The Vulcan Ambassadors seeking asylum here will return to Earth to face the Council's judgement. The commanding officers in charge of this fleet will be stood before a Starfleet tribunal; amnesty will be sought for all personnel who have followed your orders. I repeat ... your fleet is hereby ordered to stand down."

 

Commodore DiAngelo sat in the midst of the heavy silence that had fallen over the Montgomery's Bridge. The terrible reality of Admiral Sawyer's words pounded at his skull and sank into his chest. He recalled his days at Starfleet Academy, specifically the day that the Borg invaded the solar system. He recalled pledging after that crisis that he would always do his duty as a Starfleet officer to protect Earth, primarily by ensuring that the Humanity of the Federation never be comprimised. He recalled reaffirming his duty to Earth when the planet was attacked by the Beholders. Again, he saw a strengthening of the Federation's Humanity as the key to its perseverance. Clearly ... his fellow Humans derived other lessons from the Beholder attack. The Earth that he loved had turned its back on him. "Lieutenant Eetho ... relay the order to the fleet ... they are ordered to stand down. Inform the Admiral of our surrender." He looked up at Commander McKinnick. Tears were streaming from her green eyes. He could comfort her only with a morbid smile and an epitaph.

 

"Long live the Federation."

"Anyone wishing to send aid to any of these worlds is advised to contact the Federation Emergency Response Division at subspace channels 518-L6B3 through 518-L6B9. Direct aid packages are also being accepted at all of the relief camps which have been established at the colonies scrolling at the bottom of your display; a full list of colonies can be viewed at the FERD's subspace channel.

 

"We now have a moment to speak with Starfleet Admiral William Thorne. Admiral Thorne coordinated the defense efforts of Fleet Divisions 125 and 138 along the Klingon border. He is currently assisting with the management of the relief camp at the Faergus III colony and is maintaining contact with Starfleet Command in their efforts to gather complete records of the crisis.

 

"Admiral Thorne, Leslie Young of Federation News, I want to thank you for your time."

 

"Missus Young."

 

"Admiral, how many engagements with the Beholders did your Fleet Divisions take part in?"

 

"Well ... in addition to the attack which was launched against the Faergus colony, the Beholders targetted Starbase 318, one of the stations that was established along the Klingon border during the conflicts a century ago. The Starbase attack took place during the invasion's first wave, so my Fleet Divisions were totally unprepared for it. Only one ship was assigned to the base at the time, and one other could respond to its distress call before the Beholder fleet departed. Fortunately, the attack inflicted only light damage both on the base and on the defending ships. The attack on the Faergus colony was somewhat more severe ... though the colony was a third wave target, so by that point the 125th and 138th Divisions had managed to organize under my command into a combined defensive force."

 

"How effective was the engagement at Faergus III, Admiral?"

 

" ... well, Missus Young, I am sorry to say that the defense of Faergus III was only marginally effective. The ships under my command may have succeeded at drawing some weapons fire away from the colony, but we cannot be sure -- the Beholders' preference for striking at the fleet or the colony wavered in a largely random fashion. We managed to damage a few of the Beholder ships, but we were not able to completely disable any of them. Two of our light cruisers were lost ... and the colony suffered significant casualties."

 

"Yes, we are hearing similar reports from throughout the Federation. What can you tell our viewers about the Beholder ships, Admiral?"

 

"I, myself, know very little, Missus Young. I have been told that the Fleet has captured a few of the vessels, and they are being transferred to R&D facilities for study, but I imagine that those studies will be classified for the foreseeable future. As for my own experience, I can tell you that the Beholder ships are immensely advanced, at least on par with the destructive and defensive capabilities of the Borg fleet. We employed the strategies suggested by the Andorian Guard -- targeting the spires -- to some effect, but my fleet divisions were badly outnumbered and the Beholder vessels stand up quite well to attack."

 

"I notice, Admiral, that you are referring to the Beholder vessels in a present tense. You are not among the Starfleet Command officers who believe that the invasion was defeated and the Beholders driven away?"

 

" ... no, Missus Young, I do not believe that. I have seen the battle reports that Starfleet Command is compiling. Given the numbers and capabilities of the Beholder fleets, as well as the relative ineffectiveness of our weapons against their hulls despite the Andorian strategic intelligence, it is my belief that we were very fortunate to emerge from this crisis with our society still in tact. I firmly believe that the Beholders possess the ability to completely obliterate our fleet; their exodus from the galaxy merely indicates that they chose not to at the time."

 

"I see. Though we do not wish to cause our viewers any alarm -- "

 

"Some degree of alarm could be healthy, Missus Young. By no means do we wish to foster any panic among the Federation's citizens, especially at this time when we must all come together to aid one another ... but this crisis must serve to build a renewed sense of preparedness among the Council, Fleet Command, and the people of the Federation."

 

"Of course. I wonder, Admiral, if you have considered the speculations by some that the Beholder fleets were only advance scouts of a second invasion body?"

 

"I have indeed discussed that with Starfleet Command. My understanding is that one of the targetted colonies, equipped to screen for cloaked vessels, detected mobile sensor platforms accompanying the invading fleet. The name 'Beholder,' in fact -- a Tellarite military reference -- was applied to the fleets at this colony. It may be too soon to know for sure, but some of the experts at Starfleet Command believe that these fleets were sent here only to test our defensive strategies and capabilities. If this is true, it speaks volumes that the Beholders were able to essentially sacrifice so many starships of such advanced technological capability for the purpose of learning about our defenses. The primary body of their fleet may be many times larger and more capable."

 

"There are critics of that theory who believe that it lessens the heroic sacrifices made by our own fleet officers."

 

"I merely believe it is unwise to color the events of the past few days as a victory for Starfleet, Missus Young. I would not, under any circumstances, belittle the courage and honor of a Starfleet officer who would give his own life to protect a defenseless Federation colony. But the Admirals who are touting the word 'victory' when it is closer to the truth that we were simply ... spared ... may be unwisely building up expectations of our capabilities. Keep in mind that we were still in the process of rebuilding our fleet after the losses suffered during the Dominion War. We came out of this crisis far worse off."

 

"But Admiral, if, as you suggest, the Beholders' scout fleets were capable of 'obliterating' us, why not do so? Why merely report gathered information and wait for a larger invasion force?"

 

"It is possible, Missus Young, that that is not the Beholders' primary intention toward our galaxy. Keep in mind that they were probing various facets of our Fleet's and colonies' defenses, as well as observing our logistical capabilities during the nine-hour course of the crisis. Speculatively, a larger body may invade with the intention of occupying our more critical worlds and stations, of taking control of our society, perhaps to use our people as slave labor for resource gathering. They might wish to kidnap large groups of our people ... or to take a more subsersive approach toward controlling our governments. Their intentions may be something else entirely, something too alien for us to fathom. The evidence we have observed so far suggests to me that they are more than capable of carrying out any plan they desire. It also suggests that they -are- interested in the strength of our fleets ... so it is imperative that we work hard to prepare Starfleet for their return, or for any other threats which should arise in the aftermath of this crisis."

 

"Quite alarmist views, Admirals. If what you are saying proves to be true, is there anything that you would tell our viewers to ensure them that there is cause for optimism?"

 

"I would tell them the same thing that I have told the citizens of the United Federation since the day I swore an oath to protect them. The Commanders of this Fleet are not going to rest until we have made certain that your planets and your colonies are safe from enemies both foreign and domestic. This Federation has been knocked down by the Beholder fleets ... but as it always has in the past, it will pick itself back up and be regarded stronger for the experience.

 

"This I promise to the people of the Federation ... if Starfleet Command is given the authority that is needed to repair the damages, we will be ready for the Beholders if they return. We will rebuild our ships and stations, we will make them stronger and sturdier, we will recruit new officers to crew them and to patrol our colonies, and we will endeavor to do so with the renewed spirit of purpose that the Beholders have made the grave error of instilling in us.

 

"We -will- make the Federation stronger.

 

"At any cost."

A scene like this Commodore Murphy had not witnessed since the waning days of the Dominion War. As that war drew to a close, ferocious dogfights between small fleets of ships became more common. By the war's end, the allied coalition of the Federation, Klingons, and Romulans managed to assemble a fighting force capable of outmatching the Dominion, but the fighting left all of the fleets diminished. The slow years of rebuilding and recovering had not fully restored Starfleet to its former strength.

 

Now that diminished fleet was forced into battle again, this time against a superior foe and without the aid of the Klingons or the Romulans. Everyone in the galaxy was under attack; protecting their own worlds was every government's only priority. Worse, they were being attacked on too many fronts to count. Their forces were spread across the Alpha and Beta Quadrants ... fighting like cornered animals.

 

We're doomed, the Commodore thought as he watched the exchange of weapons fire on the viewscreen.

 

Attack the spires. That's what the Andorian reports had advised. The strategy was being employed to modest success by Starfleet, but there were too few against too many.

 

The viewscreen of the USS Lincoln focused on a close-up of one of the alien ships. 'Alien' was certainly the right word to describe it. Its configuration was as unfathomable as that of the Borg ships. From a central sphere roughly the size of a medium Stafleet cruiser, a dozen spires radiated outward in every direction, the whole mass the color of dark mud, composed of materials the scientists could not identify. Each spire was capped by a pale crystalline formation capable of emitting a powerful energy pulse or beam, with varying effects. At least sixteen different energy forms had been recorded, including the disruptor blasts that were primarily being directed at the surfaces of target worlds. Beams occasionally erupted from one of the spires to attack a nearby Fleet ship, employing everything from standard phased energy to electromagnetic interference. Each spire seemed capable of firing any type of weapon. Each was also responsible for maintaining a networked force field around the central sphere, protecting it from weapons fire. Attack the spires to weaken the field and render the sphere vulnerable.

 

Two waves of assault had taught the Fleet how to combat the ships, had shown that each -could- be destroyed. But their ability to maneuver and still maintain firing accuracy made it difficult to eliminate enough of the spires. The ships were at least as advanced technologically as Borg vessels. And there were too many. Too many working in concert.

 

The view pulled back, again showing the entire skirmish above Zera colony. Fourteen of the ships remained, engaging in combat with twenty two Fleet ships of various sizes. Nine of the Fleet ships were ill-equipped for space combat -- survey scouts and science vessels. Lincoln was one of only two cruisers left. The Roosevelt had been destroyed in the first three minutes of the attack. The alien vessels swooped together and combined their firepower to punch a hole right through its shields. The maneuver had been staggeringly effective ... but, for some reason, not repeated. The alien vessels merely continued their seemingly aimless fluctuation between bombarding the colony and attacking the Fleet ships.

 

"Commodore, we are being contacted by the colony Governor from one of the shelters," comm officer Warren reported. "He has something he wishes you to see."

 

Murphy looked at the comm officer. "Is he aware that I am busy coordinating the defense of his colony?"

 

"He says it is important, sir," Warren answered. "Something that may help against the alien fleet."

 

* * * * *

 

Lieutenant Commander Theron dematerialized in the underground waterworks of Zera colony. A large chamber filled with water purification units was housing the horrified colonists of Zera III. A rotund Tellarite wearing a suit stepped away from the main group of colonists to greet him. "Commodore Murphy?"

 

"Could not come," Theron answered, stepping forward and glancing over the colonists. A small group of them were lying off to one side, being tended to by the colonial doctors. "He's rather busy coordinating the defense of your colony. Do your people need any additional medical assistance, Mr. Ishog?"

 

"Oh, no, no, my people can manage, but -- " Ishog was cut off by the impact of another disruptor blast on the surface. Frightened noises emerged from the group of colonists as the ground shook and the lights within the waterworks flickered. "A pipe ruptured nearby after the last one. My maintenance people are stressed to their limit. Come, there is something you must see, Commander ... ?"

 

"Jace Theron." The Tellarite led him to a small bank of terminals situated against one of the water purifiers. Theron was surprised to see tactical diagrams on one of the terminals.

 

"Our sensor network is feeding data down here," Ishog pointed out. "You are aware, I'm sure, that Zera colony was originally established to act as a listening post along the Romulan Neutral Zone? These subterranean passages were designed, in large part, to act as bunkers in the event of an attack."

 

"Yes, I am aware, Governor," Theron replied impatiently. "What is it you want me to see?"

 

Ishog began tapping at the tactical display. "We still have a functioning tachyon grid in orbit of the planet, with a few nodes at outlying stationary positions. The grid was designed, of course, to detect the presence of cloaked Romulan ships ... but it is capable of defeating a wide variety of cloaking technologies."

 

Theron raised an eyebrow at the Tellarite. "The invaders aren't using cloaking technology, Governor. Their combat capabilities preclude any need for stealth."

 

"That is where you are wrong," Ishog said. He pointed at one of the other terminals, where a view of the battle above was displayed. Ishog zoomed to an area near one of the alien ships and paused the display.

 

"... what is that?" Theron leaned over the display to look closer. Two of the alien ships' spires were visible ... but there was something smaller between them. Only a vague outline could be seen, as much of a visual as the tachyon fields could provide. Ishog resumed the sensor recording, at a slower speed. It become apparent that the small object was some distance behind the alien destroyer, but as the larger ship darted about firing shots, the smaller sphere circled around it, allowing Theron to get a better perspective on its size. It was roughly the size of a Starfleet runabout.

 

"The tachyon grid has managed to locate eight of them, all wandering among the battleships. Once we got a fix on one of them," Ishog explained. "We hit its location with a active sensor scan."

 

"And what did you determine," Theron asked, looking up at the Tellarite.

 

"While the primary ships," Ishog pointed at the large alien vessel. "Are essentially weapons platforms ... the smaller object is a sensor platform. This is only our best guess, mind you, since there is too much we do not know about their technology, but the panels we've scanned on these smaller objects can be likened to most sensor array technology."

 

"So ... for some reason they keep their sensors separate from the main bodies of their ships." Theron speculated. "Taking out these platforms could blind them!"

 

"No, Commander." Ishog shook his head. "I am afraid not. We are not detecting any signals between the sensor spheres and the primary ships. Further, the same sensor panels -are- fitted to the primary ships; they all have independent scanning capability. These smaller objects have a separate purpose. I would guess that their interiors contain recordings of everything they scan."

 

Theron felt a sinking in his chest as he watched the small object darting about on the sensor display. "Data gatherers."

 

"Beholders," the Tellarite said, drawing a confused stare from Theron. "When my people fought against the Irindi three centuries ago, we organized special units of ... dummy ships -- ships that were mostly stripped down, but designed to -appear- formidable. These units, called the Beholders, were sent against the Irindi in the war's early stages."

 

"You lead the Irindi to believe that these ships were a significant threat," Theron looked down at the display. "So that you could observe their defensive capabilities and strategies before sending in the -real- ships. A classic probing attack."

 

"My people are not proud of this period of our history, Commander," Ishog said. "While the dummy ships were not designed to be true threats ... they still required crews. Criminals and thralls were forced to take the ships into battle. We sacrificed many of our own people to gather our intelligence. And although we employed only a dozen or so dummy ships, we still regret making those sacrifices. A dozen ships, Commander ... sent to attack only three or four stations."

 

"Commander Theron, do you read?" a woman's voice came over Theron's commbadge.

 

"Theron here," the Commander answered, still looking at the recording of the small sphere.

 

"... it's over Commander! The Commodore wishes for you to return. The alien fleet is gone."

 

"They're moving on to a new target?" Theron asked.

 

"No, Commander," the voice sounded relieved. "They're ... gone. Wormholes just opened and all the alien ships escaped through them. We're hearing it's the same all over the galaxy. The invasion is ending."

 

Excited voices could be heard from the group behind Theron as the colonists overheard the comm message. Theron, however, continued staring at the recording of the sensor sphere. 'Over?' 'Escaped?' 'Invasion?' Theron looked up at Governor Ishog and saw his thoughts reflected on the Tellarites face. These fleets hadn't been driven off. They'd completed their mission objective.

 

They'd gathered intelligence on the Federation's defenses.

"I am perfectly aware that Humans are dying out there," Admiral Sawyer said. He was looking out his office window at the view of San Francisco Bay. "I read every casualty report that is placed across my desk. The fleet commanders send my people to their deaths against one another ... and I am the one who has to inform the families. I have been carrying out this solemn duty for my fifty-five years of service as a command officer in this fleet. Yet now I often find myself at a loss for words. What do I say to the families, about their sons and daughters and husbands and wives and mothers and fathers who died fighting a war I so strongly oppose?"

 

"You have the power to end it, Admiral."

 

The view was so peaceful. The damage that the Beholders inflicted on the city twenty years ago had been completely repaired, even if the emotional scars of that terrible day remained. Below, people carried on with their lives as if nothing were wrong, as if the Federation weren't falling apart all around them. Many people left the city, the planet, when the fighting started, fearing that Earth would be dragged into the terrible conflict. They fled for the colonies on the outskirts of Federation space, denying themselves Starfleet's protection, but also its growing madness. Those who remained behind in this beautiful city, on this beautiful world, that Admiral Sawyer had grown up in did so confident that the troubles of the rest of the galaxy would not reach their doorsteps. And why?

 

Because they knew men behind the windows above would keep those troubles away.

 

"We will not drag Earth into this war," Sawyer turned to face Commander McKinnick. She was leaning on her fists against the other end of his desk, with a face of mixed determination and desperation. Ambassador Lockhart was seated in an armchair beside the desk. His saddened eyes glanced between the pair of officers.

 

"Earth is Humanity, Admiral," McKinnick protested. "It is our people."

 

"If the officers under my command choose to take a side in this war, there is nothing I can do for them, Commander. The commanding officers of their ships no longer recognize my authority. They follow Admiral Geron now, or the Commodore. I have ordered a stop to this madness on repeated occasions, and my orders have been ignored by the Fleet officers on both sides ... including you and your Commodore." Sawyer took his seat and raised his hands to his temples as Commander McKinnick began pacing in front of his desk. "The only Captains that recognize my authority now are the Captains of the ships defending Earth and the colonies which have been abandoned by the warring forces."

 

"We haven't abandoned anyone, Admiral!" McKinnick snapped. "We are fighting for those colonies, for their future!"

 

"Our vision of the future differs from yours, Commander," Lockhart said. "We are commiting what forces are loyal to us to Earth's defense because it is here that the seat of Federation jurisdiction lies. It is here that we believe a peaceful resolution to this conflict can be reached."

 

"There is not going to be a peaceful resolution, Ambassador," McKinnick replied, her tone almost pleading. "We are losing the war ... badly. I'm sure you've seen the reports -- Admiral Geron's fleet is going to reach the Zencar system soon. He has been absolutely ruthless in the recent months, making his final push to put an end to the war. We've been fortunate that most of the last eight years have seen little open combat, with only a few spikes. But this last spike has been terrible. The Commodore thinks someone from our side has turned and is feeding Geron intelligence on our fleet. Whatever he's got in his favor now, his fleet is mauling us. All of our support bases and listening stations are being targeted. Colonies that have been secretly aiding us for years are being occupied. We've been hearing reports of defenseless colonies being bombarded or ransacked by Geron's officers, merely because they supported the Commodore."

 

Admiral Sawyer rubbed his face and looked at Lockhart, concern etched on both their faces. The Commander stopped her pacing and continued, turning her gaze to the Admiral, "There is not going to be peace if you do not intervene. Either our side or theirs is going to emerge victorious. All of our supporters have gathered in the Zencar system, including Ambassador Ri'nok. They're saying that if Zencar is captured and Ri'nok is taken into custody, they'll make him stand for treason. He has been the Council's loudest voice of reason, and he will be removed from his Council seat. And the Andorians will -not- accept one of his supporters as a replacement on the Council. They'll find a Vulcan who agrees with their ways to take Ri'nok's seat. The Council will be under their control. There will be no more Federation. The Prime Directive will be as good as finished and everything we have worked for for three hundred years will fall apart!"

 

"You are being overly dramatic, Commander," Lockhart said. "But, believe me, I am as troubled as you are by what is happening out there. Tell me, what does the Commodore plan to do about this?"

 

"He plans to defend Zencar IV," McKinnick answered. "Understand, both of you, that while I agree completely with Commodore DiAngelo's cause ... in the last few years, he has demonstrated a fanatacism to that cause that has started to alarm me and some of the others. He steadfastly refuses to back down to Geron. He believes that the Admiral's fleet can be overcome, that we'll have 'righteousness' on our side because the defense of Zencar IV will be our last defense against the ideals we have been protecting."

 

"No matter what comes of this, there will always be people fighting for those ideals, Commander," Lockhart argued.

 

"And many of them may be slaughtered within the next few months," McKinnick said to him. "We don't have a chance against Geron's fleet. It's practically the entire Andorian Guard, plus the Starfleet ships that are supporting him. The Commodore believes that this can be overcome, because he believes that he has Earth on his side. He believes he will have your support before the end."

 

"This war is not between Earth and Andoria, Commander," Admiral Sawyer chided, his voice raised. "And I will not make it so."

 

"You don't understand what I am asking," McKinnick walked up to his desk and leaned over it, staring straight into the Admiral's eyes. "The Commodore will not be talked out of fighting. And Geron will fight because his forces outnumber ours; he will expect a quick surrender. But I do -not- think Geron would fight if a substantial fleet were arrayed against him. He wants a quick resolution, not a bloodbath. You have ... what ... 25 ... 30 ships still under your command? Your fleet could balance the scales, Admiral. Send those ships in when Geron's fleet arrives in the Zencar system and we can stay his hand. -Then- you can force a dialogue," she looked toward the Ambassador. "-Then- you can try to get your peaceful resolution. This war has been waiting on Earth's decision for eight years. Admiral Geron is through waiting.

 

"Please, Ambassador ... Admiral ... save the Federation."

"You have to be the craziest son of a bitch I've ever met, Decker."

 

Decker smiled the smile of a cat with a canary. He shook off the two thugs who were holding his arms and walked toward Cain's desk. He heard them charge up their weapons, but he knew Cain would have given the order not to harm him unless given a good reason to. The old bastard was too curious. "I see the office is still as nice as the day I designed it, old buddy. The minibar over there; hope you keep it stocked with the good stuff. The Andorian quicksilver fountain; remember what a pain it was installing that thing. Ah, that big ol' viewport behind ya, beautiful view of the asteroid field ... and the star cluster. You know how I love seeing the stars up close like that, twinkling all colorful-like."

 

When Decker reached the front of the desk and leaned against it, the Nausicaan behind Cain's left shoulder charged -his- weapon. Cain, as always, was a mess, his grey hair falling haphazardly to his shoulders, his face unshaven, his tunic shabby and stained. He'd always been an ogre. But, Decker had to admit, he was the one sitting behind the desk; he was a cunning old rat. "You got a lot o' nerve bringing that puny little bucket o' yours to this station, Decker. Didn't I leave you on some barren rock in the middle of the cluster?"

 

"That you did," Decker laughed and slapped the top of the desk. "And let me tell you, the view out there (or, I should say, in there) was -really- spectacular. Almost like having a hundred suns in the sky. Which means, of course, that there's little chance of a ship passing by and picking up anyone stranded on one of the worlds. The stellar gravity makes navigation a real pain."

 

"You got the idea, then," Cain leered. He reached his left hand over to the top drawer of his desk and pulled a cigar case out. He kept his right hand under the desk. He presented the case to Decker.

 

"You know I don't smoke, chief."

 

"You don't do magic either," Cain replied. He withdrew a cigar with his mouth, and the Nausicaan quickly produced a small welding torch to light it. Decker found this sight terribly amusing. "But you managed to get off that rock I stuck you on, so certain things about you have no doubt changed. Like ... your line of work."

 

Decker crossed his arms. "You knew I'd escaped, then?"

 

"Oh, yeah, I heard you got off my little makeshift prison world. I wondered how, sure," Cain blew out a stream of smoke in Decker's direction. "And I thought you might be fixin' for a little revenge against yours truly. But when I heard about what you were doing, I decided to let it go. Junk collecting, Decker? Pickin' at derelict ships and abandoned colonies?"

 

"Honest work," Decker's face was beginning to redden, partly out of rage.

 

"Really?" Cain grinned maliciously, biting down on the end of his cigar. His right hand hadn't moved from under the desk; his right shoulder appeared extremely stiff. "You was always the upright one, wasn't you, Decker? The moral crusader? The good man's bandit? Now there you are out there digging through the garbage bins of people who got killed by the Beholders. Maybe even digging through the pockets of the bodies that was left behind?"

 

"And what kinds of good deeds have -you- been doing for your community, Cain?" Decker retorted. "Funding pirates? Preying on shipping lanes? I've even heard of ties between the gang and some Orion slavers running their racket in this territory. Oh yeah, I've been keeping tabs too, old friend. And it seems you've been quite the busy bee now that Starfleet doesn't have enough ships to protect the frontiers."

 

"Is this why you wasted your time and mine coming back here, Decker?" Cain asked derisively. "To give me one o' your lectures? Or did you finally decide to cash in what few chips you got left, and hoped we'd kill you on sight and put you out of your misery? Because if you didn't come here to die, I suggest you turn around and get back onto that garbage scow o' yours ... the Princess Victor, is it?"

 

The thugs behind Decker laughed. The Nausicaan didn't. Decker merely smiled down at his old right hand man. "I came here, Cain, because I want it all back. I want everything you took from me. This station. The crew. The ships. The whole operation. All of it. Except for Meredith. Her you can keep. Considering where she's been the past two years, I want no part of her."

 

Cain just laughed in response, coughing out several puffs of smoke in the process. The thugs, whom Decker could not recognize from the old days, joined in. The Nausicaan remained still and silent. Then there was a blur of motion. Decker reached out, snatched the cigar from Cain's mouth, and smashed it into the desk top. The thugs lifted their weapons and pressed them into Decker's back. Cain's right hand whipped up from under the desk with a disruptor pistol tightly gripped, and his left hand darted underneath the desk.

 

The Nausicaan pressed his rifle to Cain's head. All movement stopped.

 

"Good work, Zelik," Decker said to the Nausicaan. The Nausicaan merely nodded and grunted.

 

Cain glanced to his side and the Nausicaan, and fury fell over his face. "You stupid, stupid son of a bitch. You think I didn't know this oversized pile of targ dung was workin' me? Big mistake for you both, though. My ship's got a constant transporter lock on me. One push of a button and she beams me out of here."

 

"What ship, Cain?" Decker grinned, preparing to relish in the canary's flailing.

 

It was then that Cain noticed the bewildered looks on his two thugs' faces. He spun his chair around to look out the viewport. The asteroids were still tumbling away from the former locations of the two ships that had been guarding his station, the force of their explosions having propelled them outward. The ship debris was tumbling right behind them. Where once there were two small pirate ships, there was now a decloaked Klingon Bird of Prey.

 

"What in the right red hell ... "

 

"Have a look at the syndicate's new flagship, ol' buddy." Decker leaned across the desk and slapped Cain on the back. "And say hello to the 'man,' and I use that term loosely, currently manning her Bridge."

 

A comm device in Decker's pocket came to life. "This is Captain Ugott of the starship Qob. I bid you greetings Mr. Cain!" Cain spun around and gave Decker a look of disbelief.

 

"'Captain?' Don't stretch it, lobes. You're the only person on the ship right now."

 

"Which is a problem we'll need to soon rectify," the Ferengi answered. "This ship is coming apart at the seams without a crew. Uh ... n-n-not that it isn't still quite capable of firing a disruptor salvo on your asteroid."

 

"Ah, did you catch that, Cain?" Decker asked. He pointed out the viewport. "My Ferengi companion would be referring to those long things on the tips of the wings there. They're called 'disruptor cannons' and they can take this whole asteroid out with two or three hits. Oh ... and that 'transporter lock' you were bragging about before? Yeah ... Zelik and I got that now."

 

"You crazy bastard," Cain slammed his pistol against the desk top. "You think my men will stand for this?"

 

"Well, I don't know." Decker looked over his shoulder. "What do you say, guys? You all want to die right now, blasted into a million particles? Or you want to follow a new boss, one who used to run this gang ten times better than it's being run now ... and that was when I -didn't- have a Klingon Bird of Prey at my call."

 

The thugs glanced at each other, shrugged, and lowered their rifles.

 

"Alright, fine." Cain dropped the pistol on top of the deck and raised his hands. "Fine. To the man with the biggest ship goes the spoils. I can respect that. There's no reason we can't coexist. Just like the good ol' days, eh Decker?"

 

Decker chuckled and shook his head. "'Coexist?' Are you really thinkin' I'd share the top of the hill with you, Cain?"

 

Cain glanced up at the Nausicaan and the end of his rifle, then at the two thugs who were only watching now. "Y ... you can't just kill an old friend, can you, Decker? That ol' moral code of yours, right? Never kill somethin' that ain't fightin' back?"

 

"Yeah, that's right," Decker nodded. "And I'm sticking by that code. I'm taking the syndicate back to the old days. No more preying on unarmed merchant ships. No more taking captives and selling them off to slavers. These operations runs the way it did when I was in charge last time. Lawless, but harmless, like I always used to say" He glanced back at the two thugs. "Might mean rooting out some of the more unsavory elements you've picked up over the past two years, but we'll be prepared for that struggle when we come to it. And as for you, ol' buddy ... well, I can recognize a debt to be paid. When you were sitting where I'm sitting, you could have killed me ... but you had mercy on an old friend. You left me on a deserted world. No reason I can't do the same."

 

"W-wha ... " Cain shook his sweating head.

 

Decker smirked and leaned over the desk. "Ever heard of the maximum security Fed prison on Nayal IV?"

"Tea, sir?" the waiter asked.

 

Gaston barely glanced up from the newspad. "Uh, yes," he blurted. "Two cups, please. Earl Grey. Lukewarm."

 

It was a lovely morning on Aldebaran colony, but the Interstellar Frontiers executive could hardly enjoy it. What once promised to be an exciting time for the corporate powerhouse of transportation and construction was turning out to be a period of scandal and disaster. They'd been lined up to oversee the mass colonization efforts in the Hyades cluster region, then reports of scandalous activities by select board members were leaked by an anonymous source to their contacts in the Federation Council, and the mining activities on Epsilon Tauri I were shortly thereafter sabotaged by Klingon pirates. A catastrophic and, Gaston was certain, all too suspect chain of events that lead to the Council distancing themselves from ISF.

 

"Sorry I'm late," Lisa Worden announced her presence at the table. "Our liner was held up in orbit."

 

"The colonial traffic is getting thicker these days." Gaston stood for his young assistant and slid the newspad across the table. "Look at that."

 

Worden grabbed the pad and quickly glanced over the headlines as they sat.

 

ROMULAN SUPERNOVA IMPENDING?

Federation scientists report disturbing readings

 

BAJORAN OFFICIAL ASSASSINATED ON DS9

Cardassian involvement suspected

 

MINE DISASTER PROMPTS KLINGON PIRATE HUNT

New suspicions raised about attempted theft

 

Worden quirked an eyebrow and touched the headline to bring up the story. "New suspicions?" she asked.

 

"Yes, it is like I have been saying," Gaston replied annoyedly. "There was always more to this story than a band of Klingon misfits blowing themselves up, quite conveniently, on Goldrock. Now this Admiral Thorne believes that they had accomplices and that those accomplices are still at large. There are no details being revealed yet, but it is clear that the whole sabotage is starting to be looked at in a different light -- far too professional and well-prepared to have been a simple act of piracy."

 

"And you believe you have an idea about who these ... accomplices ... are?" Worden asked, glancing up at Gaston warily. She already knew where this was going.

 

"Well, isn't it all too convenient?" Gaston huffed. "This Consortium of Bolians appears out of nowhere with a small fleet of ships, announcing that they have the firepower to adequately protect interests in the Hyades cluster. The board of directors is convinced that the Federation Council is going to give them the Hyades contract now. But there is nothing to protect the Hyades cluster against! Klingon pirates?! What in God's name were they doing so far from Klingon territory if someone on our side of the border wasn't pointing the way?"

 

"You're making a very serious charge, Gaston," Worden pointed out. "The Council appears to be convinced that the Gular Consortium is respectable enough to receive the commission. They could not have earned that respect unless they've been wooing the Council for several years."

 

"Yet we have heard almost nothing about them," Gaston said, reaching for the teapot after the waiter placed a tray on the table.

 

"Because they have been subtle and quiet," Worden said, her eyes continuing to scan the news story. "ISF is a very prominent organization, Gaston, and it's been around for a long time. Which means that little that we do is not public knowledge. The Gulars are newcomers, and they haven't done anything to draw attention to themselves before this power play, so they have enjoyed the luxury of being able to work behind the scenes. I'm sure they've been making a play for the Hyades contract since the year we originally proposed the colonization. They no doubt have the Bolian government behind them, and their control of this commission would give Bolarus significant political leverage in the Federation."

 

"And what else have they been doing subtly? These accusations that have been made against our board members, perhaps?! All patently false, yet the accusations alone have proven damaging enough of our image to help scare off the UFP Council. Never mind that we have been doing reputable business with them for over sixty years. Bah! This tea is too hot!" Gaston slammed his cup down and grabbed a napkin. "The board expects me to get things done in the Hyades cluster. I am going to have to speak to this Admiral Thorne."

 

"I would be very cautious about getting too close to him," Worden put down the newspad and regarded Gaston seriously. "Thorne is part of that new movement in Starfleet -- radicals who believe that the Federation is not doing enough to bolster security. They are not on good terms with the Council, and any association with him could further distance us. Besides, he is not interested in Federation politics and corporate maneuvering. He has made it clear that he is after Klingon rebels."

 

"Klingon rebels who may have Bolian contractors aiding their efforts," Gaston said. "Contractors who may represent a threat to Federation security ... aiding the sabotage of Federation mining colonies, for instance. If I can just gently steer Thorne in certain directions, he may uncover something that would damn the Gular Consortium and put -us- back in the Council's good graces."

 

"I've warned you, Gaston," Worden sighed as she took a sip of her tea. "I would only advise you to be as subtle in your 'steering' of this Admiral as you purport the Bolians have ... " Gaston waited for her to continue, but her eyes were suddenly diverted out the glasteel dome and toward the sky. "What is -that-?"

 

Gaston followed her gaze to the sky. He could hear several other people in the restaurant mumbling to each other confusedly. "-That- ... looks like ... " he hesitated, finding the notion almost too ridiculous to even mention. " ... like a wormhole."

 

And not just one wormhole, but several, opening throughout the Aldebaran sky. They looked just like the one Gaston had seen many times at Deep Space Nine. He knew that stable wormholes were among the rarer occurences in the galaxy. To see a skyful of them was awe-inspiring. The occupants of the restaurant were all standing, uncertain of what was happening. Gaston found himself on his own feet.

 

"What's going on?" Worden asked as she stood beside Gaston. There was a nervous edge to her voice.

 

Then objects began pouring from the wormholes. Dark clusters descending from the sky. Spaceships. It did not take long for panic to flow over the restaurant and the voices to elevate to cries of alarm, even before the ships began firing on the surface.

 

"Dear god!" Gaston exclaimed. "Lisa, we have to get out of here!"

 

Klaxons began sounding over all of Aldebaran and Starfleet runabouts were taking to the sky to respond to the unforseen assault. A lovely morning on Aldebaran colony was turning into a nightmare ...

"I have seen, firsthand, what is taking place at Zencar IV. I have met Commodore DiAngelo. I stood before him and shook his hand mere months before the order was handed down to the men under my command to depart the Zencar system.

 

"I do not wish to show any disrespect to the esteemed ambassadors, representatives, governors, and officers gathered now in this hall when I suggest that reports sent over subspace relay and copied to an ODRI cannot do justice to the severity of the situation. The activities being conducted in the Zencar system prior to our exodus were being kept under tight control. We were aware of the potential ramifications of our activities and considered it of utmost priority to ensure that our mining operations were conducted discreetly, and that any complications arising from our contact with the people of Zencar IV be contained to the Zencar system and handled in only the most delicate manner by our cultural advisors.

 

"For eight months prior to Commodore DiAngelo's assignment to the project, we were markedly successful at observing this priority. This was not my own opinion, mind you, nor that of any of the project's direct overseers. This evaluation was made by thirteen of the joint chiefs of the Andorian Imperial Guard and affirmed by seven Starfleet Admirals.

 

"I need'nt remind this assembly that the Council approved of our activities in the Zencar system as early as the planning stages and favorably acknowledged aforementioned evaluation. Ours was not, as has been portrayed by some of the representatives gathered here, a clandestine operation. The executive order for my men to depart the Zencar system was, likewise, not the Council's reaction to learning of the extent of our activities. Let it be brought into the open now, and let there be no room for further doubt, that the termination of this project -despite- the objections of its evaluators was an attempt by this Council to maintain a positive public image in the face of a sentimental campaign which has only recently been risen by misguided idealists, some of whom sit within this very chamber."

 

Geron turned to face the five heads of the Federation Council with his antennae raised proudly. The mumbling from the crowd behind him echoed through the spacious Council chambers. The Andorian Admiral raised his hand to beckon for silence and continued, "Let it also be known that Commodore DiAngelo, the public face -- though not, mark you, the leader -- of this campaign to disrupt our mining operations, added the unstable element to what was a stable situation. The difficulties now taking place in the Zencar system are unfairly ... nay, outrageously ... being blamed upon my people. This is a sentimental, in fact a convenient, viewpoint for the supporters of the Commodore's campaign, but it not a viewpoint in any way substantiated by fact. The clumsy termination of what was a carefully managed project and, worse, the Commodore's unqualified meddling with the society on Zencar IV, a society which my people were extensively briefed on for two years prior to the project's commencement, are the causes of your difficulties and of further growing damage which the reports on your ODRI's can scarcely quantify.

 

"I submit, esteemed members of this Council, that the Commodore's activities in Zencar IV, stretching back to his assignment to our project, qualify as acts of sedition ag-- "

 

The rest of Geron's words were lost to an uproar from the Council representatives. President Yozel swung her gavel several times to restore order. The Andorian's eyes shifted momentarily to the hooded face at the far left end of the Council dais. In the shadows of the hood, only a single eyebrow could be seen, and it was significantly elevated. Geron's charge of sedition, while not wholly unexpected, carried tremendous weight. The rift in the Federation was growing.

 

When the din subsided, the Admiral unlocked his gaze from the hooded Councilor and continued, "I submit that the Commodore's ongoing activities in the Zencar system must be evaluated more closely, with particular attention paid to the growing mass of followers which he is gathering to himself. I would also call for a re-evaluation of his defiance of the Council's initial orders to mine the Zencar asteroid belt. My consultations with Starfleet Admiralty have reinforced my conclusion that the Commodore's actions in the system prior to the Council's revised orders provided sufficient grounds for court-martial.

 

"Esteemed Councilors," Geron nodded slightly and took a step back toward the assembled representatives, who continued to whisper among themselves. The Tellarite ambassador on the dais nodded approval at the Admiral. Geron noticed that Lockhart, the Council's human representative, looked perturbed.

 

The elderly Caitian at the center of the dais sighed deeply and spoke above the crowd noise. "The floor will be submitted to Ambassador Ri'nok, who wishes to respond to the Admiral's opening statement."

 

All eyes in the chamber shifted to the far left end of the dais, where the hooded figure stood. The hood was drawn back to reveal a wrinkled face framed by straight grey hair and a pair of pointed ears. The Vulcan ambassador glanced around the Council chambers and looked down at the Andorian. "Admiral Geron. It is to be acknowledged that your speech, full though it may have been of pomp and passion, drew attention not unwarranted to Commodore DiAngelo's initial defiance of Council edict. His defiance was significant enough to compel this Council to revisit its policy on your Zencar IV mining project. However, it was determined then, and it remains so now ... Commodore DiAngelo was upholding, as is his duty as a Starfleet officer, the Prime Directive of the United Federation of Planets."

 

Geron narrowed his eyes and swept his gaze over the Councilors on the dais. They all knew, even Ri'nok, that their indecisiveness on Zencar had backed them into a corner from which they could not escape. "The Prime Directive," the Admiral repeated, making a show of casually brushing nonexistent lint from his uniform. "I believe we finished that particular debate a year ago, did we not? Did the Council not determine, madam President, that an exception could be made in the Zencar system as a concession for the sacrifices which my people made for the Federation during the Beholder crisis?"

 

"That determination was made," Yozel stated. "But the Ambassador's point remains valid to our discussion, Admiral. The Commodore, as a high ranking Starfleet officer, is guided by a Directive which he swore to uphold when he took the oath of service. It is understandable that the Commodore's interests would be conflicted. I would remind you, however, that the Federation charter grants Starfleet the same degree of autonomy that your Imperial Guard is granted. The Commodore chose to put the Prime Directive ahead of Council authority, and it was our determination that he was not out of line in doing so. If you wish to plea for court-martial, you may take your plea through the appropriate Starfleet channels, but the activities of Commodore DiAngelo and his supporters do not provide ample basis for charges of sedition."

 

"And what of his present activities? Will you sit back and allow Starfleet officers to carry out their own coup d'etat in the Zencar system?" the Andorian asked. "I wonder, when were Starfleet -or- the Imperial Guard given so much independence from this Council? What powers, precisely, do any of you wield anymore?"

 

"You are out of line, Admiral," the Vulcan ambassador chided. "The Commodore is not defying any Starfleet protocol -or- Council edict. We put an end to your mining operations, and we have given our approval of the Commodore's restorative activities on -- "

 

"Restorative activities?!" Gelor interrupted, ignoring Yozel's gavel. "He is sentencing an entire world to death! Do not sugarcoat it, Ambassador. His 'restoration' entails infecting the people of Zencar IV with a rapidly evolving degenerative disease that will kill off their species, to a man, within forty years!"

 

President Yozel spoke up, throwing a hard glance toward Ri'nok before looking down at Geron. "There is no evidence that the Commodore reintroduced -- "

 

"You are ignoring the obvious because it is convenient!" Geron snapped. "We developed and distributed a cure for the people of Zencar IV. After a mere four months, our scientists determined that the disease had been wiped out of the population completely. Now it has inexplicably returned. Your experts surmise that it is merely returning from dormancy, that my scientists' efforts were ultimately ineffective. But having inspected the Commodore's lab facililties myself, I can assure you that his people were working to re-infect the Zencar IV population -- an atrocity that some would color as a 'balancing of the scales,' righteous upholding of your precious Prime Directive."

 

"Your moral ground is questionable, Admiral," Ambassador Ri'nok. "Considering that you used said cure to purchase the rights to mine the Zencar asteroid field."

 

At the right side of the dais, Andorian Ambassador Qelis stood and cleared his throat. "If I may, honorable President ... our offer of a cure to the governments of Zencar IV was an act of good will to cement a positive relationship between our peoples. Among the many indiscretions being cited against my people, as noted by Admiral Geron, is the false claim that we bartered with the lives of the people of Zencar IV. This is not true. We merely extended an olive branch, to use the human term, engaging in a free exchange of scientific expertise for commodities which they controlled, just as we would with a species to which the Prime Directive does not apply. At the time that this project was submitted for approval, this Council decided that the people of Zencar IV were sufficiently advanced for an exception to be made."

 

"It did not decide unanimously," Ri'nok pointed out. He glanced at Lockhart and Yozel. "But, regardless, the votes which swung in your favor at the time have since shifted toward our current policy on Zencar, that we are not to interfere further in the system until the people of Zencar IV have achieved faster-than-light space travel."

 

"Tell that to the people that are rioting on Zencar IV, Ambassador," Geron said coldly, drawing a glare from the Vulcan. "The people who have learned that the disease that's cure they'd been celebrating eight months ago has been returned to their world by the Commodore and the rest of your supporters. Inform -them- of your official policy."

 

"If I could speak to the people of Zencar IV now, Admiral," Ri'nok replied in a measured tone. "I would ask them -how- they learned such a thing. I wonder how much of the civil disorder taking place on their world was incited by your agents before their departure." He raised his hand sharply to silence Geron's oncoming response, then continued. "Your associates are in no position to deny responsibility for the troubles on Zencar IV, Admiral. To meddle in the affairs of insufficiently advanced species is to invite such disaster. The people of Zencar IV were a dying species. You would have defied the natural order and gifted them with a new chance at survival. In time, perhaps, their revitalized population would have achieved faster-than-light travel and been introduced into our society. But how would their culture have been affected by the dependency on their 'benefactors from above' that you would have created in them? If the people of Zencar IV are to survive the disease and take to the stars, they -must- do it on their own power."

 

"And what of our people, Ambassador?" Councilor Qelis asked. "Of the Andorians, who already belong to this society? Our world was ravaged by the Beholders. Our fleet was crippled by their attack on our homeworld. The minerals of the Zencar belt were vital to our rebuilding efforts."

 

"I acknowledge that Andoria suffered great loss at the start of the Beholder crisis," Ri'nok responded to Qelis in a gentle voice. "I also acknowledge that the tactical intelligence which Admiral Geron provided to the rest of the fleet was vital to preventing such catastrophic damage on other worlds. But it troubles me to see how the leaders of Andoria have worn these facts as badges on their shoulders. I do believe sympathy played a large role in this Council's decision to make the Zencar IV exception to the Prime Directive. I vehemently opposed the decision and fought to steer the Council's mindset away from such dangerous precedent. But do not mistake my stance for cold indifference to the people of Andoria. If you would presume that the Vulcan people lack understanding of your plight ... then you would easily forget that my people lost our entire homeworld a century ago."

 

Geron pointed up at the Vulcan. "What your people lack, Ambassador, is the emotion to put such catastrophe into perspective!"

 

Another tense exchange of words was shared by the assembly as Ri'nok, predictably, stared back at Geron with a perfectly even expression. "Then you admit, Admiral Geron that the plea you brought before the Council this day and the initial Zencar IV proposal were fueled by the emotion of your people?"

 

"They were fueled by practicality," it was the Tellarite Councilor who answered. He stood and glanced over Yozel, who was looking more and more frustrated with the course of the hearings. "Madam President. Our fleet ... our entire fleet -- Starfleet, Tellarite, Andorian -- ... was diminished terribly by the Beholders. Pirate activity along our borders is already at a high we have not seen since the early days of the Federation; lawless scoundrels are taking advantage of the vulnerability of our distant colonies. And it is not just outlaws that we must fear. Our more aggressive neighbors were hit by the Beholders as well, but this is only more cause for alarm -- they are desperate to recover from the damages, and there are more weaknesses for them to exploit in our defenses. For the first time in over 200 years, this Federation lacks sufficient resources to defend its assets. And, most alarming of all, what if the Beholders return with the bulk of their forces? Our fleet -must- be rebuilt if we are to keep this Federation of Planets secure. But wars and blocked expansion throughout the recent decades have stagnated our influx of new resources. There is only one answer -- we must look to the resources within our current territories, resources which we have ignored for centuries because of the presence of pre-warp societies. The Andorians do not simply wish to rebuild their cities. In fact, they involved Starfleet in their project because the resources of Zencar IV could speed the restoration of the entire Federation fleet."

 

"At what cost?" Ri'nok asked, looking down the dais. "What is the point of securing this Federation if you would so casually discard the ideals upon which it was founded?"

 

"We are not here to discuss the Prime Directive, Ambassadors," Yozel said sternly. "We are here to discuss the situation at Zencar IV specifically."

 

"Indeed, Madam President, you are correct," the Tellarite said. "But the Prime Directive is largely a non-issue here; this Council decided last year that an exception could be made. Our initial decision should never have been reversed. The Admiral is right -- the Commodore's presence incited too many difficulties. I move that this Council take the new developments at Zencar IV into consideration and to set things straight."

 

"I second the motion!" Ambassador Qelis declared. "I am not prepared to back up the Admiral's charges of sedition against Commodore DiAngelo, but, in light of the new data he has brought before this Council, I feel it is only prudent that the Zencar system be returned to the Andorian Guard's jurisdiction."

 

President Yozel watched Ambassador Ri'nok for a response, but the Vulcan merely sat down and pulled his hood back over his face. "So be it," the Caitian said. "The charter worlds will review the new findings privately and decide whether the issue of returning Zencar IV to Andorian control should be put before the Council for a vote." She struck her gavel and sat down while excitied discussions among the rest of the Council representatives commenced. Admiral Geron grinned smugly and nodded to the dais before turning and striding for the doors.

 

Yozel shook her head sadly and looked at Lockhart to her right. The Human Ambassador returned her concerned look. What was happening to the Council and to the Federation? With every meeting, there was more of an 'us versus you' mentality among the Ambassadors. Starfleet was a big part of it. The Andorians were campaigning heavily for radical reformations of Federation policy, and the Starfleet command officers who'd supported such reformations even before the Beholder invasion were only the first to take their sides. Admirals, Commodores, and even Captains were swearing their loyalties to Ambassadors and Governors; the Starfleet chain of command -- clear when everyone had the same goals and followed the same ideals -- was said to be splintering. The Council could not exert central authority over the fleets without setting back a century of reform stretching back to the end of the Klingon wars; the scandal that would cause would be devastating in this time of rebuilding. And Fleet Admiral Sawyer, the ultimate recognized authority, was viewed and treated largely as a figurehead by most of the Admirals; any attempt on his part to unite the purposes of the disparate fleet heads might only provoke a widening of the rift.

 

At the middle of it all was Zencar IV. It was to the Commodore that many Starfleet Captains were swearing their loyalty. The planet had become a symbol for the traditionalists who opposed the growing movement to lessen the Prime Directive's restrictions on fleet operations. What had started as a small task group of ships assigned to restore order to Zencar IV had somehow grown into a moderate fleet, almost as if the Commodore was challenging the Andorians to oppose his efforts.

 

If the Council decided to restart the Zencar IV mining operations ...

 

Would the Commodore's fleet simply withdraw without an argument?

Are we on?

 

... this is Milar Croax, reporting from the Federation News central hub with the latest developments on the alien invasion ...

 

The second wave of attacks has begun, I repeat, the second wave of coordinated assaults on Federation worlds, colonies, and outposts began at 1742 Starfleet standard time with a strike on the Triega IV colony. The remainder of the alien fleets, numbering by some estimates in the hundreds, swiftly followed with attacks against the holdings which are being scrolled at the bottom of your display. Betazed and Zaran, we have confirmed, are among the worlds now under attack.

 

Starfleet has confirmed that the first wave of assaults hit targets in Klingon, Romulan, Dominion, and Cardassian space. The full scope of the crisis can only be guessed at, but this appears to be a full-scale invasion of our galaxy.

 

President Yozel and the Council have issued a statement advising all Federation citizens to remain calm and to be prepared to seek shelter in the event of an impending attack.

 

Starfleet has thus far been unable to assign a motive to these attacks. There is no discernible pattern to be found among the targets, nor do the attacks appear to further any central objective beyond throwing the Federation's fleets into chaos. The alien vessels are targetting military and civilian targets alike, inflicting damage of wildly varying severity in what can only be described as a random attack plan. The origin and identity of the aliens is also a mystery; based on the initial usage of wormhole technology, the possibility that this invasion is being launched from another Galaxy has not been excluded. Attempts to make contact with the aliens have all been ignored.

 

The first wave, launched at approximately 1350 hours inflicted massive casualties and damage on 106 Federation colonies and stations as well as the Andorian, Deltan, Symbian, and Coridan homeworlds. The assaults lasted under ten minutes in most cases before the fleets disengaged and moved on toward their second wave targets. Defensive efforts were largely ineffective; most of the invasion fleets moved on of their volition with minimal casualties, with only the alien fleet at Andoria sustaining significant losses.

 

The Andorian Guard is sharing details of their success against the alien fleet with Starfleet Command and the Federation member worlds; this information has been relayed to all known interstellar governments. Starfleet is deploying all of its ships and personnel to respond to the crisis, but the sheer number of targetted holdings is spreading the fleet thin. Sources indicate that several Admirals at Starfleet Command Headquarters, where the defensive efforts are being coordinated, are strongly proposing that the fleet be consolidated into fewer stronger battle groups capable of reducing the size of the alien fleet in anticipation of a third wave, but President Yozel is unwilling to pull ships away from any of the colonies under attack. Starfleet Command and the Federation Council have officially denied that such a rift exists.

 

Imagery of the attacks has been scarce as Starfleet has begun restricting access to the subspace network. The following images, collected by FedNews during the assault on Aldebaran colony, showed eighteen wormholes opening in high orbit of the planet, each depositing three to four of the alien vessels. The configuration of the vessels ...

 

Wait ... we are receiving updated reports now ...

 

The second wave appears to be ending in the same manner as the first. Reports trickle in now from the targetted worlds that the alien fleets are disengaging from their targets at faster-than-light speed. The UFP fleets have abandoned pursuit ... the alien vessels are capable of sustaining warp velocities out of the reach of the vast majority of the Federation ships.

 

... we are getting an update from Starfleet Command. They are confirming that the alien fleets are moving on from their second targets and are all on course for new, separate, locations. Command is determining the likely destinations of the fleets and will coordinate their own fleet movements to mount a defense. Targetted worlds and outposts will receive warning of the invasion force's arrival; we will relay this information as soon as we receive it.

 

Battle summaries are coming in from the targets hit by the alien fleet in this latest assault. With the advance warning of these attacks, Starfleet was more successful in mounting a defense, but the remainder of the alien fleet is still said to be 'overwhelming' in both numbers and capabilities, and casualty reports of the attack thus far appear to be just as grim.

 

Initial impressions are that the alien fleet is still operating with no concise attack strategy. Several fleets engaged with the defending Federation forces without firing a single shot on their target worlds; still others completely ignored the weapons fire of the defenders while randomly bombarding targets on the surface. ... Starfleet is reporting the total loss of Starbase 119 in the Antares Sector. Starbase 54, by contrast, sustained little damage; the alien fleet merely disabled all of the station's weapons platforms before disengaging. The technological level of the alien ships seems sufficient to cause even more widescale and catastrophic damage than we are observing, but the severity of each attack continues to vary. Starfleet Command remains baffled at the motives of the alien invaders.

 

... there are indications that the city of Genara on Betazed was hit hard. The Betazoid homeworld appears to have gotten the worst of this wave in terms of the total extent of the damages and casualties, though the planet was not hit nearly as hard as Andoria. Starfleet forces deployed to Betazed with the military intelligence provided by the Andorians met with moderate success at protecti-- ...

 

... hold on ... we are getting new reports from Starfleet on the movements of the alien fleets ...

 

...

 

... one of the alien fleets is en route to Earth ... I repeat, Earth appears to be among the next destinations of the alien invasion force ...

"Eleventh of August, 2405, 1300 hours ... "

 

"The Monitor continues to drift through the Corpsis asteroid field on minimal and rapidly dwindling backup power reserves. The medical staff is distributing emergency oxygen tanks among the crew to supplement the ship's failing supply, and we are utilizing our phasers to heat the ship's gel packs for warmth. In light of the extraordinary circumstances which my crew now faces, I have made a very difficult and undoubtedly controversial decision ... "

 

Captain Marie Gilardi surveyed the faces of the gathered crew -- the bridge staff as well as ranking officers from below decks -- as she emerged from the Ready Room. Many were concealed behind the hoods of parkas that had been taken from the away mission lockers. Shadows fell across their features as the lights flickered for lack of sufficient power. For Captain Gilardi, the looks on those faces did not need to be clearly visible. She could sense the concern of every member of her crew; it was echoed in her own concern.

 

Commander Worden stood from the command chair and took his place beside the Captain. There was tense silence as the crew waited for news. Hope was dwindling fast; they needed a positive development to hold onto.

 

"As many of you are already aware," the Captain began. "The senior staff has convened to discuss our current situation and a consensus has been reached. At exactly 1242 hours, Monitor's distress beacon was activated ... "

 

A wave of gasps and mumbles made its way through the assemblage. The command staff waited for the din to settle down before Commander Worden continued, "It was the judgment of the senior staff that this was our only recourse. The last engagement crippled us. We do not have the capability to survive a warp jump to the nearest friendly outpost, and our engineers will not be able to affect the needed repairs before our life support runs out ... "

 

"In short," Captain Gilardi said. "We need help. We've put the call out for a rescue and we're confident that one of our own ships will arrive to transport the crew before the life support fails. Unfortunately, Monitor herself will very likely be beyond retrieval." For the first time, the Captain allowed the pain of the situation to reflect itself on her face. Even under the most favorable of circumstances, the ship that she had commanded for twelve years would be lost.

 

One of the officers tentatively stepped forward from the rest -- Ensign Torul, an assistant tactical officer. He asked the one question that was on every officer's mind. "Captain ... Commander ... what if the enemy picks up our distress signal first?"

 

"That is the risk involved in our decision, Ensign," the Captain replied. "And it is a risk we have decided we are willing to take. Lieutenant Jensen will be overseeing the placement of our remaining torpedoes throughout the surrounding asteroid field. If the enemy approaches, we will detonate them to give ourselves a chance at survival. It is a slim hope ... but, at the worst, we will at least take a few of them down with us ... "

 

The officers all looked as if they were attending their own funerals. They were Starfleet, however, and would remain resolute. These were the officers who joined the Fleet after the war began, or the few pre-war recruits who remained even as so many resignations and transfers were taking place around them. They were here because of their beliefs in the ideals they were fighting for, and those beliefs would not be shaken even by the realization that they may have to die for them. Captain Gilardi was proud of every one of them, and if Monitor was to make an end here, she would be glad to count herself among them.

 

* * * * *

 

Captain Gilardi handed the PADD back to the young engineer and dismissed her with an encouraging nod. She looked over at her first officer, Commander Worden, seated to her right. He was staring ahead at Monitor's viewscreen, but there was a distant expression on his face. He wasn't frightened; Gilardi knew enough about her young first officer to know that much. But as she observed the deep contemplation in his eyes, she was reminded of how little she knew about Kevin Worden.

 

Worden had only been assigned to Monitor five months ago -- crew manifests were anything but steady these days -- and he never offered much about his personal life. There was no question he was a fine officer, and he was brave in battle without being reckless or emotional, good qualities in these bleak times. There wasn't much point to inquiry beyond the professional assets, what with the increasingly turbulent nature of Starfleet rosters. This war, perhaps more than any other in the Federation's history, had a tendency to ensure that friendships did not last long.

 

Still, as the inevitable crept upon the Corpsis asteroid field and the crew of 118 hiding within, the Captain wondered if she would never get the chance to know her first officer better. "What's on your mind, Kevin?" she asked, drawing a surprised look. She only used first names when she wanted to make it clear that the discussion was to be personal and off the record; she deeply regretted that such informality had become increasingly rare in recent years. "Family back home?"

 

"No family," Worden answered, humoring his commanding officer -- no doubt she'd reviewed such information in his personnel files -- but thankful for the opportunity to talk in any event. "There was never time to settle down even before all this started. Raised to be an officer and all; Fleet runs in the family. Actually ... I was thinking about my sister just now."

 

Gilardi smiled. "She an officer as well?"

 

"No," Worden chuckled. He loosened the top of his parka and reached inside to pull out a thin gold chain with a locket on the end. He opened the locket and showed Gilardi a picture of a young woman; the resemblance between the siblings was noticeable. "She became a businesswoman, against our father's wishes. She was interning with a corporation that was going to spearhead a big colonization movement when ... " A shadow fell over his face. "This was recovered from the wreckage at Aldebaran. She and her fiance were there when the Beholders attacked."

 

The Captain was legitimately surprised. Worden's file mentioned a deceased sister, but none of the details were provided. "Aldebaran was one of the first colonies hit. Kevin, I had no idea you had family there. I'm sorry."

 

"I've kept her close ever since," Worden smiled at the Captain, closing the locket and tucking it back inside his parka. He looked back at the blank viewscreen. "I can't help but think ... how would she feel about all of this? About this war? Seeing as how she was there at the beginning ... how she lost her life to the Beholders."

 

Gilardi stared silently at her first officer. There were no easy answers to questions like that. The Commander's was even more difficult. Knowing he had a sister who'd lost her life on Aldebaran, she was surprised that he was here on Monitor ...

 

A console at the back of the Bridge beeped loudly and everyone looked up from their stations and back at the tactical officers, Jensen and Torul. "Proximity alert sounding, Captain," Jensen reported. Gilardi and Worden were both on their feet. "Three ships on approach."

 

"On screen," Gilardi ordered and looked at the viewscreen. Three vague shapes could be seen beyond the cloud of asteroids. Every pair of eyes on the Bridge was trained on the viewscreen, the tension mounting as they awaited judgement. "Zoom in, Mr. Jensen, let's get a clearer picture."

 

"Diverting as much power to sensors as I can spare," Jensen replied. The view slowly focused on the three ships, almost near the edge of the asteroid field already, sweeping the field with their own sensors to locate the source of the distress signal.

 

They were all Starfleet ships. Two Akira class, one showing minor amounts of hull damage, flanking a mighty Sovereign class cruiser. Commander Worden inhaled sharply at the sight.

 

"Can we make out the designation on that Sovereign, Jensen?" the Captain asked.

 

"It's the ... " the tactical officer tapped his console several times, then looked up slowly. "Constantine."

 

Gilardi looked back at the tactical station. She immediately noticed the look on young Ensign Torul's face. Torul was the one who'd asked about the contingency no one wanted to face -- what if the enemy picked up the distress signal. For Torul, the contingency was more personal than anyone could have imagined. "Constantine ... " he feebly repeated Jensen. "Th ... that's the ship my brother is on."

 

The Captain looked back at the viewscreen. The three ships were well within the boundary of the asteroid field, navigating the celestial debris even as they scanned the crippled Monitor. In these times, it just didn't pay to ask officers about their personal lives. Loyalty issues aside, it just made hard decisions even harder. She looked at Worden standing beside her. He simply nodded back at her with a look of grim acceptance on his face. "Lieutenant Jensen," she said without looking away.

 

" ... Captain ... "

 

"Detonate the torpedoes."

"Q ...

 

"... O ...

 

"... B ... "

 

"Cob?"

 

Decker turned to look at his 'science man,' or poor excuse thereof, the Ferengi Ugott. Ugott was handy with techs, even techs of alien make, and he'd had a bit of prior experience trekking the galaxy, having served four years aboard a Ferengi survey vessel. He was the smartest person Decker could afford to recruit. But considering that Decker's hired muscle often forgot to tie his own boots, that wasn't saying much.

 

Ugott looked up from the translator program running on his tricorder. "Qob," the Ferengi corrected him, properly pronouncing the Klingon vowel. "Like lobe, see?" He tugged on one of his giant ears to illustrate.

 

"Whatever," Decker shrugged and looked back at the front viewport and the runes that were painted in dark red on the hull of the Klingon ship. "What's it mean?"

 

The Ferengi bore his fangs with a leering grin that the Captain could not see. "Danger."

 

The door at the back of the cockpit opened and the towering Nausicaan Zelik entered, remembering to duck his head under the top of the frame. Ugott looked back at Decker's 'bodyguard' and silently cursed to himself; he'd been keeping a running tally of the number of times the braindead bruiser had accidentally slammed his head against a low obstacle somewhere on the Queen Vicky (or whatever nonsense Decker was calling his scav ship nowadays). Zelik patted the disruptor rifle at his side to signal that he'd gotten himself ready, then he looked around the cockpit to survey the situation. "What we got?"

 

"Danger," Decker answered, tilting his head at the derelict Bird of Prey and the horizon of the planet beyond. Nayal IV. One of the planets that had been hit by the Beholders. One of the planets off which Decker and his crew were building their nest eggs. So many colony worlds had been hit by the Beholders. Some, mostly the smaller ones out here on the fringe, had simply been abandoned by their remaining inhabitants, and the Federation hadn't gotten around to sending salvage ships to all of them.

 

They didn't have too many ships left to send.

 

Just the kind of circumstances that opportunists like Decker thrived under.

 

"What's a Klingon Bird doin' this deep in Fed space?" the Nausicaan asked, now standing beside Decker at the front of the cockpit.

 

The short (by comparison) human looked up at his hired muscle with a grin. The only things ol' Zelik ever showed any insight about were fleet positions, battle tactics, and weapons. The sound of plastic striking tritanium alerted Decker that Ugott was having troubles with his tricorder again. Maybe this latest haul would provide them with enough income to get the Ferengi the new arm-mounted model; they were supposedly more adaptive -and- reliable.

 

"Ah! Here it is," the Ferengi announced. "Qob. A former Klingon Defense Force vessel."

 

"Former?" Decker turned to look at Ugott. "As in MIA? Or they went renegade?"

 

Ugott continued reading the tricorder display. "Their Captain was declared treasonous by the Empire in '81. Doesn't say why. He and his crew stole the ship and escaped rather than surrender to state punishment. Listen to this. 'Over the years that followed, Qob became one of the most dangerous and successful pirate vessels in Klingon history, menacing shipping lanes on both sides of the Klingon/Federation border and even raiding colonies, always managing to evade pursuit and leave little trace of their activities.'"

 

Decker's eyes lit up as he looked back at the Bird. "Payday," he said. "Looks kind of small to be the most dangerous pirate vessel in Klingon history, though I'm still wondering if it can be made operational ... "

 

"Not so fast," Ugott replied. "It turns out there's been more than one Qob. 'Stories of Qob's deeds became legend among other Klingon renegades. Around 2386, conflicting reports of variously sized and configured ships bearing the name "Qob" began to surround Klingon pirate activity. A renegade cruiser captured by the Defense Force in 2387 confirmed suspicions -- other pirate ships were adopting the name "Qob" in mimicry of the original renegade ship, hoping that the name would bring good fortune in battle and inspire fear in enemies.'"

 

"What? So which Qob is this?" Decker asked. Zelik towered beside him, scratching his head in confusion. "And what was it doing in orbit of a Federation penal colony when the Beholders attacked?"

 

"To your first question," Ugott answered. "I cannot provide an answer. There is no public record of the configurations of the original Qob or any of its mimics. The records do hint at quite a few mimics, so the odds -are- against this one being the original. Why it is here is anyone's guess. My scans showed a total loss of power, even backup power, consistent with the Beholders' draining beam, so it is not likely that they were aiding the Beholders."

 

"Don't be stupid," Decker waved a dismissive hand at the Ferengi. "Nobody worked with the Beholders."

 

"The Beholders needed nobody's help," Ugott agreed. "But that is not to say that these Klingons did not attempt to offer their help. Nayal IV was one of the third wave targets, so they had to know what was coming. Perhaps they were trying to make contact in order to forge an alliance. I find the idea of a Klingon pirate ship coming to a Federation colony's aide no more plausible."

 

"Maybe they were already here when the invasion started," Decker suggested. "Maybe there was a Klingon prisoner on the surface that they were trying to spring loose. In any event, we're only going to find more answers on board. And we may just be able to comandeer ourselves a genuine pirate ship, just like the old colonial days back on Earth.

 

"So, who's in the mood for a field trip to a derelict Bird of Prey?"

Qob will not be running tomorrow night (the 22nd) but will resume play next week (the 29th). Happy holidays all!

Date: December 8th, 2389

Time: 1640 hours

Location: nearing Klingon border, en-route to Gorn border

Status: non-alert, cloak active

 

The IKC QoB (which serves the Empire, though its crew gives no allegiance to the Chancellor or any authority higher than Captain MoQtal) is still in transit to Klingon space. Starfleet did not track its exit from the Hyades cluster, so it appears to have evaded any pursuit.

 

The Captain has given no indication of QoB's destination aside from alluding to a homebase where Klingon outcasts and enemies of the Chancellor meet and conduct business. The new recruits have never heard of this base -- word of its existence has been shared only with an elite circle of trusted allies. Representatives of the Gorn Hegemony will be awaiting the tritanium shipment at this base, and the Bolian Gular will depart for Federation space.

 

QoB is still almost a week from its destination, so the new recruits still have time to settle in to their new surroundings and to get to know their new crewmates.

Chat log for 12/01/09. Scroll down for download link

 

23:15:17 Joe Manning -> BEGIN SIM

23:15:46 Xandra -> <<back>>

23:15:55 MoQtal -> ::Sitting in the gunner seat across from Joker, Shark driving the vehicle. Looks back into the cargo area where the new recruits are seated::

23:16:35 Fox Smokey -> ::sitting in the back, trying very hard to keep collected and calm; show no signs of weakness or fear::

23:16:45 K'mLak -> :: studing the ones in the front seats::

23:16:51 Xandra -> ::sitting in the seat she was assigned , brain on overdrive trying to find some kind of advantage out of the situation ::

23:17:02 MoQtal -> We will be aboard QoB shortly.

23:17:23 Xandra -> ::nods::

23:17:28 MoQtal -> ::Glances at his dashboard chronometer:: You will wish to hold on to your seats if you are not strapped in securely.

23:18:04 Xandra -> ::grabs her seat and holds on tightly::

23:18:16 Fox Smokey -> ::does the same::

23:18:25 K'mLak -> ::secures herself::

23:18:39 Sargh -> ::tries to look casual holding onto the seat...but fails, mostly::

23:18:55 MoQtal -> Shark> ::Following the tracks toward QoB's cargo ramp, tracks which are soon to be erased::

23:19:23 MoQtal -> ACTION: The earth shudders violently as a massive explosion begins collapsing the Goldrock mines underneath the surface

23:19:26 Xandra -> ::looks intensly at Sargh, trying some mind reading or something .. hoping to get some kind of insight by staring long enough ::

23:19:51 Xandra -> ::is almost thrown out of her seat :: What the Hell was that ???????

23:20:02 K'mLak -> They are blowing the mines

23:20:05 Sargh -> ::constantly projects thoughts about giant tuna in order to resist attempts at telepathic reading::

23:20:24 MoQtal -> ::Quirks an eyebrow and looks back toward Xandra:: You did not think that self-destruct timer was a bluff, did you?

23:21:00 Xandra -> ::mumbles something intelligebile .. having forgotten about the self destruct ::

23:21:24 Fox Smokey -> ::keeps silent; observing::

23:21:45 MoQtal -> A pall of disarray is being cast over this entire planet. We are the calm at the center of the storm, and we will soon punch through that center and leave this system behind. ::Watches the approach to QoB on sensors::

23:22:17 MoQtal -> ::Glances back at the recruits:: You may ask your questions.

23:22:44 Sargh -> ::doesn't hesitate:: How long has my position been open?

23:22:52 K'mLak -> What has happened to our vessle?

23:23:05 Fox Smokey -> ::smirks at Sargh::

23:23:23 Xandra -> :: wishes she had laser beam eyes :: What's expected of us >

23:23:23 MoQtal -> ::Laughs, looks at Sargh:: You are wondering if it was open even when you met my first officer on Gandora? Indeed, Sargh, it has been open for eight months ...

23:23:25 Xandra -> *?

23:23:58 MoQtal -> She was a greedy hound who needed to be put down. Her interests in our fight for the Empire dwindled and were replaced by a lust for luxuries and bloodshed.

23:24:32 MoQtal -> She was killed just before we arrived at Goldrock. I was certain you would join us. You are one of us.

23:24:43 Xandra -> ::remembres vaguely the ugly Klingon female from the Cafe on gandora ::

23:24:56 MoQtal -> ACTION: The armored car pulls up a ramp and into a cloaked Bird of Prey

23:25:12 MoQtal -> ::Looks over at K'mLak:: Your vessel is no longer an issue. Soon, you will see its fate.

23:25:43 K'mLak -> What if others wish to join you to save themselves?

23:25:54 K'mLak -> Would you not give them that chance?

23:26:10 MoQtal -> Has anyone in this vehicle joined me to save themselves?

23:26:40 Fox Smokey -> ::Shrugs, Speaks up:: It seemed to be in my best interest.

23:26:46 Xandra -> ::smirks:: NO , out of pure goodness of heart .. obviously

23:26:57 Xandra -> ::rolls eyes::

23:27:05 MoQtal -> ::Glances over Fox and Xandra::

23:27:11 K'mLak -> ::looks to Smokey::

23:27:29 K'mLak -> Not wise my friend <w>

23:27:33 MoQtal -> You will both see that you have not merely chosen a better fate than death. This will be a home for you ... if your hearts prove true.

23:27:41 MoQtal -> ACTION: The car's doors open

23:27:53 Fox Smokey -> I look forward to that opportunity ::stands up, ready to exit::

23:28:02 MoQtal -> ACTION: The car is parked in a cargo hold much smaller than the other QoB's. It is even more cramped as crates of tritanium are stacked against the walls to either side

23:28:15 Xandra -> ::narrows eyes but says nothing ::

23:28:45 MoQtal -> ::Stands in his seat and raises his wrist communicator:: Close the cargo hatch. Everyone is aboard.

23:29:05 Fox Smokey -> ::wonders if this classifies him as a 'mercenary'::

23:29:08 Sargh -> ::gets up, looking at the crates of tritanium:: Well, it looks like this little change of venue hasn't resulted in our losing our designated cargo...so I don't know about you all, but I'd call this a win.

23:29:50 Fox Smokey -> ::smirks:: maybe we'll have hot water ::laughs a little::

23:29:51 MoQtal -> ::Looks at Sargh and laughs:: No, Commander Sargh. The mission that Mench was given was not false ...

23:29:59 K'mLak -> ::stands and walks to Sargh:: Hija

23:30:08 Xandra -> ::narrows her eyes once again looking at Sargh this time , while getting up from her seat ::

23:30:25 MoQtal -> We retrieved a load of tritanium ... ::Motions:: Half that which Mench assumed you would be taking, but tritanium nonetheless. And we sabotaged the mines.

23:30:41 Xandra -> :;cringes slightly ::

23:30:54 MoQtal -> ::Hops out of the gunner seat::

23:31:11 MoQtal -> While you were making your way out of the mines, we were smuggling the other half of the tritanium aboard your vessel.

23:31:54 MoQtal -> ::Joins Shark and Joker and leads the others toward the door out::

23:32:12 Fox Smokey -> ::follows::

23:32:33 Xandra -> ::follows behind everyone .. taking in her new surroundings ::

23:32:57 Sargh -> ::turns to MoQtal:: So, what is next, sir? Will the other Bird be used as a decoy, or for some other purpose?

23:32:58 K'mLak -> Smuggling it aboard our vessle and yet you are going to distroy it?

23:33:00 Fox Smokey -> ::discretely trying to mentally recall every difference between this ship and his former one::

23:33:42 MoQtal -> ::Laughs softly and glances back at Sargh and K'mLak:: Very astute. You see, I have chosen my new officers well. Nothing has escaped either of you.

23:33:56 Xandra -> ::noticing faces and lay out as they walk , commiting it to memory ::

23:34:08 MoQtal -> ::Leads the recruits down a very short corridor toward the meh::

23:34:22 K'mLak -> ::follows a step behind Sargh::

23:35:06 Sargh -> ::following MoQtal, taking in the layout of the ship and the apparent disposition of any visible crew members::

23:35:28 K'mLak -> :: looking around as they walk::

23:35:51 MoQtal -> ::Leads the others through a door into the meh, which is actually the same size as the other QoB's meh. A Bolian is standing at one of the stations::

23:36:18 MoQtal -> Gular> ::Turns to see who made it out of the canyons alive::

23:36:37 Fox Smokey -> ::mutters:: interesting.

23:36:46 K'mLak -> ::looks around as she steps on the meH:: You allow a Bolian to be on your bridge?

23:37:02 Xandra -> ::gives Gular a quick up and down before looking around at the rest of the bridge crew::

23:37:11 MoQtal -> ::Laughs in K'mLak's direction:: Some of you may have met or seen Mr. Gular aboard your own vessel ...

23:37:28 MoQtal -> He is not a member of my crew. He is an associate and an advisor and he will be leaving us after we exchange the tritanium.

23:37:44 MoQtal -> Gular> ::Nods to the others, even to K'mLak, though he does not seem pleased with her comment::

23:37:48 K'mLak -> I knew he could not be trusted

23:38:12 K'mLak -> ::grumbling::

23:38:17 MoQtal -> Gular> ::Smiles at K'mLak:: Not by your good 'Commander' Mench.

23:38:22 Xandra -> ::assumes that gular was Mench's contact for the job , and gives him a dark look ::

23:38:40 Sargh -> ::observes Gular's presence with no particular expression::

23:38:41 MoQtal -> Gular> But my association with him has brought you into much more favorable circumstances.

23:39:22 MoQtal -> Gular> Your chances of survival have gone up dramatically since your encounter with Captain MoQtal. Crew are rarely killed in action aboard this vessel.

23:39:25 Xandra -> ::mumbles::

23:39:43 MoQtal -> ::Looks at the others:: Can you guess why that is?

23:39:44 K'mLak -> That may be true but I will watch my back when you are around

23:39:51 MoQtal -> ::Circles around to his chair and takes a seat::

23:40:28 K'mLak -> By the sounds of it you have others do your dirty work

23:40:32 Fox Smokey -> ::ignores Gular, stands at a parade rest position near the back of the MeH::

23:40:44 MoQtal -> ::Gives Gular a wide, fang-bearing smile::

23:41:06 MoQtal -> Gular> ::Looks at K'mLak:: What is your name?

23:41:16 Xandra -> ::stands behind Smokey , by the door having an irresitible urge to exit the MeH at once ::

23:41:28 MoQtal -> ::Looks at Fox:: Mr. Smokey. You are a skilled pilot, are you not?

23:41:41 Fox Smokey -> ::snaps head around:: Aye.

23:41:44 K'mLak -> K'mLak HoD

23:42:05 MoQtal -> ::Looks at Fox:: You have handled a large Bird of Prey capably enough. As you have no doubt noticed, this one is much smaller. Far more demanding. Can you handle it?

23:42:29 MoQtal -> Gular> K'mLak ... how many different legends have you heard about this vessel?

23:42:37 K'mLak -> (( minus the HoD))

23:42:38 Fox Smokey -> Smaller equals more manueverability. This should be easier, actually. Sir.

23:42:48 K'mLak -> Many

23:43:06 MoQtal -> ::Shakes head:: You will learn otherwise, Mr. Smokey. Our maneuverability is our strength. You must draw as much out of it as you possibly can. Take the helm.

23:43:37 Xandra -> ::shifts weight from one leg to another looking intensly back and forth between MoQtal and Gular ::

23:43:47 MoQtal -> Gular> And almost all of them are false. Exaggerations. Meanwhile, no one has come close to tracking this vessel down or apprehending its crew. No one has come close to the true QoB.

23:43:48 Fox Smokey -> ::Smiles; just glad he hasn't been fed to the crew yet. Walks over to the helm, and sits, intensely studying the console interface::

23:43:55 K'mLak -> ::looks between the two MoQtal and Gular::

23:44:14 MoQtal -> Gular> When we leave this world, K'mLak ... will anyone be looking for us?

23:44:33 K'mLak -> Not with our vessle left as a riun

23:44:40 MoQtal -> ::Grins as Fox takes the helm:: Initate liftoff.

23:45:20 MoQtal -> Gular> ::Shakes head:: No. Nor with the large cache of tritanium on board. The tritanium which will soon be mingled with the materials of your own ship. Too much for anyone to accurately count. And by the time they do, we will be long gone.

23:45:43 Xandra -> ::letting hatred wash over her , beginning to learn to accept the feeling ::

23:46:05 MoQtal -> Gular> Your new Captain does not exercise blunt force. He exercises caution and he accounts for and even establishes contingencies.

23:46:10 Fox Smokey -> ::turns head slightly around:: Aye. ::takes a second to locate lower atmospheric liftoff thrusters and landing strut withdraw; initates the countdown, lights the fires, kicks the tires::

23:46:36 MoQtal -> Gular> In doing so, he has kept this ship in tact and most of its crew alive for nearly a decade, despite their rogue status.

23:47:08 Fox Smokey -> ::tries to block out thinking of his fmr commander; focuses on the job::

23:47:23 Xandra -> :: taking a deep breath to clear head before clearing her throat ::

23:47:30 MoQtal -> ::Turns his chair to look at Sargh:: You have been quiet, Commander. What are your thoughts?

23:47:49 Sargh -> If you'll permit me a few observations, sir?

23:47:59 MoQtal -> Speak your mind, Commander.

23:48:01 K'mLak -> ::waits for Sargh to finish::

23:48:05 Xandra -> ::sighs loudly ::

23:48:22 MoQtal -> Gular> ::Looks around K'mLak. Walks over toward Xandra::

23:48:23 Sargh -> Firstly, I wonder how much of what he says about the survival rate of your crew is true...

23:48:37 Sargh -> After all, you've just taken on a new XO and a new helsman, as well as a few other crew members

23:48:51 Sargh -> On a ship of this size, that amount of crew change-over is hardly insignificant.

23:49:07 MoQtal -> Our last recruitment was a year and seven months ago, Mr. Sargh. ::Grins at him::

23:49:15 MoQtal -> We took on two new officers at that time.

23:49:38 Xandra -> ::takes on the most blasé look she can manage ::

23:49:45 Fox Smokey -> ::feels the vibration of the engines straining as the QoB cuts through the stratosphere::

23:50:19 Sargh -> Secondly, I cannot help but wonder...the rumors, the survival of this vessel...

23:50:23 MoQtal -> We lost our helmsman earlier this year. Mr. Morgan was recruited to fill that vacancy. Mr. Smokey will offer assistance, but he was not needed. Nor did we need another doctor. We lost our last doctor last year, but we have one other.

23:50:26 K'mLak -> ::steps over to a console and looks at it::

23:50:46 MoQtal -> Gular> Is something wrong, Doctor Collins? ::Tilts head at her::

23:51:01 Sargh -> If I am to assume that your actions have been in accordance with Klingon honor, there must be some greater purpose, for you to use decoys and deception instead of straight battle, for sacrificing other ships instead of your own...

23:51:22 Sargh -> ..that is to say, not just a mission, which another ship could accomplish just as well were we to fall in battle...

23:51:28 Sargh -> but a plan of some sort, an overarching strategy.

23:52:02 MoQtal -> Yes. Your motto, Commander Sargh ... 'what good is dying in battle if the mission is not accomplished,' correct?

23:52:12 K'mLak -> ::looks back to MoQtal for the answer to that::

23:52:38 Sargh -> Indeed...it is dishonorable to pursue honor if it is done selfishly, for the sake of your own honor itself, instead of a greater purpose.

23:52:45 MoQtal -> ::Glances suddenly at the helm:: Hold us here, Mr. Smokey. We should be far enough off the surface.

23:52:55 Xandra -> ::takes a deep bored breath before answering :; Gular > All of this does not concern me or even remotly interest me .. I'd like to be shown the ay to the infrmary where I can do what I was brought on board for and nothing else

23:53:10 Xandra -> ::dreaming inwardly to snap the bolian's neck ::

23:53:18 Fox Smokey -> ::backs off thruster power to level current position:: Done.

23:53:24 MoQtal -> ::Looks at Sargh:: Soon you will meet friends of ours, Commander. We will conduct the tritanium exchange in a location that is frequently visited by other Klingon vessels like ours ...

23:53:30 Xandra -> *way

23:53:39 MoQtal -> And our purpose is greater. It is the same as the purpose your crew once upheld.

23:54:01 MoQtal -> Gular> ::Smirks:: You felt for Commander Mench, didn't you?

23:54:07 Sargh -> ::makes a mental note of the fact that MoQtal isn't about to divulge any greater plans that he might have:: I understand, sir.

23:55:09 MoQtal -> You will see that you are now a part of something greater than Commander Mench ever would have offered you. We are working gradually to restore the Empire, just as your vessel once broke away to do so.

23:55:32 Xandra -> ::raises eyebrows before starting to laugh bitterly :: Gular> Not really.. men are all interchangeable .. he wasn't more specila than the rest of you :: returns to her observation of the MeH ceiling ::

23:55:42 Xandra -> *special

23:55:58 MoQtal -> Gular> I can see more than you may think, Dr. Collins. My people have a knack for it.

23:56:25 MoQtal -> Gular> I knew your Commander before he fell in with the Klingons ...

23:56:28 Fox Smokey -> ::worries Dr. Collins is going to need a doctor herself if she keeps that up::

23:56:39 MoQtal -> Gular> He cared nothing for you or for anyone but himself.

23:57:12 Sargh -> ::nods, trying to appear satisfied with the answer, but unable to entirely shake the suspicion that there is more going on than he has been told::

23:57:18 MoQtal -> ::Looks at Fox:: Mr. Smokey, turn our bow toward the location of your former vessel

23:57:20 K'mLak -> :: turns to face MoQtal:: If Sargh was brought on board to be Your right hand and Collins for your Qel, Smokey for Helm,

23:57:36 Xandra -> ::smiles to resits the urge of attacking Gular :: Gular > I can't help what you;re thinking .. and frankly I don't really care

23:57:38 K'mLak -> What did you have me in mind for.

23:58:13 MoQtal -> ::Looks at K'mLak:: You are a capable warrior, are you not, K'mLak? And you have experiencing manning the guns of a Bird.

23:58:34 K'mLak -> HIja HoD

23:58:40 Xandra -> ::gets closer to Gular ::<q> and I don't care abput anybody else than myself either :: smiles before returning to her previous spot by the door ::

23:58:44 Fox Smokey -> ::somewhat sadly follows the order; wheels bow around, fully exposing what he knew to be the optimal weapons arc, guessing the next order::

23:59:01 MoQtal -> Gular> ::Grins and simply turns to stand behind MoQtal's chair::

23:59:30 MoQtal -> ::Looks toward Sargh:: There is a Starfleet vessel in orbit. Your actions on Starbase 215 brought them here. We did not expect their presence.

23:59:48 Xandra -> ::stares blankly at the viewscreen ::

23:59:59 MoQtal -> We are going to have to pull out of the system on impulse speed and take efforts to mask our warp signature.

00:00:06 K'mLak -> ::looks up at the view screen

00:00:24 Sargh -> Sir, they will observe us if we fire on the other QoB...is it currently sufficiently disabled for our purposes?

00:00:28 MoQtal -> Mr. Shark. ::Holds his hand out::

00:00:46 MoQtal -> Shark> ::Moves away from the combat station to place a device in MoQtal's hand::

00:01:15 MoQtal -> ::Sargh:: They would detect weapons fire, yes. But the dampening field will be sufficient to mask this. ::Holds the device up::

00:01:35 Fox Smokey -> ::mutters:: Sargh, you think they didn't think of something?

00:01:43 MoQtal -> ::Presses the red button::

00:01:44 Xandra -> ::takes a seat , since it's been amde obvious that she would have to stay on the bridge to witness the destruction ::

00:02:31 MoQtal -> ACTION: On the Goldrock surface, a large Bird of Prey explodes, killing what crew remain as well as a Starfleet away team, and scatter hull scraps and tritanium for hundreds of yards

00:02:39 K'mLak -> ::watches out the veiwscreen::

00:03:00 Fox Smokey -> ::nods to himself; probably best he joined this crew...::

00:03:05 Xandra -> ::watches without flinching with the same blasé look as before::

00:03:48 MoQtal -> Mr. Fox, hand your station to Mr. Morgan. ::Looks around at everyone:: Many of your personal items were transferred to quarters here ...

00:03:53 Sargh -> ::sees the ship explode, with somewhat conflicted thoughts...he'd served on that ship since the days when it was still in the service of the Empire, after all::

00:04:04 Xandra -> MoQtal> Your little show being over here , I don't think my presence is required anymore ::gets up waiting to be excused from the MeH

00:04:06 Xandra -> ::

00:04:39 MoQtal -> ::Lifts an eyebrow at MoQtal:: I was about to relieve you all.

00:04:41 Fox Smokey -> ::looks around to find his replacement; spots someone heading to his station. Holds an outstretched hand to his now empty spinning chair:: Mr. Morgan.

00:04:47 MoQtal -> << oops *Xandra >>

00:04:59 Xandra -> ::expressionless::

00:05:49 MoQtal -> One of my men will show you to your quarters. Settle yourselves in and look around the vessel. Begin getting to know the crew. It will take almost a month for us to reach our headquarters. You will have plenty of time.

00:05:50 K'mLak -> ::lowers her head for a moment in rememberence of her klingon friends:: Destroying them like that did not allow them to die with honor.

00:06:21 K'mLak -> Did not allow them to fight

00:06:38 MoQtal -> They will have their honor, K'mLak. Their deaths will serve a greater purpose. And I assure you ... they did die fighting.

00:06:52 Xandra -> ::nods , waiting for the men in question ::

00:07:06 Fox Smokey -> ::joins Xandra::

00:07:04 Joe Manning -> PAUSE SIM

Qob091201.txt

The now uninhibited sensor scans of Goldrock's surface roamed over the canyons and the adjacent hills, sending clear imagery back to the Bridge of the USS Trinidad. Clouds of dust from the mines' collapse were still blowing out of the canyons. Twisted shards of metal were lying all over the hills. Two explosions within the span of less than a half hour had created a mess of mammoth proportions on Goldrock. It was a morbid kind of relief that there were no body parts to be seen scattered about the terrain -- the explosion of the Bird of Prey had completely vaporized anything organic within five hundred meters.

 

Admiral Thorne was not happy.

 

Reports had been turned in by planetary Security Chief Petrov and Lieutenant Desmond and a complete picture of the events on Goldrock were being assembled. Everything that had occured on the dusty mining planet seemed to be straightforward enough. Headquarters had been informed of an 'incident,' though the Admiral had not yet filed a complete report. There were still unanswered questions.

 

"Lieutenant Ailar, you have the Bridge," Thorne said while rising slowly from his chair. "I am going to Sickbay. Desmond, you're with me."

 

Lieutenant Desmond was still shaken. Trinidad's chief security officer, Desmond's superior officer for the past six years, had been lost with the rest of the Goldrock away team. They'd all been aboard the Bird of Prey when it exploded. Now, suddenly, he was the chief of the security staff. While he did not mind the responsibility, the position was the last thing he wanted if it came with a memorial service for Commander Hager.

 

"While you have my sympathies, Lieutenant," the Admiral said when the turbolift doors closed. "And I know the terrible sense of loss that you feel, for I share it with you ... I need you to be with it as we conduct our investigation. You are now my most capable security officer."

 

"Understood, sir," Desmond nodded slowly.

 

"Give me the summary of events," Thorne ordered. "Starting with Starbase 215."

 

"Aye, sir. Stardate 58910.06, 2200 hours. Klingon pirate crew infiltrates Starbase 215. Human collaborators board the station posing as former captives seeking aid. They assist in the theft of Starbase 215's communications beacon. After the theft, at 2245 hours, some fifteen minutes after our arrival, the infiltrators return to their ship and blow up the station, providing cover for their escape. We manage to pick up their warp trail, however."

 

"The efficiency of the theft," Thorne observes, "and the engineering crews' discovery of four separate explosives that had been used to detonate the station's fusion reactors, suggests that their activities had not been unplanned. They had studied the station's layout and had rigged it to explode even before their infiltration."

 

"And our interrogations of rescued station crew," Desmond continued, "combined with the station reports we managed to collect have brought us no closer to determining how they accomplished this."

 

"It had to have been a mole on the station," Thorne said, shaking his head. "Possibly killed in the explosion ... sacrificed even. Continue summary."

 

"58911.03, 0830 hours, enemy warp trail ends at Goldrock colony. Presumably, the Bird of Prey immediately lands on the surface of Goldrock and activates the modified communications beacon. The armored vehicle Chief Petrov has described proceeds into the mines and begins ferrying portions of the tritanium shipment back to the vessel. These activites are hidden under the dampening blanket. Security personnel inside the mine are never accounted for; they likely attempted to stop the vehicle, but were killed by the operators."

 

"A lot of aspects of this trouble me," the Admiral remarked. "One, they knew exactly how to modify the beacon to create a large-scale dampening field capable of cutting off the colony's sensors and communications. They -had- to have had an expert in engineering about their vessel, someone very familiar with our technology. Considering the dual nature of their crew, this is no surprise, but the fact that such knowledgeable Starfleet officers would have been willing to join these cutthroats does not sit well with me. Two, the vehicle. Petrov's description does not match anything that we have been able to identify. It appears to be something completely new. Conflicting reports we've received from surviving planetary security suggest elements of Romulan design in its construction ... certainly not pleasing. And three, given the complexity of the mines' layout, they knew exactly where the shipment was being stored."

 

"Evidence of more thorough planning," Desmond observed. "Possibly, again, inside help. They may have received intelligence from a mine worker. It would not have been difficult to secure, I imagine."

 

"Yes," Thorne frowned deeply. "A lot of activity on our property with our people ... completely unnoticed by our authorities. This operation should never have been allowed to proceed."

 

The turbolift doors opened and the pair began down the corridor. Desmond continued his summary, "Approximately 0920 hours, ten minutes after Trinidad's arrival, planetary security patrols locate the Bird of Prey. The energy seals in the mines are erected and Petrov organizes all of his personnel for an attempt to take control of the Bird of Prey. The Commodore takes a shuttle down and tries to encourage Petrov to defer to our judgment in the matter, but he stubbornly continues with his plan, and fighting ensues between his personnel and armed assailants inside the Bird of Prey. It is shortly after the Commodore departs the surface at 0945 hours that the armored car returns from a trip to the mines and begins shooting."

 

"And, predictably, Petrov loses 40% of his personnel," Thorne interrupted. "Damned fringe world security."

 

"Because of the dampening field, Commodore Blake never noticed the armored vehicle. We remained unaware of its presence; Petrov claims that his people were also unaware of it at the time. Blake returns to the surface with your updated orders at 1005 hours. It is, regretably, at this time that the armored car emerges and shoots his shuttle down. At about the same time, the Klingon and non-Klingon personnel aboard the Bird of Prey began fighting each other, presumably over ownership of the tritanium. At 1025 hours, the team lead by Lieutenant Commander Hager leaves for the surface, watchful for the armored vehicle. I observe the events aboard the Bird of Prey and return to deliver a report to you at 1040 hours."

 

"I would still like to know," Thorne said as they entered Sickbay and made their way to the intensive care ward. "What, exactly, precipitated the fighting. I am sure the great wealth they had suddenly managed to gather within their cargo hold was a factor, as was their discovery by the local security force. But such a widespread crew conflict must have been initiated by a single member of the crew, most likely a subordinate officer."

 

"The rest of the events which unfolded we could observe from above despite the dampening field," Desmond said. "1105 hours, an explosion deep within the mines collapses the entire complex. As our scans have not located the armored vehicle on the surface, it is likely buried within the complex and may have even been responsible for the explosion. At 1120 hours ... the Bird of Prey follows suit. It appeared that their engine was detonated ... possibly an accident resulting from the fighting, possibly an overload initiated by whoever was in charge in order to eliminate the intruders. Commander Hager's team had not managed to shut down the beacon by that point, so we never received any further reports of his team's activities on the vessel. The heist which was attempted by the crew of the Klingon vessel ended up completely botched. Anyone who was inside the mines was not likely to survive, nor will they last much longer if they did. Our scans suggest that all of their crew were killed."

 

"Yes," Thorne said as the pair of officers stopped at a biobed in the IC ward. The monitors above the biobed were spiking faintly. "All except one."

 

"Yes," Desmond nodded. "1100 hours, a powerful quantum signature thats origin is still a mystery to us pierces the dampening field from the canyon floor. We lock on to the signature and, with great effort from our transporters ... manage to deliver it into a containment field in Sickbay."

 

Desmond and Thorne both looked down at the face of the man unconscious on the biobed. "Welcome back to Starfleet's loving embrace, Private Mench," Thorne said with a ravenous smirk. "We do look forward to having a chat with you ... "